Several weeks had passed and Jemima had been on the road nearly the entire time, helping to establish camps throughout the newly scouted regions. They hadn't dealt with any of the major problems yet, deciding instead to secure a solid foothold before acting to spread their influence. During the course of these travels, they had finally tracked down the elusive Amrita Vein and, luckily had also managed to salvage some seeds, which could hopefully be used to grow their own stock of the herb. These had been found in The Hissing Wastes but, unfortunately, the party got pretty badly banged up in the process. No serious injuries, thankfully, but it was unanimously decided to steer clear of the region until they had all sharpened up their skills somewhat. On their return to Skyhold, the Inquisitor and those who had accompanied her were ordered to rest for a few days, allowing time to let the bruising, swelling, and Jemima's sunburn calm down before their next exploits.

Although Jemima was desperate to do all she could to help, especially after seeing what would happen if she failed in Alexius' future timeline, a large part of her couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the enforced time off. The first evening was spent enjoying a long bath, a beer and then her bed for a glorious, warm, uninterrupted and nightmare-free sleep. Awaking the next day, Jemima felt her mind was refreshed but her body was fatigued, the paradoxical after effects of having a proper rest for the first time after running herself ragged for weeks on end. She was also famished. And too knackered to be bothered going to the kitchen.

Chancing it, Jemima crept down the stairs from her quarters in her jammies, with bouffant bedhead, her arms crossed over her chest and a boob supported by each hand. She peeked her head out the door to see if there were any guards or servants kicking about to put in a request for breakfast in bed. A rare misuse of her privileged position, although she intended to make a dent in the stack of reports on her desk whilst eating and afterwards so, in fairness, it wasn't completely indulgent. There were no such staff to be seen. There were, however, half a dozen extremely well-dressed and coiffed dignitaries accompanied by Josephine. As Jemima noticed this, the Ambassador's eyes caught her own. Josephine's eyebrows shot up and her hand quickly covered her mouth in shock at the sight of their dishevelled leader. The Inquisitor darted away from the doorframe and scrambled back up the stairs to her room, jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head in mortification. Not a couple minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She sheepishly shouted to allow entry and Josephine ascended the stairs, stopping at the foot of her bed.

Armed with her clipboard and candle combo, looking concerned, she asked "Inquisitor, do you need something?"

"I was hoping to put in a breakfast order, sorry" Jemima grumbled.

"Ah," Josephine smiled sweetly, "I'm afraid that may be difficult as it is lunchtime already, your Grace."

"Really?!" She groaned and rubbed her face. "Must've been more tired than I thought then. And my name's not Grace. Did any of our guests see me?"

Smirking, the Ambassador answered "I think they merely saw the blur of movement as you retreated to your quarters. They were quite disappointed the Herald of Andraste vanished."

"Urgh, I wish that title would vanish" Jemima grimaced. "What did you tell them?"

"I explained that the Inquisitor has been working tirelessly to secure a peaceful Thedas and bring the Divine's murderer to justice," Josephine spoke quickly, as though she had repeated that line a thousand times. She then slowed and built to "that she heroically fought off Tevinter cultists on her most recent expedition and had been ordered bed rest by our healers as she has been pushing herself too hard. But that even those instructions could not keep her down and she is so desperate to return to duty that what we saw was her trying to sneak out of her quarters to valiantly lead the next mission but getting caught by our party. I am currently here to chastise you," although her playful look made that last statement even more incredulous than the previous lines.

"Wow," Jemima shook her head in amazement. "You even made me believe that! You're a true asset to the Inquisition, Josephine."

The Ambassador blushed slightly and nodded. "Thank you Inquisitor. I do what I can."

"I'm particularly grateful you left out the part about me being a lazy git looking for bacon" she grinned.

Josephine giggled and smiled at Jemima. "That would hardly be diplomatic of me to say now, would it? Speaking of which, I best return to our guests. I shall request that some food be brought to you shortly. Good day, Inquisitor, and I hope your energies return soon."

The Ambassador left the room, a picture of poise and elegance. Jemima stumbled out of bed and staggered over to retrieve the reports from her desk. She plonked them on the spare side of the bed, walked around, propped the pillow up against the headboard and snuggled back into her cosy position. The food arrived not long after starting on the third report and Jemima moved back over to the desk, eating, reading and writing, then just reading and writing for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time the sun had just started to set, she was completely fed up. Good progress had been made in her administrative backlog, though, so she decided to finally get dressed and go for some fresh air. She remembered the seeds that had been acquired and, therefore, headed to the garden. Horticulture was not her field of expertise so she asked the new botanist for a hand to ensure the precious seeds would sprout. Giving her thanks, she looked around and spotted Dorian and Cullen sitting at the chessboard. Deciding to join them, Jemima wandered over.

