The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts, some figures and instructions for dancing

But I,

I love it when you read to me.

And you,

You can read me anything.

The book of love has music in it,

In fact that's where music comes from.

Some of it is just transcendental,

Some of it is just really dumb.

But I,

I love it when you sing to me.

And you,

You can sing me anything.

The book of love is long and boring,

And written very long ago.

It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes,

And things we're all too young to know.

But I,

I love it when you give me things.

And you,

You ought to give me wedding rings.

The Book of Love ~ The Magnetic Fields

"Again," Adan insisted.

Ava pressed the book against her chest and began reciting the long and complex order of ingredients of a burn-treating maceration recipe.

"You inverted the order of the last four," he told her, pouring hot water into two cups.

"Does it really matter?"

"Absolutely not," he said. She braced herself. She knew that tone. "Unless you are the patient with a bad burn expecting a proper maceration to ease the pain, but end up with a delightful cough syrup instead."

She sighed.

"I am merely trying to help," he stated calmly, stirring a pinch of herbs into the cups.

"I am so exhausted," she confessed, slamming the book cover shut and slumping into her chair.

She heard his footsteps towards her. He handed her a cup of tea and took his seat next to her. Summer was almost gone, she noted. A slight chill was in the air and they had lit the first fire of the new, incoming season.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know…I have never met anyone who dared to undertake both apothecary and medical studies at once," he teased her, taking a sip from his cup. "It's quite mad, if you ask me."

She watched him, taking in his serene countenance, his fine scholar's hands. It never ceased to amaze her that he could quiz and test her without ever having to refer to any of the texts. Mullins was constantly testing her on her readings, but needed to verify the tomes as she did so. Adan appeared to know everything inherently, naturally.

"In my defense, I was quite mad at the time. I was heartbroken over this daft alchemist and sought to drown my misery in the study of matters of consequence," she declared, anticipating his reaction.

He almost spat out his tea, but his expression softened. He sought out her hand and entwined his fingers between hers.

"I don't know who was the bigger fool: you, committing to your inane studies, or me, signing up for an assignment in the Western Approach," he grinned.

"You," she deadpanned. "Apparently, asking out the woman you fancy is more frightening than the prospect of being poisoned and digested by sulfuric springs while gnawed at by varghests," she scolded him playfully.

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

"Don't forget 'impaled by quillbacks.' Those were quite nasty," he grimaced.

"You are fortunate I allowed you back in here after all that," she told him, with mock indignation. "Otherwise you'd still be bunking in the barracks."

He arched an eyebrow.

"Hardly! I have been reinstated as Skyhold's Head Apothecary and as such, can dispose of the dispensary however I see fit," he explained with a sly grin. "Technically, I am the one who allows you to live here."

"Technically, I am the one who allows you in my bed," she said bluntly.

It gave her a twinge of pleasure to see him turn so red. She burst into laughter, giving in to the urge to embrace him. She felt his hands caress her back as she rested her forehead against his.

"Speaking of bed, I am turning in," she announced. She tilted her head closer and they kissed, a kiss that hinted at their desire. "Come up soon?" she asked, rising from her chair and tugging his arm gently.

"I will, he said affectionately. "Go ahead—I'll be right up. I'll finish my tea and tidy up down here."

He watched her make her way up the steps, a warm emotion overwhelming him. He stared into the fire, swirling the dregs of his tea around the cup's bottom, lost in pleasant thoughts.

He did not startle when he saw the young man in threadbare clothes and a humongous hat appear in the seat beside him. He stared at the young man and noticed he was smiling approvingly at him.

"Yes! Do it. Ask her tonight," the young man whispered encouragingly. "She will say yes."

A/N: Thank you so much. This has been such a great experience and I've appreciated everything- the comments, PMs, Favorites and Follows. I've enjoyed the exchanges I've had with many of you, and I need to send a huge thank you and shout-out to Winterbourne, who not only has been so amazingly supportive and kind, but has become a friend between so many exchanged reviews and putting up (and even encouraging) my kooky PMs. She has inspired me with her excellent and gorgeous writing. She set the standard- I just try to keep up!

I started this on a whim, determined to tell the story of a young man whose personal quest was so poignant and rich. For the record, I like that both choices are "good" ones. It's up to Cole to make the best of it, right? Also, I don't think that Cole is for an instant less caring or loving in spirit form. I strongly suspect the authors who wrote Cole's part in Inquisition were inspired by the depiction of these angels, from two movies by Wim Wenders, "Wings of Desire" and "Far Away-So Close!" If you'd like, Google a scene (search for "Wings of Desire subway scene") that shows one of the angels, Damiel, wandering through Berlin and listening to people's thoughts...and offering them courage, like someone else we know...If you know the movie, you might find my comparison ironic, but I think Cole in this case would be more like Cassiel, who tears through his own version of the Fade because he wishes to prevent a tragedy. I think, like Damiel and Cassiel, Cole loves deeply, non-judgmentally, and selflessly.

I like to believe Cole is something of an angel. ;-)

Be well! And thank you, again!

Exeunt.