Chapter Text
The dawn was still pink in the clouds above Skyhold when Cassandra closed the door of the forge behind her. She stretched, flexing her muscles as she prepared for her morning routine in the practice yard. Lifting her arms above her head, her eyes caught a hint of bright color out of place in the greenery beneath the window of The Herald’s Rest.
“Ugh” she sighed as she realized what had caught her eye was the bright red cover of a book. “Who has been leaving books out to spoil in the wet air,” she said aloud to no one.
Cassandra lifted the book, and as she turned it to read the name from the spine, a piece of loose parchment fell from the leaves. It was a Bestiary by a well known Orlesian biologist, something she was sure she had seen in the library.
“So little respect for the property of the Inquisition,” she thought.
She collected the scrap of paper from the damp grass, hoping it would indicate who had been so irresponsible, but instead of the notes she expected, the sheet contained only a short poem.
My eyes
Hands
Words are withheld
From you
Who hold nothing in reserve
Be it action or anger.
How am I to be forgiven
For this lie I tell you
With every unspoken thought.
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. Such a heartbreaking sentiment, and so beautifully written. She thought she recognized the tight but flowing hand, but could not place it.
Who had written this? Could it have been Dorian? But no, he may been reluctant at first, but now his relationship with The Iron Bull was anything but reserved. Perhaps Blackwall, everyone knew he was secretive to a fault, but no, he was no poet that was certain.
She thought for a moment of Varric, and a sharp sort of feeling stirred in her chest before being pushed aside. No, it was not written by the Dwarf. He had made his feeling on poets quite clear. “Mooncalves, idiots. Poets are just singers who can’t hold a tune,” he had said.
It made too much sense for Sera or Cole, was too kind for Vivienne, and it was assuredly not the Inquisitor, who was so open with every detail of his life that she could recite what he had had for breakfast for the last 3 days.
Cassandra sighed. It was a mystery. Perhaps there was hidden talent among the scouts just recently returned for resupply. She would ask Scout Commander Harding later. For now, she set the book on a bench and returned to her exercises. She would return it and its mystery to the library when she was finished.
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The afternoon sun was bright and a hard wind whipped the banners on the ramparts when Cassandra finally found Scout Harding in the courtyard.
“Scout Harding, may I have a word?” Cassandra asked.
“Ma’am, yes of course Ma'am..My Lady.. Ma’am” Harding replied. She wasn’t sure if Cassandra had ever spoken to her directly before. She hoped she hadn’t done anything wrong, because the tall Seeker scared the shit out of her.
“Ser would be the appropriate form of address, but there is no need to be overly formal,” Cassandra corrected. “I found one of the Inquisition library books in the courtyard this morning. It had been left overnight in the wet grass.”
Harding was not sure how to respond. “That’s... bad?” she said hesitatingly.
“Of course it is bad, that is no way to treat one of the inquisitions few precious books,” Cassandra snapped.
“Seeker, you're gonna make poor Freckles piss herself.”
Cassandra turned to look as Varric strode across the courtyard towards them.
“What’s got you all riled up, the wind unwrap your braid again? Are you grilling the girl for tips? She does have great hair,” Varric quipped.
“I was merely inquiring if anyone from the scout regiment had perhaps borrowed a book and failed to return it to the library,” Cassandra said. “I apologize if I was harsh with you Harding.” She turned to face the scout.
“It’s just fine Ser, I doubt it was one of mine though. This bunch aren’t really readers. What was the book about?” Harding asked.
“It was a bestiary. With a red cover,” said Cassandra.
Varric twitched, but the smirk on his face did not waver. Well, shit... of course it was the Seeker who had found the book. Ten to one she hadn’t opened it though, so maybe what he had left tucked inside the pages was still there.
“Well, we will all be on the lookout for the culprit. We wouldn’t want people ruining our few Orlesian books would we?” Varric laughed. “Is the precocious object back in the library where it can be protected, Seeker?”
Cassandra scowled and turned away from him.
“Thank you for your time Scout Harding, I hope you enjoy the rest of your break from the field,” she said before marching off towards her room above the forge.
“Geeze,” sighed Harding and visibly relaxed as she watched the Seeker walk away.
“Yeah,” laughed Varric. He clapped the Scout on the shoulder before heading inside the Herald’s Rest.