pikapeppa:

Thank you for this prompt! I was more than happy to fill it!

I wrote pure fluff and smut for this one – not even a little angst… because I’ll be taking these two to Heartbreak Central™ in a few days… TT^TT

Read here on AO3 instead.

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Athera glanced doubtfully at Skyhold’s dank prison cells, then smirked at Abelas. “Is this your idea of a romantic date?”

The Sentinel shot her a chiding look. “You must be patient. Some of the best destinations are the culmination of the most inglorious paths.” He reached out and took her hand. “Not much further now.”

Athera eyed him thoughtfully as he led her through the enclosed section of the prison and out toward the crumbling outer section, which opened out into a breathtaking – and vertiginous – view of the Frostback Mountains. The ancient stone floor in the center of this area had disintegrated completely, the ground giving way to the roaring waterfall that pulsed beneath the castle. Athera and Abelas skirted the edges of the walls, their bare feet carefully navigating the slippery path as he led her toward the outermost cell where the ground gave way to open sky.

He turned to her and took her hands. “We must climb partway down this wall. There are handholds, but I will give you some extra protection.”

He gently squeezed her hands, and a tingling warmth suffused her palms. She gave a little shiver at the unusual sensation, then smiled cheekily at him. “What, you don’t trust my balance? I’ll have you know I’m very nimble.”

“I know you are,” he said smoothly, and Athera bit the inside of her cheek in amusement as he graced her with a rare smirk. “But I do not take foolish chances. Now come.”

He began to climb down the wall, and as Athera followed him down, she marvelled at the effect of his magic on her hands; her grip felt stronger somehow and her palms almost sticky, but not in a disgusting way. She was quite sure that even if she tried to release the ancient stones of the wall, her hands would refuse to let go.

A short time later, her toes touched grass, and Abelas gallantly took her hand to help her find her footing as she looked around. He had led her to a narrow stretch of land, enclosed on the northeast by Skyhold’s majestic walls and sloping further down the mountain to the south. The waterfall had softened into a river that bissected this small stretch of land before flowing down to the south.

It was a lovely little spot. The grass underfoot was long and lush, and it tickled her ankles as she wiggled her bare toes. The area was scattered with hardy wildflowers that thrived in the cooler climes of the mountains, and the stars were startlingly bright overhead without the shroud of Skyhold’s torches to dim them.

“Wow,” she breathed. “This is a really nice spot. It’s so untouched.”

“Yes. It is very private,” Abelas agreed. “It is a purposely difficult path to follow.”

Athera frowned curiously. “Why?”

“It was once an emergency escape route,” he explained. “In case Tarasyl’an Te’las should ever be overrun.”

She released a tiny laugh at the thought. Skyhold overrun? The Inquisition’s castle might be ancient and falling apart in places, but Cullen and the Inquisition’s dwarven stonemasons all agreed it was the most impregnable fortress they’d ever encountered.

Abelas tilted her chin up to face him, and Athera’s amusement faded at the seriousness of his face. “Nothing is infallible, vhenan,” he said softly. He studied her face for a moment, then turned away to watch the rushing flow of the river. “Even the strongest structures can fall. It is often just a matter of time.”

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