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The realization that she has feelings for Cole hits her like a sack of stones.
It happens when they're away from Skyhold. Some rifts were reported in a nearby area, simple enough. She picked who would journey with her- Cassandra, Dorian, and Varric- and that was that. They'd only be gone for a week, give or take, so she hadn't thought anything of it.
It's when she's trying to fall asleep that the thought crosses her mind. That she misses him. She misses his voice and his comments on the surroundings and the way he smiles ever so slightly when they help someone. She's wrapped up tight in her blankets, shivering with cold when she remembers his warmth and his calming hands in her hair, and she aches for him to be there. The feeling is like a bucket of icy water dumped on her and she practically flings herself out of her bedding.
She doesn't sleep much and everyone can tell. Her arrows fly off target, fatal shots float just off mark and it's more challenging than usual to take down their enemies. She spaces out on their treks, misses obvious landmarks and gets them lost more than once. If it weren't for the mark, she might have missed the rifts entirely.
The others notice, but don't bring it up.
When their objective is finished and they're on the journey back to Skyhold, she's even worse. She frets over the realization, over seeing Cole again if everything will be different. She worries that he'll hear her thoughts about him, although he probably will one way or another. She worries that the feelings won't be returned. The thought hurts more than she ever imagined it would, but it was likely what the outcome would be.
The first thing she does on the return to Skyhold is make a dash for her quarters. She doesn't want to see anyone, dodging past some dignitaries in the main hall that try to wave her into conversation. She can't bring herself to care about them or what they have to say at the moment.
In her room she hastily removes her armor, letting it lay on the stone floor wherever it lands. She changes into her casual clothes and flops face first onto her bed.
It's not surprising when moments later there's a knock on the door followed by footsteps up the stone stairs. The Inquisitor already knows who it is from the sound of their shoes and the pattern of their steps. It's Josephine, checking up on her. The dignitaries weren't very happy about being brushed off without a word, but the ambassador assures she smoothed things over.
"Is everything alright, Inquisitor?"
The Inquisitor groans and rolls over onto her back. "Nothing's wrong!" She drags her hands down her face, smooshes her cheeks together so her mouth is puckered and voice comes out strange. "Just a lot on my mind."
Thankfully, Josephine doesn't press any further and lets her be with a reminder of some tasks that need looked over later.
She leaves her room after an hour or so of useless pacing. There are things that need to be done and they would at least get her mind off of her troubling thoughts. Plus none require going near the tavern or the infirmary where Cole frequents.
The longer she avoids him, the better.
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"Varric," Cole has that worrying tone in his voice, the one that usually proceeds a question.
"Yeah, kid?" They're sitting at one of the tables in the main hall. Varric's showing Cole how to shuffle, deal cards and the finer points of Wicked Grace.
"Why is the Inquisitor avoiding me?"
Varric accidentally flicks the card he was dealing halfway across the table. "She's avoiding you?"
"Yes." Cole's hands fidget and worry the corner of his cards. "She used to come speak with me every day, but she doesn't anymore." He frowns. To Varric, he looks like the personification of a kicked puppy. "Have I done something wrong?"
Varric sighs. "I don't know, kid. She's been acting strange since we went to take care of those rifts. You could always ask her. If there's anyone she'd talk about it with, it'd be you."
"But she doesn't want to see me." He places his cards down and flattens his palms against the wooden table top. "Just avoid him, don't let him see me, don't let him hear my thoughts. I'm trying not to hear, but her hurts are loud now. She doesn't want me to hear them, but I can't help it." He brings his feet up into his chair and hugs his legs to him. "How do I help if she doesn't want me to?"
Varric leans against the table, strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Sometimes you just need to give them space."
Cole is quiet for a moment, face pressed to his knees, head down. "It hurts. Her avoiding me hurts. Why does it hurt, Varric?"
Varric feels his heart clench at how broken the kid's voice sounds. All at once he understands. "Shit," he mutters under his breath and stares at the forgotten cards spread out in front of them. After a moment of deliberating with himself, he sighs. "I'll talk to her, maybe figure out what's going on, okay?" It wasn't exactly on his lists of 'Things he wanted to do in life', helping a spirit boy with his crush, but he couldn't just sit by and not help.
Cole looks up at Varric, his hair ruffled and revealing his large watery, blue eyes. It's the final nail in Varric's coffin. "Thank you."
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Varric intercepts her as she's trying to slip past the nobles unnoticed in the main hall.
"A word, Your Inquisitorialness?"
She looks at him wide-eyed and worried because Varric never initiates something unless it was serious or involved alcohol or both, but nods anyway. He leads her through the door to the side and into the area Solas used to spend his time. It's not the ideal place for a discussion, but he'd rather not deal with the potential rumors if he drags her to her quarters.
"So, why have you avoided Cole?"
She blinks and then laughs, forced and nervous. The same laugh that she uses when she tries to convince people she's not bluffing during Wicked Grace. "What are you talking about?" She glances away to the door back to the main hall. The thought of nobles bugging her is more appealing than ever.
