The journey home to Skyhold was slow and arduous. Evelyn grimaced as the path roughened, jolting her in the homemade pallet doing nothing for the sharp pain shooting up and down her leg. She had fought Dorian's suggestion that she ride on anything but her horse; refusing to risk her own pride as well as the morale of the civilians and soldiers the party was sure to meet by displaying such a human trait as weakness. She had lasted all of 2 hours on the animal before the ceaseless throbbing pain reached a level in which she was no longer able to hide her discomfort. Cassandra had been the one to notice the blood that had begun to seep from the re-opened wound. It had been Cassandra who had halted her horse and called out to Dorian. The concern in her dark eyes had, sadly, been the highlight of the journey home. The look in Cassandra's eyes spoke volumes even though Evelyn could see the disquiet laced within them – disquiet she was sure stemmed back to the promise the Herald had made when they were alone in the sick tent. The one positive that came from not having to lead the party home was that it gave her a very long time to think on how next to proceed with the raven-haired seeker. The idea, which at first had been ludicrous, had grown on her. She found herself looking forward to paying court to the Nevarran princess. The rogue grinned at the thought as well as what Cassandra would do if she ever found out that she had been referred to as such.
Cassandra watched the emotions playing out on the Inquisitor's face. She found it fascinating that one person could feel so many different things in the span of a few minutes. She had see the Herald grimace in pain, then smile softly as though deep in thought, scowl in angry and then laugh silently to nobody in particular. It was like watching a play but with no words. The seeker was entranced but the deep chuckle from Iron Bull helped to remind her that she was not alone and this was not the place for her to stare so unabashedly.
"Don't worry Cassandra, that scratch is nothing. Our Inquisitor will be good as new in no time and ready to take on a dragon!"
Cassandra scoffed, "I am not worried; I do not worry about such things. I know that the Herald of Andraste will heal – I too have suffered from an injury like the one she now bears. It will do no more than leave her with a nasty scar."
She watched as the Quanari shot her a curious look, his lips curling into a knowing smirk as he chuckled, "Is this scar in the same spot seeker, high on the thigh? If so, I would love to see such a thing and anything else you would be willing to show me."
Cassandra rolled her eyes, snorting in disgust as she spurred her horse ahead, leaving the Quanari captain laughing in her wake. She looked above the trees and caught the familiar outline of the fortress in the sky; they were close. Such closeness brought her back to the thoughts she had tried so hard to keep from her mind. The guilt at being a party to the reason their planned mission had failed, the flush as she remembered the fiery kiss the Inquisitor and she had shared alone on the dunes and the worry over the whispered promise of courtship the Herald of Andraste had given her. She did not know what to do or how to handle such a thing; even the vagueness of such a promise made her heart beat faster in her chest. Cassandra did not think she could go through allowing herself to be courted, but it was too late to stop now. She'd had her chance in the desert to end it all, but the pull of the Inquisitor had stopped her. She wanted to know what drew her to the other woman. She wanted to feel more of what the rogue was capable of igniting inside her and see an answering need mirrored in those captivating green eyes. She knew of only one other person who would know how to handle such a thing and she had no desire to spill her secrets to the master of spies. She could trust that Leliana would not betray her confidence but after years of turning down the subtle advances from the former bard Cassandra could not imagine explaining how this particular noble woman's advances were easier than the Left-Hand's to accept. She bowed her head; Leliana was the only choice; Josephine and Sera were the only other women she knew that might have an insight to what she was feeling, but neither was known for their discretion. She would not have her personal life becoming the idle talk of the keep. She grimaced and called back to her companions before once again slouching in her saddle. The longer it took to get home the better.
Evelyn scowled as she leaned against the soft pillows of her bed. It had been three days since she had arrived back to Skyhold. Three days since she had seen Cassandra. Three days since she had held her daggers in hand and known the sweet taste of freedom. She was beyond through with the healing process; it was taking forever. Even with magic, the muscles in her leg were still being stitched together and, had it not been for Solas's warning against unnecessary movement, Evelyn would have already been limping around the keep. She hated being waited upon, hated being ignored and, above all else, hating feeling useless. She had read every missive that had been lying untouched on her desk, she had responded to the various invitations sent by a myriad of nobles, she had even planned out missions for the next few months. She had read every book she could get her hands on but nothing quelled the unrest of her mind. She knew what she was missing and for three days she had fought the urge to order the seeker into her presence. She did not want to force Cassandra into her company but it hurt that the tall warrior had not yet been to visit her. She heard a knock at her door and felt a sudden thrill that perhaps her wish has been granted. The sound of Varric's gruff tone shattered that hope and she resigned herself to another game of Wicked Grace with the amiable dwarf.
