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“She’s…. how has she not noticed yet?” Dorian elegantly pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated.
“Some people, mostly noble tossers mind, have funny ideas about who they can and can’t love. I reckon that’s it,” said Sera, sounding oddly lucid for the amount of beer she’d drunk.
“Humans and your rituals,” Bull said with a grunt. “I don’t know why you have to make it so damn complicated. If you want someone, you want them. What’s hard about that?”
“A great many things, if you’re doing it right,” said Dorian.
Sera punched him. “Ewww. Don’t talk about those things when I’m here.”
“You spoil all my fun,” Dorian muttered, rubbing his shoulder. “But the point still stands. How has our dear Seeker not noticed she’s head over heels for our Inquisitor?”
“Nobles. Ideas. Blah blah,” said Sera, draining her mug (though most of the beer went down her shirt). “Doesn’t really matter why, what matters is what we’re gonna do about it.” She smiled wickedly; the smile that had most of the Inquisition checking their underwear drawers for bees.
Bull dragged his gaze away from where Cassandra was talking to the Inquisitor with the most delightful blush on her cheeks. “Sera, it’s not our place to do anything. Even if it’s as obvious as the horns on my head.”
“Or elsewhere,” said Dorian into his wine glass.
“Still here,” said Sera, sticking her fingers in her ears. She quickly realised that she couldn’t drink her beer as effectively without her hands and gave up. “We should still do something. Might cheer up old grumpypants Seeker if she has a good roll around yeah?”
“Always works for me!” said Bull, not so much nudging Dorian conspiratorially as slapping him so hard he almost fell off the bench.
“Yes, quite,” he said, the slightest flush on his cheeks.
Sera ignored both of them. “So how do we do it? How do we get the Lady Seeker to realise how much she wants to rub her face in Inky’s tits?”
“Charmingly put, Sera.”
“Shut it Dorian, you know I’m right.”
“The Boss doesn’t seem like she’d mind that either,” said Bull stroking his chin thoughtfully. There was an equal chance he was thinking about Cassandra rubbing her face in the Inquisitor’s cleavage as he was imagining himself doing it. Either way, neither Sera nor Dorian were going to ask for more details. “Couldn’t we just, you know, ask them both about it?”
“Right, because having my head chopped off by a pissy Cassandra is exactly how I want to die,” Sera said with a scowl. “We need to be more subtle than that.”
“Are you sure you know the meaning of the word subtle, Sera?” asked Dorian, raising his eyebrow.
“You are such an arsebiscuit, why do I even like you?”
“Must be my biting wit, incomparable charm and incredible good looks,” he replied without a trace of modesty.
“I know why I like you,” Bull said in a low, appreciative rumble.
“Not listening, not listening.” Sera started humming to distract herself. Until she realised it was Sera Was Never she was was singing under her breath and she stopped, disgusted with herself. She took another long swig of her drink (which Bull kept refilling for her) and slammed it down on the table, struck by an idea. “We need to pull a prank on them to get them together.”
“Well this is going to end badly,” said Bull, clearly amused. “What did you have in mind?”
“You know back home it’s traditional to lock an oblivious couple in a closet somewhere for a few hours until they manage to work things out,” Dorian said.
Sera shook her head. “Josie would find them before they get anything sorted out.”
“Not if we run interference,” said Bull with a wicked glint in his eye.
“By interference you mean pranks right? Oh please say we can prank Lady Ruffles while Inky and the Seeker are locked in a cupboard. Please.” Sera was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Never mind an insane darkspawn magister bent on becoming a god, I think you’re the greatest threat Thedas has ever known, Sera.” Dorian sounded almost impressed.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah whatever, are you in or not?”
“Oh I’m in. This should be entertaining at the very least.”
They both turned to look at Iron Bull.
“Count me in as well. The Boss deserves a little happiness with all the shit she has to put up with.”
“Wicked,” said Sera, grinning broadly.
The rest of the evening was spent consuming an inadvisable amount of alcohol and working out their plan of attack. The game was on.