"Inquisitor!" The Commander jumped up from his seat and knocked over several pieces as a consequence.

"Relax, Cullen. You're allowed some time off, my man! No need to feel like you've been caught skiving" Jemima chuckled. If she'd been ordered to rest up for a couple of days, he was surely due a month by this point.

"Yes, of course" he mumbled.

"Ah, but now the board is tarnished." Dorian spread his arms whilst remaining seated. Shaking his head, he added "Tsk, tsk. We'll just have to call it a draw, correct?"

Cullen frowned. "I'm sure I can remember where the pieces were actually. Most of the ones that have been moved were no longer in play anyway."

"No, no, I've forgotten already and, therefore, have no way of corroborating your version," Dorian spoke whilst pushing the board away. "There would be dubiety over the eventual outcome so it's not worth continuing. Maybe next time, friend" the Tevinter concluded, looking into Cullen's eyes whilst absentmindedly stroking the end of his moustache.

The Commander looked as though he was about to say something in retaliation but glanced at Jemima and backed down. "I'll leave you both to it. Good evening" and started walking away.

Jemima grabbed his arm and implored "Cullen, wait, you two play again. I was just saying hello. I didn't mean to interrupt."

He turned around and shook his head. "No, I have plenty to be getting on with and, besides, I'm not in the mood to start a fresh game. Watch him, Inquisitor. He's a slippery one."

"Oh come on now, it's not Wicked Grace! He can't exactly hide a spare king up his sleeve, can he?"

Cullen gave a light chuckle. "Maybe not, but he will try to distract you. Good luck, Inquisitor" as he turned and left.

Jemima took the vacant chair and grinned at Dorian. "Don't remember where the pieces were, eh?"

"He was three moves from checkmate. Thank you for your timely intervention" as he returned the smile. "I've played him a dozen times now and can't even put up a decent fight. Woe is me."

"Too busy gazing longingly at Cullen to pay attention, I'd wager" Jemima winked as she reset the pieces on her side of the board.

As Dorian followed suit, he admitted "Hmmm, I can't even deny it. Maker, he's pretty." Stopping what he was doing, he looked up at Jemima and slightly frowned in curiosity. "What gave me away?"

"You were twirling your moustache as you were looking at him."

"Twirling my moustache?!" Dorian shrieked, then composed himself, remembering the serene surroundings. He hissed "I am affronted, Jemima Trevelyan. I do not twirl my moustache. Honestly, you are trying to make me out to be some sort of effeminate fop. Or an evil Tevinter caricature. Or even worse, an Orlesian! How very dare you!"

Taken aback by the sudden tirade, the Inquisitor racked her brain as to why Dorian had taken such offence. She slowly realised, "You don't even know you're doing it, do you?"

"Doing what? I have nothing to admit to as you are quite clearly making this absurd allegation up."

"Ok then. You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better" she huffed, but then thought she should clarify. "Well, you were stoking the end of your moustache, not twirling it per se."

Incredulous, Dorian spat "Then why did you say twirling? There's a ginormous difference between playing with my manly facial fuzz and twirling, I'll have you know."

"Oh, sorry, I thought they were the same thing?" Jemima, by now, was thoroughly bewildered.

"Urgh, Ostwick simpleton. I despair of you" crossing his arms. The Inquisitor looked around feeling somewhat chagrined, wondering if she should leave. After a few awkward seconds, Dorian calmed and shrugged in a gesture that could be taken as an apology. "But in answer to your earlier question, no, I was not aware of that particular nervous twitch." Sighing he continued "that revelation has sullied my mood somewhat. I detest being predictable. It irks me immensely."

"So I see, mister grumpy pants" Jemima teased, thankful the situation had been resolved.

"LORD Grumpy Pants, thank you." With a joking throw back of his head, he added "Pah! I don't know why I put up with you and your unending insults" finishing with a side smile whilst setting the remainder of his chess pieces.

