Cullen's arm curled around Katrina's waist, and an approving pride filled him as she elbowed his stomach just right, forcing him to let her go. She slipped out of his grip and whirled to face him, daggers in hand. Pacing back a few steps, Cullen inspected her form. There were still more than a few ways past her defenses, but she was definitely getting better.

Still, the thought of her up against a well-trained chevalier made him blanch. It was what kept him pushing their training lessons, especially as the number of journals left to translate continued to dwindle.

Soon, she'd be heading back into the Lowlands, away from him. Even if they had agreed it would be a temporary separation, it still gnawed at him.

Without really meaning to, he put a bit more force into his next attack, and they both tumbled to the ground, her daggers flying from her hands. Katrina let out a sharp hiss as he thudded down on top of her awkwardly. Even as he shoved his hands into the grass, easing his weight on her, she pulled her arm up, cursing quietly and brushing dirt from a small cut near her elbow.

Cullen rocked back, moving off of her and darting over to where he'd dropped their water flasks at the entrance to their cove. When he came back, she was sitting up, fingers gingerly feathering over her arm. The cut wasn't deep or long, but he still felt guilt curling inside of him, regardless.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?"

With a laugh, Katrina rolled her eyes. Though she still had a rather thick accent, her Avvar was damned near perfect at this point. She had been dedicated these last two months, after all. "I'm not so weak that a scratch is something to fret over, Cullen."

He hesitated, his fingers trailing along the skin on her arm. With a sigh, he carefully poured water over the cut and examined it. It really wasn't anything to worry over.

Katrina pulled her arm free from his grasp with ease and then draped herself over his shoulders, pulling herself to him so that their noses were almost touching. "Though it is endearing that you care so."

With a grin, he leaned forward, catching her lips with his. She leaned into him, parting her mouth invitingly. He tilted his head for a better angle and—

"Thane?"

Cullen hadn't even realized that he'd guided Katrina back onto the ground, one hand tangled in her hair while the other slid up her shirt, until he was moving away from her, frown in place.

Jim stood just inside the cove. No doubt he'd noticed that his more recent interrupts had involved more than twined fingers or chaste kisses.

As Katrina let out a faint laugh—she always found more amusement in these things than Cullen—he considered just slumping down on top of her again, if only to hear her giggle out a protest. However, they had an audience, and such games would have to wait. He'd promised himself, after all, that he would never give his clan a reason to wish for his dear Lowlander to be gone, and so long as he was able to focus when it mattered, no one seemed to care much for his dalliance. He moved away from Katrina for the second time this morning and sat back, looking up at his warrior. "Yes?"

Jim shifted a little uneasily, as though he were embarrassed. Or simply uneasy. Cullen wondered what the man must have done to have it so that the Gods always seemed to send him Cullen's way when he was otherwise preoccupied. "Thane Everburning is coming to the hold."

"Again?" Cullen snapped, already on his feet. He'd heard that the White Feathers were settling in well, but hadn't expected to hear from them so soon.

"He'd better be on better behavior this time," Katrina muttered. She'd gathered their things and stood beside him, looping an arm with his and leaning against him. She'd finally gotten to the point where she didn't mind wearing lighter clothes—they still seemed ridiculously heavy by Avvar standards—and Cullen fought back a shiver when her skin pressed against his.

It was quickly getting to the hottest part of the year for the mountains, and Cullen had often mused about—if they were just approaching 'decent' weather by her Lowlander standards—what Katrina actually counted as too warm?

"He said he had a surprise for you." Jim said, stiffly. "That's all the scout would say."

"That's it?" Cullen asked, skeptical. He took his belongings from Katrina, strapping his sword to his hip. When his hands were free, he wrapped an arm around her, not bothering to hide the way his fingertips made their way underneath the hem of her pants. She certainly didn't mind it.

"Do thanes usually like to surprise one another?"

Leaning down to kiss her temple, Cullen shook his head. "Not generally. Most clans don't interact too often."

