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Title: Someone That Starts The Spark
Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Relationship(s)/Character(s): Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Lace Harding, Skinner
Rating: G
Word Count: ~900
Content Notes: none
Summary: Krem doesn't want to see anyone freeze.
Author's Notes: Written as a treat for Black Emporium Exchange 2016, for wyndx.

"Aw, another one? Come on, Skinner, you're killin' me." Krem tosses the practice shield aside in splinters. "The quartermaster already hates us."

"I'll talk to him," Skinner says.

"No, it's okay," he says quickly. "I'll go. You're… fine right there."

"I wouldn't have stabbed him," Krem hears Skinner say to Dalish as he heads up the steps to visit the quartermaster. He's too far to hear clearly now, but he thinks she adds a 'probably'.

Cassandra smiles at him when he walks by her in the upper courtyard. He flashes a winning one back, but his stomach twists uncomfortably. The Seeker is scary, even moreso now that she's learned his name and likes to pop up unexpectedly when he's training. She walks like a cat, if a cat was also a pillar of marble. Beautiful, unflinching, and tall.

Krem recalls a week or so back when he accidentally walked in on her and the Commander kissing in a quiet corner of the battlements, nearly hidden behind a parapet. If you can walk in on something that’s happening in a public place, anyway. He is fairly certain they hadn't noticed him given how quickly he wheeled around and bolted for the stairs, but just the thought of her cornering him and questioning him about what he saw gives Krem the chills.

"Ah, the Seeker," says a voice just behind him, knocking him out of his uncomfortable reminiscence. "She's quite the woman."

Scout Harding takes a few long steps to catch up with him.

"And then some," Krem agrees. He's had scant few chances to talk with Harding, in between everyone's time in the field. She spends the rare night in the tavern when she's back at Skyhold to resupply, but he always seems to be busy himself, training with the Chief or a drinking contest with Rocky, or heading to bed early because they’re heading out the next day. But he's been meaning to get to know her.

"Where are you headed today, Lieutenant?"

He glances sidelong at her, permitting himself a better look at all those freckles up close. His one weakness, he's always joked, but wow, she really is gorgeous. "Uh, the quartermaster, Scout Harding. And yourself? Off for another fine adventure?"

Harding laughs. "I wish. Headed to Emprise du Lion soon, and from what we're hearing, or… not hearing…. It'll be nice, though," she adds quickly. "After the Western Approach? I'll be glad to see some ice. And please, it's Lace."

Krem chuckles and decides to just go for it. "Lace, then. When are you headed out? I'd like to maybe buy you a drink in exchange for a story or two."

"Oh, I…" She blushes, drowning out the freckles in a sea of scarlet. Krem feels another flip in his stomach, both the same and totally different as the twist he feels when Cassandra smiles at him. "That would be amazing, but I've got to leave tonight. Sundown. Just getting a few last minute supplies," she says.

Krem opens the door to the quartermaster's room and holds it for her. She giggles -- actually giggles. Damn, Krem thinks. I'm going to spend a month pining all over again. Chief is going to roast me to pieces over this.

"Hello, Ser Morris!"

"Ah, Scout Harding! Cold weather gear today, is it? And, ah… Let me guess. Another dozen training dummies?" Ser Morris's tone definitely changes when he sees Krem (which is hardly fair, because Krem ruined only one of the last dummies, and what’s the point of dummies if not to be destroyed? Yes, those fire flasks had been overkill, but they know that now).

"Fire flasks, hmm? You mean Antivan fire?" Lace asks, fixing him with the smirk and her twinkling eyes.

"Kind of. Burns hotter though, cleaner. Rocky mixed them up."

Ser Morris sighs loudly and drops a sack on the table forcefully. "Your boots, Scout. And Lieutenant, what'll it be?"

Krem bends to pick up some of the papers that drifted to the floor in Morris's fit of displeasure . "Nothing today, I think I've found everything I needed for now. Lace," he says, offering his arm. She laughs again and takes it, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and waving him off when he offers to carry it.

"Thanks, Morris," she calls, not glancing back.

"I think I have time for that drink after all," she adds, bumping her shoulder into Krem's ribs. She doesn’t move back. Out in sun again, the colour of her eyes is breathtaking. Add that to all those freckles, he knows he's done for. "Only if you tell me about this extra hot fire, though. Might come in handy for me in Orlais."

"Absolutely. Can't have you freezing at night," Krem says, leading the way to the tavern.


A month later, camped out under yet another snow covered hill in the imposing shadow of some cursed tower, Skinner pokes Krem roughly in the shoulder on her way past. "Not in my good books," she warns him.

Krem waves her off and wraps his other arm a little tighter around Lace's shoulders. She huffs out a laugh that freezes, mists, and curls between them. "I'd be careful," she warns, when Skinner walks off to her tent, still muttering. "She's right, you know. Your fault the Chargers are out here." She tucks her head under Krem's chin.

"Well," says Krem, not for the first time, as he presses a kiss to her temple. "Couldn't have you freezing out here at night."
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