This shameless little blurb was inspired by the fact that you cannot take falling damage around Skyhold, no matter how high you jump from. I abuse this. And I imagine anyone who watches my character do it thinks they're suicidal.

Also - blatant cameos. Yay!

Fear not: I haven't abandoned "United We Stand, Divided We Fall" (far from it) and am working on the next chapter at present.

Enjoy!

Skyhold's massive size could prove detrimental in some unique circumstances, Cullen mused, and finding anyone around the grounds appeared to be one of those circumstances. In his search for Dorian in Skyhold's tavern – he needed to extract a promise from the man – he came across four familiar faces sitting at a table. Shesi Mahariel, her chin-length brown hair braided in several places and sporting a twig, nursed what looked to be a mug of mead; she sat next to that strange elven assassin Zevran Arainai, who looked up at Cullen and winked. Odd. River Hawke sat at the end of the table with her boots on the surface, and a tanned elf man with white hair sat next to her with a bored frown on his face. Fenris, Cullen recalled.

The Inquisition had drawn many familiar faces. Despite Varric's initial subterfuge, Cullen had to be grateful to him for bringing the Champion of Kirkwall to Skyhold. Shesi and Zevran had arrived not long after, saying they wanted to join the efforts to look for who Thedas considered the Hero of Ferelden. Weeks had passed, and they hadn't left; Cullen couldn't be upset about that fact. There was always a use for skilled rogues like Shesi, River, and Zevran, and warriors like Fenris.

"Morning, commander," Shesi greeted.

"Riddle me this, Cullen," River said, leaning her chair back on two legs. Fenris looked over and twitched his hand, as if expecting her chair to slip and dump her backwards on the floor. "Have you noticed this place is swimming in pretty elves? It's full of them. I think I'll never leave."

Yes, Cullen had noticed – a certain Nanyehi Lavellan came to mind – but he just cleared his throat awkwardly and managed a bit of a nod.

"Please refrain from calling me pretty," Fenris said.

"Call me pretty all you like," Zevran said with a chuckle, resting one russet arm around Shesi's slight shoulders.

"Ahem," Cullen said. "Have any of you seen Dorian anywhere? I've been looking for him."

"Dorian, Dorian, Dorian," Zevran said, rolling his eyes skyward in thought. "Ah, yes. The handsome mage."

"I can practically hear you fantasizing," Shesi quipped.

"Last I saw him, he was in the library above the main hall," River said. "Speaking of elves… Have you noticed our Lady Inquisitor's recent habit? I couldn't make a flying leap off the tavern roof like that. Her legs must be stronger than they look, because they look like sticks."

Again? Maker's breath. Speaking to Dorian seemed even more urgent now.

Both Nanyehi – the Inquisitor herself – and her brother Finirial more closely resembled twigs than people. Way more so than the elves in front of him now; Zevran and Fenris were decently muscular for elven men, and though Shesi had a small build, she seemed toughly made. Not that he doubted the Lavellans' strength; Nanyehi's skill with a bow was unparalleled, and Finirial's Dalish magic garnered plenty of healthy respect. He did, however, doubt that Nanyehi could keep free-climbing recklessly about Skyhold without eventually breaking a bone.

"I have indeed noticed," he said. He took a step backwards and nodded politely. "I'll look for Dorian in the library. Good day."

"As you were," Shesi said.

River, Zevran, and Fenris offered vastly different forms of farewells, and Cullen left the tavern.

The main hall was only a short walk away from the tavern. Cullen enjoyed the crisp mountain breeze that ruffled his flaxen hair as he strode over, glancing idly at Cassandra as she repeatedly whacked Iron Bull in the gut with a long stick. Deciding not to question it, he strode into the main hall and jogged up the stairs, finding his way up to the library.

"Ah, Cullen," Dorian greeted, setting a tome back on the shelf. "Come for a second try at chess? I'd promise to go easy, but I'd be lying."

"Not today," Cullen said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword and leaning against a shelf.

"A pity," Dorian said. "Is there something you needed?"

"I, uh…there is," Cullen said, annoyed that he had already started stuttering. Maker, he hadn't even mentioned Nanyehi yet; would this ever get more familiar? "You travel with the Inquisitor a great deal. She even called you her best friend, if I recall."

"Yes, indeed," Dorian said. He quirked a half-smile. "I would call her the same."

Cullen had been about to mention Finirial Lavellan, wondering why Dorian would reserve the title of "best" for Nanyehi, but he remembered Dorian and Finirial had something entirely other than just friendship going on.

