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Using all his stealth, Thule approached the slender, beautiful figure of his lover. Once he was practically under her nose, he said, very softly, "Boo."
Cassandra turned, one hand automatically on the hilt of her sword. When she saw him, instead of the exasperated but fond noise of disapproval he had expected, her eyes widened in something that looked like alarm, and she cried out, "Ahh! What are you doing here?"
"At Halamshiral, or by your side? Actually, I would have thought the answer to both questions would have been obvious." He frowned up at her. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, well, I … wanted to speak with you. And now, here you are."
"That seems like it worked out well, then." But clearly it hadn't, because she still looked distressed. "Should I leave and come back later so you can try again?"
She was calming now, her voice less strident. "You always have the most clever suggestions."
"So I should go?"
"No! No, you needn't. Perhaps—yes, I think you should sit."
Thule was beginning to be alarmed himself now. "Is there something you need to tell me? Whatever it is, I think I'd prefer to hear it standing." He was rarely bothered by the difference in their heights, but when he sat and she stood it did tend to exaggerate the situation.
Cassandra cleared her throat. "Maybe I should sit."
He gestured to a marble bench near where they were standing. "Please."
She sank onto it with relief. Thule approached the bench, but didn't sit next to her or reach for her hand, the way he would have liked to. She was making him very nervous—had something happened when they were apart to make her rethink their relationship?
Cassandra reached for his hand, instead, holding it between both of hers. She took a calming breath. "The last three years have been—a joy. My greatest joy. I could not have asked for more love … or a better friend."
They were nice words, but there was something hovering behind them that wasn't so nice. "But?" Thule prompted.
"But—to take such a drastic step? Despite all the consequences, or how it would appear? I fear what it might do to us. Do you not share those fears?"
He frowned in confusion, clinging more tightly to her hands. "What step? What are you afraid of?"
She frowned back. "You know what I am talking about."
"I really don't."
"I'm talking about marriage!"
"Marriage?" he asked blankly. He'd given it a passing thought once or twice, mostly because he'd thought Cassandra would want the traditional path eventually, but he'd never spoken to anyone about it, at least, not that he remembered.
"Yes, marriage! You are intending to propose, are you not?" She studied his face, and her eyes widened. "You're not here to propose."
"No. I hope that's not a problem."
"Not at all, but I am going to kill Varric."
Thule was tempted to do the same.
"Why do I believe everything he says?"
"Because he lies for a living," Thule said. He did sit next to her now, pressing his thigh against hers.
"I … may have filled in the blanks," Cassandra admitted.
"No doubt he meant you to."
"That dwarf gets entirely too much joy from my discomfort."
"Fortunately for you, this dwarf gets his joy from your comfort." Thule tugged on her hands until she bent enough that he could kiss her, soft and sweet.
"That is fortunate," Cassandra agreed breathlessly. "I have missed you."
"Me, too." He cleared his throat. "Now that you've brought it up, though—is marriage something you would want?"
She squeezed his hand. "Perhaps one day. It will be a truly romantic proposal, and I will act very surprised."
Thule laughed. "I'll prepare accordingly. One day."
"In the meantime, I am not going anywhere. Not even if the Maker himself tries to stop me. Believe that."
"I'll believe it a lot more if you say it while naked, in our room."
"Now that is a proposal I can agree to." Still holding his hand, Cassandra got to her feet and led him down the path.
It was an unpleasant awakening very early the following morning when an Inquisition scout banged on their door. Thule started up from his comfortable nest in Cassandra's arms, smiling when she stirred and grumbled and then rolled over to bury her face in the pillow.
"What is it?" he shouted through the door, frantically hunting for his pants.
"Inquisitor, we've found something you need to see. Her Perfection says come quickly."
Leliana? He cursed his former spymaster's chronic sleeplessness. "Tell her we'll be down in a minute."
No footsteps receded from the door, and Thule waited, one leg half in his pants.
"She said quickly, ser."
"She'll get quickly," he snapped. "All right?"
"Yes, ser."
