Hey, it's another collaboration between Revan's Mask and Rae D. Magdon. This one will probably be a bit longer than our last one. Enjoy!
Sera made her way through the ballroom of the Winter Palace, weaving through the gaps in the crowd. Even though she had just helped the Inquisitor stop an assassination attempt on Empress Celene, it wasn't difficult for her to remain unnoticed. She was only an elf as far as the rich sods were concerned, after all. As long as she averted her eyes, she blended right in with the servants in spite of her uniform.
It also helped that everyone's attention was still fixed on Empress Celene and Briala. They stood together on the balcony overlooking the dance floor together, a united front against Corypheus... and still as pompous as ever. Sera let out a short huff of annoyance through her nose as she made her way up the nearest set of stairs. She didn't have any patience for nobles and their problems, even when helping them benefitted her.
She found herself wandering over to a less-crowded portion of the ballroom, sticking to walls and dark corners. Although she didn't want to admit that she had a destination in mind, she couldn't deny that she was looking for Herah. The Inquisitor had disappeared after the start of the Empress's speech, and even though things were awkward between them, Sera felt the sudden desire to see her. They had almost died fighting Duchess Florianne. It only seemed right to check in.
You're a shit liar, she thought to herself as she began peering out the nearest windows, trying to see where Herah had gone. You don't like how you left things. Don't like how bad it's been since… since Adamant Fortress.
Being sucked into the Fade had changed everything. It was full of magic, demons, and monsters too large and dangerous for arrows to do any good. Full of things she didn't understand, and didn't want to understand crawling around in her head. Weeks later, she still couldn't get rid of the scratching of the demon's voice. And every time she looked at Herah, she remembered…
The sound of two people speaking just beyond an open doorway made her halt in her tracks. She tucked herself behind one of the tall blue doors on instinct, keeping the edge of her shoulder just out of sight and leaning forward to listen. One of the voices was familiar. Herah. Bright, cheerful, and surprisingly posh for a qunari. "Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan. We'll be glad of your help."
Another voice spoke, darker this time, like smoke from a dying fire. "A gracious response. I shall see you at Skyhold."
Morrigan swept out through the double doors, and though Sera scrunched up her face and shot her a disapproving look as she passed, it went unacknowledged. It was something that Sera already knew she hated about the woman: the way she acted as if everyone was beneath her. It was hardly the only thing though. There was also her stupid fancy dress, and her dumb mage job in Orlais, and, worst of all, the fact that Herah seemed to admire her.
Herah belonged to Sera. Well, okay, she didn't. Not really. But she definitely shouldn't be making eyes at some tall, dark, and slightly scary mage. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth as she walked out onto the balcony. She found Herah leaning against the railing, gazing out at the palace gardens where they'd been fighting for their lives only a little while earlier.
The way Herah looked in her uniform wasn't fair at all. The red doublet that emphasized her strong shoulders and full breasts. The extra inch the boots added to her already delicious height. The... oh, hell, all of it. Horns to toes, she was the best looking woman Sera had ever met, and the feelings that stirred up mixed with her apprehensions into a brew she couldn't figure out what to do with.
Herah turned to greet her, and the smile on her face made Sera temporarily forget she was supposed to be annoyed. "Quite a night, huh? We saved an empire and reunited wayward lovers, all before desert. We even picked up a new recruit. Celene is sending Morrigan to liaise with the Inquisition."
Bet that's not all she wants to liaise with, Sera thought. She shook her head. "Great. Another bloody mage. Thought we had enough of those already."
"Hey," Herah objected, a flash of real hurt appearing on her face. "I don't think we're as bad as all that."
Sera hesitated. Herah knew that she was uncomfortable around magic, but not just how on edge it had made her ever since Adamant. Sera wasn't sure how to tell her that. What had happened wasn't exactly her fault, even if it was her mark that had dragged all of them into the nightmare of the Fade.
At last, she settled on, "Well, at least you're not."
"Glad to hear it." Herah stepped away from the balcony and reached out a strong hand to Sera. "C'mon, you owe me a dance before the night's done."
