Disclaimer: I don't own the Dragon Age franchise, nor I ever will.
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The Game, wine, politics...and pretty dresses. Welcome to The Winter Palace.
Chapter I: The Winter Palace
Empress of Orlais, Clarice confidently strode through the luxurious halls of The Winter Palace with her trusted advisor, Basil, at her side.
"Your Radiance, the Inquisition has arrived." The worried advisor informed while adjusting his silver mask in a hurry.
She responded, "Very well, and the King of Ferelden?"
Clarice had expected the foreign monarch to be a tad late from the lengthy distance. He was now ticking her irritation and she must make her arrival to the ball shortly.
The Council had instructed the Empress to hold the ball in honour of the Inquisitor for her heroic acts which led to the defeating Corypheus. It would have been a travesty for Orlais as well as Ferelden to fall to the ancient darkspawn and Clarice was joyful for the outcome, however holding this ball for the Inquisition was the last thing she desired.
Naturally, she was pleased and grateful for the Inquisition, however she knew full well the Inquisition was not in festive spirit. The ball might be necessary. Orlesian culture's unwritten rules required such pomp and circumstance, as necessary. But tonight's ball was the third such affair she had attended this month and she was growing weary of the events.
"He has not yet arrived," Basil said while attempting to arrange the drape of her skirt.
In Orlais, fashion was significant and elaborate among the nobles. vast. The nobles wore similar modest dresses however being Empress had its advantages. For example, she could wear whatever she pleased and instead of society frowning upon it, they would cherish the eccentricity and start a trend.
Clarice's dress was not big or puffy, in fact, it was a slim trumpet with an off-the-shoulder bodice of silver. A bejewelled belt hugged her waist and accented the relatively simplistic navy skirts that flowed loosely around her ankles. Half of her face was covered with a golden mask with colourful gems encrusted on it.
She stopped in front of the large doors that led to the balcony of the ballroom and spun to Basil. He was not only her trusted advisor; he was her only only friend in the Empire. Basil had known Clarice since she was a child and taught her everything she knew, from elegant table manners to horseback riding.
Basil rearranged her skirt yet again. She stepped away, interrupting his actions. "Basil, the dress looks fine," she gently assured.
"Every important person in Thedas is in that ballroom, you must look magnificent!" Exclaimed Basil.
"I have waited long enough." Clarice pronounced as she lightly swatted Basil's fretting hands away.
She gave him a small, meaningful smile before she commanded the guards to open the entrances.
The light from the ballroom spilled into the dim hallway with the soft tune and banter which filled the enormous room. The Game is on, Clarice thought as she let out a huff and sauntered, step by step, across the high balcony. She kept her back straight and head high, never looking at the guests below her.
When she finally reached the center, she shifted and looked at the guests with the biggest, brightest smile; it hurt her jaw. Everyone hushed and looked patiently at the Empress, finally receiving her awaited arrival.
The large crystal chandelier looming above them all lit the ballroom brightly. The blue curtains popped colour into the room. Everything in the Winter Palace was beautiful and carefully planned; the art fresco on the walls to the marble dance floor. The ballroom was so familiar to Clarice that she had grown unfazed by its splendour from all the balls spent here since birth.
What drew her breath away in excitement were the guests; the nobles and the royals, all under her command. Clarice loved the power she held and had never mistaken it. All present played the Game she was an avid participate of and she enjoyed every minute of it.
The Game had always been a fascination to her as a child. She wondered why her mother had always laughed and chatted with nobles however Clarice secretly knew Valrora had ordered a bard to poison their cup later that night. The noble woman puked all over the dance floor that night, making a laughingstock in front of the Empire. She has never shown her face in the Palace again. Her mother's intentions were extreme however there were no rules in the Game.
She desired to know more; she wanted to understand the lies, the backstabbing and politics.
Clarice spent years at her mother's side watching the nobles: reading their weaknesses, their strengths and especially their facial expressions when lying. The largest giveaway was the eyes and the smile. Also, the difference Empress Valora made a hobby of quietly moving her pawns in a hidden and deadly game. When Clarice succeeded to the throne, she was not so circumspect. She was the most powerful woman in the Thedas and she was not afraid to flaunt it. The Valmont family was well-established in their power.