The two friends started their game, chatting idly about their ailments, the book Dorian had just finished earlier in the day and Jemima's pyjama incident. The game was evenly matched, something that wouldn't have happened several months previously. The Inquisitor's skill had increased considerably in recent times, which she put down to real life War Table practice. As they continued their conversation, various Skyhold inhabitants passed them by. Minaeve pottered about with the herbs, Flissa just seemed to wander aimlessly. Neither drew comment from the two at the chess board, however, the sight of Mother Giselle walking past on her way to the small chapel drew a dirty look from Dorian.

"Her hat is an utter monstrosity" he glared as he made his move. Sitting back, he confided "I actually asked Sera to steal it for me so I could order some improvements but she refused because, and I quote, 'Andraste!' Not 'I can't swipe from one of the Maker's earthly voices' or 'thieving is wrong.' 'Sera, would you kindly procure Mother Giselle's hat for me?' 'No.' 'Why not?' 'Andraste.' Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?"

"Aye, she has an unusual moral compass at times, does our Sera" Jemima chuckled, moving her Queen into play. "So, what were these 'improvements' you were going to make?"

"I would have chopped it in half for starters and removed that ghastly, oversized triangle at the front. Then added some embellishments, maybe a smattering of piping, or perhaps merely dyed it to a softer, more flattering colour. Speaking of which, someone should really tell dear Mother Giselle that a lady with so ample a posterior as herself should NEVER wear white robes."

"Ooft! Settle petal! That was bitchy even for you!"

"Oh come on, that interfering busybody is hardly my biggest fan. Forgive me for not taking the high road on this occasion" moving his Mage to take Jemima's Tower.

Jemima shrugged "Fair play" and picked up a pawn to make her move. She stopped in mid-air after glancing up, just as the door from the hall opened to reveal the Seeker, presumably en route to make her daily devotions in the chapel. The Inquisitor hadn't seen Cassandra for a fortnight and her feelings of longing couldn't help but be revealed, such was the strong, physical effect the woman now had on her. Pawn still held in the air, Jemima tracked the Seeker's path slack jawed until the object of her desire disappeared behind the chantry door.

Dorian sat back and arched his fingertips together. "My, my. It appears it is my turn to tease now" he stated smugly.

Catching herself, Jemima completed her intended move with a blush and joked "what gave me away? Be warned- I may have a hissy fit if you point it out. Fair's fair."

"Oh please, the puddle of drool on the board would have made it obvious to anyone, let alone someone with such powers of perception as yours truly. So, the Lady Seeker has caught our illustrious leader's eye then? Ooo scandalous!" He teased further "was it the chains that did it for you? Worst case of Starkhaven Syndrome I've ever heard of. Filthy midden!"

"It's in spite of that unfortunate introduction, thank you" Jemima corrected. She was grateful that the subject had been brought up. It had been some time now and she had only spoken of her feelings to Varric thus far. Rationalising that it couldn't hurt to talk things through and would hopefully help her to be a bit less uptight around Cassandra, she decided to ask for Dorian's advice on the matter. "I could actually do with some help to tell you the truth. I have no idea how to tell her how I feel."

"Well, how have you expressed your interest in the past?"

"A click of the tongue accompanied by a wink and a 'hey!'"

"Oh dear." Shaking his head in dismay, he added "I'm guessing you only attracted the easiest slatterns in the Free Marches with that one?"

"Hmmm, yeah, you may have a point there. It did work though!" added with a cheeky grin. "Definitely wouldn't with a lady such as the Seeker" she sobered. Rubbing her face in frustration, she groaned "Urgh, I'm crazy about her. I know I've probably got no chance but... ach, I don't know. It's confusing."

Sensing his friend's discomfort, he quietly reasoned "well, as much as we josh, you're a good sort, Trevelyan. Just make her see that. Throw in a few playful, but subtle comments and you'll be fine."

"Thank you, Dorian, but I go to bits around her. Gibber like a fool or zone out and stare at her like a simpleton. I've got it bad."

The mage couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Not going to lie, I REALLY want to see this in action! Sounds delightfully cringeworthy" he smirked. "Nevertheless, if all else fails, just try to woo her the conventional way."

"What? Like candles, poetry, flowers, and all that shit?"

"Eh, less of the 'shit,' I feel" as he scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Yes, I know Cassandra can come across as the epitome of stubborn, hateful, dutiful rage that she does, but what woman cannot gush at being wooed?"

Sceptically, Jemima replied "uh, yeah, thanks for the advice on lady-killing, Dorian. Didn't realise you were so well informed."

