A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I wanted to let you know that there's going to be several side pairings in this fic, and you'll probably be able to see them coming, lol. Also, I'm trying to update a bit more regularly, for a while and see how it goes.

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"Lovely day for a ride."

Ser Yorric's voice was a pleasant drawl as his horse matched pace with Cassandra's.

While Cullen had led the majority of the able-bodied soldiers back through Orlais to return to Skyhold, Cassandra had taken charge of leading the more seriously injured soldiers to Griffonwing Keep. Knight-Captain Rylen was already awaiting them and had offered to send whatever he could to help them along through the desert-once he was sure the keep was equipped to handle the extra bodies.

As it was, they were only another day or so out from the keep. As soon as they could see it, she intended to break off and head for Skyhold herself.

She hoped she would make it back in time to be part of the conversation with Finley, but had told Cullen they could tackle that problem without her, if need be. Perhaps it would even go smoother with her absent, as she was one of the 'intimidating three', as Josephine had put it. While Finley had certainly warmed up to her-at least Cassandra thought she had-she couldn't help but feel it might be better, if only because there were less sets of eyes upon the ever-wary apostate.

And she could always get caught up later.

Yes, Cassandra knew she could be intimidating-preferred it most times-but not toward friends. Not that she had many or was even sure Finley considered her such.

Allowing herself a disgusted sigh as she realized she actually worried that Finley might not consider them friends-had they not fought side by side through so much already?-her gaze happened to wander and settle on Ser Yorric.

He seemed content to ride in silence for the moment, but his constant attempts at camaraderie and the way he seemed to seek her out…

Seek the seeker.

Maker help her, now she was making terrible puns about herself.

"The winds have died down, at least," she murmured. Instantly, she wondered why she'd bothered.

"Hmm?" Ser Yorric's attention snapped toward her. "Sorry, I missed that."

"The winds," Cassandra repeated, feeling both foolish and guilty that she'd let their silence drag on so long. With most, it wouldn't have mattered much, but when it came to Ser Yorric…

How was it that this man could fluster her so? She hoped he couldn't tell.

"Oh, yes. They're nicer today, aren't they?"

His voice was as pleasant as ever, though his eyes were tired and his smile fell shy of its usual radiance.

"Are you well?" When he blinked, surprised, she felt heat creeping up her cheeks. "You look worn."

"As do we all," he offered before correcting himself, "though you are as stunning as ever, Lady Pentaghast."

Cassandra scoffed before she could stop herself.

"Do you…" Ser Yorric trailed off a moment, as though he was too nervous to finish his sentence. Even if Cassandra wondered if she wasn't emanating one of her auras of intimidating, he found his resolve. "Would you prefer I not compliment you?"

"What?" Cassandra exhaled the word, instantly thrown by the question. Of all the directions she'd expected the conversation might go, this had not been one. Her mind blanked as she tried to find any number of words that could be strung together coherently. "I-that's not-" She floundered a moment longer before managing a shrug and turning her gaze straight ahead. Squinting she thought she could almost see the keep, though that could have easily been wishful thinking. "I...I would think you would know I have very little in the way of humor at this point, Ser Trevelyan."

"You think I'm joking?"

"Of course."

She dared a glance at him from the corner of her eye to see that his brow was pulled together, lips dipping into an uncharacteristic frown. Her heart almost stopped at the thought that she'd made him unhappy.

A foolish notion, that. Like they were some doting school children.

"And if it's not a joke?"

Without meaning to, her attention snapped back to him, her head jerking to the side to stare at him directly.

He hesitated before shrugging and giving her what looked a little too forced to be a casual smile. "If I really would like to spend an evening-or a horse ride-getting to know you better?"

For the second time in so short a while, Cassandra's mind blanked.

How…?

How could he ask her that? How could he look so earnest? So nervous?

She'd been teased growing up, about being too forceful, for lacking the daintiness and other 'ladylike' qualities her uncle had felt she lacked. The ones he'd tried desperately to instill in her before she'd run off and joined the Seekers.

She had seen the way men's gazes wandered over her with little interest only to light up when seeing another. Leliana, Josephine, even Finley.

That had been fine with her, really. Her work didn't allow for many dalliances-only the one, really-and she hadn't felt herself lacking.

Well…

Dalliances were one thing, but romance? The great and powerful force of love? That was something she found herself longing for from time to time, wistfully imagining how such a story might play out.

And she did love her romance stories.

However, those always followed a rather strict formula, one that she saw perpetuated too often in real life as well. The maidens were damsels and while it was fun to get swept up in the moment, reading their rescues and loves, Cassandra was well aware that she was too tall and too toned to be swept off her feet.

If Ser Yorric was really interested in her…

Bitterness stirred in her.

How could he be?

All he knew of her was her hardness. If he was interested, then it was in that, it was in the way she dominated a scene, in the way she held power, not…

Not poetry readings or flowers or watching the stars and naming them after each other or-

How could he know to take interest in the romantic heart hidden beneath all those layers of armor and muscle and scars when he didn't even know it was there?

