The carriage passes through the lazy lanes of Halamshiral and Keela strains her neck out the window to catch a glimpse at everything she can. Halamshiral, the end of the journey, a place she never thought to see being held so in the grip of her clan. How could she ever curse this thing on her hand when it has opened the world to her?
Her kind is everywhere.
She never thought so many remained in one place, but the lower sections swarm with elves of all shapes and sizes. They walk, free of chains, masks or vallaslin, pass storefronts vibrant with color and wares, or gather in front of houses made from modest stone. These quarters are hardly as lavish as the human domains of Orlais she's seen, but the way the elves exist here is beyond the dreams and destitution of any alienage. There is something like life here, not just survival.
Keela wants to jump from the carriage and lose herself in the crowd. Ask questions, touch everything, drown in the familiar lilt of her language and bask in something new, but something of her world. She is always at war with her Dalish nature, but perhaps here she could find a place to belong.
Soon they're beyond the elven parts of the city and Keela loses interest. Extravagant homes blaze with thousands of candles and finely dressed humans walk the streets, but she has no interest to see behind their walls, their masks.
"Halamshiral is quite a sight, isn't it, Inquisitor?" Josephine asks at her side.
"Yes it is," Keela answers, her voice a little breathless. She has forgotten about the others in the carriage and suddenly can't wait to see his expression. Her eyes turn to Solas, but it doesn't seem like he has been peeking out the window for his eyes are already upon her. The look he casts upon her steals the breath from her with its intensity. His blue eyes are so dark, his mouth set in a line. It's such a hungry look, for what she's not quite sure, but she expects to see fangs if he opens his jaws.
"Just wait until we get to the Winter Palace," Leliana says from her place across the carriage and Keela is glad that the two rather observant women have missed this exchange. She tears her gaze away from Solas to make sure they do not arouse suspicion and, if she admits it, to escape his fixated attention. The memory of it curls around in her chest and sinks lower, deeper.
"If you wouldn't mind, Inquisitor, I'd like to go over…" Keela dares to sneak a glance back at Solas as Josephine rattles on and finds him gazing out the window, but his eyes meet hers in the glass. They're taunting, teasing, as is the grin on his lips. She gives him a wicked smile of her own before turning her attention towards the Antivan.
The Winter Palace is indeed grand, so grand she must tilt her head back as they enter through the looming gates. Gaspard walks her through the garden planted with nobles who stare at her behind gilded masks, some brave ones whispering about the marks on her face. Keela holds her head high, puts mystery into the slant of her mouth, the line of eyebrows. This is just another battlefield and she a warrior in velvet cloth. She does not know how to win this game just yet, but she is a fast learner.
The inside of the palace is even more spectacular and the empress beyond beautiful in her sapphire gown. Keela listens to her companions be announced and has to restrain herself from snorting when they dare call Solas a servant. She desperately wants to turn around and see the look on her lover's face at the thought. He is either greatly amused or wearing a frown like he has tasted bitter tea.
After the announcements she finds him leaning against a statue far enough from the main hall to watch, but disengaged from it all. His face is full of humor and a half finish wine glass dangles in gloved hands. Keela is somewhat surprised as he talks with passion about the whole affair, for some part of her thought he might deem this too extravagant, but he seems to thrive in the flashing lights.
She finds she agrees with his opinion of the Game. It is foolish, dangerous and bizarre, but it makes ones heart pump with delicious thrills and stolen breaths. She asks him for a dance and moves on to finish her clandestine tasks, but the image of his playful smile doesn't leave her mind.
Keela flits around the palace as the night grows darker. She sneaks into servant's quarters and deadly gardens, climbs trellises and discovers hidden vaults. She stores secrets like chestnuts in her mouth and passes them to Leliana or keeps them for herself. Keela engages with as many courtiers as she can, laughing, smiling, touching shoulders in merest grazes and playing coy beneath her lashes.