"He told me and pulled the thoughts from your head."
It suddenly feels a lot warmer in the room. "O-oh? Is that ... all he heard?"
Varric shakes his head, nearly rolling his eyes. "He knows you don't want him to listen so he tries not to." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look. He's upset that you're avoiding him." Her expression softens. "We all know how you feel about him."
She laughs again, too loud, and rubs the back of her neck. "I don't know what you're talking about!"
A voice from above, "Denial." They look up to see Dorian leaning over the wood railing of the library above. "I'll be right down." He pushes off the railing and disappears. His lazy swagger is belied by the frantic footsteps down the stairs before he appears. "We are talking about our dear Inquisitor's crush on Cole, right?"
Her mouth falls open. "I don't-!"
"Oh, but you do." Dorian smirks. "It's rather obvious."
"Sparkler," Varric warns.
"Alright, alright. I'm all ears." He holds up his hands in defense.
"I'm no expert on spirits or feelings for that matter, but I think he feels the same about you." Varric can see the blush spreading rapidly over the Inquisitor's face. "Just stop avoiding him, he's hurt enough." The Inquisitor chews at her lip, not quite looking at him. "That's all I had to say." He gestures to Dorian as if permitting him to speak again.
"This is an interesting development, the Inquisitor and the ghost boy. I've read about stranger pairs in fiction, to say the least." He pulls at his mustache and twirls the tip around his finger. "This would make a good premise for a new romance series, wouldn't you say, Varric?"
"I don't need another failed romance serial, Sparkler. You've apparently read one of my romances. Do you really need one based off those two?"
Dorian visibly cringes. "I see your point."
"If you write a book about me and Cole, I'll shave your chest hair in your sleep, dwarf!" The Inquisitor's shout sends the messenger birds in the rookery above into a stir. Some of the researchers and Leliana's people on the upper floors peek over the railing to see the cause of the commotion.
Varric smirks, "Wouldn't dream of it, your worship."
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It takes her a while to swallow her nervousness and guilt. With Varric and Dorian at her back pressuring her, she's eventually pushed to the Herald's Rest, quite literally.
She stands at the foot of the stairs, looks up to the second floor with dread settling like a stone in her stomach. Varric and Dorian are behind her blocking any means of escape. She swears she had more confidence facing down Corypheus when they battled. With the slightest nudge from Dorian, she starts up the stairs.
Her feet feel heavy like she was wading through the bogs again, thick mud trying to suck her feet in place.
It seems like an eternity climbing up the second flight of stairs. Cole's in the corner, perched atop one of the boxes, letting his legs swing and heels tap against the wood. All the dread accumulates and her heart jumps into her throat. She hasn't seen him in a while and seeing him now makes her realize how much she missed him.
He tilts his head towards her as she steps closer. "You... aren't avoiding me anymore?" His voice is soft and tentative as if afraid she'll run away.
"I'm sorry. I was just confused and..." she bites her lip and clenches her hands into fists to try to stop their shaking. "Scared." She watches him slide off the box and step closer to her. His head is ducked down and hands folded together. "It was silly of me to avoid you and unfair, I was just afraid that you'd hear my thoughts."
"Why?"
"Because they're... about you."
He peeks up at her from underneath his hat. Her face is darkened red, he can see despite the dim lighting, and she's not look at him.
"You see... I realized while I was away that... I have. Feelings. For you." Her eyes dart from him to the wall to the floor and back again.
"You want to hold my hand." He wrings his hands together. "You think it would be nice to kiss me."
She scratches the back of her neck, feels a drop of sweat run down as she huffs nervously. "Yes. I suppose." She offers a weak smile.
Cole is silent for a heavy moment and then laughs softly. "I was afraid and hurt, but now I feel light." He steps closer to her. "I think I'd like those things." He stops in front of her and lets his hands fall to his sides. He stands stiff and each movement seems to be carefully thought over.
Her hand reaches out to his, lets her fingers wrap around his and tug his hand forward. Her grip is slack, giving him room pull away if he wants. "Does that-" she swallows, feels his hand close around hers. "-that mean you feel the same?"
He squeezes her hand, feels the warmth of her, the brightness, the kindness, her. The hurt and worry he felt is washed away by the overflowing feeling of good in his chest. "Yes."
She smiles.
He glances down at the floor, shuffles his feet. It's like when they danced, but a lot more intimate and his face feelings warm. "I may not be good at this..."
"That's okay. Just tell me if you're uncomfortable with anything, okay? Or overwhelmed. Or if anything isn't okay with you. Just. Tell me, okay?" He meets her eyes and nods. "It's important to me that you're comfortable."
"This is comfortable," he says with a small smile. "I might not be comfortable with some things right away, but I am comfortable with this."
She brushes her thumb over the back of his bony hand and smiles up at him. "That's a good place start."