While surveying the guests, she spotted the Inquisition easily in its red formal attire. Clarice had always thought it odd that the women insisted once more on wearing the Inquisition's uniform as they had the previous Palace ball.
The first she spotted was Ambassador Josephine who was old friend of Clarice. She was next to her sisters, who dressed to impress. Next, she spotted the Inquisitor herself with the Commander of the Inquisition's army. The dwarf looked tiny next to the large, and clearly miserable, Commander. The male looked like he would rather be in the company of darkspawn than milling among sparkling nobles. Clarice could not locate Leliana, who stood who always lurked in the shadows. The Empress had always respected the Spymaster's abilities.
Clarice finally declared, "Welcome, my friends. In the events of the previous month, the Inquisition has defeated Corypheus and has put Orlais and Thedas in peace. In ages of the future, we can safely say, we have left our children and their children in a brighter world. The Orlesian Empire will remain strong and continue to fight along the side of the right.
"We are here this evening to honour the Inquisition for their bravery. We are grateful and would like everyone to show our guests the utmost respect and gratitude. For their perseverance, their strength...and their courage." A wave of applause erupted, then died down as Clarice lifted her hand.
She finished proudly, "Feast, for tonight we are celebrating a great victory and many more to come."
Now, the fun begins, Clarice thought as she displayed a wide smile before taking Basil's arm to descend the marble stairs. She had practiced the speech only one time and it went as expected: smoothly. The speech was the easiest part of the evening, the interesting part would be playing The Grand Game.
"Well done, Your Majesty," Basil praised as they reached the end of the stairs. She awaited him to give her his usual instructions for the evening.
"Thank you, Basil," she responded as she scanned the crowd of royals and nobles.
She spotted her younger sister and brother speaking formally to Duke Cyril de Montfort. The Duke was quite a tall man with ink black hair.
"Empress, you must make the rounds as usual tonight. Talk to the Orlesians first and then the Inquisition, spend a generous amount of your time with them."
She began to walk to her siblings but was interrupted as Basil gently touched her arm and whispered in her ear quietly, "Play well, Clarice."
She nodded and strolled through the ballroom. Compliments fluttered around her like butterflies, masks obscuring the true intent of those who spoke them, but she, the most powerful woman in Orlais, had no need to fear insects. She basked in the attention and listened closely-she was radiant, her speech was inspiring, the gown was marvelous.
They did not wish to discuss politics tonight and Clarice was not surprised. After all, this was a celebratory ball, everyone wanted to enjoy themselves and get a tad bit druken. However, she knew behind these nice compliments were wicked hearts and beyond those elaborate masks were wicked eyes. The Game never stopped, no matter the occasion.
After making the rounds with the Orlesians, Clarice finally came across the Inquisitor. The dwarven lady was conversing with her enormous Qunari companion.
"The Inquisitor, herself," Clarice said as she swayed her hips to Cadash.
The Inquisitor was a dwarf named Malika from the Cadash family. She was recognizably short and had light freckles spread across her cheeks. She has eyes of green and rare red hair. The dwarf was pretty however Clarice didn't care what she looked liked, her rank was the lone important factor.
"A pleasure, Your Imperial Majesty."
Well, well, well, her manners have drastically improved since the last time the Empress encountered her. Clarice was slightly impressed and shocked from the Inquisitor however did not display it and instead kept a small smile on her face. Cadash acted like she belonged here and had a new bubble of confidence surrounding her. Saving Thedas should give that new exterior, she supposed.
"Please, call me Clarice," She said like it was very casual for the Ruler of Orlais to say that. "I suspect everything is well in Skyhold?"
Clarice's eyes drifted to the Qunari at the dwarf's side and it dawned upon her as she hid a smile. The Inquisitor and the Qun were evidently romantically involved. She could tell by the way the huge beast of a man lingered to the Inquisitor's side, protective despite being unarmed. An odd couple, indeed. Cadash barely came up to the his hip.
