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Cassandra Pentaghast has read The Tale of the Champion ten times already. All of it for research purposes, of course. They were looking for clues on the warrior’s whereabouts and found none. She interrogated the author, Varric Tethras, on several occasions with no more luck. The dwarf lied, however, and Hawke is now standing in Skyhold’s courtyard, engaged in an animated conversation with Commander Cullen. The Champion of Kirkwall has been found, so why is Cassandra reading that stupid book again? It is a captivating work, she can’t deny that, with action, adventure, mystery, and tragedy. Yet, it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi that would make it perfect. Romance, perhaps. The Champion is a charming person, maybe the absence of it is a personal choice. At any rate, it isn’t her place to judge. People are more than their romantic attachments, and Hawke is no exception.
“I could sign it for you if you’d like.”
Cassandra jumps at the interruption, hiding the book behind her back. Standing over her shoulder is the six feet tall warrior, looking at her with a broad smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She looks away, her cheeks taking a pinkish color.
“You’ve been reading Varric’s book,” Hawke points out, extending a hand to take it from her. “Although I couldn’t help but notice the massive hole in the middle of it.”
Their fingers briefly touch, spreading shivers through her entire body. She finds herself at a loss for words, breathless, distracted by the Champion’s deep blue eyes. Ugh! She is Cassandra Pentaghast, Seeker of the Chantry, she does not swoon!
“Would you agree to go on a date with me, Seeker?”
Her eyes grow wide at the sudden suggestion. “Excuse me?”
“I think you and I should go on a date.”
“And why should we date?” she asks, confused as to why the mighty Champion of Kirkwall would think something like this.
“Because we are attracted to each other.”
Ugh! Hawke is impressive, even she has to admit it. The two of them sparred in the training yard once and she found it very enjoyable, but she wouldn’t call it ’attraction’. “I’m attracted to pie, but I don’t feel the need to date pie.”
The Champion’s smile never fades. “Alright, then.”
Hawke leaves without insisting and Cassandra thinks that’s the end of it. She turns the pages of her book until she finds her favorite part: the fight against the Arishok, a masterpiece in both literature and one-on-one combat.
Hawke shows up the next morning while she is training in the yard, holding something that looks like a bundle of cloth. There’s a sweet aroma rising from it. The Champion unwraps the piece of cloth to reveal a small apple pie fresh off the oven.
She frowns. “What is that?”
“Apple pie! My mother’s recipe,” Hawke declares.
“I can see that. But why did you bring me a pie?”
“Yesterday, you said you liked pie.”
“That’s not what I-” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “I said I didn’t want to go on a date with you.”
“Oh.” Hawke pouts, almost looking like a gigantic child. “But it would be a shame to waste such a good pie.”
She takes a moment to consider it. Hawke is a friendly person, a competent warrior, with a good heart and a strong moral sense. There are worse people in the world to share a pie with, and the Champion’s feelings don’t seem ungenuine. “Ugh! Fine!” she gives in. “But only because I do love pie.”