Just as Blackwall moved to kick dirt into the fire to smother the coals, he heard a soft voice.
"Don't do that."
The Warden whirled around; his sword halfway drawn before he realised who it was. The Inquisitor had returned at last, albeit in worse condition than when he had left.
Trevelyan looked lost. His eyes, while still as bright as sunshine in summer rain, no longer had that familiar glimmer of innocence behind them. His arms hung limp at his sides, and his face was bare in the flickering firelight.
Blackwall gave a sigh, putting away his weapon and placing a burly hand on the younger man's shoulder. He gave him a good shake and a gruff squeeze, hoping to spark some life back into his dimmed eyes.
"We were just about to send out a search party. You had us worried."
If the Inquisitor noticed the gentle reassurance in the Warden's words or his comforting hand, he did not show it.
"I apologise. It was a foolish idea."
Before Blackwall could offer anything more, or ask just what was a 'foolish idea', Dane slipped out of his grasp and towards his pack he had discarded nearby.
Trevelyan knelt down in front of his rucksack, fumbling with the metal clasp. His hands were numb from his venture into the depths of the Mire. He unstrapped the band that held his canvas attached, shoving the vials of wisp essence inside and bundling everything else he would need into his arms.
It did not take the Herald long to set up his sleeping quarters; much farther from the others tents than was usual. He ignored the stares that burned into his back as he worked. His wolf slipped through the flap into the small canvas sanctuary when he was done, curling against the Inquisitor's side as he buried himself in the sheets.
"What did he say?" Cassandra enquired, interrupting Blackwall's observation of their leader.
"'Sorry'."
"So he bloody should be. I got all dressed up again for nuffin'!" Sera grumbled, tossing aside bits and pieces of her armour before collapsing inside her own tent.
"At least he came back." Blackwall gave Cassandra a weak smile.
The Inquisitor had indeed returned to his companions, but a part of him was still stuck to a wet pile of Avvar brain-matter; and both the Seeker and the Warden knew it.
Cassandra could not help the look of surprise on her face when she exited her tent the following morning. Steaming bowls of breakfast were laid out by the fire for each of them. Although the Inquisitor himself was nowhere to be seen, she settled by the smoking embers and helped herself to a bowl, taking a cautious spoonful of the porridge he must have prepared.
"Andraste's tits! This ain't half bad!" Sera said with a delighted noise, swallowing the cheeky spoonful she had swiped from the Seeker's bowl.
"You have your own over there, you know." Cassandra sighed.
The elf was right. The Inquisitor had somehow made dreary oats edible. Cassandra savoured the warmth of her breakfast as she ate. She blinked down at her food when she realised she could taste the unmistakable tang of cinnamon. The earthy spice was quite rare outside of Nevarra, and she wondered just where Dane had managed to get it - in the middle of a swamp, no less.
Blackwall joined the pair soon after, grunting in approval at the meal left for him. Cassandra glanced up at the Herald when he arrived a few minutes later. There was a soft freshness to his skin and a slight dampness in his hair, hinting he had nipped off for a bath. She noticed he still refrained from shaving, letting the fine black hairs along his jaw grow thicker.
He met her gaze without hesitation. The startling blue of his eyes had turned to diamond overnight; harder, fiercer in their colour.
He held the look for a moment longer, a soft smile blossoming on his face. Cassandra felt her worries of the day before recede as his grin distracted her - much to her annoyance.
'What he could do with a smile like that..' She chastised herself, turning away and continuing her meal.
"Why've you been making me cook when you can do that with oats, man?" Blackwall asked between heaping spoonfuls of the creamy porridge.
Dane turned his gaze to the Warden, a snort of laughter puffing into the cool morning air.
"Hold your praise until you try dinner, my friend."
Sera had already finished her breakfast by the time Dane had arrived, and leapt from her spot near Cassandra to envelop the taller man in a hug full of long limbs and laughter.
