SHADOWS & DAGGERS

A Rogue's Love Story

Chapter One

The Belle of the Ball

The Winter Palace

Halamshiral, Orlais

The music did not do justice to her surroundings. Although the ballroom was filled with polite conversation, Leliana could sense the chaos. The political discord of the Orlesian civil war neared its peak, ready to culminate in this very room. Despite the serious nature of the mission, she found herself revelling in the secrets that were revealed in each look and whisper. So many scandals in one room, accessible, waiting to be leveraged.

'Leliana.'

She turned from watching a couple across from her, disappointed that he interrupted her just as the argument was getting juicy. A handsome elf stopped beside her; his militaristic attire matched hers.

'Inquisitor,' she said, 'what have you learned?'

'Nothing more, but I'm yet to enter the Royal Wing. I bring some information from Bull.'

'Yes?'

'He's been watching a noble.'

'And?'

'He cannot get a read on her.'

Leliana glanced sideways. 'That is unusual for the Qunari.'

'He finds it quite suspicious. I thought it might be worth letting you know. You and Josephine have better connections here than we do, for obvious reasons. She entered the ballroom ahead of me. You'll see her,' he said, subtly bowing his head in her direction, 'she also dropped this.'

He passed Leliana a note sealed with a rich green wax. She tore the seal, quickly scanning the fine script. As she read, she felt her eyes grow wide.

'Hold onto this. Our options may be more flexible than we thought.'

Malakar nodded, tucking the note back into his jacket.

'I best move on. This party is beginning to get tense.'

'Of course,' Leliana said absently.

Leliana scanned the room, searching for a new noble among the crowd. Across the dance floor, she spotted a woman in a dark gown, her corset the colour of serpentstone. The green stood out among the pale gowns of the Orlesian women, shimmering as she wove between the other nobles. Eyes followed her as she passed, many peeking around their conversation partners to catch a glimpse at the woman in the striking gown. Unlike the men and women around her, though, she did not wear a mask.

Interesting.

Leliana kept her eye on the noble as she moved through the crowd, working her way around the dance floor. She stopped beside Josephine.

'Do you recognise the woman in the dark gown with the green corset?'

Josephine glanced through the crowd, easily spotting the striking dress.

'She is certainly eye catching. That gown is beautiful,' she said, arching a dark eyebrow, her interest obviously piqued, 'but no, I don't believe I have seen her before. Yvette?'

Her sister shook her head delicately. 'I do not recognise her either.'

'Then what is she doing here?'

'Enjoying the party?' Yvette said with a soft laugh, 'that is what most of us are here for, and the potential of a scandal, of course.'

'Yvette, you are not helping,' Josephine snapped softly, 'we know the names of everyone here. Except her.'

'We need to know who she is,' Leliana said, 'for all we know, she has a hand in this civil war.'

Leliana left Josephine's side, still watching, listening. The noble did not move from beside the balustrade. Her gaze remained on the dancers, a soft smile on her lips. Leliana understood why the Iron Bull had been so disconcerted: her face was in the open, unmasked, but the smile on her lips only concealed a blank canvas, no true hint of intent or emotion legible on her skin.

Leliana approached the Commander, delicately squeezing past a crowd of swooning women.

'Commander Cullen, a moment?'

'Of course,' he said before he excused himself from the throng, pulling at his collar, his eyes darting. He was clearly ruffled by the attention. 'Thank the Maker. These women are like rabid wolves. I have hardly enjoyed a moment of peace tonight.'

'Unfortunately, I am not here to save you from them, so much as to send you to the wolves, so to speak,' Leliana said, 'I need you to dance with someone.'

He baulked. 'What?'

Leliana subtly tilted her head. 'See the woman in the dark gown?'

Cullen glanced over to catch the colour but did not focus, still too stunned by Leliana's announcement.

'Yes, what of it?'

'I do not know her, and neither does Josephine. We have no idea who is orchestrating this assassination threat, so we need to know everyone here.'

He pursed his lips, unable to hide his frustration.

'Leliana, I have spent the entire night so far deflecting requests from these women. I do not dance. It is not part of the Templar repertoire,' he snapped tersely, 'besides, I am no good at this game. Why don't you dance with her?'

She sighed. 'Your loss, Commander.'

Leliana turned on her heel. He watched her leave, stunned by the exchange. He stepped towards the balustrade as Leliana approached the stranger in the dark gown, offering her hand for a dance. To his surprise, the woman accepted, allowing Leliana to lead her to the dance floor.