Cassandra paced outside the Inquisitor's chambers. She had seen Varric go in moments before and felt irritated at his seemingly innocent timing. This happened every time she had tried to see Evelyn Trevelyan and Cassandra was losing her patience. She could only imagine the anger she was causing the other woman. Sighing, she turned on heel and almost ran into the hooded figure that had been hidden in the shadows.
Leliana enjoyed the rare look of surprise that shown on the seeker's face and bowed her head slightly before looking up and smiling.
"You have been avoiding me as of late, no? You aren't still upset that I disrupted you in the forge?"
Cassandra scowled. It was true, she had been avoiding the former Left-Hand but the incident in the forge had been completely forgotten up to this point. It was detestable to her nature to lie and so she had no choice but to assure the former rogue that the forge was not the reason for her avoidance.
"Yes and no Leliana."
The former bard smiled, "Such a duplicitous answer. I did not expect this from you Cassandra, but I am glad you hold no ill will towards me. I am also glad to see that you are no longer hiding yourself from the world."
The cleverly wrought words wrung a halfhearted smile from the seeker and Cassandra was reminded again of the clever and sharp wit that this woman was capable of wielding. She gave a half nod, acknowledging the truth of the words before attempting to make her escape. She did not want to be loitering around the hallways in case Varric were to re-appear.
"I should go Leliana, I have work to do."
The former Left-Hand accepted the excuse graciously and allowed the seeker to pass, but not before whispering in her direction, "She misses you Cassandra."
The warrior turned sharply and glared at the spymaster, who smirked in return. Cassandra stared down and snorted softly, "I am sure she does nothing of the sort. She has plenty of other visitors to keep her occupied."
Leliana raised an eyebrow at the hint of jealousy in the seeker's tone. So, it appeared that someone had cracked the indomitable warrior's shell after all; and that someone was, undoubtedly, the Herald of Andraste. She allowed herself a brief smile and shrugged her shoulders.
"Perhaps, but none of them are you. If you do not wish to visit when others do, then you should write her and arrange a time for the two of you to speak uninterrupted."
With that last piece of advice the spymaster turned and walked away, her quick mind working through what little evidence she had been able to procure to satisfy her curiosity over what else had transpired between the two women. Clearly something was going on but she would respect Cassandra's silence for now. She would be sure to watch the two of them more closely from now on.
Cassandra watched the retreating figure of Leliana and exhaled, lightly banging her head against the wall. Was it so obvious? Were her feelings for the Inquisitor stamped all over her face for all to see? It disturbed her how quickly Leliana had cut to the heart of her frustration. How much did she know? Cassandra sighed once more and stood at attention, her hand aching for a weapon to swing mindlessly against nothing in particular. The spymaster had given sound advice on the matter and though Cassandra was not a person in the habit of writing anything more than a report, she figured she should try. Truth be told she missed the arrogant noble, whose roguish smile seemed to only flash in her direction. She missed the honesty in the shining green eyes and the pulse of heat that could be created with just a single touch from a soft calloused hand. Cassandra nodded to herself; she would write the Inquisitor asking when she could come. After she destroyed one or two of the training dummies of course.
Evelyn picked at the quickly cooling stew that lay next to her. She had no appetite even though she knew that eating would help her regain her strength. The world was slowly losing the vibrancy she had discovered in the Hidden Wastes. After Varric had left, in came Iron Bull and Dorian, and then Cullen. Her companion's faces were a blur of color and conversations she neither wanted to have nor cared to remember seemed to run together. She had struggled to stop herself from inquiring about Cassandra's absence. Evelyn wanted nothing more than to scream her frustration and anger for the entire world to hear but she bit her tongue, keeping it hidden. It would not help her cause to be heard madly and loudly screaming from the seclusion of her rooms; the last thing the Inquisition needed were rumors that the Herald of Andraste was losing her mind. She had sent everyone away, almost growling in her simmering rage at the poor server who'd had the misfortune of bringing her this last tray of unwanted food. She felt as though she had been played for a fool; that everything that had transpired between her and the formal woman in the desert had been a dream. She picked up the tepid bowl of stew with the intention of throwing it against the wall when she noticed the carefully folded paper that lay beneath it. Frowning she set down the stew and slowly unfolded the paper.
