A/N: Happy 2019, ya'all!
This is the tenth fic in my Twelve Days of Christmas jamboree. This ficlet is the second part of a two-shot, preceded by yesterday's part nine fic. If you choose to read other parts of this series, keep in mind that none of them technically need to be read in order with the exception of these two fics.
IMPORTANT NOTES
This story is part of a Christmas present for AuroraBorealia, my fabulous bestie and beta reader! It is part of a crazy headcanon that features her Trevelyan Inquisitor, Rowan, my Trevelyan Inquisitor Azur (as Rowan's cousin), a cute and tiny OC named Margot, and Neville Longbottom. Yes, I said Neville Longbottom. From Harry Potter.
If you are interested in knowing how on earth (or Thedas) this all connects, I will likely be publishing two explanatory fics sometime soon. If not, this is a highly-tailored fic, so read at your own risk (of extreme confusion).
Tags: 12 Days of Christmas, Lords a'Leaping, Trevelyan/Cullen, Dorian/OC, Sera/Dagna.
Enjoy, friends!
On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
Ten lords a'leaping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a'milking
Seven swans a'swimming
Six geese a'laying
Five golden rings...
Four colly birds,
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree
The dreaded day had finally arrived: Dorian and Azur's wedding dress rehearsal.
For those of Skyhold's inhabitants who were less-than-coordinated on the dance floor, a lot was riding on today. Shortly after Josephine and Vivienne held their dance lessons for the ladies, Dorian and Neville tutored the gentlemen. A few of them had complained about being taught to dance in Ferelden by two foreigners. C'mon, Neville didn't even go here!
It was unanimously decided that the ladies had a less disastrous session overall, if only due to The Iron Bull's constant crude jokes about the wedding night coupled with the fact that Dagna had inadvertently reigned in Sera's usual behavior.
But for two of their subjects, Josephine worried the most: Azur and Rowan. For all the cousins' grace on the battlefield, it seemed that nervousness on the dance floor ran in the Trevelyan line. She could see it in their movements, their lack of flow; they had the moves, not the nuance.
In Rowan's case, it simply would not do to show poor form at such an important social function, particularly one hosted by the Inquisition and attended by several influential nobles. In Azur's case, this was to be his special day, and Josephine hoped that with just a little more private training, he would wow everyone and give Dorian a night he would certainly never forget.
To this task she entrusted Neville. The friendly phytophile had shown an unexpected talent for dance, which he had apparently learned back in his world at a school for young mages. He had become a dear friend to Josephine and never ceased to amaze her with his unique quirks.
Neville, in turn, was good friends with Rowan, Dorian, and Azur. He was more than happy to help, suggesting a lesson before the dress rehearsal.
"You're not even trying!" Josephine snapped. Azur had the grace to look slightly guilty, but his focus was miles away.
When it seemed hopeless that the cousins would improve any further before the rehearsal, an idea popped into Josephine's head. "I propose a bet," she suggested innocently.
"Oh dear," Rowan said, covering her mouth with one hand. Azur and Neville looked at each other and at the Inquisitor, both of them confused. "You've never played Wicked Grace against Josie, have you?"
Josephine's grin was sharp and cat-like. "We need to offer you both some incentive for tonight's performance. You will do both the waltz and the circle dances without slipping up even once. And Azur, during the first dance, you will lead for tonight."
The redheaded mage grimaced. "But-Dorian's better at that part and I…"
"If you succeed, you will be allowed to demand a favor of us. Anything you want."
Smiling for the first time in hours, Azur flexed upward on the balls of his feet. "Perhaps we should let Margot decide! I may know of something interesting she would like to do," he added slyly. He must have missed Rowan face-palming in the corner.
"Fair enough-if you lose, your punishment shall be the same. I hope your young friend will not make you do anything too embarrassing."
"What have you done?" Rowan groaned.
"More importantly," Josephine pressed on, ignoring the Inquisitor's complaints, "I dearly hope that both of you make a real effort to win." With that, she pivoted on her heel and left the room with (completely and totally justifiable) dramatic flair.
Neville blinked at the place where she had just stood and then at his two dancing pupils. "Do I get a say in this?"
Rowan shook her head. It was going to be a long night.
