All rights belong to BioWare, the only thing I own are my character's personality, name, and appearance, enjoy.
Cole stood alone in the corner, fingers rubbing together as the others paced the contours of the room. "Too loud…too loud." He repeated as Cassandra and Varric bickered in circles. By the third circle, the elven inquisitor excused himself, setting himself atop the marble railing on the balcony. Truthfully, he cared little for what course of action they drove towards as results were the more pressing issue. He took one glance back inside to the gilded room filled with his companions before returning to his scenery.
Atop the Inquisitor's desk rested a letter with a seal everyone knew. At the very bottom, written with chicken-scratch, was King Alistair's signature. It wasn't every day that an elf was invited to a party much less one hosted by royalty. Unlike Empress's Celene's party, one could assume King Alistair's would not include the Game. The elf sighed on the railing as the depleting sun was whisked away by the mountain side.
Fingers danced through his corn silk hair, sending shivers down his spine as he desperately clung to the metal weave. "My my, it's quite the scene to see you looking all beat up, Inquisitor Falon. Do try to keep your appearances up, I can't make everyone look beautiful you know." Dorian fluffed up the edges of his hair, sending it spiking away from his skull.
"Oh? Why should I when I have such a great and free personal groomer." Falon didn't have to turn to know the Tevinter was smirking. He even smiled too though the awkward feeling of his lips turning at their corners almost killed it instantly. Falon leaned back into Dorian's chest; quite knowing what he was doing wasn't fair. In their year of interaction, he had spoken little of his own background, giving vague details like sprinkles without the main course. Fortunately for him, not one had asked except for Cassandra and her minor details.
Like always with their time together, he wished it wouldn't end. He found land again, picking up his staff as a walking stick. His friends fell silent as he hobbled into the room, weight almost entirely on the weapon. "I have an idea that will put you all to shame, we do the same as the Winter-Palace but bring more people, deal?" The others seemed disappointed with the easy resolution but none disputed it.
Josephine was more than ready for the fighting to end and scribbled ferociously at her paper before handing it to Leliana. The acceptance letter. "Very good, Inquisitor. We shall inform the King immediately." She nodded, taking her leave. The sharp pinpricks assaulting his leg weren't letting up and only mere willpower kept him upright. As his grip slipped away from the staff, his circle dispersed the room, mindless banter parading from each person. The only one to remain was Dorian. The door creaked shut and Falon was prodded to the bed, the Tevinter eyeing his leg.
"Does it still hurt amatus?" He grazed his hand over it, pausing as audible gasps broke free of the elf's caged mouth. The elf shook his head and Dorian pressed his hand against the wound once more, cocking his eyebrow at the dalish's pained expression. "Look…" He began, moving next to the elf. He didn't speak for a while, watching the larks flitter across the Serault glass. He had never seen a sight so beautiful before. "Let me be the only one you don't lie to amatus…" He pressed his shoulder against the elf and huffed before closing his eyes.
"Hurry along, our destination is close." Solas led the way, his staff the only light source in the deep and damp cave embedded within the side of the mountain. Falon was fascinated by the ivy colored stone caking the walls from head to toe. He ran his fingers over it, trying to peel away its layers hiding mysteries older than his clan's stories. "You included, Lavellan." Falon jolted out of his curiosity, pulling next to Solas who seemed almost unimpressed with the Elven pantheon.
Falon dazed again, using the tapping of staves to keep his attention at least partly on Solas leading. "So much history here…" He mumbled, gazing restlessly around once more. If there was any information here that he could take back home, he would no matter the cost. The metal staff hit one last stone before a wall decided to end their travel through history. His ice colored eyes darted between the line of jade portraits. He bowed, gaining frowns from his allies, especially Solas.
"One moment if you will." Solas pressed his hand against the stone that jutted out awkwardly. The room lit up with green spirals of painted leaves weaving intricate patterns led the way to a new area. It was a lake, with the sky's beauty reflecting upon its surface. They waded through the water, most of his companions waiting on dry land. The low rumble as they approached the pillar was as foreboding as if the entire temple threatened to drop on them if they acted incorrectly.
