The corresponding author's note that no one asked for: So I needed to give some props for my sister because I didn't pass high school English by myself. Also, I should point out that I obviously don't own the Dragon Age series otherwise my beautiful bard would always be an available companion.
The party was in full swing. All the guests had been announced; the members of the Inquisition had arrived and had been well dressed thanks to a charismatic (and conniving) ambassador. There was Orlesians of all types twirling across the dance floor or standing around the refreshment table gossiping about the fashion choices among the guests present.
Herah Adaar, however, was standing off to the side trying to figure out how to walk in her dress so she could join Sera and Iron Bull in their contest to see who could fit the most chocolate in their mouth. She finally just huffed and gave up telling herself it wasn't worth it. Likely Josephine would pause in her mischievous Orlesian 'court games' to give her a lecture on how to eat like a lady and then yell at her about the chocolate she would inevitably get on her dress. It was a nice dress and it looked good on her. The seamstress had done a flawless job, even with all of Herah's whining that no dress will ever look as good as pants feel. Herah decided that it was best to find a seat until enough time had passed that it would be polite enough to leave and scanned the courtyard.
The party, true to the Orlesian way, was decorated quite ostentatiously and in the brightest color scheme Herah had ever seen. Sera had described it as "rainbow puke". Brilliant multi-colored lights boxed in the party, strung around lamp posts, pillars, and the pavilions that towered both ends of the court yard. It was while following a trail of lights that Herah spotted Leliana standing in the pavilion scanning the party for-well, if Herah had to guess, she was probably looking for anything vaguely threatening.
Herah's blood rushed to her cheeks at the memory of Sera catching her checking out Leliana earlier that day. Sera, of course, just smirked and commented, "She looks nice, and her dress is a lot less stupid than what some of these piss-bags are wearing, innit?" Leliana's dress was a lot less complicated than Herah's. 'And probably easier to take off' She thought before she could stop herself. Herah shook the thought away and glanced at Leliana once more only to be met with a glare-'wait...was she glaring at me' Herah worried. She shifted her gaze, and after gulping in a deep breath, brought her gaze back to Leliana's face. However, Leliana's glare was still there cutting right through her like a knife. 'Almost as if she's glaring behind me.' Herah speculated. Fingers crossed, Herah turned her head hoping Leliana's ire was not meant for her. Herah let out a relieved sigh when she spotted Lord Bellemont behind her (or Lord Bananaloaf as Sera dubbed him when he arrived).
Herah's relief was short lived when, upon further inspection, she noticed why Leliana was glaring at him. He was shamelessly staring at her chest. Herah crossed her arms in a futile attempt to cover her ample bosom, instead only succeeding in making it more pronounced. Anxious and uncomfortable Herah dropped her arms to her side and looked back at where Leliana was to plead for help only to find that the spymaster had vanished. Damn. She clenched her teeth deciding that the best course of action was to intimidate him like she did with other gawkers and miscreants during her time as a Tal Vashoth. She squared her shoulders and turned to him only to find that Leliana had joined them.
Leliana's hand was on his shoulder and judging by the look on his face it wasn't exactly 'resting', though that look could also be contributed to the threat that Leliana was whispering to him. "Leliana." Herah greeted amused. Leliana released the Orlesian noble who walked with a fast pace to the refreshment table (no doubt to lick his wounds). "Inquisitor." Leliana greeted bowing her head and turned to walk back to her lookout position but was stopped by a gentle hand on her arm. "Inquisitor?" Leliana questioned. Herah's lips twitched in a small smile before holding out her hand. "May I have this dance?" She asked.
Leliana hesitated, a confused expression, "Um...y-yes. Of course Lady Herald." she stumbled and then huffed. "Herah." The Qunari insisted with a shy smile. Leliana smiled back, "Of course, Herah." With concentrated grace and a slight stumble Herah lead Leliana to the dance floor. No one noticed the small elf carrying a jar of honey or the large Qunari holding a beehive heading in the direction of the carriages.