Chapter Text
With his arm around Cassandra’s waist, Wil stared out at the horizon. A peaceful silence settled as the sun rose, unobstructed in the healed sky. His shoulders ached and the cut on his hip probably needed attention, but nothing could persuade him to leave his quarters
Most of all, he needed rest, and judging by Cassandra’s heavy eyelids, she needed it as well. The workload hadn’t slowed after defeating Corypheus, and neither of them had gotten much sleep. Much as Wil wanted to celebrate with the rest of the Inquisition, he felt himself nod off a couple times before he decided to return to his room.
He pressed a kiss to Cassandra’s temple and drew her back inside, but they had only taken a couple of steps when a trumpet called out from the party below. Pounding drums soon joined the melody; it was an old Free Marcher drinking song his father had sung before. Thankfully, no drunken singing made it up to the balcony.
“So much for sleeping,” said Wil with a laugh.
Cassandra growled, eyes narrow but much more alert than before. “I will break that horn in half.” She started for the door, but he grabbed her hand.
“Let them celebrate. When’s the next time we’ll defeat a would-be god?”
Her frown faded as she looked at him, and she heaved a sigh. “Maker forbid we should have to do it again.” She drew close to him once more, her body stiff but warm at his side. As they listened to the music, the tension began to slip from her shoulders, and she leaned against him.
“This almost reminds me of the Winter Palace, only without that itchy red jacket,” said Wil, wrapping his arms around her. But the balcony also drudged up memories of pining after Cassandra, wondering if it was time to give up on his failed attempts at flirtation. “And, while I admire Josephine and treasure her friendship, I think we both knew she wasn’t the one I was hoping to see on that balcony. I should have sought you out.”
Cassandra let out another sigh. “It seems like ages ago. I wanted to go to you, but I was afraid.” With a grunt, she added, “I was a fool.”
He looked down at her and smiled, running the back of his hand down the side of her face, over her scars. “You, my love, are many things, but you are no fool. Stubborn, perhaps.” It was one of the qualities he most admired in her.
“I can live with that.” She laughed, like lyrics to the music that floated up to his quarters, and her smile pulled at his heart. “It doesn’t matter. We are here now.”
“Here we are,” he echoed. Her eyes fluttered shut and she rested her head on his shoulder. The song changed—a slower, softer song that Wil didn’t recognize. His head sagged as he listened, bobbing not with the music but with drowsiness. Cassandra started to hum, and he thought she might be drifting off as well until she looked up at him.
“I have always loved this song.” Her voice was dreamy, but she held his gaze, and he understood.
“Would you like to dance?” It seemed a fitting way to celebrate, and if she accepted, he would resist sleep as long as it took.
A breath of a laugh escaped her lips. “Are you sure you can stand?”
“So long as you’re holding me.”
She beamed up at him, radiant with love. “All right. Just for a little while.”
He took her hand, shifting to hold her like Josephine had shown him months ago.
Even though their best efforts soon became more of a lazy sway, Wil had never enjoyed a dance so much. Dancing so close at the Winter Palace would have caused a scandal, especially given where Cassandra chose to put her hands, but he wasn’t about to object. His lips brushed her jaw, affectionate but not urgent—he was just too tired.
When Cassandra mumbled something about a Wedge of Destiny, he tugged at her arm, half-dreaming himself.
“Let’s go to sleep.”
Cassandra’s hair tickled his neck as she nodded. “Thank you for the dance.”
They couldn’t even manage to turn down the sheets, let alone change clothing. It was all Wil could do to help her out of her boots before she collapsed at his side. He never slept on his back, but it would do for tonight. Eyes closed, he caught the side of Cassandra’s mouth for a soft kiss goodnight. She nudged his head, guiding his lips to hers for another before burying her face in his neck.
Sunlight poured through the open balcony and the musicians played on, but Wil and Cassandra were blissfully unaware.