"Glad you're back, Lordy. I'd have hunted you down and killed you meself if you left me with serious one and serious two."
Dane smiled at his friend, but Cassandra saw it was the type of smile that did not quite reach his eyes. It reminded her of Leliana – how the Spymaster could slip into any emotion at a moment's notice. The porridge turned dry in her mouth as she realised just how well he had put on the mask for their benefit.
"You know she'll kill you for this, right?"
Varric glanced up from his writing, a resigned look etched into his face.
The Inquisitor was indeed correct. Varric had been doing his best to avoid the Seeker once she had learned of Hawke's arrival at Skyhold. Dane had been generous enough to refrain from mentioning their little meeting to Cassandra, but it could only last so long.
"I know. I should be penning my will here."
Dane laughed from his seat opposite the dwarf, taking a deep gulp from his tankard. Varric had noted Trevelyan's extreme appetite for any and every form of alcohol upon his return from the Mire. More than once the Herald had fallen asleep at the table in the following nights; ale still in hand.
"Maybe I should do yours while I'm at it, the way you're going. Y'know it's the middle of the day, right?"
The Inquisitor shrugged, draining the rest of his mug for emphasis.
"Breaking, cracking, something under his nails that won't come out. Stained hands red, raw, rough but the water won't wash.."
Both men started at Cole's mumblings. The ghostly boy sat on the chair that had been unoccupied a moment earlier.
"Cole.." Dane warned, sending their companion a threatening look. "What have I told you about digging around in my head?"
"But you need help, I can help."
"What's this? Did you get wine stains on your hands again Trevelyan?" Varric chuckled, his gaze shifting between the Inquisitor and their spirit friend.
"It's nothing, Varric." Dane growled, stepping from his chair with a scrape.
He tossed a few silvers from his belt onto the table before turning to make his way down the stairs, only to crash right into the walking ball of rage that was Cassandra.
"You!" She growled, pushing Dane aside with a roughness that made the Inquisitor stumble.
"Oh, shit.." Varric muttered, leaping from his chair and taking a few steps backwards, hands raised in defence.
"You knew about Hawke all along, didn't you!" She roared, knocking aside the chairs that stood between her and her prey.
"You're damn right I did!" He shouted back, standing his ground as the Seeker marched into his face.
"You conniving little shit!"
The Inquisitor felt Cole brush past him down the stairs, too shocked by Cassandra's cursing to move from his spot. 'Did she just swear? Varric is dead.'
His reverie was interrupted when Cassandra swung for the dwarf, missing Varric's head by mere inches as he ducked away. He sprang into action, jolting forward and placing himself between the pair.
"Hey! There's no need for that!" Dane glared at the Seeker, having to press against her shoulders to stop her from knocking him out of the way and murdering Varric with her bare hands.
"You're taking his side?" She yelled, an affronted tone in her voice.
"There are no sides here. We're all part of the Inquisition, Cassandra."
The Seeker made a noise in the back of her throat, shrugging off Dane's hands and glaring at Varric over his shoulder.
"It was just you," She seethed, her brows knit into a fearsome scowl. "You kept Hawke from us. You knew we needed a leader, Varric!"
"The Inquisition has a leader!" He replied defensively, pointing a stubby finger at the Inquisitor shaped barricade between them.
"That's not the point! Hawke would have been at the Conclave. She could have saved Most Holy!"
Varric had no answers, taking his chances at rounding past the Seeker and heading towards the stairs. Dane and Cassandra watched him go, with looks of confusion and anger, respectively.
"You know what I think? If Hawke had been at the Conclave, she'd be dead too. You people have done enough to her."
With that the dwarf stormed down the stairs, leaving Dane with a furious looking Cassandra. She rounded on him as soon as they heard the Tavern door slam shut.
"He is a liar, Inquisitor! A snake! How can you let him get away with this?" She demanded, folding her arms and staring straight into the Inquisitor's eyes.