"Because loyalty is to your hold, not the Avvar as a people."

"Yes." Cullen grinned and hugged her closer to him. Since their ridiculously convoluted misunderstandings, both of them had been striving to understand one another's cultures. There were still a few hiccups every so often, but with the mindset that neither of them intended any ill will, things had been going well.

There certainly hadn't been anything like the "stolen brides" fiasco.

They'd added cultural questions—about the Free Marches not Orlais, for Morrigan's sake—to their nightly ritual, once Rosalie had returned from her scouting mission.

Rosalie had been in a rather fickle mood upon her return, mostly because she had found traces of the Lowlanders, but hadn't been able to find them.

Either they were still in the Wolves'—now the White Feathers'—territory, or they were evading her…somehow. Their movement patterns had been unpredictable and mindboggling, and she'd been upset to admit that she'd failed.

Branson had offered to go hunt them down, only to earn their little sister's ire. Rosalie had insisted that he wouldn't have better luck than she did.

Branson had gone anyway, under the guise of a hunt.

He had also returned, puzzled by his findings. The Lowlanders had, if Duncan was to be trusted, stated that they were after Katrina, and yet they did not appear to be actually coming for her.

It left them rather unsettled, but Katrina hadn't seemed worried. When Cullen had mentioned it to her, she'd shrugged and said, "Maybe they're just really lost?"

That was a ridiculous notion, if ever he had heard it. If these Lowlanders were out here hunting Katrina, they would obviously have been sent in part because of their skills with tracking.

The fact that she could be so casual about people who were out here to bring harm to her was a little disconcerting, though he supposed there was a chance that Cole had influenced that mellow attitude. The God tried his damnedest to make sure they didn't fret about things that 'didn't matter', and Katrina seemed to take his word more willingly than Cullen. He was a bit surprised, considering the rumors he'd heard of Lowlanders' feelings toward the Gods.

However, he'd already figured out that she hardly counted as a standard Lowlander. When he'd worried, she'd just cuddled closer to Cullen and gotten him off topic by letting her hand wander down under the sheets.

She was good at distracting him from most anything.

It was a power she, fortunately, used mostly for good, reserving it for banishing his worries rather than interrupting his duties as thane.

Rosalie was rather smug about the whole thing. She'd been right. Katrina was to be theirs, now and forever. As their nightly ritual resumed, and they worked their way through more and more of Rosalie's treasures, the duo had formed a sisterly bond.

Sometimes Cullen worried about what the two might be plotting, especially if he came into a room and they both looked up at him with 'No, we haven't been doing anything questionable' looks only to find reasons to be talking about the weather when he asked how their days had been.

Whatever they were up to, he doubted it would put the hold in danger, and so he let them have it. Branson was a little more paranoid, but even he had admitted that he at least trusted Rosalie enough not to set something important on fire.

Nodding to Jim, Cullen sighed. "And he gave no indication of what this 'gift' was to be?"

"No, my thane," Jim replied quickly. He held back the branches for Cullen and Katrina and followed them out of the cove as they headed back to the hold.

However, they'd barely made it a few yards when Cassandra jogged up to them. "Cullen!" she called out, picking up her pace until she could stop in front of him. "Thane Everburning has a…gift."

"Jim already told me," Cullen said, sighing.

"Did he tell you that the thane was on our scouts' heels?"

"The message had sounded like he was at least a day out," Jim objected, hastily. "I would have mentioned that."

"We know." Katrina reached out and lightly thwacked the back of her hand against his shoulder in comradery. He nodded to her and then furrowed his brow as Cassandra let out a disgusted noise.

"Apparently his version of giving us a warning is to send someone ahead by less than an hour."

Cullen frowned. "How did he bypass our scouts?"

"Oh, he would have just shown up, if they had not found him first," Cassandra muttered, with a firm shake of her head, as though so simple an action could rid her of Thane Everburning's presence. "He said that our hold was doing a 'good job' and that he was proud."