"Of course I am" speaking as though this were the most obvious thing ever to be known. "No one can resist me when I set my mind to it. All part of the perfect Tevinter genes and the very best schooling. As prone as I am to criticism of my country, I shan't deny that it has served me well in the charm stakes."

"You're not short of confidence, that's for sure. Wish I shared that attribute. Regardless, I can't see Cassandra being the sort of woman who would react favourably to that kind of approach. I think she'd be more likely to decapitate the flowers and stab the poetry book."

"Stabbing a book?! That's pretty far-fetched, come on now. Even punching a bear would be more plausible."

"Ha ha! That would be AMAZING!" Jemima threw her head back in emphasis then moved her Mage to protect her King. "Thank you for the conversation, dear friend. It has been good to talk this through with someone. I have a trick up my sleeve that I hope will give the Seeker a hint as to my feelings. Until then, I shall endeavour to not embarrass myself too much in her company and make a few subtle compliments if the opportunity arises."

"Sounds like a plan. I wish you the best of luck. Certainly better than you have had in this game" as he moved his Queen to take the Mage. "I believe that is checkmate."

"Ah. So it is. Well played, Dorian." She stood up. "Anyway, I'm going to go for some supper and an early night. Hoping to receive clearance to move onto the next mission tomorrow. Would you be up to it?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I believe Blackwall, Sera and yourself fared much worse than I."

"Good stuff. I'll let you know as soon as I hear."

"Until then, my friend."

Jemima left the table and made her way to door that would take her back into the Great Hall. As she opened the door, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Cassandra. In surprise, Jemima jumped and let out a bizarre noise, part deranged laugh, part humming, and ending in an undignified squeak. The Seeker frowned at her in confusion. In fairness, Jemima's face matched her expression until she looked away in enraged embarrassment.

"I apologise for frightening you, Inquisitor..." Cassandra spoke stiltedly. "I was merely wishing to enquire about your health and to see when we shall depart on the next expedition."

"No need for an apology. I'm not entirely sure where that reaction came from" letting out a weak laugh. "I'm feeling much better, thank you, and we'll hopefully be in a position to set off tomorrow." Run, run away! "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to eat and get an early night to have any chance of that happening. Goodnight, Seeker. I wish you a pleasant evening."

Yeah, that aim of not embarrassing myself any further worked out really well. Complete and utter numpty!

The next morning, Jemima awoke at the first hint of sunrise through her drapes. Stretching into a long yawn, she was pleasantly surprised at how good she felt. Her bruises were now yellowing but were no longer sore to the touch, her grip felt strong once again, and her mind was eager to get moving. Deciding to dress properly, this time, the Inquisitor grabbed a quick bite to eat and informed Josephine and Cullen over the breakfast table that she intended to press on with the next expedition later that morning. After fending off several questions about her wellbeing, she eventually got the go ahead and sought out Dorian to inform him they would be setting off in an hour. Sera and Blackwall were still pretty sore so Varric and Cassandra were due for the next call up. Jemima descended the library staircase into the hall and made her way to the dwarf.

"Varric, my charming Kirkwall-ian friend," adding a mock flourish "would you do me the honour of accompanying our party on our next bold and daring mission?" Standing up and putting her hands in her pockets, "in, like, an hour?"

Fanning himself with his hands, he retorted "why Inquisitor, it would make me the happiest 'Kirkwall-ian' in the land!" Pausing, he added the aside "We're Kirkwallers, for reference. Call yourself a Marcher?" then returned to his best lady-that-swoons impersonation. "There is but one thing that would make me even happier in this moment and I believe you will share in that sentiment." He crossed his arms and nodded "it is done."

Gasping and bringing her hands to her mouth, Jemima excitedly asked "you don't mean?! It's finished?!"

"Yep. Hot off the press. Please tell me we have time to give the Seeker her gift before we leave?"

"I was just about to request her presence on the next expedition. Perfect timing!" Grabbing his arm, Jemima added "Oooo, let's go!" accompanied by gleeful clapping.

They walked down the hall together. Well, the Inquisitor skipped, more precisely. Thoughts of Cassandra jumping into her arms in appreciation flew through her mind, then pulling her into a fiery, passionate kiss, then saying 'to the Void' with everyone and falling to the ground together in front of the training dummies and... No, no, calm yourself down, Trevelyan. First of all, is your breath acceptable? Wish I'd washed my hair this morning. Does this belt buckle look strange and bulky underneath this tunic? Thankfully, Varric spoke to save her from the downward spiral of inadequacy.