When his eyes fell upon her fully, he felt a flash of regret spark in his stomach. Dark curls framed her exquisite face, her high cheekbones softly dusted with powder to highlight them. When she smiled at Leliana with wicked red lips, he felt his stomach dip. Suddenly he wished he had been less hasty to refuse Leliana's suggestion.

Leliana watched the noble's face with curiosity as they danced, still searching for any hint of emotion to betray intent.

'We will create quite a scandal,' the woman said, 'the court will talk of nothing else for weeks.'

Leliana rolled the words in her mind. The woman spoke as if she savoured every word that her lips crafted. Her accent was polite and refined, but ambiguous; it lacked the lilt of the Orlesian court but was softer than the firm pronunciation found in the voices of Tevinter Altus' like Dorian.

'Let them talk,' Leliana said, 'their words do not hold my attention when compared to you. I must admit, my Lady, that your name escapes me.'

'That is because you do not know it, nor have you yet to convince me to give it.'

'I must work harder, then,' Leliana said as they twirled, 'to earn it.'

'And why do you wish to earn my name?'

'Such a beautiful face is worth remembering.'

'Then paint a picture in your mind,' she said, 'it will be all the sweeter to retain some mystery to this evening.'

'We face a civil war,' Leliana said, 'there is mystery enough in such turmoil. Would you deny me a beacon in the darkness?'

'Except even in uncertainty, there is no true mystery but for that which we allow to mystify us,' she said, 'there are decisions to be made tonight, and the wind will favour whom it deems worthy. It only appears to be a mystery to us now as we wait with bated breath, but future generations will look upon it with the hindsight, and it will appear obvious to them, as our acceptance of whatever fate the Maker writes should be to us.'

'So you will leave me to wallow in my uncertainty, my Lady?'

The song stopped, and they stepped apart. The stranger curtsied, her beautiful gown shimmering in the light of the ballroom. Leliana bowed.

'A name for my Lady Nightingale then, in exchange for such a wonderful dance. But only one. I will leave you to dwell on whether or not I give it honestly.'

'My Lady?'

'Valina.'

After a final illusive smile, Valina turned from her, moving up the steps and into the crowd once more. Leliana returned to Cullen's side. He cleared his throat, turning from the dance floor.

'She is impressive,' Leliana said, surprised to feel flustered. She flicked her fringe back from her face, her cheeks flushed. 'She only gave me one name: Valina. But she has a mastery over the game which would rival even the most skilled nobles in this room. It would not be a stretch to assume she is herself is from the nobility, although I could not tell you from where she hails.'

'Is she involved?'

'No. I did not get that feeling from her. She is an observer, interested in the results.'

'As are we.'

'As is everyone,' she said, glancing around, 'we can only hope that they are not bloody.'

Cullen watched Valina from across the room, feeling his stomach dip with regret once more.

'Can we learn more from her?'

'Perhaps,' Leliana admitted, glancing sideways at him as he shifted on his feet. His demeanour had changed since she returned. He had been irritated before, but now he was curious. Before Leliana could question him, he walked away, his gaze focused on Valina.

Cullen steeled himself, then eased his way through the crowd. He dodged the glances of women he had previously rejected, his steps nearly faltering as he neared her. He fidgeted with the wrist of his gloves and smoothed his jacket, wishing again that he had made time to have it taken out before the ball. He felt hot, the collar suddenly far too tight. He cleared his throat, then marched the last few steps.

'My Lady. May I have this dance?'

'Commander Cullen, is it?'

'Yes, my Lady.'

'I thought you didn't dance,' she said, a soft pout on her lips as she gazed up at him.

He felt a nervous smirk pull at his lips. 'You heard that?'

'I heard enough. Or, I read enough, I should say.' She glanced at his lips, and he felt his skin heat beneath her gaze. 'Your lips are very… expressive, Commander.'

'I admit that I have had to deny a few requests this evening, but you and Lady Nightingale have convinced me.'

'She is an exquisite dancer. I rather enjoyed her company. Perhaps she has stolen your chance, Commander?'

'Perhaps?'

His eyes darted down when he felt her hand on his chest. His muscles twitched beneath his coat as she smoothed the blue sash, her touch lingering.

'You may convince me yet, handsome.'

He opened his mouth but found no words. Her gaze captured him, her eyes a richer green than her gown, shining like two jewels among a hoard of treasure he wished desperately to take for his own.