"I have a favor to ask of you, then," Cullen said. "Recently Na – the Inquisitor has been jumping about Skyhold like she's trying to kill herself. At least here she has plenty of resources if she happened to break a bone, but out on the road… Man to man, would you keep an eye on her? Talk her out of leaping off any cliffs? It's driving me positively insane."

Dorian burst into laughter.

"Ah, Cullen," he said, chuckling to himself and regaining his composure. "Did you know her brother does precisely the same thing? Rushes about the hold like a damn mountain goat. I've tried to convince him not to risk his life so, but if I can't even sway Finn, then I doubt Nanyehi will listen to me."

Cullen would not let himself be easily deterred.

"She regards you highly," he tried. "She'd brush off my warnings as…concern, but she might listen to you. If you could at least attempt it? Even if you just toss her over your shoulder when she looks like she's about to jump. I'd be grateful."

"You have a right to worry," Dorian said with a smirk. "She has a nasty habit of sliding down cliff walls because she's too impatient to take the road. Wore a hole in her breeches the other day. She's lucky Cassandra and I found an old house to hide her in before Iron Bull noticed the rip. Not that he would do anything, but…well."

Maker. Cullen could have lived without knowing that.

"Nevertheless," Dorian said, "I'll keep an eye on her. Do expect me to cash in on the return favor, though. I might ask you to speak to Finn about this matter."

"I can manage that," Cullen said.

"And Cullen?" Dorian said. "I think she'd listen to you. Give it a try."

Nanyehi hadn't seen Cullen in a little while, so she trotted up the stairs to the ramparts, feeling the wind batter against her slight form as she made her way to his office and slipped inside. He wasn't here; she pouted and sat down on the surface of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge.

She combed her fingers through her long cabernet hair as she waited. Often when she looked at her hair she'd wonder what strange circumstance had given her older brother his frosty white hair, although they both had similar aqua-hued eyes.

And they both, apparently, were attracted to shemlen men.

She smiled at the thought of her brother, vowing to catch up with him once she'd spent a little time with Cullen.

She heard boots on the stone outside the door, and she refused to admit her heart fluttered when Cullen strode into the room, noticed her, and cracked a soft smile.

"I thought I'd visit you in your lonely little hermit-hole up here," she said. "How are things?"

"Interesting," he answered, crossing over to her and leaning one hand on the desk next to her. "You aren't sitting on any important papers, are you?"

"If I am, I'm sure they're enjoying it," she said.

She noticed the slightest redness creep onto Cullen's ears, and he coughed, briefly looking away.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," he said, looking uncomfortable. "I understand it's…exhilarating…to feel the wind in your hair and all that, but please try to refrain from jumping off high ledges. I'm – a lot of people here are worried for your safety. It's too reckless."

"But it doesn't hurt," she insisted, hopping off the desk and looking up at him. "Finn discovered this a few weeks ago. It might have something to do with the old magic surrounding Skyhold, but for some reason, things don't do as much damage to our bodies. I think this area was originally elven or something."

"That sounds like hogwash," he said, frowning.

"I'll show you," she said, charging out the door and to the edge of the ramparts.

"No!" Cullen yelled from behind her.

A second later she felt strong arms grip her from behind and physically haul her off her feet only inches from the low stone wall at the edge of the ramparts. She hung there, her feet dangling, her back pressed against him, and waited for him to set her down.

"You'll believe in the Inquisition, you'll believe a Dalish savage can lead armies across Thedas, but you can't take my word that there's some old protective wards around Skyhold?" she protested.

He finally bent to set her down, taking her by the shoulders and spinning her to face him.

"I will always believe in you, Nanyehi," he said, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "But I'd prefer not to watch you fling yourself off the ramparts and hope I don't – " He stopped himself, his eyes full of something Nanyehi couldn't read.

"Hope you don't what?" she asked.

"Hope whatever magic you claim is here doesn't fail," he said. "Hope I don't lose you."

"Now," she said, smiling, "did my ears fail me, or did I hear you say "I" in there? Because ears this big don't miss things that often, and I don't think you were speaking on behalf of the entire Inquisition – "

She didn't finish. Instead she made a muffled noise of surprise when Cullen pinned her gently against the stone wall, leaned down, and firmly pressed his mouth to hers. She blinked, then remembered to close her eyes.

"This," he said after a long moment, looking down at her, "is an acceptable thing to be doing on a ledge."

"I'll trade it for jumping," she said with a smirk, raking her fingers through his hair and pulling him back down.