"We're going to Crestwood next, right? Hawke's been there for weeks now."

"Soon, I promise." Noticing the clear annoyance on the dwarf's face to her answer, she tried to justify her actions. "From the nightmare future, we saw that Corypheus intends to assassinate Empress Celene. In order to prevent that, we need to secure an invitation to the ball at Halamshiral. To secure that, we need to start making some waves, politically, in Orlais. We're going to go to the Exalted Plains to try to bring some peace to the region. Word will spread via the ripple effect and the invitation will eventually arrive. That'll take time so the sooner we act there the better, and then we can crack on and go to Crestwood, etc, while we're waiting for the tales of our heroics to get back to Val Royeaux."

"Huh." Varric appeared dumbfounded. "I thought you hated politics? Sounds like you know what you're taking about."

"I like politics very much, believe it or not. I detest the Game, though, so I can understand why you would think that."

They reached the bottom of the staircase and spotted from across the courtyard that Cassandra was in her usual spot, demolishing dummies. Jemima's heart jumped into her throat at the sight of the Seeker working up a sweat. She was going to need every advantage available to her if this was to work.

"So," she nervously approached the subject with Varric, "did you manage to include the little request I made?"

"I did," he nodded "but you said 'subliminal' so it's very subtle. You might not even notice it if you read it yourself. Still pining?"

"Thank you, Varric" Jemima said gratefully but then grimaced "Yes. Very badly and oh so painfully. I'm hoping this might turn the tide."

"Fingers crossed for you, Strawberry" he finished, with sympathy in his eyes.

As soon as they strode over together, Cassandra sussed that something was afoot. After a bit of argy-bargy, Varric played the card up his sleeve and teased the freshly bound book in the Seeker's face whilst threatening to reveal spoilers. All pretence on Cassandra's side slipped immediately and she rushed to grab it out of the dwarf's hand.

"I... Thank you" and smiled directly at the Inquisitor. Jemima nearly melted right there and then but managed to stutter out that Varric was the one to thank. He merely smugly walked away, his enjoyment complete.

"I wonder if I have time for the first part."

"I'm really sorry, Seeker Pentaghast. As much as I'm desperate find out what happens next as well, I'm afraid I was originally on my way to inform you that we'll be heading off for the Exalted Plains within the hour. Bring it with you."

"No. It is the only copy and far too precious to take on the road. I will read it when we return."

"Then I insist, I will place it in the safe in my quarters. It has the only confirmed Sera-proof lock in Skyhold."

"I... suppose you are right. I do not wish her to use it in one of her childish pranks while we're away."

"It's settled then. I'll meet you at the stables as soon as possible."

Jemima walked back to her quarters. She had already packed the night before in expectation of the latest trip but her companions would be at least half an hour to be fully prepared. That went really well. She seems chuffed to bits with the gesture and I didn't go to pieces in her company for once. This is going to be a good day. She moved over to put the book in the safe but paused. Curiosity got the better of her and she flicked through the pages looking for the requested pairing. When she found it, she immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

Aye, subtle your hairy arse, Varric! 'The Finder of Non-Porky Pies and The Questioner.' Seriously?! You couldn't think of something other than synonyms for our titles?! Panic quickly set in. Shit, buggery bollocks and fuck-a-doodle-do! She's going to twig as soon as she reads this! And then promptly strangle me, closely followed by Varric for ruining her favourite story! Aw FUCK! What to do, what to do? Taking a deep breath, she thought it through. Right, I'm going to have to give her a fairly obvious hint about my feelings before she reads this and it slaps her in the face like a wet fish. So on this trip then. Just need to hope the right situation arises. I'll have another quick squint at this book to see if it has any good lines or tips.

The trip to the Exalted Plains was a great victory for the Inquisition. They had successfully cleared the eastern and western ramparts, Fort Revasan, and the Riverside Garrison of the Freemen of the Dales and their undead army. Ideally, Jemima wished to investigate the citadel they could see across the lake but that required the bridge being rebuilt, which would take a few weeks. These deeds would be sure to catch the attention of both sides of Orlais' civil war so she felt their task was now complete. Unfortunately for Jemima, battling unending swathes of corpses did not make for the most romantic of settings and, unsurprisingly, the opportunity to discuss more personal matters with Cassandra had not presented itself. On the plus side, she hadn't embarrassed herself in the Seeker's company any further over the course of the expedition, remaining determined and professional throughout. However, she also realised she was now out of time and unless she said something imminently, Cassandra would find out from Varric's heavy handed story, which would be bad. Very bad.