Cullen ran his hands down his face, taking in a slow breath through gritted teeth before nodding slowly. Turning to Katrina, he caught her hands in his and drew them up to kiss her knuckles. "I think we should part ways for now. I will deal with this."

"You think I'll throw something at him again, don't you?" Katrina mused, a slight smile on her lips.

He fought the urge to pull her to him and forget about that worthless thane. "Considering the daggers on your hips, that could end very poorly for a great many people." Even as Cassandra rolled her eyes, he cupped Katrina's face in his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I'll see you tonight at latest."

"And I suppose I will read." Reaching up on her toes, she kissed him before slipping her hands free and heading back into the hold.

…-…

It was apparently so stifling that the Avvar now slept during the hottest part of the day, to conserve their energy. Katrina was baffled by their inability to stand heat. They really would melt in Starkhaven. This was early spring, still-wear-a-light-coat weather. And yet all the Avvar acted as though water boiled as soon as the sun touched it, retreating into the safety of their huts until the shadows might again bind the world in remnants of their winter God's coolness.

At least she didn't feel like she was going to lose a finger to frostbite when she stepped outside anymore.

And her training sessions with Cullen warmed her up. Cullen in general warmed her up, really. It was enough that she could wear short sleeves and lighter leathers, in the least. The rest of the hold was either shirtless or wearing simple chest bindings, and half of them forwent pants, settling simply for kilts or loincloths.

It still made her shiver sometimes, looking at them. However, she'd managed to rein in her complaints about the weather, as there wasn't much one could do about such things, other than move. And moving was the last thing she wanted to do.

And they did keep telling her that it was warmer than usual, as though the Gods were tailoring the weather just for her.

That…

That made her dread the thought of the dead of winter in the mountains. She'd come through on the cusp of spring. In her home, it would have been warm enough for short sleeves by the time the ice was just beginning to thaw here. Now, she supposed the occupants of Starkhaven were donning light cotton tunics and dresses, using the 'gossip fans' to keep themselves cool as the temperature continued to rise.

Even with the threat of frigid snow looming in her not so distant future, she wanted to stay with Cullen, as she'd told him several times—yet he still asked her every now and then, as though he thought she would change her mind. Every time she slipped her arms around him or simply squeezed his hand and said yes, she'd somehow find herself swept off to a quiet nook within the hold where they could forget about the rest of the world for a little while. Sometimes she teased him that he was getting too caught up in their love affair, but he always chased her coy quips away with a brush of his lips and wandering hands.

And Lady, but that man knew how to use his tongue.

Katrina felt a slight flush to her cheeks as she thought about their last little tryst, when they hadn't quite been able to contain themselves long enough to get back to his home. Katrina bit her lip at the resurgence of those memories. He'd taken her behind a few large rocks that must have fallen from the top of the cliffs ages ago, creating an almost completely enclosed area, perfect for secret meetings and the like. It was just off the path she was walking now, to get back to his home.

As she glanced over toward it, remembering quite fondly how Cullen had lifted her up so that her back had been against the cold stone—for once she hadn't minded the chill—she paused.

She could swear she'd just seen someone slip back there.

It made sense that more than just Cullen would know of that little place—and their other hideaways, too, she garnered.

However, she would have to pass the nook to get back to Cullen's home, and she didn't want to eavesdrop. After all, what if it was Branson or Rosalie back there? She wished them happiness and all that, but that didn't mean she wanted to hear their throes of passion.

Figuring that if she walked by fast enough, surely whoever it was wouldn't have had time to get terribly far in their activities, she picked up her pace, intent on zipping past before anyone could be the wiser—and honestly, in that little hiding spot, it was pretty easy not to notice the world outside, so she doubted they'd even know she'd been by.

However, as she moved as quietly and quickly as she could, she heard something just as she came parallel to the outermost boulder.

"…coming along well, then?"

"Indeed, we should be finished within the month."

Katrina stopped without thinking. The second voice had been Morrigan, she was sure, but the first had been…

Dorian?