The glitter of metal was highly unforgettable as a body rose from the lake, its rotted flesh releasing fumes of horrifying stench. His shoulder rammed into Dorian, knocking him out of the way. The blade of the corpse ripped into the flesh of his leg, knocking him down to the stone ground. The next swing was intended for him as it embedded deep within his hip. He collapsed into the water, the corpse following after being struck by lightning. It wasn't deep but neither was it shallow and as pain wracked his body, he fought for air.
Spasms shot through his body as the skin around his leg tingled and overtook his senses. He grasped his leg as his body surfaced. By then almost all except what seemed like the leader of the undead were collapsed on the ground. Falon didn't even seem to realize he was being dragged out of the water. A hand touched his cheek as his vision swayed vigorously. "Falon…? Hey, Falon! Come on, stay with me! Vivienne, I need your help, his wounds won't stop bleeding!" Dorian's voice cracked as tears dripped on the elf's face.
Falon's hand caressed the tear-stained man's face as the formation of words on his lips let no sound escape. Falon let one more smile stretch on his face before his eyes closed.
"I feel foolish."
Falon snorted while adjusting his keeper's robes, the last gift he received from his Keeper. He laid the laurel of leaves around his head, frowning at his image in the mirror. "You look stunning, I, however, look like one of Sera's monstrous dinners." He pressed his cheeks up before pulling them, completely dissatisfied.
"Whazzat supposed to mean, twitchy?" Sera grumbled from her seat. She definitely was not happy. Unlike Empress Celene's grand ball, his group was dressed according to their standards rather than red silk made from the finest sheep and wool. Josephine, however, refused to comply with Sera's fashion choices and she now bore a deep red dress covering almost her entire body. When he didn't respond, she puffed loudly, crossing her arms like a small child. "So then, entertainin' way out there nobles, yeah? Fine then, I'll just throw em' those yuck raisins; see how they like em."
Her face grew more in disgust as he merely smiled at her direction. "Now, now Sera, only throw them at anybody who isn't the Hero of Fereldan or the King. As much fun as that would be…I kind of like my head being attached to my neck." He nudged her gently, ignoring her rolling eyes.
"Oh I doubt the Queen would do that…at least not until after she's shared a few stories or eaten dinner." Leliana interjected before giggling at the wide array of expressions ranging from baffled to wary. Even after she waved off her joke, Sera's nervous laughter rang out in the near empty room.
"Oh haha…you're joking, yeah…?" She was left in silence as Leliana merely settled herself in the carriage, humming an unfamiliar tune. The trip was abnormally silent, save for the nervous fidgeting of Sera and Falon. And by the time they arrived, Falon stiffened, his joints refusing to cooperate.
Leliana tucked a strand of hair behind an ear before departing. "And here I thought some of my taste had worn off on Elise…guess I was wrong." She was gone before another word could be spoken, chasing after some woman with "gorgeous" shoes.
Falon patted his legs, ignoring the sharp pain it brought. Healing spells and potions could only go so far. His body was heavy as he dragged himself to a standing position, his weight completely riding on his staff. "Well now." He paused, looking over the others that had waited. "Shall we see what all the fuss is about?" His movements were slow as he hobbled closer to the castle though none of his allies dared to pass.
"Come, come now amatus, we can't keep them waiting." Dorian led him along, all traces of the limp hidden. They paused before the grand doors with gilded leaves spiraling down to the bottom. Falon did not want to move, his feet rooted to the floor. "Tsk tsk people will talk." He could feel his face growing hotter as he refused to move. Lips tickled his ear and he flinched inadvertently. "Don't worry."
He rubbed his ear with his shoulder; face now sunburnt from the faint blush. He stuttered, his composure shattering instantly. "Wh-What? That's…that's not why…anyway I'm just nervous that the Hero won't like me…us" He corrected himself.
The guard near the door broke his stance, guffaws escaping as he half crumpled over. He wiped tears from his eyes before clearing his throat. "Of all things, that's what you're worried about? That's classic!" He wheezed, giggles resuming. "I assure you that should be the last of the problems unless you're a Howe which I highly doubt you are." He paused. "But if you are…the most it'll be slight animosity towards you." He laughed again before straightening into his post silently.
Falon gulped. All he needed to do was to go in and survive. He was prey before bloodthirsty predators. He pressed forward, taking the lead from Dorian. The doors cracked, blinding light escaping, and the bursting of chatter clashed instantly. "How bad can it be…?" He murmured to himself before allowing the light to circle him.