I… am not a writer so forgive the errors in this. I… cannot stop thinking about our last conversation. I would like to continue it. I have wanted to see but you are always visiting with others and I do not dare intrude. I do not feel it right that I claim your undivided attention. I have not forgotten about you. Tell me when I should come and I will be there.
Cassandra
Evelyn instantly felt her body relax and she clutched the letter to her breast, feeling much as she did when she had been a youth corresponding with her first love interest. The note was short and precise but it spoke volumes. The darkening sky did not deter her desire to see the raven-haired warrior and she found herself calling for a messenger to deliver a single word response to the seeker.
Cassandra rapidly brought her sword down against the scarred training dummy. The habitual feeling of sliding from form to form was soothing. Her muscles ached from exertion and sweat dripped steadily from her brow, but she felt better than she had in days. A great weight had been lifted from her conscious by writing that letter, though there was much in it she did not say. She had kept it vague in hopes that if it were intercepted the reader would not know all of that which she spoke of. She raised her sword up, halting as a flash of movement caught her eye. She looked quizzically at the flustered woman who stood before her stammering an apology for interrupting. Cassandra huffed in annoyance and rolled her eyes, her voice coming out much more scathing that she had intended.
"For the love of the Maker, what is it?"
The young woman's eyes grew wide and she swallowed as she avoided the dark glare of the fierce woman in front of her. She felt foolish for interrupting such an important person to deliver a single word; but that was what she had been ordered to do. She dared to look back up and bit her lower lip in her embarrassment, her voice stuttering slightly.
"The Herald of Andraste sent me my lady. She sent me to tell you now."
Cassandra narrowed her eyes at the stammering youth as the corner of her mouth turned downward. She arched an eyebrow at the slip of a girl.
"Now? She said to tell me now? Did she say anything else?"
The young girl shook her head no, keeping her eyes downcast. She felt woefully inadequate in this duty and she prayed fervently to the maker that the intimidating warrior in front of her would simply accept the message and send her on the way. Her prayers were answered when the seeker dismissed her. She nodded and scurried away before she could be asked to do anything more.
Cassandra watched the messenger flee and shook her head as she tried to ignore the warmth that a single word had caused to spread through her body. She lamented the fact that she had worked up such a sweat. She did not want to go before the Inquisitor reeking of the training field; she did not want to visit the Herald's chambers in partial armor either. The warrior weighed her options and decided that the impatient noble would have to wait until she made herself more presentable.
Evelyn drummed her fingers against her injured leg, wishing there was a better way to tell time than by the sun's position in the sky; such techniques did not help when the sun had long since faded to night. Surely Cassandra had been given the message by now, although knowing the seeker, she would hardly drop everything she was doing simply to come running at the slightest crook of a finger. She picked up the latest report concerning the red templars and sighed as she forced herself to focus on the words while she waited.
