Cassandra hesitated. She had stepped towards the door and moved away almost a dozen times now. Though the main hall was empty at the late hour she worried someone would see her loitering about in front of the door to the Inquisitor's chambers.

She had a book of poetry in her hand that she wished to share, and knew the Inquisitor preferred the evening hours. Truly, she wondered if perhaps she should not visit Alvaerle just yet. She had heard wagging tongues on her way across the courtyard, the comment that the Inquisitor looked forlorn. She only hoped she was not the reason. But, Cassandra felt like she needed to talk to the Inquisitor. To reaffirm their friendship. At the very least to let the elf know how flattered she was that Alva felt that strongly about her, and that she wasn't upset about the kiss.

The kiss.

Cassandra felt herself flush and promptly cleared her throat as if that would help. She refused, flatly to think about her reaction to the kiss. It had been a charged moment, Alva was a dear friend and she had… not been kissed at all in sometime. And never with such…

Cassandra shook her head as if to clear it. No, those thoughts were foolish. Squaring her shoulders she pushed open the door. She climbed the first flight of stairs and rounded the walkway. Just as she was lifting her hand to knock, sounds echoing out from inside the chamber stayed her hand. At first, her body tensed in combat readiness and she was ready to charge in – but then… Sweet Andraste there was no mistaking it, the sound was a moan. The Inquisitor was moaning. Loudly.

Cassandra felt the heat in her cheeks rise again, her body responding instinctively to the sounds. She knew she should step away and respect the Inquisitor's privacy, not remain standing there like some perverse cretin. Her brain's logic was not translating to her feet. Instead of backing away she felt herself moving closer to the door, until her ear was nearly pressed against it. It sounded like a fiercely passionate coupling and she was… not at all sure how she felt about it. The Inquisitor had said her interest was more than just physical but if that were true then surely not just a few days after-

"Cassandra!"

Cassandra startled. Her knees went weak, and it was the first time she'd experienced the sensation outside of battle fatigue. She pressed her hand against the door to keep from falling over, struggling to suppress an unexpected whimper. She had never, not in all her years, heard her name called out like that. There was… Maker, there was such longing wrapped around the passion in her tone. Arousal ripped through Cassandra sharp and burning, making thought difficult.

If she was honest with herself, she had felt the same way on the battlements when the Inquisitor kissed her.

No, when Alvaerle had kissed her.

Cassandra licked her lips, shutting her eyes. The elf was coupling with someone else, thinking about her. Thinking about her so strongly that she'd called out…

Oh.

Jealousy suddenly curled through Cassandra. Jealousy and envy. Would she be able to make Alva cry out in such a way if, it was her hands and mouth on her? Cassandra's fingers curled against the door every part of her suddenly and fiercely aching with the need to find out. She wanted to be there, in place of whomever that was, she wanted to - startling realization flooded Cassandra's arousal fogged brain. Maker did she?

She could not face Alvarele, not now. Cassandra jumped back from the door as if it had tried to attack her, turned on her heel and marched out.