Dane shifted under her gaze, trying to work out the most tactful response he could muster. Cassandra gave a heavy sigh before he could respond, however, sitting on the table nearby with a thud.
"I believed him.." She began, pulling her gloves off and rubbing at the angry lines creased into her forehead. "He spun his story for me and I swallowed it. If I'd just explained what was a stake.. Made him understand.."
The Inquisitor took a hesitant step towards her, pushing aside the niggling thought that he was going too far.
"But I didn't, did I?" She glanced towards Dane as he approached, kneeling down in front of her so they were eye-to-eye.
"What if you had tracked Hawke down? Would she have joined? She supported the mage rebellion, remember." He spoke low enough that only she could hear his gentle words.
Cassandra considered his point, then shook her head in disappointment.
"She would not have trusted me for a second. I should have been more careful. I should have been smarter.. I don't deserve to be here."
It took all of two seconds for Dane to lean forward and wrap his arms around Cassandra. The surprise of his embrace made the Seeker freeze up under his arms, but he did not relinquish his hold despite her shock.
Cassandra forced herself to relax, raising a tentative hand to reciprocate the gesture. When he felt the gentle pressure of her arm winding around his back, he squeezed even tighter, letting her bury her head in the crook of his neck.
She breathed in the scent that lingered on his clothes. He smelled of old parchment and lyrium dust, of bitter ale and the soap of his clean shirt. Dane did not want to let go. His fingers had wound themselves into her hair, and the warmth of her breath on his neck was like fire on his skin.
The worries and nightmares of the last few days drifted out of his mind, leaving no room for anything but the feel of Cassandra pressed against him.
"Ugh, from one shitehole to another." Sera moaned, traipsing inside the newly reclaimed halls of Caer Bronach, or as it had recently been known as Crestwood's bandit fortress.
The Inquisitor had acted on Hawke's advice without delay; setting off for the troubled village with all of his companions in tow. Dane decided he would need more than his usual squad of four if the town had suffered even half of the unfortunate troubles Hawke described. He was right. Clearing out the human vermin that had occupied the keep had taken the better part of the Inquisition's first day in Crestwood, even with their increased numbers.
"I know what you mean." Dorian agreed, flicking a curl of flame into the fireplace where Blackwall was attempting to light the wet logs.
"Just be glad you didn't get dragged along to the Mire." The Warden said with a smile, thankful the mage had saved him blistered hands from trying to light the fire.
"Our dear Inquisitor respects me too much to subject me to that kind of torture."
Dane rolled his eyes from where he leaned over a table across the room, trying to focus on the smudged schematic of the Keep laid before him.
"There." Cassandra murmured, brushing her hand past Dane's own to point out the room where the dam controls should be found.
The Seeker felt a blush creep up her neck when he took her hand between his fingers, squeezing it with a tender smile.
"Thank you." He whispered, brushing his thumb over her knuckles once before stepping away.
"Bull, I think we'll need your help to get the dam open." The Inquisitor announced, wrestling his jacket from Sera and sliding his arms into it.
"And if you, and you could come please." He finished, pointing to Cole and Dorian in turn.
"Not unless you buy me dinner first." Dorian smirked, watching Cole almost fall over himself in anticipation to help the Inquisitor.
Dane gave his friend a long-suffering sigh and dragged him out of the hall by his elbow, most of their companions stifling laughter as the group paraded out of earshot.
Varric glanced up from his spot near the fire, spying a rather forlorn looking Cassandra. She stared after where the party had just disappeared; her mouth twisted in annoyance.
"Disappointed he didn't ask you to tag along?" Varric questioned, a warmth in his voice he hoped might placate the Seeker's wrath.
She scoffed in response, but the wringing of her hands and pacing around the room gave him all the answers he needed. Cassandra was not known for ever 'doing nothing'. It was not often a problem as of late, considering the Inquisitor asked her along wherever he went.