Given that all three matchmakers were rather more than three sheets to the wind when they came up with the idea, the plan ended up being very simple. Dorian would get Cassandra into position while Sera was in charge of getting the Inquisitor there. Once they’d been shoved in the closet—well, room, they’d elected to use one of the rooms overlooking the garden since they had a better chance of convincing the two ladies to enter—Dorian would stand guard outside armed with his charming wit and silencing spells. Meanwhile Sera and Bull would cause so much havoc around the castle that no one would spend much time searching for the missing nobles.
Sera had roped her girlfriend into assisting with the distraction; Dagna was always happy to make something explode, intentionally or otherwise. It hadn’t taken much persuasion to convince her to set something off that would create lots of smoke to drive all the Orlesian noble pricks out of the great hall and into the prank gauntlet in the courtyard. Bull, for his part, had laid down enough coin for the Chargers to open up a few casks of good ale, knowing that the Herald’s Rest was much rowdier when they were good and drunk. It took surprisingly little to convince them to start the party during the day.
With the plan in place, Dorian and Sera went to fetch their respective targets while Bull got Krem and the Chargers started on the booze.
***
“Ah, Cassandra, there you are,” said Dorian, barely taking his eyes off the book in his hands. “I was wondering if you could help me with this.”
Cassandra made a noise of annoyance. “What is it Dorian? I have many things that require my attention.”
He flashed his most winning smile. “This won’t take too much of your time, I promise.” Cassandra grunted her acquiescence. “Splendid. Now, I’ve been doing some research into the Rite of Tranquillity and I understand the vigil you underwent had some similarities.”
“It did yes. I was essentially made tranquil without my knowledge or consent.”
“That sounds shit, if you’ll pardon my language. I’m hoping your experiences might help develop new ways of reversing the rite; after all, reversal is still so rare and there is no guarantee the current methods will work for everyone. The more methods we have the more people we can help, wouldn’t you say?”
Cassandra gave a small smile. “It would be good to help those who were made Tranquil unnecessarily. What did you want to know?”
“Could you describe the experiences you underwent during you vigil to me please? Tell me everything.”
When given a subject on which she was both knowledgeable and interested, Cassandra could speak at great length. Especially if her knowledge had the potential to help people. Once she started talking it was a simple matter for Dorian to gently guide her towards the prepared trap.
One down; one to go.
***
“Oi, Shiny!” Sera yelled, dangling upside down from the banister.
The Inquisitor smiled up at her, apparently not surprised in the slightest. “Sera. What can I do for you?”
“Pfft, more like what can I do for you, yeah. Stuff’s been shit lately. All this Inquisitor nonsense to deal with. You need to have some fun, remember that you’re people.”
“I don’t know Sera, I have meetings with my council all day…”
“That’s what I’m saying. You’ve been spending too much time shut away thinking about Coryphitit and creepy Templars and Wardens being crap. If you don’t take a break you’re gonna lose it and if you lose it you’ll end up as bad as the guy we’re trying to stop.”
Trevelyan sighed. “You do have a point. What did you have in mind?”
Sera grinned wildly. “Pranks, what else?”
“Of course. What else?” The Inquisitor sounded annoyed but there was a smile playing about her lips.
“Worked last time didn’t it? We’re staying away from Sister Stabbity though. She ‘had words’”—here Sera actually made air quotes with her fingers—“with me after our last adventure and I don’t fancy repeating that. We could get Ruffles all wet again though, she’s easy on the eyes.”
“Alright, but if anyone asks I’m blaming you. Lead the way.”
Sera swung down from the banister smiling like the cat that got the cream. “Wicked.”
She couldn’t resist getting in a few genuine pranks before getting round to the point of the exercise. As a result by the time Sera got the Inquisitor where she was meant to be, they were both on the run from a rather irate Solas. Turns out he didn’t appreciate having paint bombs dropped on his shiny, bald head.
“Quick, in here,” Sera yelled, opening the agreed upon door. The Inquisitor did as she was told, not stopping to question why Dorian was stood outside. She skidded into the room and Sera slammed the door closed behind her, locking it as quickly as her deft fingers would allow. Dorian threw up several magical wards and a muffling spell, just to make sure.
“Andraste’s saggy bottom, that was close,” Sera said breathlessly, leaning against the door they’d just locked the Seeker and the Inquisitor behind.
