Anemoia
Gorgeous. She was absolutely gorgeous, Fenris thought as he kicked himself mentally for thinking like that.
Bethany slowly turned from the mirror, the red Orlesian ball gown Isabela had bought complementing her skin. Varric was currently reciting praises for her beauty while Isabela was making her hair ready for the occasion. Hawke was silent for the most part, his expression only could be translated into "This is not a good idea".
Bethany was beaming, on the other hand, "Almost ready," she said, "Could someone please remind me the plan again?"
"Easy, Sweetness." Isabela answered, "You'll just be at the party, wearing this, while we do our thing."
Hawke grumbled, "We cannot leave her with the enemy, wearing this."
Varric smirked, "Why not? She would kill these people just by…" he paused for a second "wearing this."
Fenris was nodding before he came to himself. Fortunately, Hawke's attention was on throwing a book to Varric who dodged the object instinctively.
Bethany seemed to catch him off guard tough. She was trying to hide her smile when she said "Brother is right. I would not be comfortable going alone."
"Sunshine has a point," Varric added, "I believe, I am the best candidate as no one here can make sense of Orlesians better than I do."
Hawke looked at Varric for a second, then his eyes turned on Fenris, calculating.
"I don't want people to approach her easily" he said. He gave his great sword to Fenris, looked at him in the eye, and Fenris nodded. He knew what he agreed to as he knew what Hawke would do to him if something happens to Bethany, or at least he had the idea.
After endless cheesy remarks of Isabela and Varric, and Hawke's continuous gnarling, everything was settled, and they were on their way.
It was mostly a silent walk on the path among the sycamore trees.
Even though she seemed floating on air, Bethany remained silent. Fenris guessed it was her usual attitude near him. And he hated that.
"We are almost there," he said to break the silence, "Orlesians are the worst kind, so try to refrain from throwing fireballs at them."
"Sound advice," she said, smiling, "I'll behave. No worries."
She is a good mage, he thought, if there was such a thing.
"I fear I won't be fitting in though," Bethany's face saddened suddenly, "as I usually don't."
Cheering her up was not the part of his job, but he could not help himself saying, "You look pretty in this dress. It'll be fine."
Now she was looking at him, apparently amazed by his words.
Fenris averted his gaze, which did not help at all.
"Thank you, Fenris," she finally said.
The gates of the courtyard were towering before them now.
"I am glad Brother has chosen you for this task."
He tried to keep his calm composure, yet he felt his ears doing enough by being red.
She is a mage, he quickly reminded himself, and it seemed less relevant second by second.
"Likewise," he managed to say, thankful for the shadows hiding his smile as they entered the gate together.