The party had gathered at The Path of Flame camp, expecting to be given word to return to Skyhold. Jemima's mind was buzzing from the frenzied creation of hypothetical scenarios she could try to create with Cassandra before they got back to their base of operations. None of these appeared to be particularly plausible- where would she find a white dove, studded leather gloves, and mini Orlesian cheese wheels at such short notice? She remembered her previous conversation with Dorian. Just be myself and make a subtle, playful comment. Do this just now and a couple more on the way back. Maybe some nice situation will present itself along the way and it can happen a bit more naturally but a wee comment now to start it off.

Varric started the group discussion. "So, Strawberry, looks like you've got all your political plates spinning now. We done here?"

"We are indeed. Time to find the horses and set off back to Skyhold."

Dorian was next. "Thank the Maker. I am in desperate need of a change of clothes. I've been unable to rid myself of the stench of corpses for days now."

"Didn't want to say, but now you mention it..."

Cassandra spoke last. "We have done well. I will ask Scout Harding to send word to Leliana that we are on our way."

Jemima froze. Think think think! Something witty and charming and subtle and in context! Think damnit! The long silence had now attracted the attention of the full group. Oh no, they're all looking at me now. Just say something! Anything! Wing it!

Jemima looked the Seeker directly in the eyes and whispered seductively a line she had somehow remembered from page 72- "not as lovely as you."

Cassandra gave out a Disgusted Noise™, chastising Jemima with "would you please stop this larking around?!" This was closely followed by her growling "I blame your influence, Tevinter" at Dorian, then promptly storming off. Dorian's expression changed from biting his fist in the most over-emphasised cringe that had ever adorned a human face to one of mock offence at the latter comment.

"Well, that was uncalled for" he grumbled after the Seeker. Walking closer to the Inquisitor, he commented "I see you decided to forego subtlety entirely then?"

"Too obvious?"

"Just a tad. Where in that peculiar little head of yours did that pop out from?"

"I have no fucking idea" Jemima quietly and dejectedly mumbled. "What have I done?"

Varric burst out laughing and wandered over, reassuring her "don't worry, Inquisitor. You've still got the new chapter to fall back on. I thought that was to warm her up? Why'd you jump right in there both feet first?"

Her frustration bubbled to the surface. "Urgh, because of that book! That's why! I had a quick read over the story and it's even more blatant than that shocking display I just made. 'The Finder of Non-Porky Pies' and 'The Questioner?'"

"Oh, this is just priceless!" Dorian chuckled. "I knew your writing was dumbed down, Varric, but this is something else entirely."

"Hey! I did what was asked of me. Last time I take requests if this is how I get treated" the dwarf shouted angrily.

Jemima put her hands up. "I'm sorry, Varric. I shouldn't have said anything. It was a silly idea on my part. You're not to blame. I apologise for letting my temper get the better of me there."

"It's a good thing I like you, Strawberry. Just don't involve me in any of this shit again." Varric stomped off to collect his horse.

"This is going to be a very awkward trip back" Jemima sighed defeatedly.

"True. The one silver lining, I suppose, is that although it wasn't done in the manner you would have wished, at least Cassandra probably knows how you feel about her now?" Dorian mused.

The return journey to Skyhold lived up to Jemima's prediction and was summarised by silence. Only the Inquisitor and Dorian were still on good terms and they dared not speak for fear of exacerbating the situation. When they arrived back, Jemima was called into the War Room for a debriefing on their missions, then immediately retreated to her quarters wanting some alone time. She lay on her bed with her arms behind her head, thinking over the events of the last few days. She was beating herself up internally when there was a knock at the door. Allowing entry, Cassandra appeared. Jemima jumped off the bed, flustered "how can I help you, Seeker?"

"I am here to collect my book."

"Of course. How could I forget?" She unlocked the safe and handed Cassandra the novel with a forlorn look. The Seeker took it gratefully and started to make her way towards the exit but paused and turned around. "Inquisitor, I was hoping we could speak privately?"

"Are we not?"

"Right. Of course we are." Cassandra was struggling, seeming as uneasy as Jemima usually was around her. After a pause, she managed to blurt out what was bothering her. "The flirting, with me. I've noticed it..."