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The rain has been coming down in noisy sheets for days, filling Skyhold’s courtyard and garden with large, muddy puddles that discourage walking. The mountain passes are flooded and treacherous, according to the scouts. No one is allowed to travel. Most people stay indoors.
There is little Inquisitor Lavellan can do, which is frustrating since the war table is as crowded with map markers as ever. Her days are spent in grumbling boredom. Her nights get longer and longer, and she wonders if picking up a drinking habit might be the cure for the insomnia that has plagued her ever since the rain started.
Cassandra finds her in the library on the sixth morning, curled up in an overstuffed chair next to a window. She is watching the rain splatter onto the courtyard below, filling it with miniature lakes and rivers. A thick volume lies open in her lap.
“It seems your book has failed to maintain your interest, Inquisitor.”
Larana turns away from the window. The Seeker stands in front of her, a hint of disapproval evident in the downward curve of her lips.
“Aneth ara ,” she says softly, before glancing at the heavy tome in her lap. It is a treatise on healing magic and the ethics involved therein. They can’t all be Swords and Shields, she stops herself from saying. Cassandra’s exasperation is fun to elicit, but she doesn’t want to push her luck. Instead, she opts for a bit of honesty. “I only grabbed it because it looked boring.” She smiles when Cassandra arches an eyebrow. “Figured it might help with the insomnia.”
Cassandra’s forehead wrinkles. “You’re not sleeping?” At Larana’s wordless shrug, there’s a sharp intake of breath. “You are too inactive, sitting around Skyhold with nothing to do. You need exercise. Come. We should train together.”
“You and me? Train?” She gives Cassandra’s lithe and powerful frame a once-over, before pulling a face. “We don’t exactly practice the same school of combat.”
“To put it mildly. Your hand-to-hand combat skills are practically nonexistent.”
Larana frowns and holds up her hands. “That’s what sparkle fingers are for.”
“And what happens when you cannot cast? When you’ve exhausted your mana? Or even worse, had it drained from you?”
“Hasn’t happened yet,” Larana says, but knows her tone lacks conviction. She shifts positions until her feet dangle above the floor. “Don’t you think it’d be better for me to learn from someone like Solas? Or Vivienne? Or even Dorian?”
“Why would you…?” Cassandra narrows her eyes. “I see what it is. You are afraid of me.”
“I am not.” Cassandra raises an eyebrow. Larana lets out a noisy sigh. “Alright, fine . I’m afraid of you. Because I have half a brain! Everybody is afraid of you. Even Iron Bull is afraid of you.”
“He should be. He is weak on his left side. I would exploit that.”
Larana’s lips fight a grin. It is a relief to know she isn’t the only one that suffers under Cassandra’s scrutiny. “Well, what do you expect? We can’t all be a frightening forces of nature on the battlefield like you. To put it mildly. ”
For once, Cassandra is impervious to her teasing tone. She crosses her arms and smirks down at Larana. “I know how to check my swing, Inquisitor. I will not hurt you. You have my word.”
Larana suppresses a groan. She knows she doesn’t really have a reasonable objection to this argument, but she isn’t keen to reveal to Cassandra how uncoordinated she can be when she isn’t casting. She’s built her entire combat strategy on being good at two things: incapacitating people and getting away from them. So far that’s worked fine.
But the prospect of spending time with Cassandra is too tempting. Foolish of her, probably, but it’s an innocent enough activity. She closes her book and sets it down on the table next to her, before getting to her feet.
“Alright. But can we do this someplace dry? I mean, not that the idea of wrestling in the rain with you isn’t tempting…”
That brings a hint of a blush to Cassandra’s cheek, but she turns and speaks over her shoulder. “Come. I know a place.”
____________________________________________
“Is this going to be enough room?” Larana turns and surveys the underground hall where Cassandra leads her. It has a low ceiling and a pair of pillars on each side. “Seems like a tight fit.”
At Cassandra’s insistence, they’ve changed into practice clothes and they each brandish wooden weapons—a longsword and a small round shield for Cassandra and an unadorned staff for Larana.
“It should suit our purpose. Now, tell me: what is your usual strategy when you run out of mana?”
Larana leans against her staff, one hand wrapped around the top. “Dunno. It’s never happened before, like I said.”
“You’ve never run out of mana in a fight? Not once?”
She shrugs. “It’s not that hard if you’re careful. Just takes discipline and good timing. And a good pair of meatheads distracting the worst of the bad guys for me,” she adds with a crooked smile.
“That’s commendable, but all the discipline and good timing in the world won’t help you if a Templar smites you.”
Larana tries not to flinch at Cassandra’s uncompromising tone. “Isn’t that what we’re here for? So, what should I do?”