“What did you do, Sera?” Dorian folded his arms and looked disapproving, as though he’d already forgotten what they’d just done.
“Nothing yet. I’m just getting started.” Just then, a muffled explosion from the direction of the great hall signaled the next stage of the plan. “That’s my cue, gotta go.” Sera dashed off again, scrambling down the roof and dropping gracefully into walled garden. She, at the very least, was having a wonderful time.
***
Dagna’s smoke bomb worked even better than planned; the explosion had filled the main hall with a thick, acrid smoke that was going to take hours to dissipate. As expected, this had driven all the stuffed shirt nobles who normally spent their time hobnobbing by the fires out into the main courtyard and into Sera’s mischievous clutches. She’d hidden an array of water bombs, paint bombs and sundry other irritating missiles on the roof of the armoury. She settled herself up there and began lobbing her goodies into the crowd of already panicked and pissed off nobles.
Josie, being the sort of person who could keep her head under pressure and rather smarter than the average posh tosser, quickly worked out where this new threat was coming from and began fighting her way through the crowd to the armoury. Sera crowed with delight when she managed to get the Antivan with one of her projectiles, soaking her through exactly as she’d suggested to the Inquisitor.
The aerial barrage only served to drive the beleaguered visitors in the direction of the nearest cover, which just so happened to be the tavern. By some lucky stroke of timing, when the first masked twatbasket held their hand out to open the door was the exact same moment the brawl Bull had started spilled out into the courtyard. Sera whooped with delight and scrambled down off the roof to join the chaotic crowd. Who knew what valuables she’d be able to lift off these primped and preening pricks? And even if their pockets were disappointingly empty she had a few presents she could leave behind.
As far as she was concerned this plan was going off without a hitch. It was the most fun she’d had in a long time.
***
All in all Bull thought he’d gotten the easiest part in their crazy plan to get the Seeker and the Boss together. His job was to sit in the tavern, encourage the Chargers to drink and prod them towards making mischief. So, not that much different from a normal day; there was just slightly more ale being thrown around and his coin purse was a little lighter than usual. It was all in aid of a good cause and if they actually pulled this off the extra coin spent would have been well worth it.
By mid-afternoon most of the Chargers were distinctly unsteady on their feet. The floor of the tavern was awash with spilled ale but Bull knew Cabot wouldn’t mind too much; the drink had already been paid for and the floorboards were almost never dry by the end of the night anyway. Not that Cabot ever seemed particularly bothered about anything. Part one of his job was complete: get the Chargers drunk. So far though the only mischief they’d gotten into was singing loudly and distinctly off key.
Bull might have only one eye but his hearing was pretty good. He managed to hear the sound of Dagna’s experiment going up even over the caterwauling of the Chargers. That was his signal that phase two of the plan was in progress and he needed to step up his efforts to create havoc and general distraction.
With all the nobles visiting Skyhold inevitably came a slew of household retainers and bodyguards. With their masters safe behind the walls and might of the Inquisition there was little for them to do and they all ended up in the Herald’s Rest without fail. Bull grinned to himself; most of them were as pissed as his mercenaries and far too used to taking it easy. They’d be easy to goad into a fight and they’d be no match for Bull’s Chargers. The next move was obvious.
Bull climbed to his feet unsteadily and headed to the bar for a refill, swaying a little. One of the noble’s guardsmen was just coming back, his tankard full. Bull intentionally leaned in the direction of the unsuspecting soldier and let his knee give way just a little. He crashed into the man, spilling his drink all over the floor.
“My apologies,” said Bull, managing to make his voice sound contrite. “Here, let me get you another one.”
“Don’t touch me you clumsy oaf,” spluttered the retainer, his voice thick with drink and an Orlesian accent. “Bloody oxmen can’t be trusted to do anything without making a mess.”
Bull glanced back to where his Chargers were sitting and sure enough every one of them was focused on the guy currently hurling racial epithets at their boss. Krem’s face was hard and Bull knew there would be trouble. The boys really were overprotective of him considering he was an eight foot slab of muscle with a pair of enormous horns.