'With the exception of now, I guess.' Varric thought with a smirk. 'And there isn't even any training dummies round' here for her to murder. I'm heartbroken.'
The night was well and truly upon them by the time the Inquisitor and company returned. They stumbled into the makeshift dining hall, their boots smothered with mud and clothes soaked from head to toe.
"I hope you aren't thinking of dragging those filthy things in here, darling." Vivienne warned, looking up from an expensive looking book to appraise the ragtag bunch.
"Do you mean the boots or themselves?" Solas quipped, not looking up.
The First Enchanter laughed, closing her reading material with a snap. She disappeared off into one of the rooms they had discovered still had beds, before any of the others could snatch it out from under her.
"Surprise, surprise. You look like shi-ite." Sera mocked in a sing-song voice, soon cut off when the Inquisitor tossed his dripping wet jacket at her face.
Both mages from the return party raced to huddle around the roaring fire Blackwall had tended to, stripping off their wet clothes. With the exception of Cole, who seemed quite content to sit down in a frigid puddle of rainwater, and Iron Bull, who could go shirtless in a blizzard.
"I take it back." Dorian said through chattering teeth. "He is all too willing to subject me to this horrible country and its torturous weather."
Iron Bull laughed next to the shivering man, tossing the Tevinter mage a thick swath of fur he had retrieved from his pack.
"What about me?" Dane grumbled, gesturing to the goosebumps that had erupted all over his body.
Bull gave the Inquisitor a grin, wrapping a massive arm around Dorian's shoulders.
"I don't wanna get into your pants, boss. So you don't get one."
Dorian groaned and muttered something along the lines of "How charming." Before allowing himself to be snuck away with the Qunari.
Cassandra stared at the Inquisitor from across the room, a telling blush hot on her cheeks. Trevelyan had certainly filled out in the past few months since the Conclave. Any baby-fat from his sedate life in the Circle had disappeared with the vigorous training and fighting regime he had adopted.
She bit her lip as she watched. He looked like one of the handsome models on the covers of her awful romance novels. The muscles of his torso rippled in the firelight as he moved from side to side, trying to get warm.
The Seeker jolted when she realised Dane had turned to find just where she was hiding, and discovered her staring at him in a most un-ladylike manner. He crossed the room to where she sat, a wide grin plastered on his face as he tried to catch her gaze.
"Excuse me." The Inquisitor spoke with a low rumble, making the blush on her cheeks burn even brighter.
Confidence was another thing she could add to his list of changes.
"Could I trouble you for a moment, Lady Cassandra?" He continued, settling next to her on the floor, so close that their knees almost brushed.
"Yes?" She croaked, avoiding looking at the man altogether.
"You wouldn't happen to have something that could keep me warm, would you?"
The Seeker snapped her gaze up to the Inquisitor's face, expecting a hungry look in his eye rather than the innocent one there instead.
"I'm freezing." He prompted, giving her his usual goofy smile.
Cassandra almost sighed in relief, realising he was just asking for a blanket.
"I- yes, of course, Inquisitor."
She scooted away from Dane and reached into her pack, relieved that the woollen blanket that she carried was not damp in the slightest. Trevelyan frowned as she offered it to him.
"For some reason I thought you had two." He said, looking between her face and the material bunched in her hand. "What will you use?"
"I have not been in the freezing rain, Inquisitor. You should have it."
"Tell you what," Dane flashed her a grin as he accepted the gift, unfolding it so it billowed into the air.
"We can share."
The Inquisitor wrapped one corner of the blanket around his shoulder before shifting so he was sat against Cassandra's side. She tried to make a noise of protest, but fell quiet as he cocooned her in the majority of the material, discovering that sharing was in fact, rather warm.
[A.N] I can't resist all these cheesy cliches. Special thank you to H-Bomber, nugget4ever7, and DivaInSpace for all your kind and helpful reviews! [/A.N]