"Absolutely not," Varric insisted. He looked like he wanted to laugh, although if he did, Sera wasn't sure whether it would be in disbelief or terror. She was currently draped across Herah's plush bed with her head hanging backwards over the edge, but even upside down, the dwarf's reluctance was unmistakable. "The Seeker and I just got back on reasonable terms, and you want me to get on her bad side again? I want at least a couple weeks of peace without her glaring holes in my head."

"But she likes you, Varric," Herah insisted, using her most cajoling tone. She was seated on the edge of the bed as well, but in a proper, upright position. "That's why I asked you to come up and talk to us. You're one of her closest friends! Don't you want her to be happy?"

Varric folded his arms over his chest, still not convinced. "Yes, but not as much as me and I'll be happiest if she isn't trying to punch me in the face."

Sera hid her snigger behind her hand. She already knew how this was going to play out, but watching her lover and Varric argue was sure to be entertaining. Almost as entertaining as convincing Cassandra and Morrigan that they would be better off annoying each other than everyone else at Skyhold. Although she had been doubtful at first, Herah had turned her opinion around, and now she was delighted at the prospect. Besides, it was a perfect opportunity for mischief. "Don't worry about Cassandra, yeah? If all goes right, she'll be rubbing her bits on Morrigan's face instead of punching yours."

Herah's dark grey cheeks took on a purple tinge, and even Varric's usually unshakable sarcasm wavered with a hint of embarrassment. "I'm still not sure I believe all this. The Seeker and the Witch, succumbing to their hidden, smouldering passion in an abandoned ruin full of demons trying to kill them. Even I wouldn't write that. It stretches reader credulity too far."

"You have to admit, it would make a great story," Herah said. "Two opposites, resistant at first, but coming together in the end to experience true love…"

Varric snorted. "I'm not so sure about true love, Inquisitor. If I had to bet, I'd put my coin on them killing each other within a week."

"You'd give 'em that long?" Sera asked. She flipped over onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands and letting her heels wave back and forth through the air. "Woof. I don't think they'd last a day. They barely made it home from Terrifying Demon Castle without tearing each other to itty bitty pieces."

Herah shot her a sideways look that indicated she wasn't helping. "I think Sera is trying to say that they could use some help. Alone, they might not be able to deal with this, but if we could find a way to help them talk to each other..."

"Even for you, that's unusually optimistic," Varric said. He turned to look at her, and Sera cocked her head, smushing her cheek further into her fist. "But, just for the sake of curiosity, what did you have in mind, Buttercup?"

"Hey," Herah said, sounding slightly put out. "Don't you want to hear my plan?"

"No, because it's not going to work. No offense, Inquisitor, but you're way too earnest for this kind of work. Getting the Witch and the Seeker together is going to require a lot more guile than you've got in you."

Sera grinned. "He's got a point, Inky. You're dead easy to read. I think this is more my type of deal."

"Fair enough," Herah admitted with a sigh. "Go ahead then. What's your brilliant plan?"

Sera scrunched up her face. She had been so eager to be put in charge that she hadn't worked out the details of what she'd do if she actually was. Still, she'd been asked for an idea, and after a brief scratch of her head, she had one. "Okay, so talking doesn't work, 'cause they're too angry to have a right conversation. So what we do is, we find out when Morrigan's taking a bath, and I sneak in and swipe her clothes. Meanwhile, Inky, you tell Cassandra that there's, like, there's a new sword in there or some shite and then duck on in. After that, it's just them, and no clothes, and bam. Spark fly."

Herah sighed. "I'm not sure that's entirely ethical, but regardless, all it might do is lead to the two of them having sex. They've already done that and it didn't solve anything. The problem isn't that they won't sleep together, it's that they feel guilty about it afterwards."

Sera frowned. She didn't generally have much guilt about shagging, which left her unsure how to get rid of it. "Hm, yeah. Might be right, Inky. What about you?" she asked Varric. "You gotta have a good caper in you, what with all those tales you like writing."

"Oh, no." The dwarf shook his head. "I let other people plan this sort of thing. I just go along for the ride. Cuts down on the blame afterwards." He paused for dramatic effect before adding, "Of course, that doesn't mean I can't think of somebody else who specializes in devious schemes."

"What we are really dealing with here are two distinct problems," Leliana began. Unlike Varric, their spymaster had been positively enthused about helping Morrigan and Cassandra get together. The idea had even brought a rare smile to her lips, though Herah wasn't sure if that was more due to the prospect of her friends' future happiness or their discomfort.

"The first is that Cassandra feels guilt over being attracted to someone she finds both irritating and reprehensible. Morrigan, on the other hand, isn't bothered by her physical responses, but doesn't want admit she's having an emotional one. We will have to overcome both of these obstacles in order to make our mission a success."

"Oh, is that all?" Herah laughed, but Varric seemed to be undaunted.

"Well, irritating isn't necessarily a problem. Hawke and the Rivani used to bicker all the time, but they still managed to make it work, at least after Isabela…" He paused, turning to Leliana. "So, just how evil is Morrigan?"

Leliana laughed before answering. Herah was glad to hear the sound; the spymaster was far too grim most of the time. "Oh, she can be cold at times, but she is not truly as bad as all that. I recall one time on the road to Denerim when she took a serious wound saving Wynne from a pack of Darkspawn. Afterwards, of course, she denied that she'd done it on purpose, but we all knew better."