'My Lady…'

A voice boomed at the other end of the ballroom, and he dragged his eyes away. The Inquisitor stood with Celene and Gaspard, the trio overlooking the dance floor. From their composure, clearly, the impasse was to end. In his distraction, she left his side, but when she slipped through the door, she looked back with a smirk on her lips.

'Goodbye, Commander Cullen.'

Skyhold, Inquisition Fortress

Frostback Mountains, border between Ferelden and Orlais

There had been little rest after the events at the Winter Palace; the return trip to Skyhold had been hasty. Cullen was weary, but they had yet to debrief and discuss the consequences of the alliance that had been formed, the end of the civil war.

Leliana followed closely behind him when he entered the war room, while Josephine and Malakar, the Inquisitor, were already waiting inside.

'What's our situation?' Leliana asked.

'The civil war is officially over, and the Orlesian court is stabilising,' Josephine said, reading some notes from her board, 'there are a few nobles that are holding out, but I have contacts who will persuade them to confirm their support for the Inquisition.'

'I want to send some scouts out to find Valina. She could be a valuable agent,' Leliana said.

'We have no idea who she is. Valina is probably an alias.'

'We need to make powerful allies, wherever we find them. This woman knew the workings of the court. She has contacts, and probably some very powerful information if it is used correctly.'

'How do we know she would be an ally?' Josephine asked, 'that is an assumption, and it could be a dangerous one.'

'Because she gave me one of the secrets of the court which we used to leverage the alliance.'

'While you danced?'

'No,' Malakar said, 'she dropped it when I followed her to the ballroom. She wanted us to have it.'

Josephine sighed. 'What do you think Cullen?'

He glanced up, shifting on his feet for a moment.

'Leliana's right. If she has information that can help us, then we should find her.'

'You're not answering out of a desire to see her again, are you, Commander?' Leliana asked, smirking sideways at him.

'Don't be daft.'

'You asked her for a dance, did you not?'

'I did, but it was in the hope that she might reveal more.'

'More what?'

He brought his hand up but dropped it in his frustration. 'Maker's breath… more information,' he said, 'but she left when the alliance was announced.'

'I'm sure you would have charmed her, Commander.'

'Can we move on?'

Josephine smiled at him but obliged.

'Well, I have heard of a Valina Voclain, but the Voclain family has rarely dabbled in court affairs in Orlais for the past three decades since the daughter's scandalous marriage to a Tevinter Altus.'

'This woman did not strike me as a mage,' Leliana said, 'her physique was more like a rogue.'

'Her physique?' Cullen asked.

'She was not overly tall, but she was strong. Her grip alone was enough of an indication that she has had duel weapon training. What did you think I meant?'

'Nothing,' he said quickly, 'I must just be tired.'

Leliana glanced sideways at him but did not comment. 'We've done all we can for the moment,' she said, 'I'll send out some scouts. I think we all need to rest.'

They filed out of the war room. Cullen returned to his quarters, thankful to be back in familiar surroundings. He went to his desk, standing over it for a moment. He leant on the heavy frame to scan the messages left during his absence from Skyhold. Finding nothing that could not wait until the morning, he went to his trunk. He was relieved to see that it had been carried up from the cart. He unpacked a few items to take them up the ladder to his room, not wanting to have to lug the whole trunk up. As he unfolded his formal attire, something fluttered to the stone floor. He glanced down at the black cloth, placing his jacket back in the trunk. He picked up the material. It was soft as silk, sliding against leather clad hands until he tightened his grip.

Gloves?

His mind flashed back to the Palace. Valina had worn a pair of short black gloves. Had she slipped them into his pocket when he had been distracted by the announcement? Or when she had been stroking his chest?

He felt his skin tingle at the memory and rubbed absently at the sensation.

A knock at one of the doors to his quarters interrupted his musings. He turned, hiding the gloves behind his back as the middle door swung open.

'I don't mean to intrude, Cullen. I know we just got back, but I desperately need a game of chess to clear my mind.'

'Dorian.'

The mage smiled at him, his moustache lifting. 'The one and only. Come, Commander. I dare say you need the distraction as well.'

Cullen gripped the gloves tighter, turning to grab the chess set from a shelf on the book case. He used the movement to disguise his hands, tucking the gloves into the waist of his pants.

'Indeed.'

They moved to their usual spot and set up the board. Cullen found it relaxing to play, the game reminding him of a quieter time when he would challenge his siblings, especially his sister. Dorian was a formidable adversary on the board, but the mage had proved to be a fierce ally to the Inquisition. As a Tevinter Altus, Cullen had questioned his presence at first, but the more time Dorian spent among the Inquisition, the more he proved himself loyal.