Krem got up and made his way over. The fool Bull had nudged was still ranting.
“The Chief apologised for spilling your drink and offered to buy you a new one,” Krem said. “There’s no need for all this.”
“Stay out of this, boy,” spat the Orlesian soldier. “Or is this your cow that’s stumbling around like a half-wit? Maybe you should keep it on a tighter leash.”
“Apologise to the Chief, now,” said Krem, his voice low and dangerous.
The Orlesian ignored the threat written all over Krem’s face and continued insulting Bull’s race, parentage and prowess in battle. The next thing Bull knew the guardsman was sprawled on the floor and the entire tavern had gone silent. A group of men and women in the same uniform as the man Krem had punched were on their feet as were the rest of Bull’s men.
Bull grinned as the Orlesians made their way over, spitting with rage and wounded pride. He’d known it would be easy to provoke a fight. This was going to be fun.
“Chargers!” he called. “Horns up!”
***
In the end it took more than four hours to sort through the chaos. Josephine and Vivienne joined forces to soothe the nobles’ ruffled feathers and Cullen brought his troops in to deal with the escalating bar fight. By the time things were calm again both Sera and Bull were sporting split lips, bloody knuckles and black eyes. That didn’t get them out from under Ambassador Montiliyet’s scrutiny though. Just when they thought they’d escaped Josephine collared them, literally grabbing the pair by the ears.
“I don’t know if your actions were premeditated or whether you just took advantage of the chaos but you have answers I need,” Josephine said, her to be making it clear she would brook no argument.
“Uh well, you see–” Bull began. Josephine shot him a glare. “Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”
“Traitor,” Sera hissed under her breath.
“Now, I have a great many apologies to make when all this is done,” said Lady Montiliyet, glaring at them alternately. “At the moment I am putting this afternoon’s shenanigans down to high spirits and boisterous personalities but privately I am not convinced that that is all there is to the matter. It has not escaped my notice that neither Inquisitor Trevelyan nor Seeker Pentaghast have been seen since this nonsense started.”
Sera felt her cheeks grow hot at that and Bull laughed. “Busted,” he said in his low rumble.
“Indeed,” said Josephine, her eyes flashing. “Now, you are going to take me to wherever you’ve locked Cassandra and the Inquisitor away. In the meantime you will explain to me exactly what you were up to.”
Sera and Bull shared a look and Bull shrugged. Sera sighed, annoyed that he’d given in so easily. “Fine,” she said, stomping off towards the keep. “But we were just trying to help.”
“I should very much like to know how covering more than a dozen nobles in paint, flour and water counts as ‘helping’,” Josie said. “To say nothing of putting them in the middle of the worst tavern brawl I have ever had the displeasure of witnessing.
“Well it wasn’t really them we were trying to help was it?” Sera pointed out.
Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose. “Andraste’s Grace I dread to think how this afternoon’s debacle was supposed to help Lady Cassandra and Lady Trevelyan.” It wasn’t quite a question but there was no doubt that Josie wanted an answer to that. By tacit agreement Sera and Bull kept quiet; Dorian was much better at talking than they were anyway.
As they exited the main keep onto the balcony Sera saw Dorian leaning up against the door they’d shut their quarry behind, his nose buried in a book. Typical Dorian to catch up on his reading while his co-conspirators were getting into trouble. He looked up as the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind the trio and seemed to size the situation up pretty quickly.
“Well that took longer than I expected,” he said, the smile on his face not wavering by a millimetre. “You two look like you’ve been having fun.”
“Shut it Sparklybits.” For all that this has been Sera’s idea in the first place and she’d always known they’d get caught eventually, she wasn’t enjoying the actual experience of it.
“I assume you have Seeker Pentaghast and Inquisitor Trevelyan locked behind that door,” Josephine said sounding very much like she was getting to the end of her patience.
“You assume correctly,” Dorian replied. They could be discussing the weather from the tone of his voice. “Shall I let them out?”
“I think that would be best.”
Dorian shrugged and started undoing the wards he’d placed on the door. Sera half expected to hear shouted threats and curses as soon as the muffling spell was dismantled but she didn’t hear anything. That unnerved her. Badly. That could mean real trouble.