Some still whisper harsh words behind soft hands as she wanders by, but Keela remembers these cowards built their lavish palace on the broken bones and buildings of her people and lets the bitterness of it cover her in armor. Josephine starts to look at her differently, as if she is a prize possession to hang on the wall and display for all to see.
The game of sharp words turns into deadly knives as the night comes to a blood stained crescendo, but her companions are safe, the Inquisition has gained two powerful friends, and the alliance against Corypheus grows all the stronger despite his attempted interferences. Keela escapes from the crowds tired but content with what she has accomplished. She savors the moment of respite for she knows the night is not completely over. Leather encased fingers wrap around the balcony's bannister and squeeze tight to ground her into finishing these final tasks.
Lady Morrigan swishes to her side and announces her entrance into the Inquisition's folds like Keela has no choice in the matter. She isn't sure what to make of this human mage whose power seems as wild as her own, perhaps even more so. Magic calls to magic, but there is something in her piercing eyes that makes Keela's hackles rise. Morrigan is gone as quickly as she came and among all the noise, Keela can hear his footsteps approach. He is much louder in their matching boots, but he has never been able to sneak up on her even barefoot. She doesn't turn around to greet him, but waits until his figure appears at the corner of her eyes.
His smile still lingers as they discuss the night's events. Solas encourages her to remain strong, but it's his hand on her arm that gives her greater strength. The band filters through the open archway and fills his eyes with a lightness she has never seen before.
"Come, before the band stops playing. Dance with me!"
Keela can only stare at him for a moment, back bowed and hand extended, appearance so youthful she can't believe it's the same dour elf she loves.
"I'd love to," she says, surprised at how much she means it. They press close together, feet moving in the first steps of a casual waltz before Solas takes her by the waist and twirls her off the ground. Keela laughs like a delighted child. As he brings her back to the earth, their next steps are faster, lighter, and she feels close to bursting with the sudden joy in her heart.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been possessed by some sort of demon. Actually, I'm not entirely convinced you haven't."
"I do not think demons of the Fade have any inclinations towards dancing," he replies.
"Perhaps a spirit then? A spirit of…merriment?"
It is his turn to laugh. He brings them to a stop and rests his hand in the crook of her neck. "The only thing that has overcome me to tonight is just how beautiful you truly are."
He gives her no opportunity to reply as he brings them closer with a kiss. It is soft, playful, and makes Keela's stomach flutter. She feels like a youth receiving their first kiss and can't help but giggle into his lips. The noise makes her pull away, shocked at herself. Neither seem to be acting like their normal selves.
"Is this madness of yours passed on with a kiss then? I've never heard of such a spell."
"Enough of your chattering, vhenan. I would have your mouth for other pursuits."
"Sol-" He consumes her exclamation with another embrace. Fingers tangle into her hair and clutch at the small of her back. She sighs into him, wrapping herself just as closely around his slim waist. Where their first kiss was sweet as honey, this is a spice that begins to heat her from the center outwards. She's very close to pushing him into the shadows and making further scandal when a quiet voice breaks their solitude.
"Inquisi-oh! Oh, forgive me." The two elves move away from each other as Josephine stares at the ground with blush tinting her cheeks.
Keela laughs, still too buoyant to care. "Is there something you need?"
"The Empress and Lady Briala would like a few more words with us now that the guests are leaving for the night."
"Of course they do." Keela takes a few steps forward before turning to Solas. In their tongue, she asks with a voice like silk, "Will you come to me tonight?"
She doesn't know what possesses her to ask. Perhaps the music, the way his fingers still dance on her skin or how her lips tingle with his touch. They haven't been together since the night in the Exalted Plains more than two months ago and it is more a dream than memory now. The pause is in his reply is long enough to make her want to hide, but in the end he gives her a small nod.
Keela practically skips her way into the palace and, because her heart is doing flips in her chest, she leans over and gives the ambassador a swift kiss upon the cheek.
"Oh my-"
"Let us be off then, my dear Lady Montilyet."
Josephine shares an astounded look with Solas before following on the Inquisitor's heels.