"So, she might be up for a heroic gesture," Varric offered. "In my experience, one big, selfless moment can win a lot of good will. Of course, finding a chance for Morrigan to save Cassandra's life might be easier said than done. The Seeker isn't exactly a distressed damsel."

"Right enough." Sera rolled up off of the bed, where she'd been fiddling with a carved trinket brought back from one of their expeditions to Orlais. "But lots of people need saving. Maybe we get Miss Spooky to save one of them and make her look better to Cassandra, yeah?"

Herah put her arm around Sera's shoulder, giving it a pat. "Could be. I guess we can keep an eye out for an opportunity. But what about Morrigan? How are we going to get her to admit she's a person with, you know, actual feelings?"

"It is my experience," Leliana offered, "that people only change when they feel they have no choice. Morrigan has been this way for a very long time." She laughed softly. "If you met her mother, I think you would understand why."

"So, how do we get past that?" Herah asked her co-conspirators. This operation was proving to be much trickier than she'd hoped. "Getting Morrigan to open up emotionally doesn't seem like the kind of thing we can just prank our way into." Her question earned her a collective shrug, and she sighed. "Well, we've got some time to think about it at least. I just got word from Cullen that we're ready to move out to the Arbor Wilds. We'll be leaving tonight, and for this battle, we're going to need everyone on board, including Morrigan. With any luck, we get a little heroism along the way and at least some of our problems will be solved."

Morrigan glowered as she leaned against the twisted trunk of a tree, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. While she would admit that Cassandra's bulky armor had proven itself useful on a few rare occasions, it was not built for traveling through the forest. The Seeker's lumbering and creaking could probably be heard for miles, and it had silenced all the birdsong from the canopy above. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the grip of her staff, brow furrowing deeper with each wasted moment.

After another painful minute, Cassandra, the Inquisitor, Sera, and Varric finally caught up with her. The Seeker brought up the rear, and Morrigan couldn't help but notice a trickle of sweat running along her hairline. "Wouldn't it have been wiser to wear something lighter and easier to remove, Seeker?" she asked, gliding away from her perch. Somewhat reluctantly, she re-joined the rest of the group, ignoring Cassandra's frown of annoyance. "The giant sword is bad enough, but your breastplate..."

"I'd like to see you stand in front of a bear in nothing but what you're wearing, witch," Cassandra grumbled. "I'm sure you would appreciate my breastplate then."

Nearby, Sera began to snigger while Varric and the Inquisitor averted their eyes. Morrigan saw the exact moment Cassandra realized how her comment had sounded. She choked, then tried to cover it with an all too obvious cough. A crimson flush spread across her face, and her nose wrinkled in embarrassment - or perhaps even disgust. "Let's keep moving," she grunted, waving everyone else on and stomping down the forest path. "I think the templar camp Scout Harding mentioned is only a little further ahead."

"At least try and walk more quietly," Morrigan said in a dry whisper. "Unless it is your wish that the every Red Templar in this forest hear you and converge on us at once."

Cassandra gave her a sour look. "And when they do, I'll be thankful for my armor."

"If they don't dent it, I surely will," she muttered. Without waiting for Cassandra to reply, she padded off down the forest path, refusing to wait for the others.

To her surprise, one other figure did keep pace. Sera, seemingly almost as intent on annoying her as Cassandra, skipped along beside her. "Breastplates, yeah?" she cackled, grinning ear to pointed ear. "Good one. Old grumpy tits over there looks like you tried to shove a whacking great sword up her arse."

"I take it you are still upset with the Seeker for her treatment of you a few days ago," Morrigan said. She did not particularly want to converse with Sera, but the glare burning into the back of her head convinced her to continue for a short while, at least. Cassandra obviously wasn't happy to see them talking even though Sera had not been the one to disclose her secret. And for reasons she couldn't understand, Morrigan was fond of making Cassandra's face twitch in annoyance. It brought her more pleasure than she was willing to admit.

"Wouldn't you be if she slammed you against the wall and... Oh, wait. She did. And you liked it."

Morrigan pressed her lips into a thin line. "Just because the Fade's magic tempted me to indulge in my baser instincts does not mean I have any fondness for the partner I chose. Although I suppose it could have been worse. The magic might have hit the two of us instead. That would have been truly horrible."

Sera gaped at her, looking torn between laughter and horror, and Morrigan decided to count it a victory. It wasn't often that anyone was able to shut the annoying elf's mouth for more than a few seconds. Only the Inquisitor seemed to manage it, and that was just because she had the advantage of kissing. The sappy looks the two had been exchanging on the journey left Morrigan on edge, reminding her uncomfortably of the time she had spent in Leliana and the Warden's company many years ago.

The two of them had been nauseatingly sweet together, and the only thing more tiresome than watching the pair moon over each other was the perennially grim mood that her lover's absence had evidently produced in Leliana. Morrigan could only hope that if anything happened to Sera, the Inquisitor wouldn't become so insufferable. For the elf, of course, it was already far too late; her company was already unbearable.

And what if it was Cassandra who died instead? Morrigan had japed about her breastplate being dented, but how would she feel if the Red Templars who awaited them were really to harm the Seeker? The idea produced an uncomfortable churn in her gut, one far less enjoyable than the pleasure she got from needling the other woman. 'Tis just friendly concern. We do fight together, after all. It is no different from what I would feel if Leliana or Wynne had been killed. Truly, that is all it is.