When the door finally swung open to reveal the hapless couple they were conversing happily, as though spending the afternoon locked up in the guest quarters had been their idea in the first place. In fact it took them several moments to realise they had company. Sera was disappointed; they’d been locked in a room with a bed for hours and they were both still fully clothed.
“Nugshit, it didn’t work,” she said out loud, frustration evident in every syllable.
Cassandra’s face darkened at that. “What didn’t work?” She stood and stretched before advancing on the elf, who’s irritation was rapidly turning into terror. “What were you hoping to accomplish by locking us both in here?”
“Yes Sera, tell the Seeker what you were hoping to do,” said Dorian, looking insufferably smug.
“I have not forgotten your part in this, Tevinter,” said Cassandra dangerously.
Trevelyan stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Come now Cassandra, it was just a little prank. No harm done.”
“That remains to be seen,” she said, eying the state of Bull and Sera.
“Now that we’ve freed your unwilling captives,” said Josephine, “perhaps you would like to explain what the purpose of it all was.”
Both Dorian and Bull looked directly at Sera, their meaning clear: this was your idea, you get us all out of this.
“Well it’s… you know. They weren’t doing anything about it. Someone had to,” Sera said, suddenly feeling like she might have made a huge mistake.
“About what?” asked the Inquisitor.
“About the way she looks at you,” said Sera, gesturing at a visibly angry Cassandra.
“And how, pray tell, do I look at the Inquisitor?”
For once Sera paused to think before she answered because it was clear that simply locking the two of them away hadn’t worked, hadn’t done anything at all to alleviate the awkward tension between the Seeker and the Inquisitor. They were both on a knife edge and if Sera knew that if she didn’t say the right thing now then they might never stumble upon what she could see so plainly. And as much as she’d delighted in making crude jokes about what they may or may not want to do with each other, even she could see that they were on the brink of something wonderful.
Sera sighed, trying to fit all the words in her mind together in the right way. “How do you look at Inky? Same way you look at that statue of Andraste in the chantry. Like she’s the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe you get to share the same air as her.” Sera grinned. “You look at her like you’re in love, cos you frigging are, yeah?”
Cassandra’s cheeks were pink and her mouth open; she was utterly shocked at the revelation and everyone there could see it. “I do not!” she said, in futile protest.
“Yeah you do,” Sera argued, softly. “It’s okay though yeah? Inky looks at you the same way.”
Both Cassandra and Trevelyan were sporting pink cheeks now. “I’m sure she–” Cassandra began, her voice faltering when she looked at the Inquisitor.
“And in our infinite wisdom we decided the only course of action was to lock the pair of you in a room until you’d worked it out for yourselves,” said Dorian, stepping neatly back into the conversation.
“And in the meantime Sera and Iron Bull caused as much mayhem as they possibly could?” asked Josephine.
“That was just a, uh, tactical diversion,” said Bull. “We knew you’d sniff us out in a second if we didn’t give you something else to worry about ambassador.”
“I cannot believe that you would go to such lengths for something as ridiculous as this,” said Cassandra, clearly angry now (although to be perfectly honest when wasn’t she angry?). “I do not look at the Inquisitor like I am in love with her and she most certainly does not look at me like that.” She glanced at Trevelyan, presumably looking for support but no denial was forthcoming from the Inquisitor.
Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose. “I appreciate that the three of you meant well but this is not the proper way to encourage Cassandra to admit her feelings for the Inquisitor,” she said, an exasperated look on her face.
“See, even Lady Ruffles can see it!” said Sera, like Josephine having divined Cassandra’s feelings proved her point and made everything okay.
“You all knew?” Cassandra asked, her jaw dropping in complete shock before her expression turned to irritation. “Is there anyone in Skyhold besides myself who wasn’t aware of my feelings?”
“Um, I wasn’t,” said Trevelyan, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “But I hoped.”
Cassandra said nothing; she just kept looking at the Inquisitor like she’d sprouted horns.
“Maybe we should give them some space,” Bull said, amusement threaded through his voice. “Four hours in a locked room obviously wasn’t long enough.”