Now he heard the footsteps down the corridor. After winning the fight with his pants, he went to the bed, sitting down next to Cassandra and leaning over to kiss her perfectly sculpted shoulder.
"Mm. Later," she mumbled, sighing into the pillow.
"Leliana wants us. The Divine," he added as a reminder.
"The Divine?" Cassandra sat up abruptly. "What does she want?"
"I don't know."
"We must hurry! Where are my clothes?"
Watching her gather her scattered things, Thule couldn't help grinning to himself at how much sway the Divine and the Chantry still had over her. He knew she disagreed with many of Leliana's decisions, but her reverence for Leliana's office had never waned.
Once they were dressed, they hurried down to where the scout waited. To Thule's surprise, they were led to a group of shops near the tavern where the Iron Bull and his Chargers had set up operations. He was even more surprised to see the Iron Bull standing with Leliana, frowning unhappily.
"What's going on?"
"We figured you'd want to see this, boss."
Thule followed the line of their gaze into one of the buildings, where the body of a Qunari warrior lay crumpled in a pool of its own blood against the wall. "How?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," the Iron Bull growled.
"So, look at it as the Left Hand of the Divine and a former member of the Ben-Hassrath. What do those lines of training tell you?" Thule asked. These were his two best investigators—well, had been until Leliana was invested as Divine—and they were expecting him to have answers?
Bull and Leliana glanced at each other. "This was a member of the antaaam, the Qunari military. A soldier, not a spy," Bull said.
"Most of his wounds come from a fight against someone using magic, but at least a few are from a blade," Leliana added.
Cassandra frowned thoughtfully at the body. "So he was badly hurt, separated from his allies, and made it here before he died. But how did he get here—and why here at all, for that matter?"
"I'll have to look into it," Thule said with resignation. "Can you and Josephine handle the negotiations for a while?"
"We'll be fine," Leliana assured him. "It's all speeches and posturing to begin with, anyway. Very boring." She smiled. "Besides, I can always fake a headache and call a recess." She walked serenely off in the direction of the meetings.
The Iron Bull gave a last glare at the body. "I'll be around if you need me, boss."
As he walked off, Thule and Cassandra looked at each other. "It appears the Exalted Council may be more exciting than we expected," Cassandra remarked. Her eyes were sparkling, her color was up. She had as little patience for speeches and grandstanding as Thule did.
He grinned at her. "I would hate to have bored you."
"You could never. What you did last night was most inventive, for example."
"I studied."
"Clearly you are an excellent student."
Varric looked at their surroundings and rubbed at an imaginary spot on Bianca's stock. "Stones, why do I let you drag me into these things?"
"Because what's out there is scarier than what's in here?" Thule countered absently, studying the ground for traces of the Qunari's blood. They had followed the blood patterns across the Palace grounds and up into the building itself, and had been led to an eluvian tucked away in the corner of a room filled with white-draped furniture.
On the other side of the eluvian were rocks, stretching as far as the eye could see, floating in midair. Walking on them felt surreal; unstable. Thule had spoken to dwarves from Orzammar who had mentioned feeling as though they might fall off the ground at any moment. This was more feeling that the ground would fall out from under him … but he understood them better now.
Behind Varric, Dorian was looking around at the rocks with distaste, trying to avoid adding his complaints to the litany. The Iron Bull mostly looked angry, as he had since they discovered the Qunari. He always hated it when he didn't know what was going on, and clearly he didn't today.
Varric frowned at Thule. "What do you know that I don't want you to know?"
Spying another few drops of blood several rocks away, Thule headed in that direction. "I know you got a rune." He spared a glance at his friend. "You want to talk about it?"
"No. Yes. I don't know! Bianca's … Bianca, you know?"
"And you don't like to make decisions, so you'll let her make this one for you the way you always have. This way." Thule pointed off in the distance.
"I just want to write my book," Varric grumbled.
"Not This Shit Is Weird. I told you not to do that one. Besides, Cassandra will kill you if you put her in a book."
"Oh, Stones, you know that means I have no other choice."
"Well, it was nice knowing you."
The blood led to another eluvian, and Thule signaled the others to follow him through.