She sidestepped a bit closer to the rocks, abruptly forgetting that only seconds earlier she'd been intent on not listening.

For a moment, she couldn't hear anything, and she wondered if perhaps she was just crazy.

Finally, Morrigan's voice started up again. "I've managed to keep all the journals involving our clan and the Lions from the thane's little Lowlander, but it will be too suspicious if we don't find something. Every other clan near Orlais has been in the books." She paused before adding. "I think Thane Magicsbane is suspicious of us, as well."

"Has he said anything?"

That was definitely Dorian's voice.

"Not as of yet, but I fear it is a matter of time. He is probably suspicious that nothing has been found in regards to our clans already, as the books were hardly in order."

"Tell him the Gods must have wanted assurance of your safety, if he asks."

"Or I could simply leave with the last few journals. Most of them are in the common tongue. It will not be hard to translate them."

"If you 'simply' disappear," Dorian was saying. Katrina could guess the rest. Suspicions, blah blah.

How was Dorian in the hold? Were these places really that easy to sneak into? Glancing around, she carefully backtracked some ways down the path, to the side of the rocks that didn't have an opening to the outside world.

Carefully and quietly, she scaled the rocks, just high enough that she could peer into the little area. Morrigan had positioned herself so that she could see anyone coming into the little nook, which meant her back was to Katrina.

And she was completely alone.

Katrina furrowed her brow, stretching her neck as though she would find the Wolves' augur stooped down and hiding awkwardly nearer the ground.

Instead, Morrigan said something and then…

Then a little stone in her palm lit up, and Katrina could just barely make out the drum of Dorian's voice.

She wasn't sure how she managed, but she scaled back down the cliff face and hurried to Cullen's home. As she reached the door, Rosalie was leaning against the frame, waiting for her.

Even as she offered a short, monotone greeting, Katrina gripped Rosalie's arm and dragged her into the building, waiting until they were all the way in Katrina's room before letting her go. Even then, she ushered her into the furthest corner from the door before whispering. "Morrigan's hiding the journals that have to do with the Lions."

Whatever Rosalie had been prepared to say in response to Katrina's odd actions died on her lips.

Without prodding, Katrina did her best to parrot back what she'd heard, pacing as she explained the stone and how Morrigan must have been in touch with her clan the whole time, constantly giving them updates.

When she was finished, Katrina stared at Rosalie expectantly, though she couldn't quite place what exactly it was that she was actually expecting.

Rosalie stared back at her for a minute before rolling her eyes, her following question in her standard drone. "I take our reading lesson is off for today?"

Shortly after her first tumble in the sheets with Cullen, Rosalie had come to her, asking about how hard it was to learn to read. Katrina had been somewhat surprised, seeing as she'd been under the impression that the Avvar in general were not particularly fond of letters. Rosalie had confessed that her older brothers probably wouldn't be thrilled with the idea, considering it was considered weak to need to rely on the written word to make a point that a sword or voice could easily convey.

While Katrina couldn't quite see the logic, she figured it was another of those culture gaps that she might never come to fully understand. Despite not wishing to disregard the Avvar's traditions, Rosalie had pleaded. Her voice had even risen into a regular octave, and Katrina had been unable to leave her pleas unanswered.

It was somewhat fun to sneak around, teaching Rosalie something that Karina had always taken for granted. Reading and writing. She'd always known that only the more privileged were allowed such knowledge, but seeing someone so hungry to learn changed her world in some unfathomable way.

First, however, she'd had to teach Rosalie more of the spoken word in common, so that when they wrote, they weren't just spelling Avvar words phonetically. It seemed like a blemish on the Avvar's proud ways to do that.

As they'd worked out times to meet for their lessons and the like, Cullen or Branson would occasionally happen by and eye them with suspicion, Branson more so than his brother. However, neither of them had figured out what was going on, and the duo enjoyed the secrecy.

