Sorry this took forever! I got the game and have been playing it nonstop. I edited this to reflect Blackwall more now that I've actually played, but I made sure not to add spoilers that might ruin things for people who haven't gotten to major stuff yet. Hope you like it! Just wanted to get a quick story out of my head, so this is the final chapter.

Blackwall spotted her from across the courtyard, walking at a snails pace as she simultaneously turned the page of her book. Her eyes lit up as they skimmed the page and a smile twitched at her lips. She was almost oblivious to one of the servant boys toting a pile of firewood towards Skyhold, and had to apologize as he quickly sidestepped to avoid running into her.

"Time crept to a standstill as he watched her with a smile on his lips and a distinct look of longing in his eyes."

Blackwall blinked and glared down at Varric. He'd forgotten they were talking. The dwarf only grinned and continued. "The tired warrior felt rejuvenated just looking at her. Perhaps there was fight in his old bones yet. He vowed that when his journey was complete he would approach her, ready to finally—"

"That's enough," Blackwall muttered. "Did the Champion appreciate your constant narrating, Varric?"

The dwarf chuckled. "She hated it. Word's still out on the inquisitor."

Blackwall glanced over at Rinn. She'd tucked the book away and was heading into the tavern. "I need to attend to something. Do me a favor and tell the others to wait up?"

"Right," Varric laughed. "Take your time, Warden."

Rinn nearly spilled the drink she was pouring when Blackwall entered the tavern.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she grinned. "I haven't seen you in days, Blackwall."

The other barkeep Layla rolled her eyes and headed upstairs with a tray of drinks.

He chuckled anxiously. "I've been, ah, busy."

"Busy doing what?" she asked, leaning over the bar.

Her white blouse wasn't particularly revealing but when she leaned forward it didn't leave much to the imagination. Blackwall's cheeks burned at the sight.

"Uh, you know. Inquisition things," he mumbled. He coughed awkwardly and dragged his gaze away, letting it land on the cover of the book resting on the bar. Adventures of the Black Fox. He picked it up and flipped through a few pages, eyes not truly taking any of it in.

"Oh! Have you read that one? Josephine lent it to me and I can't put it down. It certainly makes my life seem particularly dull in comparison," she laughed.

Blackwall gazed back at her. Thankfully she was standing straighter, her shirt collar back in place. "Are you unhappy?"

They'd talked about her past in Gwaren and her time during the Blight, but she always ended up changing the subject to ask Blackwall about his own adventures. He would have preferred to hear more about her, but he never pushed her. Besides, he enjoyed watching her gasp and grin at his stories far more than he would ever admit.

Rinn shook her head quickly. "No, no. I love it here. It's far more interesting than Gwaren. Everyone has such great stories to tell and…everyone here is so friendly, and considerate, and sweet…"

Was he imagining the way her gaze lingered on him? Blackwall cleared his throat.

Rinn bit her lip. "Sorry, I trailed off…I just wish I could have had a few adventures of my own. I wanted to go to Orlais and Antiva; to climb a mountain and sail on the sea. When my mother died I had no choice but to stay and look after my father." She stopped herself and covered her face with her hands. "Maker, I'm sorry. I must sound so selfish to you, Blackwall," she groaned through her fingers.

Blackwall removed his gauntlets so as not to hurt her and gently took her hands in his. He hadn't touched her since that first day when they shook hands. Now his hands blanketed hers in a warm embrace, thumbs smoothing gently over her knuckles.

"You're young. You have plenty of time to go on adventures. When I return we could climb a mountain together, if you'd like. Or maybe head down to the Waking Sea."

Rinn frowned. "When you return?"

Blackwall nodded sadly. "The Inquisitor needs my assistance in Orlais. I'm afraid we will be gone for at least a week."

"A week?" Rinn exclaimed. "Ah, I mean…that's quite a long time. Who will keep me company during these long nights?"

He knew she meant during her shifts at the tavern, but his mind wandered to other things. Blackwall's face suddenly felt hot again.

"I…" he struggled to find words. Instead he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek.

He feared she would shudder or flinch away from his rough calloused hands but instead she leaned into his touch, letting her eyes drift close for a moment.

"I'll miss you too," she murmured, saying the words he couldn't.

"I hate to be the one to interrupt your moment, Warden, but we've got to go. Val Royeaux is waiting to be...well, inquisitioned," Varric said at the door of the tavern.

Blackwall cursed under his breath, making Rinn smile.

"I'll see you soon," he promised.