They tried, they really did. Rowan made it through her waltz with Cullen without a single blip, and as far as she could tell, Azur appeared to be doing well. She was too distracted to keep an eye on him once the circle dance began. That was when she nearly knocked over all the other dancers in the circle via domino effect. She grimaced; there was no chance in hell that Josie didn't notice.
Afterwards, Josephine gathered Margot, Neville, and her two favorite Trevelyans at the edge of the hall. Cullen threw a supportive glace Rowan's way just before he was swept out of the room by his tipsy comrades, but nothing could soften the blow that was Josephine's disappointed face.
"I had higher hopes, particularly for you, Inquisitor."
"I know," Rowan answered miserably. "I'm sorry. I just sort of lost my footing."
Josephine sighed. "I would normally never recommend this, but… perhaps it would be best that you partake in the wine before the reception tomorrow. It will help you relax."
Yes, that's just what she needed: to get drunk and make a complete fool of herself.
"You," Josephine accused the groom-to-be, "didn't even listen to my instructions."
Azur spluttered and pulled on his ponytail. He always did that when he got nervous. "I didn't mean to! Dorian just sort of started leading."
"C'mon, Josie. That wasn't his fault," Neville said gently, but Josephine waved him aside.
"That doesn't even cover the incident when he bumped into Leliana and spilled wine down her tunic."
Azur's silent look of panic said that he had definitely not counted on her noticing that bit.
"She sees everything," Margot stage-whispered unhelpfully.
"Alright, what would you have us do?" Rowan asked, resigned to her fate.
The young, roguish mage grinned with glee. "Nothing too bad, I promise. Hmm. I want you both... to wear your hair down for the wedding tomorrow!"
Rowan's first instinct was to stare at her in shock. That was, until she figured out who had put Margot up to this. Reaching out to her left, she gripped her cousin's shoulder and murmured, "Unfortunately, I'm going to have to make you a widower before you even marry him."
Azur didn't appear to have processed her dark humor. His face was paler than normal, making his freckles stand out in stark, blotchy patches across his cheekbones. "But-Cassandra and I already picked out a hairstyle. She said she would do it for me tomorrow."
"You struck a bargain," Josephine reminded him sternly. "The price is more than fair. Perhaps letting your hair down will help you relax, both of you. You're so uptight all the time; this is a joyful occasion and you need to treat it as such. With dignity and decorum. And-"
All of a sudden, they were short one groom. Azur had fled the room in a blur of red hair.
Neville fretted, fiddling with his sleeves. "Josie, maybe this was a bit harsh. He's under a lot of pressure as it is."
Tears formed in little Margot's eyes. "I didn't mean to make him so upset!" Rowan hugged and soothed her, running her fingers through the girl's dirty blonde locks. "Do-do you think he hates me now?"
"No, not at all sweetheart," Rowan assured her. "Neville's right, he's just a little overwhelmed, that's all. I'll go talk to him and we'll make things all better by tomorrow, alright?"
Josephine gave Margot a hug as well. "Perhaps I did get carried away," she admitted guiltily.
"You were only trying to help," Neville reasoned.
"Everything will be fine," Rowan told them. She could only hope her words were true.
The Inquisitor traversed the castle until she reached Azur's living quarters. They were sparse, seeing as he had already moved most of his belongings into Dorian's rooms. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, holding a down pillow that his uncle-Rowan's father-had given to him.
"'Zur?" she called out softly, willing to walk away if he truly needed some alone time.
"Hey."
She took his following silence as an invitation to enter and settled next to him. "Hey. What happened back there?"
Azur let out a long exhale. "I just-I want to marry Dorian, of course I do. But why does it have to be like this, with everyone staring at us? You know some of them will make a mockery of us; I don't even know why Josephine let us host it so publically."
Rowan paused and gave her cousin a chance to vent.
"And then with the hair thing. It's not a big deal, really, except that Cassandra went through all the trouble of styling it so that it wouldn't be in my face during the dance. Not to mention, if I wear it down, Mother will tell me I look like a girl. Maybe she'll even ask why I'm not wearing a dress."
"She won't," Rowan countered, "and even if she did, you could simply tell her that tailored trousers and long coattails are much more in fashion, as opposed to gaudy gowns fit for funerals. That would shut her up quick."