"Very much so, thank you." Cadash said politely.
"I wanted to give you my thanks personally. All of Thedas would have fallen to Corypheus if it weren't for you," The Empress said, testing the Inquisitor.
She knew Cadash was still offended due to the fact that the Clarice had first doubted her.
A look crossed over the dwarfs face and disappeared. Cadash smiled forcedly and replied, "Thank you, Clarice."
Clarice hid her frown and gave Cadash a sweet face and dismissed, "A delight, Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor had courage. Clarice had not expected the dwarf to take up her offer of her informal name. She was impressed if not a bit irritated by her informality.
"Your Radiance." The girls surrounding by the Commander cooed while she passed through.
Clarice stopped and rested her hands behind her back. She looked at the Commander and realized he has been isolated and not made his way to the dance floor once this evening. By the looks of his crowd, he seemed to be have asked several times. She gave the young girls a suggestive look and they scampered away.
This will be interesting, she thought as went to stand beside the Commander, freely sizing him up. Commander Cullen surprisingly cleaned up nice. His curly blonde hair was swept aside and he was clean-shaven for the evening. His formal attire was made of fine material and was, to say the least, better than his armour with that ugly fur that the Empress had seen once when she visited Skyhold.
"Commander," Clarice said as she stood beside him nonchalantly. The Commander shifted uncomfortably and she smirked.
He bristled, "Your Majesty." The poor thing must be wondering why the Empress was in his company.
She asked him while gesturing to the dance floor, "Don't care for dancing?"
"I try to avoid it." The Commander said while crossing his arms behind his back, trying his best to look proper.
He averted his gaze away from the Empress and she could see the sweat that glistened on his forehead.
Clarice held her amused laughter at how anxious she made the Commander as she asked, "How come?"
"I don't enjoy the attention," He said. "If you don't mind me asking, why hasn't the Empress had a dance yet?"
Clarice raised a thin brow, "I do not dance until the last. It is an old Orlesian tradition." She grinned slyly as she continued, "How can I get you on this dance floor tonight, Commander?"
He shifted and stuttered, "I-I, really am terrible, Your Majesty."
The Empress started, "Oh, you cannot be that bad."
A server carried a tray of wine towards the Empress and brought his head down respectfully. She politely refused the glass, but the Commander took one and thanked the server.
He asked, "Do you not like to drink?"
"It's not the taste I do not like. I do not like the alcohol," the Empress told truthfully, "I...like to be in control."
It was true Clarice never drank, not even the tiniest sip of wine. She had seen how different it made people. Alcohol made the strongest man into crybabies. The council was significant and Clarice listened to what they advised; however they never controlled her. The idea of not being in control of yourself was rather frightening to her.
"Empress!"
Suddenly, Basil arrived in front of Clarice and Cullen. He was slightly hunched over and tried to contain his breath. He breathed, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
The Empress rested a gentle hand on Basil's shoulder and assured, "I'm here. Whatever is the matter?"
"The King has arrived, Your Radiance."
It's about time, Clarice thought as she rolled her eyes and groaned, "Well where is he?" She looked above from the balcony and spotted him with his guards and nobles near the entrance. "Never mind."
Before she walked away, she looked at the Commander and said sweetly, "Commander, your resistance to dance is rather disappointing."
Oh how she loved being Empress. All the harmless threatening was quite fun and she loved to irritate high-ranked men and make them feel small. It was one of her beloved things to do, other than play The Game. Commander Cullen was just another highly-ranked man in Thedas who meant nothing to the Empress.
Clarice liked to play games other than The Grand Game.
Clarice saw the King and smiled. The ruler had his hair pulled back and was wearing his black and purple formal attire. The gold medals shone brightly and he had crossed his arms behind his back. He had aged immensely since he became King with his worry lines deepened and creases enveloped his forehead.
The King spotted her and smiled as they gave each other a gentle hug.
"Alistair." The Empress said as she released her grasp on him. "You're quite late, friend. Explain."
