Cassandra stared up at the peeling timber of the forge's roof. She knew only a few hours remained before the dark skies of night were replaced by pink dawn; and yet she still could not sleep.

"Ugh.." The Seeker groaned, rolling over in her bedroll.

Her encounter with the Inquisitor had looped in her head since he had pressed her against the cool stone of Skyhold's walls a few hours earlier; his mouth but a sliver of space from her own. She bit her lip as she recalled the sheer will it had taken for her not to pull his lips to hers. He had stroked her jaw with a tenderness that still lingered on her skin, even now.

Trevelyan was not exactly subtle in his feelings for her, but she had brushed them aside with her usual stubbornness. She had picked it to be something that would fade, a distraction that neither of them needed - a mistake waiting to happen.

'How wrong I have been..' She thought, fiddling absently with the frayed edge of her blanket.

Each time he shot her that small smile, brushed her skin in some innocuous way, even the little collection of gifts she was acquiring from him, had all fed the sparks of attraction deep in her chest. He doted upon her, and although she would never admit it out loud, she adored him for it.

'He's the Herald of Andraste. He's.. dangerous.' She argued with herself, sitting up in her bedroll.

The Inquisitor had become a man of power; power that spread over Thedas with each passing week. His hand was forever alight with that terrible green flame; shaping him into a weapon for the people. Word of his actions reverberated throughout Ferelden and Orlais, not to mention their troops, and Leliana's network of spies in every dark corner imaginable.

And yet, she thought of all the times he had helped, with no desire or hope of reward. Whether it was assisting a lowly farmer in finding his livestock, arranging favours for high-ranking nobles in Val Royeaux, or clearing out a cave full of undead. Combat had changed him, as it does everyone, but Cassandra knew Trevelyan remained good. Faithful.

The Seeker gave a resigned sigh as she slid out of her warm bedroll, deciding to get up and do something. Sleep would not come to her that night, not with so many nagging thoughts in her head.

She pushed open the door to the Tavern a few minutes later, feeling almost bare without the usual weight of her armour. Her honey eyes swept across the collection of tables and chairs. It wasn't often that the Seeker visited the Tavern, and she wasn't too sure why she had come here now of all times either.

Most of the night's patrons had left for the night. Even Iron Bull had tipped back in his seat, his peaceful snores echoing throughout the room. She took a tentative step towards the dozing bartender, feeling rather out of place.

"Mmh.. if you're lookin' fer grog, go ask them chargers. Bastards drank me dry."

The Seeker nodded at the stout man's mumblings, even though he couldn't see from his drooling spot on the bar. She turned to go back out the way she had come, feeling foolish for coming in the first place.

"Cassandra.."

Dane stood halfway down the steps from the second level of the building. His hair was mussed and his coat was askew on his shoulders; no doubt from the half-empty bottle of brandy in his hand. He stared at her open-mouthed from his precarious spot on the stairs; shocked to see her in what was usually a rowdy mess of drunken men and women.

The Seeker looked to the door, trying to ignore the sound of the Inquisitor's clattering footfalls as he drew near.

"Is everything alright?" He queried. His low voice had the faintest hint of a slur.

"Yes," Cassandra replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "I could not sleep."

"Me either."

There was an awkward pause as the Seeker stared at the ground. Cassandra avoided meeting his doe-eyed gaze, knowing it would stir up all the feelings she was trying to avoid.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" The Inquisitor offered, gesturing towards the door leading out into the courtyard.

Cassandra felt her head shaking of its own accord. "I.. Inquisitor, I don't think-"

"Then don't think about it," Dane replied. He reached forward and tangled her fingers with his own, clumsy, but sweet nonetheless. "Come on."

The Seeker sighed but allowed him to lead her out of the stuffy tavern and into the darkness of the grounds. The warmth of the day had disappeared when the Sun made its steady descent below the horizon, plunging Skyhold into the bitter cold that crept down from the mountains.

