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Cassandra felt trapped, a sensation she did not much enjoy. It felt likes weeks since she'd last ventured outside the walls of Skyhold and she chafed at the inactivity. She was frustrated and longed to back out in the field killing... something, anything.
She took her anger and frustration out on the training dummies instead. It was safer than allowing her temper free reign around her colleagues and comrades.
Even if she did want to bite everyone’s heads off at the slightest provocation. Varric had borne the brunt of her temper so far, and had started avoiding her like the plague, walking in the opposite direction whenever he encountered the Seeker.
Which only made her more angry and frustrated.
Cassandra could pinpoint exactly the beginning of her imprisonment. In the weeks following her confrontation with the Inquisitor on the battlements concerning her... affections, she'd noticed her presence was requested on expedition less and less. Eventually it had stopped being requested at all.
She'd hoped he had let Trevelyan down gently, hoping that the Inquisitor's attraction to her wouldn't affect their friendship. She thought she'd managed to head off any more serious feelings before they got out of hand. Apparently it had been too late for that.
It was no matter, Cassandra meant what she had said; the Inquisitor was her leader and she would do her duty, however the Herald of Andraste saw fit to have her carry it out.
If it was the Inquisitor's wishes that she spend less time out in the wilderness and more time at Skyhold then Cassandra would obey. There were plenty of things she could be doing around the keep anyway. Josephine at least seemed to have and endless list of tasks for the Seeker to do, so at least she wasn't idle.
But still, she chafed.
And she missed the Inquisitor. They'd been together since the beginning of all this (admittedly not always as friends) and Cassandra had gotten used to being by her side, the strong wall at the Inquisitor's back; her protector and defender.
Now she felt like an old weapon that had been put away in favour of something new; Cassandra felt discarded, forgotten and afraid of getting rusty. She worried she no longer had a use.
Most of all she feared she had lost the friendship she'd built with Lady Trevelyan. That thought caused her more grief and pain than anything else. She kept it to herself, as she did with most emotional matters, confiding her troubles in no one, not even Leliana.
But there was nothing Cassandra could do to breach the gulf that had grown between the two of them. The Inquisitor has asked of her something that she could no give. The Maker had made her the way she was for a reason; she could not change her nature on a whim,not even for so dear a friend as the Herald.
There was an ache in her chest that seemed to disagree.
Weeks passed without Seeker Pentaghast leaving the keep once. Her temper grew shorter with each passing day. Cassandra worried at the issue, trying to see a solution to the problem without forcing a drastic change in herself. If there was an answer then it eluded her, and all the while the ache grew deeper.
In an attempt to preserve the castle's doors, dummies and crockery, Cassandra took to challenging Bull's Chargers to sparring matches. She laid each and every one of them flat on their backs, save the Iron Bull himself who was often out on expedition with the Inquisitor.
It took every ounce of self-control Cassandra possessed not to resent him for taking what she saw as her place at Trevelyan's side.
It wasn't Bull's fault, this predicament she found herself in. Cassandra knew that. The fault lay with her, and her alone. She was the one who wasn't able to return the affections of her Inquisitor because... what had been her reasons again? Cassandra had been so sure of them at the time, so safe in the knowledge that she was doing the right thing, being true to herself. But now? She didn't really want to think about it.
Her anger warred with the ache in her chest and it seemed there would be no peace, for anyone.
Cassandra almost bumped into Trevelyan on the battlements one day, and it caught her off guard. She hadn't been expecting to see her. Something flared in her stomach and she realised it must have been months since they'd been face to face like this.
She exhaled slowly. "Inquisitor?" said Cassandra, her voice laced with worry.
The Herald of Andraste looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark shadows, giving the impression that they had sunk down into her skull. The effect was compounded by her face being thinner and paler than it should be. Cassandra had to resist the urge to caress her too prominent cheek.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She'd heard whispers around the castle, that the Inquisitor working long into the night and not sleeping besides. But to see the evidence with her own eyes...
Something constricted in the Seeker's chest, hard enough to hurt.
"Cassandra," said the Inquisitor, blinking rapidly as though unused to the sunlight. Her voice was hoarse, though whether it was from disuse of something else, Cassandra couldn't tell. "It's... I'm fine. I... it seems like it's been an age since I've seen you."
"It has," Cassandra agreed. There was a lump in her throat somehow, and it was difficult to talk. "I... I've missed you, Inquisitor."
Something flickered in Trevelyan's tired eyes that Cassandra couldn't quite read. Hope, or something else? She sighed briefly. "It's good to see you," said the Inquisitor.
A warmth she'd not realised she'd been missing washed over her, Cassandra felt awkward and gangly all of a sudden, unsure of herself. She put her hands firmly behind her back to stop her from fidgeting with the straps of her armour. It didn't work, so she put them in front of her again. "Would you care to take a walk, Inquisitor?" she asked, on a whim. It would give her legs something to do at least.
A smiled moved across the Inquisitor's face and for a moment she was back to how she was, how she used to be before... before Cassandra had broken her heart.
Why had that been so difficult to admit to herself? That that was what she had done that day on the battlements when Cassandra had given the Inquisitor every excuse she could think of for not pursuing the... whatever it was that had been blooming between them. It had not escaped Cassandra's notice that at no point had Trevelyan's flirting actually made her uncomfortable. Dealing with the implications of that, however, very much had.
"I'd be delighted," said the Inquisitor, tucking a hand into the crook of Cassandra's arm. The Seeker in question barely remembered that she'd spoken and almost tripped ungracefully over her own feet as the Inquisitor led on. Her heart thundered inside her ribcage and blood roared in her ears. She couldn't think, couldn't clear her mind, not with Trevelyan so close to her.
