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Her head hurt, yet it was resting on something comfortable. Her body hurt, yet something soft covered her unarmored body. Everything hurt, yet she felt warm.
When she opened her eyes, her gaze was met with a patch of deep dark sky filled with stars in the middle of what seemed to be a forest and to her left, the crackling of the campfire caught her attention. She realized she was laying on the ground and quickly removed the soft blanket that covered her. However, as soon as she did, overwhelming chill ran through her body. As the goosebumps shook her, a sudden pain that hit her abdomen made the memories of what had happened flood back.
“Cassandra!” a voice near her suddenly exclaimed, and quickly there was the figure of Cassian Trevelyan, the Inquisitor, hovering over her, concern barely disguised on his face.
“Maker, it’s cold,” she said out loud, mostly to herself rather than to him. She then looked around, as Cassian covered her with blanket. “We’re in the Emerald Graves. We were fighting the Greater Mistral in the area.”
“Well I can see your memory is intact,” Cassian said, with a teasing tone Cassandra was all too familiar with. “How are you feeling?”
He sat down next to her body, and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. At the subtle action, Cassandra quickly scanned their surroundings, almost in instinct, looking for any unwanted witness.
Cassian seemed to caught on her small panic, and chuckled at her behavior.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a calming tone. “Bull and Sera are on patrol if that’s what you’re wondering, we are alone.”
With a sigh of relief, she again laid back her head into the bundle of cloth that worked as a pillow. His concern was touching, albeit unnecessary.
They had been… together for no more than a week, that night in the grove still fresh in her memory. They weren’t ashamed of their relationship. Yet they had decided to keep… secret, as one may say. They wanted the small moments, they lonely moments, for themselves and themselves alone.
The secrecy was somewhat fun as well, they wouldn’t deny it.
“I’m fine,” she said, despite the barely numb pain she felt and did not missed Cassian’s questioning raised eyebrow. She then took notice of her rare lack of body protection. “Why am I out of my armor?”
“What do you mean why?” Cassian asked, astounded that she even asked, worry even more evident in his voice. “Cass, you took a dragon’s ice blast almost at point-blank. Your armor was a frozen mess!”
She remembered more clearly now. Cassian had gotten his foot stuck on a tree’s root that none of the group had noticed just as the dragon took flight, and before anyone could do something, she was already on the air, spitting ice through her mouth to any enemy she could perceive. Cassandra jumped in front of him, covering the Inquisitor with the entirety of her body.
“It was nothing, Cassian,” she said, rolling her eyes and dismissing his concern, pushing down the pain as she attempted to sit. “What– ugh! What happened after I was knocked out? With the dragon.”
“Really? That’s your concern right now?” the Inquisitor questioned her. Yet her stubborn glance pushed through his distress. With a scoff, he gave her answer, albeit reluctantly. “Alright. She lives still.”
“Still?”
“After you… fell,” he began to say, looking away at the mention of the reason behind her current state. “Bull pulled me out of the root as Sera played bait and then we made a run for it, since we had run out of potions. With no campsite nearby, we had to make due with this.”
At that, he motioned his hand towards the fireplace and Cassandra realized this was not in fact any of the camps the had made.
“Where exactly are we?” she asked as Cassian helped her sit up.
“Somewhere east of where we fought the dragon,” he said. “We didn’t exactly check the map when we were running away from her. Although I do recognize the cliff, it’s where we released those ashes belonging to a widow’s husband.”
Cassandra remembered. A frail widow had gone as far as she could to accomplish her late husband’s wishes of having his ashes scattered. She remembered how despite being such a menial task, Cassian had insisted they see it through.
Shaking those thoughts away, she tried to stand up, once again grimacing in pain from the sharp pain originating in her abdomen.
“Cass!” the Inquisitor scolded her, quickly grabbing her and laying her down gently back to the floor, provoking a scoff from the Seeker. “What are you doing?!”
“I’m standing up, if that wasn’t obvious.”
“You’re still recovering, you can’t just stand up like it’s nothing!”