Cassandra backs away a few steps. “Let’s establish a baseline for your performance,” she says, taking a ready stance. “I will come at you. Defend as best as you can without magic.”
“Right.” Larana grips her staff in two hands, trying to ignore the way her pulse throbs in her neck. I’m about to get run over by a siege engine. She grits her teeth and nods at Cassandra. “Ready,” she lies.
Cassandra bends her head and charges, her shield held high, her sword ready to swing after the initial crash—a move Larana has seen her perform countless times in battle against their enemies.
The staff feels like a useless plank of wood in her hands. She tries to dodge out of Cassandra’s path, but the Seeker is too fast and corrects her trajectory easily. Before Larana can even blink, Cassandra is inches from her and she fears she’ll be smashed between her shield and the wall. Instinct wins over rational thought, and Larana jerks her hand to her forehead and sends a burst of force magic out in every direction.
The mind blast knocks Cassandra backwards and leaves her stunned for a heartbeat, but she keeps to her feet. Of course.
“Ir abelas! ” Larana raises one hand, palm outward. “I didn’t mean to do it, I just reacted.”
She expects a lecture or at least a disapproving glare, but Cassandra shrugs it off. “It is fine. Come, let’s try again. This time, no magic.” She lifts her shield and her sword, but when Larana just stands there without readying her weapon, she frowns. “What is it?”
Larana takes a deep breath. “I’m not going to be able to resist using magic if I’m cornered like that again,” she confesses and then winces. “I think you’re going to have to drain my mana to do this right.”
Cassandra lowers her shield and sword. “You want me to smite you?”
“Not really, but I don’t see this working any other way.” As Cassandra continues staring at her, gape-mouthed, she shrugs. “It’s alright. I trust you. I mean, you can do it’s so it’s not too painful, right?”
At last, Cassandra’s mouth snaps closed. She nods. “I can make it… merely unpleasant, rather than excruciating.”
“Oh. Alright. Great. Let’s have at it, eh?”
Cassandra blinks at her for a few long moments, and Larana can’t help flushing at the prolonged scrutiny. At last, Cassandra frowns, and looks at her out of the corners of her eyes. “If you are certain…?”
Larana straightens and sets her shoulders. “I am.”
She can’t help closing her eyes, so she doesn’t see Cassandra, but she is familiar enough with the move to know what it looks like. She will spread her arms wide and then bring them together, sending her power shooting forward, nullifying any magic in its path and draining the mana of her target. A second later, a great and smothering weight lands on her head and chest, and her knees buckle at the disorienting and unfamiliar sensation.
There is a metallic tang in her mouth, and when Larana opens her eyes, she half expects to see a world devoid of all color and shape. She’ll never be able to describe precisely how, but the loss of her mana makes her feel disconnected and numb.
Cassandra bends her head and peers at her. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Let’s do this again.”
The steps are almost the same as last time, but when Cassandra gets close, Larana freezes for a half second before blindly thrusting the end of her staff in the vague direction of Cassandra’s legs. Cassandra deftly sweeps Larana’s weapon aside with her shield, knocking the staff out of her hand and sending it clattering to the stone floor. She thrusts the practice sword under Larana’s chin. “You’re dead.”
Larana gives out a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the way the air seems to press down on her chest. “Guess I’ve got a lot to learn.”
Cassandra steps back and tilts her head to the side. “On the contrary, that was good.” At Larana’s incredulous look, she gives a small smile. “You only froze for a second before reacting. That shows you can think quickly. Now we just need to work on teaching you the right moves to use in that situation.”
Larana squints at Cassandra’s back as she watches her stoop and pick up the staff. She suspects Cassandra is only humoring her, but then again, she hasn’t known the woman to lie for the sake of someone’s feelings before. Maybe I’m not so hopeless after all.
Cassandra turns, and instead of giving Larana the staff, she holds out her sword, hilt first for Larana to take. “Here, I’ll show you.”
Larana takes the sword and shield, and after a little help with positioning, prepares to “charge” at Cassandra. When she does, Cassandra brings her staff down against Larana’s shield while deftly side-stepping her. Larana tries to change directions, but Cassandra thrusts the staff between Larana’s legs and twirls, tripping Larana and sending her crashing to the floor.
“Oof!” Larana rolls onto her back—the cold stone presses into her tender and bruised muscles. Cassandra takes a step and points the end of the staff at Larana’s face.
“Dead,” she says, before moving the staff away and bending down to offer Larana a hand.
Larana tries to catch her breath as she takes her hand and gets to her feet. “That was fun,” she says, before tilting her head to the side. “You can teach me that?”