Cassandra felt her body erupt in goosebumps as they walked along the fortress walls, enjoying the atmosphere that came with the rise of the moon and the darkness of night. Insects hummed and chirped, nocturnal birds gave the occasional lark from the forests far below, and the heat of their breaths fogged in the frigid air.

She looked down at the joining of her hand to Dane's. Something in her head warned her she was getting too close; she could let go, tell him to stop and march off back to her quarters, head held high. It was drowned out by her heartbeat when he gave her hand a tiny squeeze, running his thumb along her knuckles in small, gentle circles.

The Inquisitor stopped all of a sudden, turning to face her with a guilty look. Cassandra almost bumped into him.

"I'm sorry - I should have realised.." He muttered. He set the bottle he had carried on the edge of the stone walls and removed his hand from her grasp. She almost frowned at the loss of his warm touch, watching as he shed his coat.

"I'm fine." She grumbled, realising what he intended to do.

"No, you're shivering." He retorted, taking his jacket and holding it open so she could slip her arms through. Cassandra folded her arms, giving him a stern glare.

"I can stand here all night." Dane teased, meeting her scowl with a playful smile.

"Fine." She relented, sliding her slender limbs into the sleeves of his coat. It was still warm from his body heat and his scent filled her nose as she nestled into the collar. She tugged the fabric closer to her face, secretly enjoying the feel of being wrapped in something so very him.

"Cassandra, about before.."

The Seeker looked up, seeing a worried frown replace the grin. 'He didn't mean it..' She thought with a sinking feeling.

"I shouldn't have cornered you like that. I'm not that kind of man," He said softly, staring into her eyes with earnest. "I need to tell you.. I.. Well, I'm.."

'It's for the best.' Cassandra chanted internally, trying to fight against the tight feeling squeezing around her ribs.

"I'd like to court you." He uttered, breathless from struggling to get the sentence out.

Cassandra stared at the Inquisitor, feeling warmth rush beneath every inch of her skin. 'What did he just say? Surely not..'

"In fact," Dane mumbled, reaching for her hand once more and sinking to the ground so he was knelt on one knee before her. "Lady Cassandra, Seeker Pentaghast, Princess of Nevarra.. Would you hereby accept the deepest of my desires – and allow me to court you - the most beautiful woman in all of Thedas?"

"You're drunk." She choked out; gaze still locked on the Inquisitor's beaming face.

"A little," He chuckled. "But that isn't an answer."

The Seeker squeezed her eyes shut, knowing despite the instinct screaming for her to accept, that she could not. She took a shaking breath, and opened her eyes to look back at the Inquisitor.

"You cannot court me."

He frowned when he saw the blank expression on her face, his blue orbs searched her gaze for some sign, some hint that she was joking. Trevelyan rose to his feet, glancing down to his hand when she slipped out of his grasp.

"Why?" He asked, disappointment so laden in his voice that it made Cassandra feel like the cruellest woman on earth.

"I.. I want to be swept off my feet, given flowers, read poetry by candlelight. I want the ideal. There is too much at stake, too much- "

"I can do that. You know I can do that." Dane interrupted, desperate to change her mind. She wasn't sure if it was the drink fuelling his confidence or not. Cassandra shook her head, backing away from him.

"The world hinges on our actions. We face death at every turn, Inquisitor."

"That doesn't change how I feel about you!" He argued, frustration brimming into his voice.

"It changes everything."

Cassandra turned on her heel and stalked away from the Inquisitor, the pleasant silence of the evening now deafening in her ears.

"Inquisitor? What are you doing out here?"

Dane ignored Cullen's bemused question, keeping his sullen glare fixed on the white of the mountains in the distance. The Herald sat on the edge of the ramparts, legs dangling into the nothing below and an empty bottle loose in his grasp. The Commander rubbed his neck awkwardly; unsure how to proceed with the silence.

"He's sulking."