What’s going on with him? she thought. She had been wounded before, not as bad as this, but still. She was tough, resilient. And worst of all? They were in the open, without the protection a campsite would bring.
"Stop fussing over me, we need to head back to Skyhold or at least to the nearest campsite,” she said and once again tried to stand up. “We are too exposed. Any Freemen, Venatori or red templar patrol could spot us.”
“Cassandra… we are fine. I told you, Sera and Bull are making rounds. They should be back at any second.”
Ignoring him, Cassandra once again removed the blanket and her body once again winced in pain. She could barely held back a scream.
“What the-” she managed to say before Cassian pulled the blanket back on.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he said, accommodating it around her body. “You’re froze, Cassandra. We had to carry you here. Thankfully you didn’t break anything. Or you won’t if you stop moving.”
Cassandra could see the guilt in his eyes. She had seen it before, after Adamant, after Warden Alistair had stayed behind. With a sigh, she relented.
“Thank you,” he said and stood up to walk towards the small pyre. She hadn’t notice it before, but plates of her armor were spread across the floor, in front of the fire.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I managed to salvage some of your armor,” he responded, checking on the plates one by one. “It’s not all lost. The cloth was lost though, sorry about that. I will make it up to you back at Skyhold. I’ll make you an armor myself.”
Cassandra rolled her eyes at the apology, albeit she made no effort in trying to hide the blush. If it was because of his gesture or because of the cold, she didn’t gave it much thought.
He loved making things for her and to be honest, Cassandra didn’t want him to stop.
She then saw him walk to the other side of the fire, and picked up what looked another sheet of cloth. Another blanket. He touched it slightly, and then picked it up. With it in hand, he walked back towards the Seeker.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“For you,” he said, as if it was obvious. “Albeit you don’t have any physical injuries, your body’s temperatures is low, even with the fire on. So I decided to warm up some blankets and replaced every now and then.
She nodded in understanding, and once again took the blanket off. Struggling and slightly shaking, she extended her arms
“What are you doing?” he said and knelt next to her.
“I’m gonna change the blanket,” she stated.
Cassian’s face was one of shock and bafflement.
“Cass, you can barely move without wincing in pain,” he said, and a hint of annoyance was not missed by the Seeker. “There is no way I’m letting you move more than necessary.”
“I can take care of myself, Cassian.”
“No,” he said and before she could refute his argument, he raised his finger at her. “And don’t force me to make it an order.”
“You wouldn’t dare. Now give me that blanke–”
“Cut it out, Seeker Pentaghast,” Cassian said, using the voice he usually brought out whenever dealing with dignitaries, diplomats and politicians. “And let me help you. That’s an order.”
Cassandra sighed in defeat and did her best to ignore Cassian’s smug victorious smile. As if he had beaten a dragon single-handedly. In a way he had.
“Where did you find all this cloths, anyway? We– ugh. We didn’t bring them with us,” she asked as she lifted herself with her elbows, Cassian both gently holding her and quickly changing the blanket than enveloped her.
“We found another abandoned camp nearby,” he said. “It was shred to pieces, probably by scavengers. There was a journal left, and it seemed that it belonged to some amateur dragon hunters.”
“Any relatives of mine?” she joked as Cassian slowly laid her back into the new blanket.
Cassian chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. They were Nevarran, though. Ingellvar or something like that.”
Cassandra hummed in acknowledgment, the name vaguely familiar to her.
For a while, they remained in silence, with Cassian periodically checking on her, the armor and the periphery of the makeshift camp. They grew comfortable into the silence, every now and then making small comments, yet nothing relevant enough to make conversation.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked after a while.
She obviously had caught him by surprise, as he almost the dropped her chestplate into the fire when she talked.
“Maker, you scared me,” he admitted with a chuckled as he went back to his earlier place and sat down. “What do you mean?”
“Why did you stayed? You know how the Iron Bull and Sera are.”
“They are capable people, Cass. They know how to take care of themselves in combat.”