Cassandra doesn’t answer, but looks down at her hand. Larana realizes she is still holding it—Cassandra’s skin is warm and calloused against the soft flesh of her palm. She lets go, blushing, and looks away.
Cassandra clears her throat. “Yes, I can teach you that move along with a few others. You have a blade on the end of your staff… I’ll show you how to best use it.”
____________________________________________
Larana goes to bed exhausted that night and for the first time in days she falls asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow. The rain doesn’t let up for a fortnight, and she and Cassandra train in the underground hall every day. Cassandra’s assertion about exercise being the key to conquering her insomnia proves correct. Not even sore muscles keep her awake each night.
All that rest comes at a price, however.
Larana spins on her heel while sweeping her staff in a wide arc, catching Cassandra in the side with enough force to elicit a surprised yelp of pain, even if it doesn’t incapacitate her. It’s enough of an opening for Larana to pivot the other way and finally catch the Seeker flat footed, sweeping her legs out from beneath her and sending Cassandra crashing to the ground. She’s still quicker than Larana, however, and lets go of her sword so that she can yank roughly on Larana’s wooden staff.
The sudden jerk of movement catches her off guard and she doesn’t let go of the weapon like she probably should. Instead, she holds on and is yanked forward—surely just as Cassandra planned, for the other woman manages to kick her feet out from under her at the same time, and Larana lands squarely on top of Cassandra.
She’s breathless and unable to move at first, until it dawns on her who she’s lying flat against. She jerks her head up and her gaze catches Cassandra’s, but instead of irritation or anger in her walnut hazel eyes there’s something else lingering there… curiosity, perhaps?
Before Larana is even aware what she’s doing, she’s lowering her head and pressing her lips to Cassandra’s mouth. The other woman—far from hesitant—kisses her back, wrapping her strong, sinewy arms around Larana’s small frame, holding her so tightly it robs her of breath...
Larana wakes with a start, her skin slick with sweat and her heart thumping against her ribs. Dammit, she thinks, half because she’s ashamed of the dream and half because she’s pissed she woke before it got any steamier.
The sunlight shines through intricately painted glass, sending prismatic colors streaming onto the bed’s covers. Larana sighs. The rain has stopped, at last.
She rises, and pushes the dream out of her mind as she gets dressed and heads downstairs. Just as she has for the last two weeks, she goes about her business, trying to pretend she’s not biding her time until her practice session with Cassandra—as if it isn’t the highlight of her day.
It’s difficult, but Larana isn’t keen on rejection, and the way Cassandra frowns more than flushes at her recent attempts at flirtation make her cautious. She worries that her advances aren’t welcome, and the idea that Cassandra might know the truth of how she feels is an abhorrent one. Better to pine away in secret forever than to be officially rejected, or so Larana thinks.
And yet, she can’t help herself—perhaps it is the dream—but today a few too many teasing lines fall from her lips.
Cassandra confronts her in a hallway that afternoon, waving her out a door and onto one of the castle’s many balconies.
“I was hoping we could speak privately,” she says, and Larana isn’t sure how, but she’s positive she knows exactly what Cassandra wants to discuss.
She forces a smirk. “Are we not?”
“Right. Of course we are.” They walk a few steps in silence, before Cassandra draws a steadying breath. “The flirting. With me. I’ve… noticed it. Unless it is my imagination, which is entirely possible…”
Her stomach twists in on itself, but she ignores it as they come to a stop and face each other. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”
Cassandra’s face is bathed in the golden light of the sun, and even while Larana wishes a hole in the ground would open up underneath her and swallow her, she can’t help but admire the view as Cassandra tries to form words. There is something endearing in the confident woman’s nervousness.
“Inquisitor,” she says, tilting her head and not meeting Larana’s gaze, “you are the Herald of Andraste, and my leader… and a woman.”
There it is. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Larana shakes her head. “You don’t have to say any more, Cassandra.” Please, don’t say anymore, Cassandra.
“I think perhaps I do.” Cassandra’s lips press into a straight line and her eyebrows draw together. “I… I know what I want. I want a man who… sweeps me off my feet, who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight. I want the ideal.”
Larana’s eyes are stinging but she tries to keep her face neutral during Cassandra’s speech, even though each word slices through her heart like knives. “I see.”
“Do you?” Cassandra says, tilting her head to the side. “I don’t think you do. When you look at me, you see a warrior. You see someone blunt and difficult and… self righteous. But my heart lies beneath all that. It yearns for these… things.”
“It’s alright. I get it. You don’t have to explain—”
Cassandra cuts her off by stepping close and gripping her upper arm. “You don’t see!” At Larana’s pained expression she lets go and brings her hand to her forehead. “This always happens! I can never say what I mean…” She shakes her head. “You make me feel… confused. I think I know what it is that I want… what I yearn for… but then there’s you, and with you I feel something… unexpected.”