She pulled back slightly. "Dance? Like with all the rich pricks watching us, and thinking we're dumb little people, 'cause we don't know any of their stupid waltzes and stuff?"
"Who cares what they think? We saved their empire tonight and now, I want to dance. They don't have to be here for that."
Sera took her hand, trying to suppress the conflicting emotions she felt. The thrill of their skin touching warred with her apprehension at being so vulnerable to Herah's magic. She had thought she could handle this. It was why she had started flirting after joining up with the Inquisition. Why she had even taken the chance to steal a few laughs and kisses when she could. But ever since the Fade, ever since she had seen what Herah was truly capable of...
Herah was anything but a little person. She was larger than life, and not just literally. Sometimes, it almost seemed as if she was fated to save Thedas with powers Sera couldn't begin to understand. Powers she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.
But then Herah's fingers laced with hers, turning their palms outward. A warm hand settled at her hip. Soft brown eyes stared down into hers, and her heart flew up into her throat. Sometimes, when she looked into those eyes, she was certain she saw more than just "The Inquisitor" there. She saw a person. A person she couldn't help admiring. Maybe even loving. A soft breeze swept through her hair, tickling the back of her neck, and it felt as if everything outside of Herah's arms was very far away.
"I'm not much of a dancer," Herah admitted as they started to sway back and forth. A few lines of music drifted in from the ballroom, but their bodies didn't keep time with it. They followed a rhythm all their own, moving in slow circles beneath the stars. "I've always been a bit clumsy, to be honest. When you're this size, you tend to bump in to things..."
"No excuses, Inky," Sera said. Her face softened a little as she caught a glimpse of the garden below. "Even the trees down there are dancing. Look."
Herah turned to look, and Sera felt a warm glow start in her chest when a smile spread across the qunari's face. "The garden does look much prettier when we aren't killing people in the flowerbeds, doesn't it? Hey, I think I see a few arrows sticking out of that tree over there..."
Sera scoffed. "'Are you trying to say I miss, Inky?" she said, pretending to pout. "Besides, you're not one to talk, yeah? Bet I can find a few scorch marks up in the branches. How d'you aim those fireballs anyway?"
Herah cleared her throat in embarrassment and turned her away from the garden with a surprisingly expert twirl. That left Sera with nothing to look at except for the Inquisitor's face. And despite her doubts, it was still one of the most beautiful sights she could imagine. On impulse, she used their laced fingers as leverage and pushed herself up, standing on tiptoe to reach Herah's lips. Herah bent the rest of the way down, and their mouths brushed together. Warmth blossomed across her face, spreading all the way out to the tips of her fingers and toes...
Sera, Sera, Sera... If you shoot an arrow at me, I'll know where you are...
Darkness. Nothingness. Scratchings in her head.
The Fade - Demons - Magic. Things she can't kill. Things she can't understand.
She pulled out of Herah's arms with a swift breath of fear, yanking her hand away and stumbling backwards. "I... I just need to... I can't..." She bit her tongue to stop her stammering, eyes darting from the garden to the ballroom. Neither seemed like a good escape route. And part of her still didn't want to escape. Herah had felt so good in her arms, pressed against her. So good until she remembered that the woman holding her was one of those things she didn't understand.
"Hey," Herah asked, her brows furrowing, "Did I do something wrong just now?"
"No, you didn't. I… I'm sorry, Inky. I'm just sorry."
Before Herah couldn't say anything in response, Sera spun around on her heels, running off of the balcony and taking refuge in the curious crowd that had gathered just outside. If only it were as easy to hide from her feelings.
"May I say what a pleasure it's been to meet a charming beauty such as yourself, Lady Pentaghast? It is my sincere hope that we may continue our conversation on some later, and more private, occasion."
Cassandra tried to avoid letting her annoyance show on her face. This was the third attempt at courtship she'd had to deal with that evening, and she suspected there would be more before the night was out. Being one of the only members of the Inquisition who was of noble birth made her far too enticing a target for every Orlesian looking to hitch their wagons to the new rising power in Thedas, and she was nowhere near as skilled as Josephine at dealing with the attention.