“I know that, I’m not denying their skills. But you know how…”
“Unorthodox they are?” he finished for her.
“Immature is what I’m thinking of,” she corrected. “Especially when they are left alone. They… ”
“I trust them,” Cassian said, yet by the way he avoided looking at her, Cassandra could tell there was something else. After a few seconds, her mind clicked and she sighed.
“It’s not your fault, Cas.”
“What?”
“You were in a vulnerable position, I protected you,” Cassandra continued. “It is my duty. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it or to make up for it.”
For a while he said nothing at her, immersing himself in his thoughts. His blue eyes looking deep into the forest, at nothing in particular. His tanned face enlightened by the fire, highlighting the scars he had gained months ago when Conclave was destroyed and the Breach was opened.
Maker, he’s beautiful, she thought and was about to mentally chastise herself before she remembered she now allowed herself to think of him like that. After weeks of doubt, of hesitation, the person she had been waiting for had been there for months.
Yes, he was the Inquisitor. Yes, he was the Herald of Andraste. And yes, she was a Seeker and the Right Hand of the Divine. But here? In this private moment? In this forest in the middle of nowhere? Where he tended to her needs besides her obvious yet unfounded reluctance?
Here, they were just themselves. Here, they were lovers. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I don’t blame myself,” he said, pulling her out of her daydreams.
“Cassian…”
He stood up and walked into the front of the fire, his back towards her, the light making a silhouette out of his shape.
“I mean, yes! I do!” he exclaimed. “I should’ve seen the damn root!”
“Cassian…”
“But I didn’t stay because of that,” he continued. He turned around and began walking back, now standing in front of her.
“What?” Cassandra was confused. “Then why?”
“Are you kidding?” he asked back, as if the answer was obvious. “I did it for the same reason you saved my life.”
He was kneeling next to her now. His face full of the same devotion, the longing and worship he had shown her that night in the grove.
Cassandra scoffed.
“It is not your duty to– to coddle me of all things.”
Cassian chuckled, and leaned towards her, his body hovering over the Seeker’s. She may have let out a gasp, but she was focusing on other things right now.
“It may not be my duty as the Inquisitor nor as the Herald of Andraste, Lady Pentaghast,” he said, his hand now caressing her cheek, their breaths now mingling. “But it is my duty nonetheless as well…”
“As my what?”
“As your lover I guess,” he whispered. He then leaned forward, and Cassandra welcomed his approach, their lips joining in a shivering kiss. They quickly separated due to Cassandra’s freezing temperature.
“Maker, you’re a freezing,” he said and they both chuckled.
Neither said nothing, her eyes entranced by his.
“Cassian…” she said after a few moments.
“Cassandra…” he said. “I lov–”
“Hey, Boss!” the Iron Bull’s deep voice reverberated across the emptiness of the camp, shattering the moment, as he announced his and Sera’s return to camp. “We are back!”
“Coast is clear for the moment,” Sera said, as she walked behind Iron Bull while carrying a bunch of wood. “We found some firewood nearby. An abandoned camp of all things. Seems we weren’t the only donkeys-for-brains who tried to kill that shitty dragon.”
Cassian had quickly removed himself from over the Seeker, making a swift yet clumsy escape towards the campfire, hoping the light would hide his blush. Meanwhile, Cassandra now wished more than ever for a rift to open up and swallow her whole.
They both hoped no one had noticed their… intimacy.
“What’s up with you two?” Sera asked, a teasing smile in her face, as usual. “You two seem more tight up than a noble with a rat up his ass who wants no one to notice.”
“Sera!” Cassandra exclaimed.
“What? Not my fault you two look like it!”
“I don’t even wanna know how you know that.”
With Sera’s cackle, they sat around the fire, telling stories -of dragon hunting, of pranks go wrong, of boring galas and balls– and waited for Cassandra to get better.
And when they woke up in the morning, with Cassian and Cassandra cuddled up into each other, both Sera and Bull kept their mouths shut, and let them oversleep in a silent and one-way promise, making no comment as they made their ride back to a proper camp