Cassandra slowly ascended the two flights of stairs leading to the Inquisitor's quarters. It was strangely quiet, offering her a moment's reflection. She recalled the last time she had been here, relaxed from wine and good conversation; pliant under skilled hands and lips. The seeker felt a warm flush permeate her body and let a small smile grace her lips as she recognized the feeling of anticipation. A feeling not wholly new to her but that she should feel it for the Herald and for this moment surprised her. Cassandra reached the top and stopped, her lips curving in amusement as she saw the sleeping figure in the large bed, reports scattered everywhere. She stepped forward, halting at the foot of the bed and studied the Inquisitor in her quiet repose. Even in sleep, her eyes were drawn to the rogue and Cassandra resisted the urge to reach out and touch the woman. She frowned slightly, defying the unfamiliar urge. Instead she busied herself as she carefully picked up the papers that rustled in the light breeze blowing in from the balcony. Cassandra placed the papers on the desk and gently closed the open door against the chill that was quickly settling into the room. She did not know how the Inquisitor could stand such cold all the time. Worried that she was intruding and cautious that any further actions on her part might wake the sleeping woman, the seeker made a move towards the stairwell. She swallowed the disappointment that her visit must once again be postponed. Not wanting the Inquisitor to think that she had not come, Cassandra stopped and turned back towards the desk, intent on leaving another small note to let Evelyn know that she had kept her word. She scratched her message into one of the blank sheets of vellum that littered the Herald's desk, halting as she heard her name cried out. She looked towards the bed, brow furrowing in concern as she witnessed the Inquisitor thrashing in her sleep. Worried that she would tear her wound open again, Cassandra moved towards the bed and rested her hand against the younger woman's brow, letting her fingers slowly stroke through soft red locks. She was startled when long lashed parted quickly, revealing flashing green eyes.
Evelyn jolted awake from the nightmare feeling an odd sense of delirium as she looked up to see the seeker so close. Her eyes quickly found the dark hazel gaze that stared down at her and she jolted as her body registered the seeker's warm caress against her hair. The adrenaline rushing through her body, produced by the vivid dream, melted away – replaced by the warm hum of desire awakening. She struggled not to lose herself in the light touch as she tried to find her voice.
"You came."
She watched as the seeker nodded, the calloused hand falling to her shoulder as the familiar voice husked softly, "You were dreaming?"
Evelyn nodded, disappointed when the warm hand fell away. She tore her gaze from the seeker's not wanting her to see the mix of emotions Trevelyan was sure were swimming in her eyes. She was grateful that she had awakened; this particular nightmare had been new and it was not something she ever wanted to share with the warrior. It had began as most of her nightmares tended to do, with the world around them burning and her companion's bodies lying discarded or burnt beyond recognition. What made this nightmare different was that it had been Cassandra and not Corypheus who appeared to be the cause. Evelyn had seen her much as she had been the night she ignited the lyrium inside the mages; eyes black, hands fisted – but in this dream her body glowed as if fired by the red lyrium they had all been fighting to contain. When she spoke it sounded as though many others spoke through her, a plethora of accents and tones blending into a single sinister hum that infected all who heard it with despair. The Inquisitor took a moment to shake her head, trying to clear her mind of the images that assailed it. She watched the seeker pluck up the stool that had been in front of the fire and set it down next to the bed.
"Tell me about it."
Evelyn shook her head no and flashed the seeker a small smile, "Let's table that discussion for another time. I'd rather enjoy your visit than get mired down in something so dreary."
Cassandra studied the Inquisitor, curious as to what had made the young woman call out her name in her sleep. Whatever the reason it could not have been good, not when her face had shown such relief in being wakened from the nightmare. Cassandra shelved her inquiry; she had missed the rogue too much to risk starting an argument about so petty a thing. Instead she changed the subject, focusing on the reason she found herself, once again, in the Herald's chambers.
"How is your leg healing? Do you know when you will be able to resume your command?"
Evelyn grinned. It was so like Cassandra to focus in on such a thing as one's duty at a time like this. Night had fallen and they were alone, free from wandering eyes and listening ears; alone in a dimly lit room, with a bed large enough for two. The Inquisitor stilled her imaginative mind accepting, with regret, that she was in no shape to try and seduce the spirited seeker. She leaned back, remembering the warrior's comment about a similar scar and felt her grin widen to a leer as a thought took shape in her mind.
"Would you like to see the scar? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
The line was delivered with a wink and Evelyn enjoyed watching the olive skin turn slightly pink. She waited, expecting a blunt refusal but, to her astonishment, the seeker stood and began unlacing her fitted breeches. Trevelyan felt as though she had been punched in the stomach and swallowed hard as her eyes were drawn to the flesh that was being exposed to her so willingly. She felt her jaw grow slack as the warrior slowly inched down the skintight leather to her knees, exposing the long jagged scar that rode at the edge of her inner thigh. She tore her eyes from the scar to look up into a face alight with bemusement and listened as the seeker recounted how such a scar had come to exist. She fought the stab of jealousy that pierced her as Cassandra told her the story of how her former lover had been the first mage she had allowed to touch her and how his inexperience in combat somehow had worked to draw her to him. She acknowledged that had she not allowed him to do so, she might have sustained permanent damage to the muscle as well as her ability to fight.