"Well, I suppose we could work on your reading, but don't you want to find out what Morrigan is hiding from us?"

"I like Morrigan," Rosalie murmured, shrugging a little.

"And what's that got to do with it?" Katrina hissed, leaning toward her conspiratorially. "I don't dislike her. Don't you want to know what she doesn't want us to know?" She paused and then added, "We could use the journals she's hiding for your next lesson."

At that, Rosalie straightened up a little. Despite still appearing mostly expressionless, she let her gaze wander toward the door and then back to Katrina. "If she's hiding books, it'd have to be in her room, yes?"

"I'd wager so."

Rosalie frowned. "Then we can't do anything. Cullen gave her that room as a guest. To invade it would be to say we do not trust her, and the clan would not take that well. They may tolerate her, but I promise you there are many here who are ready for her to slip up."

"Really?" Katrina's shoulders slumped. She'd noticed a few times how moods went fickle at the mention of the Wolf, but she'd just sort assumed that time—and Cole—was helping heal all wounds and whatnot. And of course, there was the detail that she and Morrigan were certain that Lowlanders had been behind the Veilfire Caverns incident. Though…they hadn't found proof of that yet, had they?

Or had Morrigan already found it? Was that one of the things she was keeping from them? For what purpose?

Katrina crossed her arms, finally ceasing her pacing. "We can't just…say…peek in the room quickly?"

"It is a breach of trust. We would either be shaming ourselves or saying she is no longer a guest."

Katrina crossed her arms, drumming her fingers against herself. "Hmm… There has to be a way to see them."

Seeing as Katrina never used the room she'd been given as a guest herself, all of the books they'd been reading were stored in there, and that was where they often came to read. That meant that they couldn't even wander into Morrigan's room claiming that they were just there to get more books.

"What if I was carrying a few journals out so that I could read outside and dropped them, and they bounced into the room—"

"Any extra books you'd come out with would be under scrutiny."

Even as Katrina turned to glance out the doorway to her room, trying to summon some brilliant idea, she saw Cole trotting in to see them. Perking up, she offered him a small wave. Rosalie followed suit, though she seemed a little puzzled as to who the young man was. That was the way it typically went with Cole, however, and Katrina couldn't find it in her to be bothered by it. By the time he left, Rosalie would have forgotten he'd ever been there.

"Swift fingers, silent steps. Items gone in a blink…or maybe just forgotten. A helping hand indeed. Is it blasphemy to ask a God to lift a book? Or common sense?" He stopped in front of her, shoulders ever so slightly slouched forward. "I don't know one way or the other, but I can get you what you want."

Katrina perked up. "Really? You know where she's keeping—"

Cole held up a finger to his lips and then pointed toward the wall. At first Katrina was lost. Was Morrigan eavesdropping somehow? His words brought clarity to his action. "You are needed in the thane's hall."

Rosalie and Katrina were abruptly alone in the room.

Even as Katrina tilted her head, glancing in the general direction of the throne room, Rosalie began toward the door. Her words similar to the strange boy's, the way most people's were after he'd given them a suggestion and then disappeared. "I think Cullen might need help."

Though Katrina considered that Cullen had preferred her staying out of the way while Garrett was present—she couldn't think of him as Thane Everburning, despite the occasional effort—Cole's words were very rarely so clear, and when they were, it was a sure sign they should be heeded.

The two of them headed over quickly. As they entered into the cave that housed the throne room, they first saw that Cullen wasn't seated at the naturally made throne, but rather standing a few feet from it, face drawn in surprise. Garrett and Fenris stood beside him, both facing two prisoners dressed in tattered cloaks and muddied shoes. Despite the wear, their garments were clearly of Lowlands origin.

As Katrina and Rosalie stepped through the mouth of the cave, Garrett's eyes lifted to them first, forming little half-moons as a grin split his lips. "Speak of the Lowlander, and she will come."

At his words, the two prisoners turned to peer over their shoulders, and Katrina felt her entire world grind to a halt.