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.

It was a chaotic day at the tavern and Rinn couldn't seem to keep it together. She'd already messed up two orders and had nearly spilled wine on Madame de Fer.

Now that would not have gone over well, she shuddered.

Not to mention that strange boy had nearly scared her half to death when she found him in the kitchen stealing knives again. Rinn would need to talk to the Inquisitor soon. She kept putting it off and forgetting about it.

Rinn sighed, busying herself with putting clean glasses away. Blackwall was due to come back today. She was supposed to be floating on top of the world, but instead her stomach was in knots.

"What's going on with you, girlie?" Layla asked in that gentle, yet assertive way of hers. "Nervous about the return of your warden?" she teased.

"He's hardly my warden," Rinn laughed, but the thought made her heart soar. "I'm just anxious. Something feels wrong."

No sooner had the words left her lips did the door to the tavern swing open so forcefully that it hit the adjacent wall.

"Maker's breath," Layla started but was silenced by the young soldier who stormed into the tavern.

"Vivienne!" he called. "Your aid is needed. A man has been hurt."

The mage set her wineglass down and glided from her seat by the window. "Speak. Is it a soldier? Where is he?"

The boy shook his head. As if suddenly realizing who he was talking to, he looked much paler. "No m-Madame. It is the Grey Warden. The Inquisitor's party was ambushed by ogres on the path back from Val Royeaux. He's been taken to the infirmary. They're not sure he'll make it."

Rinn didn't hesitate. The glass she was holding dropped and shattered at her feet as she raced past them and out the door. Rinn kicked up dirt as she sprinted past the training yard and the merchants, ignoring the questioning looks of workers and soldiers as she passed. It was only when she was in the massive hold that she realized she had no idea where the infirmary even was. She'd only been inside a handful of times to use the library and talk with Josephine.

Rinn stood in the massive great hall, eying the different doors and staircases with apprehension.

"Damn it!" she cried. She headed for the closest door when a rush of footsteps filled her ears.

"You're going the wrong way!" A soft Orlesian voice called. Rinn looked up at Leliana, the Inquisition's spymaster as the woman descended a huge stone staircase. Rinn had never personally interacted with the woman, but she'd seen her about. Apparently the woman knew a great deal more about her. Well, she is a spy. "He's in the infirmary, up here."

Rinn didn't have time for pleasantries. "Thank you," she breathed as she pounded up the stairs past the hooded woman.

Hold on, Blackwall.

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Blackwall woke to the sound of hushed voices and a throbbing pain in his head. When the ogre grabbed him, he'd said his final prayers for forgiveness, expecting to die in its clutches. The Maker seemed to have other plans.

He opened his eyes to a small group of concerned faces. His eyes however, landed on only one.

"You're awake," Rinn breathed. She was kneeling at his bedside clutching his hand. A wide relieved smile appeared at her lips.

"Am I?" He murmured, rubbing his thumb in a smooth motion over her cool fingers. He made to sit up but winced as pain lanced through his side. Rinn looked concerned but Blackwall gave her a tight smile. Pain was good. It meant this was real.

"I hope you did not think we would let you get out of serving the Inquisition that easily, Blackwall," Cassadra teased, a rare smile on her lips.

"Just trying to make things interesting," he chuckled. "Are the Inquisitor and the others alright as well?"

"They're fine," Vivienne said. "I instructed everyone to go downstairs and give you space. As you can see, not everyone obeyed." Vivienne's words were sharp but her eyes soft as she glanced at the young woman holding his hand. "Your ribs are cracked but the gash in your head is healed. With more healing you will be back on your feet soon, Warden. For now, rest."

Blackwall waited until Vivienne and Cassandra had exited the infirmary before cupping Rinn's chin in his fingers. It hurt to raise his arm but it was worth it.

"How long have you been here?"

"Only a couple hours," she said shyly, looking down. "I was worried about you."

Her whisper reverberated through his body. He hadn't known what it was to be missed in years. Didn't think he would again. "Thank you for keeping an old man company," he murmured.

"You may have some years on me but you're hardly old, Blackwall. An old man couldn't have held off two ogres."

"Ah, but a few years ago I wouldn't have gotten myself shattered by one," he chuckled. He reluctantly moved his hand away from her face and patted the side of his bed. "Come up off the floor, lass."

She obliged, taking a seat on the edge of the hospital bed and letting her eyes roam to his bare, bandaged abdomen.