Cassandra wrestled with hiding the smirk that threatened to come out of hiding at seeing the look of disappointment on the Inquisitor's face when she abruptly pulled the tight leather pants up and re-laced them. She sat down on the stool and gave the woman a pointed look before reminding her of the debt she now owed.
"I believe the next move is yours Inquisitor."
Evelyn could see the woman's lips twitching as she fought to hide her amusement. She knew the affect she was capable of inducing as well as the unlikelihood of any action coming from such a tease in the wake of the injury that kept the rogue in bed. The Herald narrowed her eyes at the warrior before allowing a lazy smile to grace her lips, her hand lightly gripping the edge of the sheet. Slowly she pulled the thin material away, exposing her naked leg to the cool night air and the heat of the seeker's gaze. She watched as dark eyes traveled down the length of her body, pausing to wince at the sight of the angry raw welt that marred the otherwise unblemished skin of her thigh. She let the warrior look a moment longer before yanking the sheet back up, her voice a coy whisper.
"There, as promised; a scar for a scar. Never let it be said that the Herald of Andraste goes back on her word."
Cassandra tried to ignore the now familiar tension that had grown between the two of them in the span of a few moments. The air felt dry and, despite the now glowing embers of the fire in the heart, the seeker felt as though she was sitting in front of a blazing inferno. She found her gaze returning to full lips, transfixed as she felt herself being drawn in. Desperate to break the woman's pull on her, Cassandra asked the question that had been haunting her mind since that last night in the Hissing Wastes.
"You don't actually intend to go through with courting me do you?"
Evelyn almost laughed but stopped on account of the look of acute discomfort that marred the seeker's beautiful features. She tilted her head to the side, her brow furrowing as her mind struggled to find the right way of answering such a question.
"Why do you think I invited you to my chambers?"
Cassandra blushed, taken aback by the rogue's bold statement. She stammered, "Surely this is not courting to you? What about the flowers, and the candlelight and the poetry? Commanding someone to your chambers is not courtship it is… it is… seduction! Badly planned seduction!"
She stopped as laughter rang out in the chamber and watched as the redheaded leader almost doubled over in unchecked mirth. Baffled by the unexpected response, Cassandra crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited for the Inquisitor's hilarity to cease.
Evelyn lay back against the headboard and exhaled deeply; she hadn't had a laugh like that in ages. She chanced a look at the seeker, noting that she was close to losing her guest. Quickly she reached a hand out and boldly touched the warrior's knee, as she looked into the storm that brewed in the unreadable hazel eyes.
"I did not ask you here to seduce you Cassandra, truly. I invited you here so that we might talk. I want to know you better, I want to understand the things you like and expect when it comes to a proper courtship so that I can do all that you dream and more. I do not wish to fall short of your expectations in the matter."
The Inquisitor stopped, afraid she had revealed too much to the inflexible warrior. Her fears were diminished as she watched the seeker's stoic features melt into a rarely seen genuine smile. The change was achingly beautiful and Trevelyan could not name a single thing she would not do to see such a smile again. She carefully lifted her hand from the seeker's knee, surprised when the seeker leaned forward and pressed their lips together in a brief kiss; her voice warm as she whispered softly.
"Good answer. I look forward to seeing what it is you come up with in the days to come."
Evelyn stilled the urge to pull the woman's lips back against her own and watched as the tall warrior strode towards the steps that led to the great hall. She paused before turning once more, her voice softy echoing throughout the room.
"Goodnight Evelyn."
The Inquisitor felt her lips curve into an easy smile and folded her arms behind her head as, once more; she lay back on the bed. It was the first time she could remember the seeker using her given name and could not recall it sounding as sweet from any one else. Her mind buzzed with new ideas of how best to woo and win the seeker's stubborn heart; flowers, poetry and candles were too mundane, although it gave her a starting point. Her vigor restored she reached for the stew and ravenously consumed the stone cold concoction; resolving to do all she could to heal her body so that she could pursue her heart's desire unfettered by injury.