This latest suitor, with his nasal voice and overly elaborate manners, was especially irritating and she was trying to think of a reply that would get rid of the Marquis de Lockanne for good without causing an incident when she was preempted by the sound of another, huskier voice.
"She's not going to marry you, Marquis, so you might as well resume making drunken passes at the servants. At least they won't stab you through the bowels if you 'accidentally' grab their posteriors."
The Marquis turned around, audibly swallowing at the words. "Lady Morrigan. I'm not certain that I heard you correctly…"
"Yes, you did. Now leave. I have actual business to discuss with Lady Pentaghast and little enough patience."
The nobleman opened his mouth as if to say something, but a dark look from Morrigan made him think better of it. Instead, he slunk off with a final affected bow and a string of muttered pleasantries, leaving Cassandra alone with his tormentor.
"My thanks," she said to Morrigan. "What can I help you with?"
"Nothing in particular. I simply assumed you desired to be rid of the man, and I've been wanting to say something of the sort to him for a long time. He made a similar proposal to me when I first assumed my position at court, which might have been more flattering if it had not been directed at my chest."
It was, Cassandra had to admit, a very impressive chest, and one that was nicely displayed by the low-cut red gown the apostate wore. Before she could fall into the same trap that the Marquis had, however, Morrigan continued. "In any event, he will not be my problem for much longer. On Empress Celene's orders, I will be accompanying the Inquisition back to Skyhold when you depart."
Without meaning to, Cassandra let out a little snort. "So I have heard."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Morrigan asked her. "'Tis not as if my assistance is worthless. Your enemy is a master of ancient magics, and there are none who have delved deeper into such mysteries than I have."
"I've been told something along those lines," Cassandra said. "Among other things."
Morrigan raised an eyebrow. "Really? And who is it that has been offering these opinions of me?"
Cassandra clenched her fists. There was something about the entitled way the other woman asked her questions that set her nerves on edge. "Leliana," she replied curtly. "The two of you adventured together with the Hero of Ferelden, I believe."
Morrigan gave her an impassive nod. "We did, although Sister Leliana was never especially fond of me, even then. I would not trust everything she says."
Her gaze hardened, boring in on the apostate. "She says much the same about you. She claims that you never join a cause without an agenda of your own. See to it that whatever yours is in this case, it doesn't cause the Inquisition any trouble."
Only the subtle narrowing of Morrigan's eyes gave the impression that she was annoyed by the unflattering judgment. Her full lips pressed into a thin line, and the pulse at the base of her pale throat sped up ever so slightly. "The only way you will find yourself in trouble, Lady Pentaghast, is if you make yourself an inconvenience to me. I understand your mistrust. I'm sure I would feel the same in your position. But I do not suffer fools gladly, and it would be foolish of you to anger one of the only mages in Thedas capable of offering you the assistance you so desperately need."
Although the comment made her bristle, Cassandra had to admit that Morrigan made a good point. The Inquisition needed allies, not enemies. And she suspected that Morrigan would be an incredibly dangerous enemy to have. She sighed, dipping her head in a small attempt at reconciliation. "Of course. I'll see to it that Lady Montilyet prepares for your arrival at Skyhold. The Inquisitor often forgets to take care of such simple tasks. Not that I can blame her. There is a war in progress, after all."
Morrigan's smile returned, although it was anything but friendly. "Yes. And I suspect it is far more interesting than the banal conflicts Thedas so often finds itself wrapped up in. Never fear. I have no desire to see my home destroyed. I will offer what aid I can - and that aid is considerable."
Before Cassandra could respond, Morrigan swept past her, offering a teasing glimpse of the bare flesh beneath the nape of her neck. Apparently, her dress scooped low on both sides. "I'm certain I will see you at Skyhold. Hopefully our next meeting will be more cordial. I can be friendly, if I wish. Until next time."
Cassandra continued staring long after Morrigan had disappeared into the crowd. Instead of reassuring her, their brief conversation had only managed to convince her that Leliana's judgment was right. Although Morrigan could certainly prove to be a powerful ally, she was also someone Cassandra would keep a careful eye on.