This journey was more leisurely paced, but no less intense for that. Cullen sawed through long, deliberate strokes while she watched, his eyes more challenge than invitation. Cassandra could only stare helplessly as his arms flexed, his legs pistoned, and his chest rose and fell with his steady breath.

The sun was still bright, and the thin sheen of sweat over his skin only enhanced the hard lines of his well-used body. Clearly a man who hadn't sat back idle, and it was easy enough to trace the scars he'd taken in his life as a fighter. One that started high on his shoulder and traced down to his chest, stopping just short of his nipple. Another softer one, more recent, that wrapped around his flexing waist to disappear where her eyes couldn't follow. A third that was more puncture than line, just above the dangerous line of his pants, that she needed to touch. She clenched her hands into fists to keep them still.

He was trying to kill her, clearly.

Eventually it was speak or go mad."You're showing off again." She strove for accusing but ended up at frustrated.

"I am," he said. He never stopped moving. "I thought you might like it. Do you?"

She had no choice but honesty. "Yes."

"Good," he said, shooting her a lopsided smile. "At least there's one part of the evening you'll enjoy."

When they reached the line of the harbor, he grabbed the cloth from the bottom of the boat and wiped himself off, then re-buttoned his shirt before moving on. She made a small sound of disappointment but smiled when he said nervously, "I don't need to show off for all of Kirkwall."

When they docked he didn't clamber out of the boat until she was safely on land, keeping the boat steady to save her from herself. She briefly considered being annoyed with him for coddling her, but his large, firm hand on her back after their separate voyage was worth any loss of dignity. And these shoes of Leliana's were not as stable as she would like. Though the moderate heel did bring her into direct alignment with Cullen's eyes, which had its own benefits when he was next to her, watching her nervously.

"Thank you," she said. She reached out to re-arrange the shoulders of his shirt, something that didn't need the adjustment. But she did need to see leap of fire that blazed briefly at her touch.

"Anything you need." He cleared his throat and gestured to the shore. "After you."

The restaurant was a considerable distance from the pier, likely to get away from the smell of the harbor, but once again Leliana's shoes were not well-suited to the task at hand, and Cassandra spent much of the last leg glaring at them as if she could melt them away. Only when she realized that Cullen was becoming alarmed did she make an effort to find a semblance of social graces and ask him about the city around them.

The conversation covered them until they arrived at a place so ornate that Cassandra was glad she'd taken Leliana's advice on her clothing. Though based on the deference they received, they happily would have allowed her inside in full plate mail. They'd barely entered the gilded doors before being whisked off to a prominent table on a raised dais, the head waiter murmuring subservient comments before withdrawing.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "It seems Kirkwall is well-aware to whom they are indebted for their current peace."

"I've done very little. More likely they're looking to impress an agent of the Divine."

She looked around her at the crystal glasses and expensive decorations and laughed. "Mostly people attempt to impress us by showing their humility rather than their grandeur. Justinia is known for her severity."

"Would you prefer something different?" asked Cullen, looking down at his hands. He toyed with a ring he wore on his middle finger. A ring equipped with a defensive enchantment, Cassandra noted absently. He twisted it around twice before adding, "We can leave."

"I think the staff would be prostrate were they to lose you now," she said. "This is fine." She glanced at the menu an unobtrusive waiter had placed in front of her. "What do you recommend?"

"I've never been here," said Cullen, picking up his own. "I'm sure it's all good."

She looked up curiously, but he was studying the paper with a furious determination. Why would he bring her somewhere he'd never tried himself? In her experience men chose comfortable locations for their assignations. And it wasn't hard to imagine a man like Cullen entertaining an endless line of women, so he surely had a usual place of that entertainment. Why wouldn't he use someplace this impressive?

Unless something prevented him. She looked more closely at the menu as a waiter poured them unasked-for wine and realized there were no prices listed. Which usually meant the prices were beyond paying, for those who needed to look. "You need not worry about the cost," she said reassuringly. "I've brought enough coin."

"No!" he said, then took a long swallow of his drink without bothering to enjoy it. "I mean, that wouldn't be right. I invited you. And I have my own coin. Templar life doesn't allow much time for spending my pay."

Cassandra thought about arguing - even a man with savings shouldn't have to spend them on her - but his face was so strained she thought better of it. The tension between them was unbearable, and not the sort in the boat, the kind that held the promise of pleasure at the end. She took a small drink of her own, considering, then said, "Cullen, I apologize that I wasn't more congenial on the way here. And I'm sorry if I've irritated you by it."

