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Cassandra sat in the small nook she had discovered just at the outskirts of the courtyard, taking a bite of her morning pastry as she continued to read the latest chapter of Varric's romance serial, Swords & Shields. She was thankful no one had found the small alcove. As much as she enjoyed Varric's serial, she'd rather no one discover that she was reading it. Except the Warden, who somehow had already learned her secret. How had he done it, she wondered?
As Cassandra finished the pastry, the only other guilty pleasure in which she dared indulge, she closed the book and thrust it into her pack. She slung it over her shoulder and got to her feet, moving toward the training yard and the morning's exercise. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed a figure in the distance. Normally the Inquisition's soldiers avoided that part of the training yard. Avoided her, to be more precise. As she drew closer, she realized why her space had suddenly been invaded, and more importantly by whom.
Alistair Theirin stole a quick glance at her before setting down his sword and shield, leaning them against one of the training dummies. He was wearing breeches, boots, and a pair of leather gloves. And nothing else. It took Cassandra a moment to realize she had stopped walking. There was something familiar about all of this...
It was unseasonably warm for the Frostbacks, and with the sun beating down Cassandra could see the beads of sweat trailing down the well defined muscles of his arms and chest. With a lopsided grin, Alistair reached down to pick up a bucket, holding it in front of him for a moment as he watched her.
"The Knight-Captain and the guardsman..." Cassandra whispered to herself. It was a scene from Swords & Shields! For the briefest of moments, she allowed herself a smile. Then she vowed to end him.
Undoubtedly Alistair had expected the enactment to go off without a hitch. The reality of it was far less than ideal. With a suave smile, he tipped the bucket's contents toward himself. The immediate regret was nearly palpable. Despite the warmth of the sun, the Warden had clearly underestimated how cold the mountain water would be as it splashed onto his chest. Cassandra had to hold back a satisfied smile at the string of expletives that carried through the courtyard. Even Cullen poked his head out of his office, distant as it was.
"Andraste's bloody marvelous tits, that's cold!" Alistair finally shouted through chattering teeth. This time, Cassandra allowed the smile as Alistair hurried to wrap himself haphazardly in his shirt, not bothering to put it on properly.
"I see you somehow acquired my copy of Swords & Shields," Cassandra mentioned. Try as she might to seem angry, she couldn't muster a believable scowl.
"You have interesting taste," Alistair returned with a nervous laugh and a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"Interesting?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought that the scene with-" She stopped mid sentence. "I can not believe I'm actually discussing this with you."
"Hey now, I'll have you know that I grew up in Redcliffe Castle," Alistair informed her, his face falling into a slight pout. "I can discuss literature."
"What makes you think I wish to discuss literature of this nature with a Grey Warden," she asked, crossing her arms. "Especially you."
"You wound me, Madame," he replied, feigning offense. Cassandra rolled her eyes. "I quite prefer the scene when the Knight-Commander first meets the guardsman."
Cassandra stared at him for a moment, considering whether or not to encourage him. "And why is that?" she finally asked.
"I think it's absolutely adorable how she pretends to detest the poor man," Alistair explained, the goofy smile returning to his face.
"I... suppose," Cassandra admitted, shifting uncomfortably.
"How long did it take him to grow on her?" Alistair asked, continuing to grin at her. "Two chapters, was it?"
"That seems correct," she replied. She could feel her face growing warm as the Warden unwrapped himself and took a moment to properly put on the tunic he'd been using as a shawl. She wasn't blind or stupid. She could see exactly what he was doing, and considering his templar background, she was sure he was doing it for sport. Then again...
"You know, I haven't read past this one," Alistair added, interrupting her thoughts. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend it to me."
"You assume I am in possession of it." Alistair laughed, but made no other response. "Fine, you may borrow it on one condition."
"Anything the lady desires," he promised.
"No more reenactments." Cassandra gave him her best no-nonsense look, although part of her wondered if it was half as serious as she intended it to be.
"Warden's honor," Alistair told her, echoing his promise from the previous day.
"I'm starting to wonder if you Wardens actually have any honor." Alistair swooned dramatically at the insult, earning yet another roll of the eyes from the Seeker.
"All the rain in Crestwood may have washed it out of me," he admitted sarcastically. "But fine, no more reenactments from Varric's serials. I promise."
"Good," she replied, smiling slightly. "Now get out of my training yard."