Cullen turned to look at Leliana who had wandered up behind them, an amused expression playing at her lips.

"Sulking?"

"Mhmm," The Spymaster responded, sauntering over to where Dane sat and taking the drained brandy bottle out of his grasp. "Hungover, too."

Cullen mouthed wordlessly as she handed him the bottle, giving him a pointed look. Realisation dawned on the Commander's face, prompting him to turn back the way he had come on his patrol.

"So, how long are you going to sit out here, my Lord? Because we have been waiting in the War-room for some time."

Dane continued to ignore her, staring out into the mountains with the same angry expression he'd had before she arrived.

'Time to change tactics..' Leliana thought with a hum, reaching for the Inquisitor's shoulder and turning him to face her with some force.

"If you truly want her, stop sitting here and behaving like a child." Leliana chastised, keeping her grip on his arm firm.

"What would you have me do? Command her to reciprocate my feelings?" He demanded.

"Are you that blind, Trevelyan?"

"What do you mean?"

The Spymaster shook her head, feeling the all too familiar memories of counselling her Grey Warden friend come to mind.

"Why do you think she said no?"

The Inquisitor scrunched his face in confusion. "How do you even know-"

"Spymaster, remember? Answer the question." She interjected. He paused; the furious glare melting into a forlorn grimace.

"I'm not good enough. She wants the perfect man, Leliana. I'm just a nobody. A mage with a thimbleful of experience about the world." He turned his gaze back to the mountains.

"I should have known she would say no. She's the Right Hand of the Divine, Hero of Orlais, a Seeker of Truth. All I have is this Mark.." He snarled, curling his blazing hand into a fist.

"Even if that were true, do you believe Cassandra to be so shallow?" Leliana questioned, folding her arms and raising her eyebrow.

"Maker, no. That's not what I meant." Dane sighed, twisting from his perch so he could stand on solid ground.

"So what are you going to do? Sit here drunk every night?"

He blinked in confusion, sending the Spymaster a sharp look.

"Nothing. I must respect her wishes, Leliana."

"No, Inquisitor. That isn't her wish at all."

"But she said-"

"Hush," Leliana interrupted, giving the Herald a solid shake. "Prove it to her. Prove you can be that man, even with the weight of Thedas on your shoulders."

Dane held her serious gaze for a long moment. The Spymaster could see the gears in his head working; clicking into place as he realised she was right.

"Now hurry up and get dressed, my Lord. We won't wait forever."

The Inquisitor watched as the red headed Spymaster turned and disappeared into the group of soldiers training on the ramparts. He glanced down at his numb hands, a plan springing to mind.

"Varric!"

The dwarf turned from his usual haunt by one of the many fireplaces in the Great Hall. He smirked at the source of the voice, knowing who it was without turning around. The Inquisitor had burst into the hall, barely dressed and looking as if he had run through a storm on his way there.

"That's me, you're right."

"Yeah, yeah," Dane muttered, ignoring the tittering of the nobles as he slumped down into the chair opposite his friend. "I need a favour."

Varric leant back in his chair with a grin, steepling his hands.

"Let me guess.. You want me to finish writing Swords and Shields, right?"

The Inquisitor stopped mid-reply, his surprised expression turning into one of exasperation.

"Maker's balls. Can't a man have any privacy? I was looking forward to seeing your reaction that Cassandra even reads your books.." Dane mumbled, sighing into his hands.

"Sera beat you to it. Seriously, watch your stuff around her." Varric warned with a chuckle. He reached into his pack nearby, pulling out a thick sheaf of paper. "I'm almost done, in fact. But there's a catch.."

"Sure, whatever you want." The Inquisitor replied.

"Be careful who you say that to." Varric warned, setting the manuscript down on the table. "It's nothing major.." He trailed off, a sly grin pulling at his lips. "I get to be there when you give it to her."

The dwarf had to fight the rumble of laughter building in his chest as Dane glared at him.

"Really?"