'Despite a few sideways glances from some Orlesians, I rather enjoyed the Ball. It was refreshing to get out of my utilitarian robes for an evening, at least, and immerse myself among the scandal of the court,' Dorian said as he made a move, 'I must say, though, the red is a bit striking. I suppose that was the idea: to be seen.'

'Our visual presence was necessary, just as much as our covert one.'

'Indeed,' Dorian said, smirking, 'I hear that Leliana caused quite a stir in the ballroom.'

'Mm?'

'And that you wish you had.'

Cullen looked up from the board, and Dorian quirked a dark eyebrow. His smirk seemed permanently branded on his lips, and Cullen feared the suggestive wiggle of the Tevinter's brows.

'It was purely to assist Inquisition enquires.'

'And my dance with Malakar was a test,' he said sarcastically.

There was that dreaded wiggle. Cullen looked down, pretending to focus intently on the board.

'Commander Cullen saw a pretty girl, and he liked her,' Dorian said, his mischievous stare burning holes in the top of Cullen's head, 'if the details that Leliana has given me aren't enough of an indication, the fact that you have her silk gloves tucked into your pants right now certainly gives you away.'

Cullen looked up, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. 'How do you–'

'I watch people, Commander,' he said, 'and you are an open book.' The mage shrugged, moving a knight. 'Plus, you're not as sneaky as you think you are, even in chess. Checkmate.'

Cullen examined the board. He was indeed trapped. Resigned to the loss, he leant back in his chair, his elbows propped on the arm rest, his fingers forming a steeple before his face.

'I… find myself thinking about her more than I should.'

Dorian watched him curiously.

'Why do you say that?'

'Because she's a stranger,' Cullen said, absently waving the words away, 'all we have is a name, and that's probably fake.'

'But she did help us.'

'It doesn't matter. We're at war, remember? I don't have time to– I won't allow myself to be infatuated with a stranger.'

'Allow?' Dorian said, the final hint of his smirk dropping, 'Cullen, you can pretend all you like, but that's a ridiculous notion, and you know it. You have every right to want something more than this blasted end of the world crap. I dare say we all seek comfort where we find it. I have been fortunate that I found it so near to me, if unexpectedly. No one can blame you for wanting your brief romance to blossom when faced with someone so intriguing, someone who obviously enjoyed your company, however brief it may have been.'

Cullen looked up, surprised to see how serious Dorian had become.

'How do you know that?'

'Well, she left you a token, did she not? Why else would she slip gloves into your coat, if not to give you something to remember her by?'

Cullen reached into the waist of his pants. He held the gloves before him, wishing his hands were bare so he could feel how soft they were. He glanced up at Dorian, and the mage smiled knowingly.

'This is irrational,' Cullen said, stuffing them back into his waistband, 'I cannot hope that I will see her again.'

Dorian went to speak, but movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked over, seeing the Inquisitor leaning against an archway. Malakar waited for him, a soft smile on the lips he knew so well.

'Sometimes, Commander,' Dorian said, 'hope is all we have.'

Although no words were uttered between the two mages, Cullen could sense the silent exchange. Dorian's usually hard brow relaxed. His eyes softened. When he smiled fully, he revealed the soft creases etched in his skin. A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, the calm that filled his heart written all over his face.

When Malakar turned to leave, Dorian rose absently. He glanced back at the board, offering a final smirk.

'We'll play again later, Commander,' he said, 'it seems that I am needed elsewhere.'

Cullen smiled, nodding. Dorian disappeared around the corner, and Cullen packed up the board slowly, the mage's words drifting through his mind as he stowed each piece. He reached back into his waistband, finding the gloves once more. He bit the finger of his leather glove, pulling one free from his hand. He smoothed the silken fabric with his thumb, and a sense of calm washed over him.

He could not deny that he had been lonely for months. The war was taking its toll, and his personal demons plagued him, louder with every day. For the hundredth time, he wished he had taken the chance to dance with her, even if only to have enjoyed her beautiful face a moment longer.

He picked up the chess set. The sky was beginning to darken, stars peeking from behind the soft clouds that rolled overhead. He slowed his steps, pausing to lean on the battlements and breathe in the crisp mountain air.

Dorian was right. Sometimes, hope was all they had. And that was enough, for now.

I hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter of Shadows & Daggers: A Rogue's Love Story.

New chapters will be posted every Monday.