"Seeker Pentaghast!"

Her gaze snapped involuntarily to Ser Yorric, only to see his had wandered elsewhere. Clear annoyance played on his features as he looked just past her and then to her, an almost pleading look replacing it, as though begging an answer to his question.

As her name was spoken again, she turned from him to find his brother and Ser Cadwin riding together on her other side.

Ser Cadwin's hands were closed tightly around something, and Ser Jensen sat behind her on the horse, holding the both of them up. Ser Cadwin frowned as she glared down at her clasped hands. "I think the damned thing is trying to bite me."

"Good thing you have gauntlets," Ser Yorric called, that usual light tone back in place.

"It keeps tapping against them," Ser Cadwin muttered, abruptly curling her fingers tighter.

Cassandra thought she heard an angry chirp.

"Do you remember that wasp that was following us in Denerim?" Ser Jensen asked, ignoring the grumpiness of his companion. When Cassandra and Ser Yorric both said so, Ser Jensen nodded his head toward Ser Cadwin. "We caught another. It's a bird this time."

Cassandra stared at the two of them for a long moment before frowning. "And?"

"We brought it to you."

"I am no mage," Cassandra stated, voice flat. "What do you think I can do with it?"

Before either templar could offer an explanation-or even attempt one, their horse snorted and shifted, jostling them. Ser Jensen was quick to keep them upright, but in the moment, Ser Cadwin's hands parted just enough that something small and brown shot out from between her fingers and arched into the air.

As Ser Yorric whistled and both of the others cursed, the little thing flitted back down and sat on the head of Cassandra's steed as though it had found its home.

Her eyes widened as it stared at her.

It looked like it might have been fashioned to look like some sort of finch from dried leaves and she could just barely feel a faint curl of magic inside of it. It felt surprisingly familiar.

The little bird tilted its head, appraising her and then let out a sharp chirp.

Three different spell interrupts died around her as she held up her hand for them to hold.

"What is this?"

"Cassandra," Finley's voice came out of nowhere.

No, not nowhere.

From the bird.

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. "Yes?"

Even as she spoke, Finley's voice had already picked up. "The Venatori are here in the Western Approach, and they've kidnapped children. We're going after them, but we could use...spell interrupts." They way she avoided saying templars was not lost to Cassandra, and she let out a soft hmph as the voice-bird kept talking. "Bring this to Solas or Dorian, and they can lead you to us. We're working with a mercenary group for now, but-" her voice immediately sounded further away. Cassandra could swear she heard Finley telling someone to be quiet and let her finish. Her voice became stronger, closer again. "I doubt we'll need a full army, but whatever help can be spared would be appreciated."

"I don't suppose you can specify anything else?" Ser Yorric asked, reaching out as though to touch the bird.

It bristled and let out a sharp chirp, tensing like it might attack his hand, but said no more.

Ser Yorric sat back in his seat, eyeing the little thing. "I suppose that would explain why our dear inquisitor wasn't concerned about the wasp, wouldn't it?"

Cassandra arched an eyebrow as she looked back at him. "I was thinking as much."

It would also explain how she might have gotten the documents from the king's library. If these...things could carry a message, perhaps they could do so in more than one way.

Or perhaps there were others that knew these tricks as well.

"I was wondering when we'd see some Wilds' magic," Ser Yorric said, shaking his head. Despite the words causing a curl of unease in Cassandra's gut, he seemed oddly fine with the whole of it. Like finding a talking leaf-bird was no different than coming across a pretty flower on a pleasant walk.

The man was not easily jarred, she had to give him that.

"She's not a witch!"

Cassandra blinked, turning to see Ser Jensen glaring angrily past her at his brother.

Ser Yorric simply laughed. "Perish the thought."

"She is Andraste's Chosen."

Ser Yorric held up his hands in defeat, as though his brother might somehow reach across and hit him. "I'm not arguing, dear brother. I'm simply saying that she lived in the Wilds. Her magic would be influenced thus, wouldn't you agree?"

Rather than answer or give Ser Cadwin a chance to weigh in on the conversation, Ser Jensen turned his steed around, calling out haughtily over his shoulder. "We'll find Solas."

As they left, Cassandra turned to see Ser Yorric already falling back and turning his steed around as well. He flashed her a smile and then motioned after his brother's retreating form. "I'd best mend fences...maybe I can offer Solas a ride. Would you like to come with us?"

Cassandra took in a slow breath, reining in her own steed before shaking her head. "I..will see. I need to take these people to the keep. Perhaps Solas can leave a means for me to follow once I know these people are safe?"

"As you say, seeker." With a small, half bow from his seat, Ser Yorric headed back toward the rest of the caravan.

As his figure grew smaller, Cassandra realized that she'd never answered his question.

Her cheeks were a rosy hue as she turned her attention back toward the keep-and the little bird, still sitting on her horse's head.

With a hmph, she tried not to focus on it or on the feeling creeping up through her, offering that it would be nice to sit down sometime and get to know the man behind that brilliant smile.