He was suddenly self-conscious. He was not like Iron Bull, strutting about in only his trousers everyday. Blackwall joked that it was because he was no peacock or show pony, but the truth was he was a bit old fashioned.

Surprisingly, Rinn reached out and ran her fingers softly down his chest. Blackwall nearly groaned at the touch.

"Is this okay? You're not in pain?" She whispered.

Far from it. In fact, the feel of her fingers running over the wide expanse of his chest made him forget about the throbbing soreness of his body, replacing it with a dull ache. Maker, he wanted her.

"No, I—I'm well," he said hoarsely.

Rinn brushed over a thin white scar close to the hollow of his throat. "What's this one from?"

"A bandit. His group thought they'd take advantage of a lone man. They were wrong," he chuckled, chest rumbling under her fingers.

"And this one?" Her fingers traced a wide red patch of flesh on his side.

"A rage demon. Bastard burned me good. Ruined my favorite armor too."

"And this?" She'd moved down to his arms now.

Blackwall considered it for a moment. "Hmm. Can't seem to remember. I've got more than I can count now."

Now it was her turn to chuckle. "Well, I'm sure whoever gave it to you quickly regretted it."

Blackwall grinned. "I don't doubt it, dear."

Rinn leaned closer and cupped his face in her hands, as he had her nearly two weeks ago. "I missed you," she sighed. "Did you miss me?"

"Every day."

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.

"This is…more challenging than I thought it would be," Rinn panted.

"Don't tell me you want to stop now," Blackwall laughed. "You're the one who suggested it."

She looked up ahead at him as they climbed the steep mountain path and let out a low sigh. He'd only been out of the infirmary for a week and he was making his way up the mountain at an alarming pace. If she weren't so determined to keep up she would have turned around ages ago.

As they made it to the top of the mountain however, Rinn's heart still in her chest.

"Maker," she mumbled. The view was amazing. Skyhold and all it's glory stood far below, surrounded by enormous snowy white mountains and endless sky. It was enough to make her forget about her sore feet and the cold nipping at her nose.

Blackwall smiled down at her. "Wasn't it worth it?"

"Yes," she breathed. "We need to go on adventures more often."

"Anytime." He curled his gloved hand around hers.

Rinn bit her lip. Since he'd returned from Orlais they'd shared soft gentle touches: pat on the shoulder; the squeeze of a hand; a light caress. It was sweet but safe.

Had she imagined the heat in his eyes when he'd stroked her cheek before leaving for Orlais? Was she the only one who felt fire in her heart when she ran her hands over his chest? Maybe he's not sure I feel the same way, she thought. Her lips curled into a frown. Or maybe he thinks I'm too naïve.

Only one way too find out.

Rinn plopped down onto the snowy mountaintop and dragged Blackwall down with her. They both new he was strong enough to stay standing, but he let himself grin and fall with her.

"Blackwall," she said with determination.

He raised a thick eyebrow in question.

"Do you…" Her cheeks were turning pink just thinking the words. He waited, brows still raised. Rinn summoned her courage. "Do you want me?"

"D-do I what?"

Maker, he looked so astonished. Did he have no idea what he did to her? Rinn sighed. Of course. He only saw her as a kindly barmaid, a treasured friend. She'd mixed all the signs. It wasn't the first time she'd done it, but this time it pained her.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered. "Forget I said anything. It was foolish of me to presume—"

She moved to stand but Blackwall caught her hand. "This is wrong. I…I'm not what you want. I could never be what you deserve."

Rinn couldn't breathe. She didn't understand. Her hands trembled as she took his hand in hers. "How can you believe that? There's nothing wrong in the way I feel about you. How...how I've felt about you since the day we met."

Only as she said the words did she realize it was true. He appeared so gruff at first, almost frightening. But the minute she spoke to him she knew she'd been wrong, and she couldn't stay away.

Rinn watched his resolve crumble before her as his free hand traced her face, thumb brushing against her bottom lip. "Maker knows I've tried, but I can't deny how I feel about you. I want you, Rinn. More than anything in this damn world."

The kiss was tender at first, his lips softly moving against hers. But as Blackwall's strong hands traced her back, Rinn melted against him, moving her hands over his broad shoulders to pull him closer. The move threw off their balance and he slipped, pinning her against the cold snowy ground.

Blackwall pulled away with a curse. "Now I've done it. You must be freezing."

Rinn laughed and pulled him back down by the collar of his coat. "Warm me up."

The man's eyes twinkled as he grinned. "Gladly."