"So, you're really the head of the whole Inquisition?" Sera looked Herah up and down as she asked the question, her green eyes seeming to take in all of the seated qunari.

"Yup, I really am," the woman in question agreed, giving Sera a crooked smile along with her answer. "Why? I am not what you were expecting?"

"Heard about you," Sera replied, "But didn't quite believe it. I mean, you're, you know, a qunari, yeah."

"So I've been told," she laughed. "Is that a problem?"

"Nah, no problem," Sera said quickly, "I mean, really not a problem. I just didn't think all the fancy-pants let people like you get jobs like that."

Herah didn't reply at first, letting the elf's words linger in the cool night air. They were a day out of Val Royeaux on their way back to Skyhold and this was the first time she'd really had a chance to talk with the newest member of the Inquisition. Honestly, camp was one of the few places she still felt she could talk to anyone like a regular person. Sitting around an autumn fire, sharing a meal, her new title didn't weight quite so heavily on every conversation as it did elsewhere.

"May I assume that by 'fancy-pants,' you are referring to me?", Cassandra interjected, taking a bite out of the pleasingly juicy mutton that was their night's meal.

"Well, yeah," Sera agreed. "I mean, your pants aren't that nice right now, but even though you dress like real people, I can tell. Voice and all that shit. You grew up in a mansion, am I right?"

"You are," Cassandra conceded, "But I really wish you would not make further assumptions about me on that basis. I, and the other members of the Inquisition, selected Herah to be our leader because she was the best choice for the role. I would not have let petty concerns about her background prevent me from doing that."

"There is the little matter of the mark on my hand," Herah teased before helping herself to a swig of wine from her skin. "Somehow, I think that if someone else was carrying that around, they'd be the one with this gig."

"Perhaps. But I do not believe it is an accident that you are the one who bears it. There was purpose in this selection."

Herah sighed inwardly. Even if she no longer believed that the Maker or Andraste had chosen her, plenty of others needed to think it was so, or at least that it could be. "You might be right," she replied non-committally while returning to her mutton.

"Maker's got good taste, then," Sera opined cheerfully, giving Herah another long glance, this one more unreservedly approving. "I mean, look at you, all tall and built, and… yeah, definitely good choice," the elf trailed off.

"I'm sure he's glad you approve," Dorian told Sera with a smile, the Tevinter mage reappearing from out of the shadows at the edge of the camp. "The wards are set," he told Herah. "We should be able to get through the night without being surprised by the Red Templars at the very least."

"Wards? You mean like magic?", Sera asked, a note of anxiety creeping into her voice. "We're going to sleep with magic all around us."

"I wouldn't worry about it, my dear," Dorian assured her. "They're perfectly safe. Only intruders can trigger them, not the people inside."

"Still don't like it." Herah shrugged apologetically, and Sera gave a little annoyed pout when she realized the wards weren't going anywhere. "Fine," she declared, "Going to sleep now." She shot Dorian a disapproving look. "Don't go putting any magic in my tent."

"I wouldn't dream of it," the mage told her with a wry smile.

Sera headed off to her tent, and Herah turned back to Cassandra and Dorian, offering the mage his own skin of wine as he joined them around the fire. "So, what do you think of our newest recruit?", she asked her two companions. "She seems colorful, certainly." Not that the rest of their group was exactly bland. Even with all her years of mercenary experience, Herah had never been around quite such an unusual collection of individuals.

"I am not certain," Cassandra replied, her tone as blunt as ever. "I agree she has skills and connections that could be useful to our cause, but I am not sure that she is a good fit with the image we wish to present."

"Since when are you concerned with appearances?", Dorian asked mischievously. "Certainly not when you had your hair styled like that."

Cassandra glared at the mage before continuing, "The Inquisition is only now starting to convince the Chantry and much of the nobility of Thedas that we are not a dangerous, subversive force. I only worry that this Sera may undermine that, given that she is, in fact, a subversive."

"Hey, I like your hair," Herah told the Seeker, finishing off her wine.

"And I like Sera," Dorian offered. "I agree she may not be the sort of girl you bring to the Autumn Fete in Minrathous, but that doesn't mean we won't need people from her part of town to win this war." He paused, reflecting on his previous statement. "On second thought, it really might not be the worst idea to bring her there. Two years ago, people said Magister Trajan drank from that poisoned chalice just to break the tedium of listening to Lady Liviella taking about her orchids for three hours straight."

"And you wonder why I cut my hair and left that life in favor of serving the Chantry," Cassandra remarked with a derisive snort, evidently pleased to turn the mage's earlier jape back on him.

"Come now," Dorian smirked, "I think you might look quite fetching in an imperial ball gown, something with three or four tiers of ruffles, and one of those intricate tableaux necklaces that were so fashionable last year."

"Now you are merely making fun of me," Cassandra insisted. "If you really felt that way, you would be back in the Imperium playing dress-up instead of here serving the Inquisition." A weary yawn escaped the Seeker's mouth, and when it finished, she stood up. "I think it may be time for me to turn in as well. We have a long road ahead of us and we need to make good time back to Skyhold. There is much to do before we are ready to assault Adamant Fortress.

"True enough," Herah agreed, rising from the log she'd been sitting on. Her bedroll was sounding pretty good to her to right then, but even as she left the fire, she looked in the directly of Sera's tent and whispered to herself, "I think I like her too."

And at last, our potential love interest arrives on the scene. Sera's tough to write, so I hope you think I didn't all right with it.