"That day on the battlements," said Cassandra and Trevelyan stiffened against her. Why had she brought it up? Her heart pounded against the ache in her chest and she knew why. At last she understood. The Inquisitor had been hurting, that was why she'd avoided Cassandra's presence, but so was she and she wanted it to end. She charged on with all the bluntness she was known for. "I hurt you with my words, that day and for that I am truly sorry. It was not my intention."
"There is nothing for you to apologise for Cassandra." The Inquisitor's eyes fluttered closed briefly and when they opened again Cassandra could see the pain in them. "The fault lies with me for wanting things I cannot have."
Part of Cassandra was screaming at her that the Inquisitor could have whatever she wanted. She fought the urge to shout this thought out loud. Instead of foolish declarations she was sure she could go through with declaring, she stopped their walk and turned to face the Inquisitor.
Cassandra was sure she'd meant to say something but all rational thought fled as she drank in Trevelyan's face. Realisation hit her in the stomach harder than any hammer blow she'd ever taken and the ache in her chest eased a little for the first time in months.
"Maker, I've been such a fool," she said, her voice so quiet it was barely even a whisper. Her gaze was drawn inexorably to Trevelyan's lips and for once Cassandra gave in to temptation. She lowered her head and kissed the Inquisitor.
It was little more than a chaste peck on the corner of her mouth, a brief flirtation with the idea of kissing in general, but it was enough to get the point across.
Cassandra wasn't prepared for the sheer intensity of emotion such a gentle kiss could cause.
Trevelyan drew in a ragged breath at exactly the same time as Cassandra did. She gripped the Seeker's arms as though afraid to let go in case all of this dissipated on the afternoon breeze. In truth the Inquisitor's touch was almost painful, but Cassandra couldn’t bring herself to complain. It felt wonderful.
"But... I thought–"
Cassandra cut her off with another kiss, the way she'd read about in books. She'd always thought she’d be the one interrupted by a hot mouth against hers but as the Inquisitor deepened the kiss, her lips parting gently, she decided that this way round was good too.
Maker but her lips felt good! Cassandra thought she could well kiss those lips forever.
With a pang that felt almost like reluctance, Cassandra pulled away to rest her forehead against the other woman's. "I take it back," she said softly. "It wasn't you title or position of the fact you're a woman that prevented me from returning your affection, it was my own fear. I am sorry it took me so long to realise."
They were stood very close, practically on each other's toes, faces pressed together. Cassandra could feel the heat radiating from the Inquisitor's skin, even trough her breastplate. It felt wonderful.
The Inquisitor gave a short huff of laughter and the feel of it on Cassandra's face was sweeter than a summer breeze. "I thought... I thought there was no chance. I'm glad to be wrong about that but... I'm not really sure what to say," she said. The Inquisitor couldn't seem to stop smiling and the Seeker knew exactly how she felt.
Cassandra Pentaghast has always wanted to be swept off her feet by some romantic hero, so overwhelmed by her feelings it was difficult to speak. IT turned out that being the one doing the sweeping was most satisfactory indeed.
"They do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder." Cassandra stroked the Inquisitor's cheek with the back of her knuckled before reaching up to thread her fingers in Trevelyan's hair. "In my case at least it seems to be true."
The Inquisitor's eyes closed as Cassandra gently massaged her scalp. "And my being the Herald of Andraste and your leader and a woman isn't going to be an issue?"
Maybe. Later.
"I am returning your affection right now, am I not?"
"You are indeed and I don't know why I'm complaining." The Inquisitor pulled her in for another kiss. Cassandra sank into it, allowing herself to enjoy the Inquisitors affection after so long trying to distance herself.
They remained in each other's embrace for some time, wrapped up in each other, exploring, making up for lost time. Cassandra though it would take an appearance by Corypheus himself to pull her away from Trevelyan's lips. In the end all it took was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them.
Cassandra and the Inquisitor sprang apart like teenagers caught by their parents. Iron Bull was looking at them with his massive arms crossed and a smirk on his face. The Seeker felt a flush of heat rise in her cheek. A quick glance at the Inquisitor told her they were likely wearing matching blushes.
"Bull," said Trevelyan, her voice shaky and breathless. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh I don't know, Boss, I doubt it would be anything half as pleasant as what the Seeker is doing for you." Cassandra and the Inquisitor glared in unison, and the Bull relented. "Dorian, Sera and I were headed to the tavern for a round of drinks Boss, and we wondered if you wanted to join us." His smile broadened and he gave a little grunt of laughter. "Don't worry, I'll tell them you're busy. Sorry to interrupt." He turned on his heel with a surprising amount of grace and retreated before either of them could say anything. His loud chuckles could be heard well after he was out of sight.
A spear of panic hit Cassandra square in the chest, right where her breastplate sat. That was the cat well and truly out of the bag then.
The Inquisitor seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry about Bull; he won't say anything to the others. He can be surprisingly discreet when he wants to be."
"If he says anything I will kill him." Cassandra blew out a breath to relieve the tension she suddenly felt. "What happens now?"
"Now, you and I need to sit down and have a nice long talk about what just happened, where we stand and what we both want from this." Her eyes twinkled with the flirtation Cassandra had so callously tried to push away. She'd missed it. "And if you're very good Ill even let you kiss me again."
"I think I would like that," Cassandra said, smiling.
The Inquisitor gestured to Cassandra to follow her, presumably to somewhere a little more private than Skyhold's battlements and courtyards. This she did gladly; Cassandra would follow this woman anywhere whether it was into battle or beyond the end of the world. Following her wherever their hearts led them was easy by comparison.
For the first time in months the knot in Cassandra's chest loosened and she felt free again. She laughed out loud, unable to keep her happiness internal.
"Tell me Inquisitor," she said lightly. "Do you know any poetry?"