Azur guffawed. "She really does look rather like an old buzzard, doesn't she?"
"Mm. Neville says his grandmother dresses the same."
Taking the opportunity to address the bigger issues here, Rowan rubbed small, soothing circles on her cousin's back, the way her mother did for them when they were children. "You don't have to do this. I'm sure Dorian would understand if you wanted a different venue, or less pressure in general about the whole thing. For Andraste's sake, it's your wedding day!"
"No, it's not that. I do want to get married tomorrow, just as we planned. I don't have a single doubt about my decision to be with Dorian; I think it's all just nerves talking."
Rowan nodded. "Then it's going to be wonderful. I dare say, even fun. We shouldn't have let Josie push us into this, but I get what she was trying to do."
Smiling serenely, Rowan stood and held her hand out to Azur. "Let's practice, just you and me. That way, you can lead and we'll both be in better shape for tomorrow."
They danced until their feet were sore, perhaps not the best idea. Rowan hadn't laughed so hard in ages. It was nice, spending time with her cousin like this.
When they readied to bid each other goodnight, the Inquisitor asked Azur once more how he was feeling. "Good," he answered. "Much better. You were right. It is my wedding, and I'm going to sweep Dorian off his feet tomorrow. He won't know what hit him!"
Laughter bubbled up in Rowan's mouth. "I'm glad."
"Hey, Ro."
"Yeah?"
"I know you're still undecided about Andraste. Whether she chose you, or if she even exists. Well, Herald or not, you've always been my hero."
Rowan's eyes softened. "Oh, Azur."
"You're always there for me, no matter what, and you always know what to say. You keep the spirits of everyone here high in indescribable little ways. One of the best parts of joining the Inquisition has been spending more time with you. I just wanted to let you know that."
The Inquisitor wasn't crying, nooo. The strange human controlling her actions and words from a random screen somewhere was crying. Yep.
They both hugged one another once more. "No matter where you and Dorian decide to travel after this, you'd better keep in touch, you hear? No excuses about late letters; I'll send one of Leliana's ravens after you."
"It's a promise," Azur laughed. What had been a long a stressful night had ended just the opposite. Worry and doubt melted away into the cool night air, rising and falling with the driven snow.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Dorian and Azur gathered with their closest friends, a much smaller assembly than all those invited to the reception. Bull, Cassandra, Krem, and Cole had erected a temporary gazebo under which the two would proclaim their love to all the world.
"...You fill my days with love and laughter, and your voice is the music to which I want to live the rest of my days..."
"...You shine like a thousand suns; you are the greatest treasure I have ever beheld..."
They barely waited until Mother Giselle announced them husband and husband before they each dove in for the long-awaited kiss. Sera and Bull made a spectacular show of obligatory wolf whistles.
Later, as they made their way to the reception, Rowan noticed that Azur had gone with Cassandra's lovely braided up-do in spite of Josephine. Her own hair brushed her arms in messy, finger-combed waves.
"It looks rather fetching," Cullen had assured her that morning. She thought the correct word he was looking for would be 'messy,' but if the blonde commander ran his fingers through her hair more often, who was she to complain?
"You let him get away with it," Rowan whispered to Josie when they passed one another.
The Ambassador shrugged. "It's his wedding day. Besides, I made him swear he would wear it down for the honeymoon."
Perhaps due to their late-night practice-or maybe a little of Andraste's assistance-both she and Azur made it through their dances smoothly. Rowan melted into Cullen's arms the moment she was free from dancing with other lords and ladies as part of her social duties.
All in all, the wedding had gone off without a hitch, and members of the Inquisition couldn't be happier for their friends. Today, they celebrated life, love, and unity. And tomorrow or the next day, whenever they fought for their lives and freedoms, those hopes and dreams would carry them into a brighter future.
YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE, NEVILLE LONBOTTOM.
JK, he totally fits so well in this series. Also, Dorian and Azur are too adorbs-I cannot handle it.
Feel free to spread some holiday cheer in the comments if you like. Any and all flames will fuel the fire by which my characters snuggle with their significant others and friends (and cousins!).
Happy New Year!