He finally looked at her, and the brown pools of his eyes were bright with surprise. "I didn't notice any lack of graces. Besides, I could never be irritated with you. Even if you were being irritating, I'm sure I'd be just as charmed as usual."

She blushed at his obvious sincerity - he was no flatterer - but she held his gaze steadily. "Then what's wrong? Tell me what I've done."

"You haven't done anything," he said. He sighed. "It's me. I've… never done this before."

"Yes, you said, but this restaurant seems quite nice."

"Not that," he said, fiddling with his wine glass. "Any of this. Anywhere. With any woman."

"I don't understand," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You were with Hawke. And you certainly don't kiss as though you're celibate."

His cheeks flamed a bright red, and Cassandra snaked her hand out quickly to stop his glass from spilling. Her fingers brushed his own, and he jerked back, even redder than before. By the time they were sorted out and relatively calm, she assumed he would move on to another topic, but instead he said quietly, "I'm not celibate. Maker knows it, and I hope forgives me for it, though it's nothing improper. Women I've met through patrolling, or those well-intentioned meetings in my office. They've never… required dinner of me. And by the time I remembered I should have been asking, they've moved on." He looked at her with a touch of chagrin. "I think I bore them."

A waiter interrupted them with more wine and to take their orders, and Cassandra chose blindly from the list in front of her. She was far too focused on Cullen's words. Bored of him? Impossible.

After the man left, she said as much. "We've not yet slept together, but based on what has already occurred it's inconceivable a woman could be bored of you." When he blushed again, she added, "I'm sorry if that was too blunt."

"I like your bluntness," said Cullen, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Even when it makes me uncomfortable, I like it. You don't hide yourself."

"There is no point in hiding myself. I would only be caught out."

He laughed, but not unkindly, and his fingers went back to the stem of his glass. "Well, anyway. I didn't mean bored with that. I meant with me. My conversations. My mind. I've been only a few places, and the ones I have been aren't particularly impressive. Or fond to remember. I've essentially trained as a soldier my entire life, which isn't the most romantic profession. And I'm no wit. Even if I had invited a woman to dinner, I doubt I could have entertained her well enough to make it worth the time."

"Why did you invite me, then, if you feared your ability to entertain so much?"

"You're different," he said quietly. "I want it to be different. I've never engaged with a woman intending only to bed her, even if that ended up being the only result. But when Leliana made me realize that I was preparing to repeat old patterns with you, I knew I couldn't risk it. And this all," he waved around them, "seems to be the way to find out if you'll be sick of me before I lose too much of my heart."

Her own heart fluttered and danced at the vulnerable look on his face, but her mind caught on a word. "Leliana? She advised you to this date?"

"No, not directly. She just asked when I was planning to officially begin, well, courting you, and I realized I'd gone too far already," he said, embarrassed. "Not that I could control myself any better even after I'd resolved to do so. If she hadn't been there last night…"

Cassandra cursed past-Leliana mentally. Yes, she'd been glad he'd backed away at the time, but after a long, half-dressed journey, she keenly felt her loss.

Cullen continued, oblivious, "Actually it was Varric who gave me the true advice. I knew that he would know a place suitable to bring a member of royalty, here in Kirkwall. My own knowledge of the city is mostly about the backstreets and alleys, not Hightown dining."

"I have not been royalty since I was a child," she began, then stopped short. "Varric was the one who directed you here?"

He nodded, brow creased, but she hardly noticed as she half-rose in her chair and looked around.

It was unnecessary. A familiar, smiling face looked at her from a table on the level below. Varric waved as she glared. "Hello, Seeker. Don't mind me." He was surrounded with writing supplies, sheets of paper covered in hasty writing, and half of a very fine dinner.

Cullen followed her gaze, then put his head in his hands.

"You!" she said, but she didn't have time for anything more before the waiter rematerialized.

"Seeker Pentaghast, is there a problem?"

She whirled to face him. "Yes! I want that man removed immediately. Wait," she said. The surrounded tables were watching her curiously, but she tried to ignore their curiosity. "No. He hasn't finished his dinner yet, and that would be unconscionable with your fine meals. Please simply move him to a table as far from our own as possible. One where nothing can be heard."

"Of course, Lady."

Varric protested as they dragged him away, but not strenuously, and Cassandra knew that he must have already gotten whatever he needed. Likely starting a new serial about a self-defeating Knight-Commander and a Seeker who murders a dwarf, she thought sourly. She sat back down carefully and looked at Cullen, a little ashamed. "My apologies for causing a scene."

