[ID: A digital portrait of a Qunari man. He has freckled and scarred dark grey skin, green eyes with black sclera, and an array of facial piercings. He has two sets of black horns, one spiraling and one straight up, both decorated with golden jewelry. His hair is long, white, and braided, with charms, ribbons, and chains woven in. He wears a golden Saarebas collar with chains attached to it, a green shirt that reveals his chest, and a black half-cape. He is giving a judgmental side-glare.]
DWC prompt (welcome back): 4. In The Moment Kiss - Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked to damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop. For m!Adaar/Cassandra?
“The Inquisitor and his forces return!”, announced the guard at the gates to Skyhold.
Cassandra, who’d been idling at the tents nearby, sprung to her feet, fiddling with the ends of her gloves as the minutes dragged on, Qakar and his companions slowly coming into view as they reached the portcullis. A great many thoughts were running through her mind, and she couldn’t settle on just one.
This had been the case ever since he’d taken Blackwall, Cole, and Solas with him, following Hawke to the Western Approach to investigate the mysterious disappearance of every Warden this side of Thedas, leaving her at Skyhold to handle some of the other errands in Emprise du Lion whilst also cleaning up Crestwood.
The entire matter, from what she and the Inquisition had learned from Hawke’s Warden contact, none less than the disgraced Fereldan general, disturbed her to the core, along with the further news that a Venatori mage was freely using blood magic on the Wardens. It seemed as though she barely had any time to react before Qakar was assembling Inquisition forces to assault Adamant Fortress.
He’d briefly said his farewells to her before marching all the back west, instructing her to take command should the worst happen, and Corypheus strike at Skyhold with the Inquisition forces routed in the Western Approach by his minion Erimond—although she privately thought that there would be little to salvage should things be so dire, with such events almost certainly meaning that Qakar had perished.
The envoy that had been dispatched shortly afterwards informing her that the Inquisition forces had taken the fortress but the outcome of the siege was still in doubt, had done nothing to assuage her anxiety, seeing as a sole magister or Corypheus himself could undo all that in an instant. It was only the next one after that, saying that the Inquisitor himself had physically stepped out of the Fade and routed the demon army, that gave her any measure of peace—albeit leaving her many more questions.
And now, the advance party had returned, with Qakar at the fore. His broad shoulders and curled horns were just about coming into view, and although she’d felt a massive wave of relief wash over her even seeing him from that great distance, a new tremor had arisen, causing her to fidget ever so slightly more.
What was she going to say to him? What was she going to do? Maker, what ought she to say or do? She hadn’t the faintest on what to—
Then she saw him in front of her, with the entire advance party behind him, and the portcullis that would normally have separated them fully raised. And in that moment, although she wasn’t sure if it truly was appropriate or likely to end in anything besides embarrassment, she made her choice.
“Cassandra, I—”
Qakar never quite got to finish his greeting as she leapt up his full height, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms around his nape. Qakar reflexively took her own waist in his own arms as the two of them locked gazes, his in astonishment and hers in fondness, with the slightest touch of surprise that she’d pulled it off successfully.
He tried again, stuttering, “I—”
Now this time she silenced him with a kiss, filled with passion and longing and the heady, turbulent, storm of emotions rushing through her, all built up from the past few weeks. Their lips sealed and broke off again and again, her hands stroking his back as his wandered up to her shoulders and down her spine Time seemed to stop in that very moment, with nothing mattering.
Maker, if only this could last, with nothing else in the world besides the two of them in this bliss. But of course it couldn’t, with Cole’s voice being the one to break the silence as Blackwall and Solas stood dumbstruck.
“She worried for you. Night and day.”
Their lips left each other as Qakar tried to look over his shoulder and address the spirit.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Quite so.”
He gently let her down, his right hand supporting her rear as she released her grip around his sides. Solas was still blinking in disbelief, as Blackwall cleared his throat.
“Lady Seeker,” he said, “I see that your training in acrobatics has paid off—”
He was frozen solid, thankfully figuratively, by Qakar and Cassandra turning to stare at him.
Returning her gaze to the qunari, Cassandra asked, “Shall we continue this…”
“Elsewhere?”, he asked, finishing her sentence.
She nodded. “Unless you have to report immediately?”
“No, only almost immediately,” he said, shrugging.
Before she could complete her turn towards the stairs, he’d swept her off her feet, taking step by step towards them with her in his arms, the Lady Seeker giving him a singular giggle as she realised how swiftly he’d performed the romantic gesture.
“I think you have been taking my feelings on being carried away romantically rather too literally here.”
“You’re the one who leapt onto me,” he replied. “Now shush.”
She raised an eyebrow as she perceived the world moving around her. “Why?”
Smiling, Qakar answered, “Because I’m going to kiss you again.”