"Yup."

Trevelyan groaned loudly, earning more pointed stares from the crowds of nobles.

"Fine, fine. How long until it's done?"

"Let's see.." Varric hummed, flicking through the heavy pages. "Give me until the end of the week. It'll be rough.."

"That's fine - no, that's great." Dane replied, a pleased smile on his lips. "Thanks Varric. Now I'd better get going before Leliana sends someone to club me over the head and drag me to the war-room."

The Inquisitor dashed from his seat across the hall, bursting into the Ambassador's office. Josephine jumped from behind her ever-present writing board, giving Trevelyan a confused look.

"Josephine! Just the woman I was looking for." Dane gave her the most pleasant smile he could muster.

"Oh? What can I do for you, Inquisitor?"

Dane paused, almost talking himself out of what he was about to say.

"Halam'Shiral. Anything you need; dress me up, make me dance, whatever," Josephine almost squealed in delight, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "But I must ask something in return."

"Of course."

"How do I court someone? No, not someone.." Dane corrected himself, shooting the Ambassador a confident grin. "I'm going to court Cassandra."

The Seeker watched the reunion from her spot in the courtyard. The Inquisitor's direwolf had loped in through the gates with little ceremony, only a few large pawprints into the dust of the fortress before Trevelyan had bolted down the steps and knelt before his creature. It licked happily at its master's hands, snuffling and wagging its furry tail in delight.

Cassandra was baffled by the entire spectacle. She had never seen the shadowed wolf behave in such a manner. It was loyal, certainly, but the only times she had got a good look at the creature was when it barrelled into one of her foes; a snarl curving around its massive fangs and blood dripping from its jaw. Never the doting puppy, like it was behaving now.

Dane straightened from his kneeling stance and turned to face the Seeker, apparently aware her eyes were on him. Cassandra fought the urge to look away from the Herald, giving him a polite nod.

"Cassandra." Trevelyan greeted, stopping a few steps away from the training dummies.

"Inquisitor. I see your.." She gestured to the panting wolf in between them, seeing its golden eyes bore into her own. "Has returned."

"They don't call you Seeker for nothing." Dane joked, giving his beast a well-deserved scratch behind the ears. "I believe I owe you an apology."

Cassandra shifted her weight, feeling discomfort creep up her spine. A few days had passed since the Inquisitor's heartfelt request on the battlements. She had studiously avoided him after that, though if it was for her sake or his.. Well, she couldn't be sure.

"It's not necessary, Herald. You had one drink too many, I understand."

"No," Dane felt his fingers twitch at his side, wanting to take her hand in his. "I don't apologise for asking to court you. I apologise for not being sober to do it."

The Seeker met his gaze, seeing a stubborn gleam in his eye that made her pulse quicken.

"You were right. We do face death at every turn, and there is an awful lot at stake," He continued, watching an array of emotions flicker across Cassandra's face. There was hesitance there, and confusion, but the one that brought a smile to his face was the glimmer of hope in her hazel eyes.

"But the way I feel about you isn't going to change. I would like to court you, Cassandra. More than anything."

The Seeker stared at Trevelyan, her face deepening into a scarlet blush.

"I know you say I can't, that it's too difficult," He took a step forward; extending a book he had hidden behind his back. Cassandra glanced down at what he offered, the heat in her cheeks blazing even hotter when she recognised the title. "But I'm asking you to let me try."

She accepted the book from his hands, relishing the feel of the smooth cover and the crisp pages.

"I.. thank you." She whispered, unsure how to respond to his words.

Dane gave her a sweeping bow, elated that she hadn't denied him. They shared one long look before he turned and left her to her reading, snatching the scribbled notes from Varric as he passed the dwarf's hiding spot nearby.

"Completely worth it." Varric muttered to himself, grinning ear to ear as Cassandra cracked open the first page of her new book.

[A.N] Thank you to all readers, and reviewers especially! [/A.N]