"I should be apologizing for my lack of discretion. He's invaded your privacy," said Cullen heatedly. "There's nothing more dishonorable, and you don't deserve to be treated that way."

She laid a hand over his clenched fist and rubbed it soothingly. "Your concern is very kind, but I can handle Varric."

"Of course you can. Of course. I just -" He broke off and sighed. "Everything is going exactly as I feared."

He looked so defeated. Cassandra tried to find a way to soothe him. "Cullen, this has no effect on my opinion of you. Except to possibly increase it, both for your consideration for my tastes, though it was unnecessary, and for your chivalry, which is very gallant," she said. She looked down at herself ruefully. "If it will ease your concern, all of these clothes are Leliana's. I had nothing suitable to wear to a place such as this. Neither of us are well-practiced at formality."

He turned his hand over to meet hers. "You told that waiter what to do as easily as if you came here every night."

"Some attitudes are hard to forget," she said shortly.

"I see," he said, though it was clear he didn't. "Well, I do know that you wear those clothes far better than Leliana ever could, so I'm very glad she gave them to you."

A shiver ran up her arm as his thumb traveled over her palm in a feather-light line. He breathed in sharply when her own finger traveled up his wrist, and he pulled his hand away abruptly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't seem to stop myself."

"Is that why you brought me here with your shirt in the bottom of the boat?"

She'd meant it to be teasing, but he looked away. "I know what I have to offer, and what I don't. I suppose I'd hoped that the one would outweigh the lack of the other, even if you didn't enjoy my company here."

Their food arrived, forestalling a reply, and several minutes of tedious conversation and place-setting followed. The head-waiter also joined to apologize profusely for the seating arrangements of Serah Tethras, and offered any number of compensations to ease their discomfort. She had quite a time waving him away without accepting anything, especially with Cullen's fervent, friendly nodding to the man, but eventually they left her free to speak.

As Cullen picked up his fork, she cleared her throat. He paused and looked at her expectantly, with a hint of fear. "Cullen. As you believe you are uninteresting to women, I will take this meal to find the truth of this myself. As a Seeker, this is my right and my duty. So, you must tell me about yourself and your life in whatever detail you deem sufficient, and at the end I will judge fairly and make my decision about our future relations accordingly."

A smile graced his lips by the time she finished speaking. "And will you be honest?"

"I will," she said. She picked up her own silverware decisively. "I want to take you to bed very much, but a Seeker cannot be influenced by her own desires when searching for the truth."

His mouth dropped open. She reached across the table to close it with her finger, then finally smiled at him as she settled back to begin eating. At a nod from her, he did the same, then said, "Well, I was born in Ferelden, in a very small town, on a farm. I have an older sister, Mia, and she's almost as unsettling as you are…"

Dinner flew past. She hardly remembered eating, but her plate was emptied when they took it away so she knew she must have. But despite the delicacy of the food and the sweetness of the wine, they were pale in comparison to her companion.

She liked the steady love he held for his distant family, so different from the peaks and valleys of her own experience. She liked his defense of the homeland he hadn't seen in a decade. She liked the quiet, orderly movement of his soldier's mind and the way he told a story as though laying siege to a castle, securing each corner of the tale and pressing in from all sides until it was taken completely. She liked the way he lost himself in memory, his eyes seeing things with a perfect clarity that traveled to her in his words as though by magic. She liked the way he smiled when he came back from that past, as though he saw her again for the first time, with that same perfect clarity.

And she even liked the way he included her in the story of himself. Even in the places where she'd had no part, which were most of them, he spoke of them as though she had been. As though she would be, the next time a part of his life happened that would be worth remembering. They were his only lies, but they were done for romance, so she didn't look too closely for the truth.

Varric stayed the entire time, but she forgot him as well as the wine was poured and emptied between them. Cullen's face grew flushed, and while his eyes never clouded over they were certainly less focused the longer they watched her. They'd started on her own eyes, but they wandered farther afield, moving to her cheeks, her hands, and her lips. He trailed off in the middle of a story of the Gallows as she dabbed her napkin across them, and she knew that he would not resume his story.

She knew she didn't want him to.

"Shall we go?" she asked quietly.

"Maker yes."

He stood so quickly that he rocked the table, and she laughed. He grinned as well and reached out to take her hand, wisely doing no more in the sight of the remaining diners. The head waiter bowed as they left, and Cassandra didn't bother to worry if they were skipping out on their bill. She didn't worry about the new reminder of the ache in her feet, or the full dark around them. All she wanted was to be alone with Cullen.