“Indeed,” said Josephine. “Well we’ll leave them to it. In the meantime you three can help clear up the mess you made.” There was no arguing with her when she used that tone of voice. “Seeker. Inquisitor.” Josephine turned on her heel and marched away. “Come along you three.”
“Frigging shite,” Sera said, stomping after the ambassador. Dorian and Bull followed, laughing.
***
After the four of them had made their retreat Cassandra and Trevelyan just stood there looking at each other. They’d spent the afternoon locked in a room together against their will and everything had been fine but now, now they were outside and could go wherever they wanted things were uncomfortable. Neither of them seemed to know how to deal with Sera’s revelations.
“She’s always been annoyingly perceptive when you don’t want her to be,” Trevelyan said. “So, you look at me like you’re in love?”
“Apparently you look at me the same way,” Cassandra pointed out. “I just– I didn’t– I’ve never… You hoped?” she said at last, seeming to give up on trying to articulate her thoughts and feelings.
Trevelyan nodded. “I’ve been… interested for a while. Since Haven. You never seemed to notice my flirting though.”
Cassandra flushed, her cheeks the colour of the early dawn sky. “I noticed. I just– I never knew how to respond. I haven’t– not with a woman.”
The Inquisitor understood then that if this were to be resolved to her satisfaction she would have to be the one to step up; their friends had done their part, given them a chance. Though their methods might be suspect but their hearts were in the right place. Trevelyan had been sure for a while now that hers was too and it was time to act on that. She’d stared down and archdemon and a darkspawn magister who would be a god. Compared to that, how hard could it be to reveal her heart to the woman in front of her?
She stepped forward, right into Cassandra’s personal space. The Seeker instinctively tensed and then consciously relaxed her posture. “Cassandra,” Trevelyan said, her voice barely more than an intimate breathy whisper. “You know I value your counsel and your support. Since the beginning you’ve been by my side and I honestly couldn’t do this without you.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Above all else you are my friend and if that’s all you can offer I will accept that. But the Maker knows I want more than that. Sera was right about one thing; I look at you like I love you because I do.”
Cassandra gave a half hysterical bark of laughter. “Maker, I thought it was hero worship. You are the Herald of Andraste, you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes and the mark on your hand may be the key to our salvation. But more than that you’ve shown a willingness to help people, a determination to do the right thing. How could I not admire you?” Cassandra swallowed loudly and when she spoke again her voice was deeper, husky. “But I cannot deny that there is more to it than that. I cannot help but notice… you are a very beautiful woman.” Cassandra reached out to brush a lock of hair out of Trevelyan’s face. “You take my breath away.”
“Cassandra…” breathed Trevelyan, hardly daring to believe this was real. Her hand shook slightly as she placed it on top of the Seeker’s, keeping it against her cheek.
A smile slowly spread over Cassandra’s face, one of the genuine smiles that made Trevelyan fall even harder. “It’s no secret any longer that I am a romantic at heart. I have often imagined what it would be like to have someone I care for declare their love for me.” She moved closer to the Inquisitor, their faces inches apart. “You– That was better than I ever thought it could be. It was perfect.”
Cassandra pressed her lips to the Inquisitor’s mouth. The kiss was chaste, gentle, a promise of more later but it made both women’s breath hitch. Trevelyan pulled away, her breath ragged, like she’d just been in a battle. “It seems we still have much to discuss. Would you walk with me Lady Cassandra?”
“It would be my pleasure,” the Seeker replied slipping her hand into the Inquisitor’s.
***
Later that evening, after Josephine had made her clear up all the mess and apologise to the posh tits she’d pranked, Sera went looking for Cassandra and Trevelyan. She was curious; there was a burning need in her chest to know if they’d managed to figure it out, if it had all been worth it.
She found them in the chantry garden a little before midnight. They were hidden in the back corner under the pavilion, and there was no mistaking what they were up to. Bodies pressed together, hands in each others hair and silly smiles on their faces, when their lips were visible at all. Maybe they weren’t as hopeless as she’d thought after all.
Sera grinned to herself, biting down on a whoop of victory as the Seeker’s hand sought out the Inquisitor’s breast. “Frigging knew it.”