Dane extended his arms slowly, feeling the gentle warmth of the morning sunlight caress his side. Various muscles and joints began a dull symphony of pain along his body with his waking. He scrunched his mouth into a grimace, not willing to open his eyes. His back twinged and pulled as he lazily rolled onto his stomach, stretching his arms past his head. He pushed the aches out of his mind, instead focusing on the simple delights of waking up rested and safe. The wooden floor of the chamber was cool against his hands, each groove and knot defined under his fingertips. He breathed in deeply, letting the various aromas of the room drift into his lungs. Polish from the furniture dotting the place, morning frost wandering through the open window, and something he couldn't quite discern. It was a delicate, flowery scent that he had never experienced before. He felt his mouth curl into a smile and he hummed contentedly; relishing the soft fragrance and the feel of worn timber against his skin.

"Herald?"

Dane's eyes snapped open at the curious voice above him. He looked up blearily from his spot on the floor to see Cassandra studying him. Her eyes were a mellow chestnut colour in the morning light. She was sat atop the bed with her legs folded underneath her delicately, already clad in the dark leather armour she wore most days. Dane frowned at his proximity to the bed, glancing between Cassandra and his own position. 'How did I end up all the way over here?', he thought perplexedly. He sat up steadily, trying not to wince in discomfort while Cassandra was looking. The bedroll he had originally placed several metres away from the Seeker was now splayed out along the floor; lying twisted and crooked in her direction. He bit the inside of his cheek, realising he had gravitated toward her throughout the night. 'It's a miracle she didn't step on me when she rose' he thought, furiously attempting not to blush.

"I trust you slept well?" She continued, closing a book resting in the crook of her lap.

Dane stared at her hands covering the shabby dust jacket of her novel, pondering a reply that wouldn't embarrass him any further. He blinked slowly, any witty retorts evaporating in his mind. He realised it was the first time he had truly seen Cassandra's hands out of the gauntlets she seemed to live in. Her fingers were long and slender; sinewy yet supple. Her fingernails were trimmed short and her knuckles were slightly raised and scarred from past injuries, but all Dane could think was how soft and how warm they looked. He wrenched his gaze away before she could comment on his staring and stood hastily, feeling his shirt wrinkle and his muscles protest at the sudden movement.

"Yes, great, thank you." He gushed, not meeting her eyes. He turned away from her as fast as he could without breaking his neck in the process. He crossed the small room and knelt down, grabbing his pack and fumbling with the metal clasp. 'Not even awake two minutes and I'm already the fool in front of her'. He pulled out a relatively fresh set of clothing. 'As fresh as can be when I'm gallivanting around the countryside fighting demons', he thought with a roll of his eyes. He slipped his boots on and stood as hastily as he had knelt. With clothes in arm, he slipped out the door without so much as a backwards glance.

Once Dane was safely out of the chamber and Cassandra's stifling presence, he took a breath. 'You have only known this woman for a few days. You think a warrior like her would look twice at a weakling like you?' he berated himself as he walked briskly down the hall, trying to beat his thoughts down the stairs. The tavern was nearly entirely empty when he reached the bottom. The only sign of the festivity of the night before was a lithe elf passed out and snoring on one of the long tables in the centre of the room. He smirked, recognising the haphazard mop of blonde hair looking very stickily stuck to the table from a spilled flagon of ale. He tiptoed to the main door, making sure not to disturb Sera.

The air was bracingly cold as Dane stepped out of the tavern. He looked around, realising the sun had only just risen over the peaks to the east. 'I must have woken earlier than I thought' he mused as his breath misted in the air. He set about walking to a stream he had heard villagers discussing the day before, eager to wash off the grime he had accumulated from his travels. Most doors were closed as he made his way out of the city. It was still too early for merchants and workers to begin the daily bustle of commerce and trade.

The stream was easy enough to find. A track wound through the sparse dirt outside the gates, snaking through undergrowth that had been pushed back from countless bodies brushing past. Dane descended the small bank to the gurgling water, twisting his head around to make sure no poor woman would faint when he began to undress. He set the bundle of clothes he had brought with him on a nearby patch of grass and proceeded to pull the strings holding his tunic and breeches closed. Once he had removed every article of clothing and tossed it toward the rest of his clothes did he step into the stream, a rag and a lump of soap clutched firmly in hand. He sucked in a sharp breath and tensed his shoulders at the icy water lapping around his shins. 'How do these Fereldans handle this damned cold?' he exclaimed in his head. He gritted his teeth and stepped further into the stream, feeling goosebumps erupt all over his body.

"You know, there is baths in the town."

Dane nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice floating down from behind him. He quickly waded further into the stream, suddenly forgetting about the temperature. Once he was certain the rushing water was waist high did he turn and face who had spoken. The elven barmaid from the tavern was sat on the peak of the bank; her legs dangling over the edge. She was watching Dane with an amused smile, her eyes glittering from the reflection of the water. He reddened intensely at her gaze.

"Ah, nobody told me that little snippet of information." He said quietly, using his usual sarcastic wit to deflect his true emotions.