But once they were in the street he didn't pull her into a dark corner as she hoped. Instead he took her hand gently and tugged her down the street toward the harbor. She followed his lead reluctantly, falling into somewhat hobbled step beside him. He looked down at her feet and grinned again. "I wondered why you owned such impractical shoes. Leliana explains everything."

"They're absolutely silly."

"Hmm, I don't know. I like that they let me look you in the eye."

She smiled to herself. "I like that, too."

His hand tightened on hers. "I spent so much time talking about myself, I never asked about you. I'm terribly sorry. What should I know about Cassandra Pentaghast?"

"You know all of the things that are worth knowing, and some that are not," she said. "Besides, my charge was to learn about you and pronounce my judgment."

"Which is?"

Cassandra stopped and pushed him against a nearby wall. "They are all fools. Any woman who would think you boring has no sense of value or interest and would be better served with an idiot like Varric as a lover," she said fiercely. She kissed him, aware that the wine that she still tasted on her tongue was driving this display and not caring in the least. She dropped her hands to skate along the muscle of his stomach, still so vivid in her mind.

He didn't seem to mind.

"Good evening, Knight-Commander," said a chorus behind them, and she turned around to see a passing city guard patrol give a wave. "Nice night for it!"

She stepped back, flushing, and he rubbed a hand through his hair and grinned like a pirate. "Your room?"

"Just get me there, Knight-Commander."

There was still the very long boat ride back, and she didn't have the patience to watch him this time.

He must have felt the same, for as soon as they were out of the sight of the docks his shirt was off once more and he motioned to her. "Come here," he said.

She was already moving before he finished the words, but to her surprise he turned her around and settled her against him. The heat coming off of his chest was extraordinary against her back, and it made the rest of her feel frozen by comparison. He gently took her hands and guided them to the oars. "You need to learn to be a sailor."

"I don't see why," she said indignantly, but she didn't stop him.

Then he leaned forward with her and pulled back on the oars, and she saw very well why. She flowed with him like the water underneath, adding her own strength to the rowing motion until they were almost one person. She relaxed and let the breathing center her. Despite the rising of one tension, the rest of them fell away, and she could see why Cullen enjoyed the activity so much.

She was on the verge of telling him so when his hands dropped away from the oars and circled her waist. She gasped, and he chuckled into her ear. "Keep rowing," he said, his voice rough and breathless. "You're a natural."

Cassandra sighed as he trailed his lips down her neck as they moved. "You just want to get out of the work," she said.

"No," he said. "I just wanted my hands on you." He proved his point by sliding one hand down to her thigh and squeezing. "Though you're welcome to take your shirt off as well."

She should stop this madness and take back control. Ridiculous to let him kiss her this way, touch her where she couldn't repay the torment. Foolish to revel in the way the roughness of his jaw felt on her skin and the hard body pressed against her. Absolute lunacy to wish he would be a little less gentlemanly and work his hands up beneath her tunic to knead her overheating flesh in his hands. Worst of all, she couldn't tell him any of it. She could barely speak for the effort of moving the boat, and she certainly couldn't touch him in any meaningful way.

She didn't stop rowing.

After awhile he spoke again. "So you're sure you're still interested in me? Even after that horrible date?"

"Yes," she said. "Not horrible."

"Good." He stopped his explorations of her skin and touched a hand again. "Starboard." He touched the other one. "Port."

"Left. Right."

"No. The other way around," he said. His hands gripped the oars once more. "Move back to your place."

"No." She wiggled against him.

He laughed, but there was a hint of a growl in it. "We're almost back. My Templars don't deserve the show," he said. "Plus, you'll be sore tomorrow if you don't stop."

She bit back a reply and did as he requested. "Show me starboard," he said. She pointed her left hand, and he shook his head. "Other side."

Cassandra stared at the side of the boat in confusion, then comprehension dawned. "It's the side of the boat, not the person," she said.

"Exactly," said Cullen, smiling. "Intelligent as well as beautiful. And able to tolerate me. How did I get so lucky?"

Without warning they were nearly at the Gallows, and it was blessedly deserted. There she was the one pulling him out, steadying the boat, getting them up the darkened stairs into the halls of the garrison. When they reached the wing with her room, she kicked off the offending shoes at Leliana's door. The Nightingale was already peering out with a wicked grin, and she opened the door wider to let the shoes sail through.

Cullen slashed a look at the bard, and to Cassandra's surprise she actually shut the door. Then that distraction was over, and Cassandra leaned against her own door. Cullen was still shirtless, and it was hard effort to look him in the face. "So. Would you like to come in?"