Unexpected? Unexpected is… well, unexpected might not be totally terrible, right? “Oh, I… look, I understand if you’re confused. I can back off… take things slowly…”
Cassandra shakes her head. “No, that is not what I want. I’m not one to sit around deliberating. I need an answer to this now. Which is why…” She swallows visibly. “Which is why I think that you should kiss me.”
Larana blinks, sure that she misheard. “K-kiss you?”
Cassandra’s sharp cheekbones grow rosy. “Yes. If you kiss me, I’ll know if these feelings are real.”
Larana’s mouth hangs open. The idea that one kiss could answer so many questions… It’s ridiculous isn’t it? It sounds like some kind of romantic claptrap—
—which is of course why Cassandra believes it. It is just like her to imagine there is some magic in a kiss that could solve the puzzle of her heart. Larana isn’t so sure, but as she stares up at the woman she’s dreamed about for weeks, she realizes it’s worth the risk.
“Alright,” she says, and steps close. Cassandra’s going to have to meet her halfway if she wants this kiss to happen, but she simply stands there looking down her nose at Larana, seemingly frozen in place. Slowly, Larana reaches up and places her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders in order to gently pull her down. She tilts her face upward and rises up on her tiptoes as Cassandra acquiesces to her silent demand and bends her head low enough so that Larana can press a chaste kiss against her lips.
At least, it starts off chaste. Larana wonders if leaving her wanting more is a better strategy, and briefly contemplates pulling away after a mere second of contact, but if this going to be her one and only kiss from Cassandra, she wants to make it count. Cassandra’s lips are firmly pressed together at first, but as Larana gently explores her mouth they soften and part slightly, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Her mouth is warm and yielding and it takes Larana a few seconds to realize Cassandra isn’t kissing her back.
Feeling her stomach plummet, she breaks the kiss and rocks back on her heels, looking away to try and hide her disappointment.
“I’m sorry,” Cassandra whispers, and Larana is about to turn tail and flee when she goes on. “Can you try again?”
Larana’s head snaps up. The other woman’s lips are parted and moist and with a jolt Larana realizes Cassandra’s arms are wrapped around her. There is something soft yet urgent in her gaze, and it stops the breath in Larana’s throat. She’s stunned into silence for a heartbeat, and then she laces her fingers together behind Cassandra’s neck and pulls her back into another kiss.
This time, Cassandra kisses her back. It is a kiss worthy of one of her dreams—Cassandra’s arms pull her up and against her tightly while they explore each other’s mouths. When they finally part, Larana is out of breath and flushed. “That was nice,” she says, warmth spreading through her chest and limbs. She quirks an eyebrow. “To put it mildly.”
Cassandra looks down at her with a smile. “Well, that’s… surprising,” she says, before clearing her throat and letting her go. She backs away, looking at Larana out of the corners of her eyes. “I wasn’t sure… I didn’t know this. I mean… I suppose I have my answer.”
Larana has to take a deep breath to clear her mind. She’s positively giddy with delight. “It’s a good answer.”
They stare at each other silently for the span of a few heartbeats, until Cassandra’s expression turns somber. “Nevertheless… you are the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste. You cannot… court me.”
Larana’s head is still spinning and she can’t comprehend Cassandra’s words at first. “Did you just say I can’t court you?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“Um… it’s just a bit… formal, don’t you think?”
Cassandra huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I cannot be properly courted. It is impossible.”
Larana stares, her mouth empty of any words for once, until she’s finally able to shake her head and smile. “Nothing is impossible,” she says, confidence making her grin grow. “Not after that kiss.”
But Cassandra’s mood has fallen and she doesn’t seem so easily swayed. “The world hinges on our actions. We face death at every turn, Inquisitor.”
“Is that all?” Larana says, before schooling her expression into a more serious one in order to match Cassandra’s tone. “That doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“It changes everything,” Cassandra says, before turning on her heel and walking away.
Larana only has wits enough to stand there silently and watch. What does that even mean? It takes a few long moments for the reality of what has just happened to sink in. The gravity of Cassandra’s last words does not miss her, and leaves her wondering where she stands.
She lifts a hand to her mouth, imagining she can feel the press of Cassandra’s lips against her own again. The wind picks up, whipping her long red curls into her face, but she doesn’t make a move toward the door.
I cannot be properly courted.
If she can learn to swing a stick and defend herself without magic, Larana is sure she can learn anything. Optimism guides her steps as she rushes back inside and down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She bursts into Skyhold’s garden, intent on finding and gathering the perfect bouquet of flowers.
First flowers, then poetry. And then , who knows?
Anything feels possible.