"I'm telling you now." She said, hopping off the bank far more gracefully than when he had clambered down. She wandered to the pile of his clothes slowly, the smile not leaving her face. Dane swallowed and looked away. He dunked the rag in the water and lathered soap into the fabric's pores, trying to act as if strange women watching him bathe was a normal occurrence.

"Although bathing in the freezing cold of nature is far more Herald-y." She continued, a trace of something colouring her voice that he couldn't quite place. Dane felt a grin creep onto his features despite himself.

"Well, good thing I fit that criteria then. Even if I am slowly turning into very Herald-y icicle." He joked, risking a look in her direction as he moved the soapy rag over his forearms. His arms froze mid-rub and he gulped heavily as he took her in. Her raven hair was long and the tresses contrasted sharply with the creamy coloured skin of her torso. She had undone her dress and let it pool to her feet while he had been studiously avoiding her presence. His eyes were glued to her willowy form as she stepped into the water towards him, unflinching at the biting temperature. The stream seemed to rush and bubble louder in his ears as she approached him leisurely, her hands hidden in the flowing water surrounding them.

"Perhaps I can warm you up." She said in a tone that hinted at a sensual nature underneath her coy smiles. She came to a stop less than an arm's distance from Dane's body. He fought the ragged breaths trying to squeak out of his lungs at her proximity as she raised her hand to his chest, letting the frigid water drip down his skin from her fingertips. He felt the rag and soap drop out of his hands as she pressed closer to him, pulling him down by his neck.

"Trevelyan!"

Dane jerked his head away from the woman, his hands a hairs breadth from her waist. He found Solas staring at the couple in the water, a furious glower on his face. Dane stepped back from the entanglement, seeing Solas's hands glow with magic. He cast a spell, encasing her naked body in a sheet of ice.
Dane's eyes were immediately drawn to the woman in confusion. He quickly spied the dagger she held in her left hand; a second away from being buried in his artery if he had remained distracted. He gasped and splashed backwards into the shallower water behind him, his modesty forgotten at the shock of her betrayal.

"And where did you find this woman?" Cassandra queried in a hard voice, examining the ornate dagger she held in her hands.

"She was attempting to seduce the Herald, I believe. If I had not been there, I expect she would have succeeded and killed him."

Dane felt Sera shoot him a sideways look from her spot beside him at Solas's admission. He sighed and raised his hand to his face, rubbing the stubble accumulating on his jaw. He and Solas, along with the would-be-assassin, had quickly returned to the tavern after the attempt on Dane's life.

"Seduce him? Just where were you?" Cassandra said. He didn't look up, knowing her angry gaze had fallen on his head.

"I was washing at the stream. I didn't realise she had followed me, it all happened so fast." He mumbled, shifting his hand to his neck in awkwardness.

"You do realise that the baths are just across the way, Herald?" Dorian piped up, his voice alight with amusement despite the serious tone all the others in the room had adopted. Dane huffed in shame, not bothering to answer.

"That isn't the point," Cassandra said in a cutting tone. "You are the Herald and we must keep you alive." She emphasised the end of her statement by shoving the dagger under Dane's nose, reminding him just how close he had come to floating down that stream with several holes in his neck. "You are not to be left alone like today. This.. incident shows precisely why."

Dane looked up as she moved her hand back away from his face, seeing her eyes soften slightly at the bashful nod he gave. A moment passed as he managed to find the courage to maintain eye contact with her, until Sera erupted into a loud fit of laughter.

"Paha! Who knew the mark wasn't the only thing growing last night!" She crowed between giggles.

Dane groaned and took his face in his hands. 'I should almost be surprised she knew about that', he thought - remembering the tendrils of green that had been slowly spreading up his arm. Cassandra turned away with a disgusted snort, resuming her study of the dagger. Solas moved aside, aloof as usual as Dorian approached the pair.

"I do believe that dagger is of Tevinter design." Dorian said with an interested tone in his voice. He extended his hand, non-verbally asking permission to inspect the blade. The Seeker handed it over slowly, crossing her arms as he swept his muted gold eyes along the intricacies of the steel.

"I suspected as much. This must belong to Alexius." Dorian said quietly. "The serpents of the Magisterium are engraved in the steel." He traced his finger along the delicate figures of two snakes imprinted in the dagger.

"Then we need to return to Haven right away." Cassandra said, taking the dagger back from Dorian's tanned hands and wrapping it in a scrap of cotton.

"I agree. The four of us alone are no match for this Magister and his assassins. There are likely many more waiting for the right time to strike." Solas said from the spot he had taken a few metres away from the others. Dorian turned to the elven man and let his handsome features harden slightly.

"And will we be returning to take care of this matter? Or shall we just leave this charming town to whatever fate the Venatori dream up?"

"We will be returning," Dane said with an authority to his voice he hadn't realised he possessed. His three companions turned to look at him as he rose from his chair, all with varying shades of surprise except Dorian himself. "We can't leave a cult like that on Ferelden's doorstep. Even if we aren't from here." Dane said with a small smile to the Tevinter mage.

"Excellent decision, Herald. We might make a proper leader out of you yet."

[A.N] The usual - thank you to all who are reading, following, favouriting and reviewing this story. [/A.N]