She had met Alistair when he was crowned as King of Ferelden. She had not expected to like the foreign monarch, however his humour had been a pleasant contrast with her own serious demeanour. They quickly became good friends and their countries prospered in harmony.
"I'm sorry, Clarice. The trip had a few...bumps," He told.
She laughed, "Like what?"
He lifted his arms and exclaimed, "A dragon! A large, fiery, dragon. And of course, I killed it."
"How brave of you." The Empress laughed as she indulged in his ridiculous lie. "You must be starving from dragon slaying, come let's eat."
"As you command!" Alistair exclaimed joyfully as they walked towards the feast.
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Dancing is an art in Orlias, which the Lords and Ladies must be skilled in.
Cullen sighed in relief as he watched the Empress walk away towards the King.
Maker's breath, Cullen thought hastily as he leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. The Empress frightened him and his heart was still beating fast from the nervous banter. Cullen knew the Empress had meant to make him uncomfortable and awkward but he couldn't understand the reason as to why.
Cullen knew the Empress' ways. She captivated powerful men and kept them wrapped around her little finger, perhaps like she kept King Alistair. She was persuasive and cunning, not physically strong but she was as deadly as any leader. Clarice never did anything without a reason. Everything she did and said, she had calculated the outcome. She had planned it. The Empress was a true spectacle to admire and fear.
He watched the Empress dance with the King. She moved elegantly and never took her eyes off her partner. It would seem like they were, connected however Cullen believed the Empress had the King under her spell. A relationship of the two most powerful people in Thedas, now that would be the talk of the century.
Iron Bull and the Inquisitor walked up to the Commander with an odd look. He was alone from the ladies the Empress had thankfully banished. He just hoped they wouldn't return.
"What did the Empress want?" Malika asked seriously and put a lingering hand on her hip.
Cullen was well aware of the dwarfs feeling towards the Empress and did understand them. The Empress had been quite disbelieving of the Inquisition at first and did not fully accept them until her life was almost taken the previous time they were in the Palace.
Cullen sighed, as he felt comfortable again, "Nothing really, I suppose she was giving us her thanks," The Commander lied, considering the Empress had never thanked him once personally.
Iron Bull blasted, "She is scary." Malika slapped the Qunari on his stomach, where she could reach and glared at him.
She whispered while looking around, "Quiet, every Orlesian is her ears."
Cullen listened to them bicker as he involuntarily let his eyes wander to the dancing Empress once more.
Cullen waited impatiently for the tiring evening to be over.
He really needed to return back to Skyhold, there was still so much to do be done. Since the Breach was fully sealed and the Inquisitor defeated Corypheus, the troops had taken a rather long break and they were to be whipped up in good shape again.
The night was finally coming to an end and he could not be any happier. He walked toward the balcony and rested his arms on the railing. He overlooked the happy guests and wondered what actually living in Orlias would be like.
The fashion was great and he had appreciated it however thought it to be unnecessary at times. Living in the Winter Palace would be extravagant to say the least, however he wondered how they kept warm in the winters, a Palace is built differently from a Castle.
The Game was never a hard concept to understand for Cullen. He knew full well he wouldn't be good at it. He wasn't a good liar, or charmer at that. These people, the royals and nobles, they were nasty behind the lies. Cullen knew the Empress was as wicked as everyone else in the room tonight.
Speaking of her, a gentle arm touched his shoulder he was surprised to see the Empress standing behind him a sly smirk. Everything about her shouted regal, from her held high head to her insanely straight posture. She wore a mask that revealed her brown eyes.
She said knowingly, "I haven't seen you on the dance floor yet once this evening, Commander."
"Well, Maker blessed me for that," He pointed out. The Commander mentally scolded himself for not watching his words more carefully.
She nonchalantly replied in her Orlesian accent, which was easy to follow, "I suppose."
Abruptly, a high-pitched voice cracked out, "Your radiance, if you would do me the pleasure of having this last dance with I?"
The intruder was quite big and had large growing stomach. He had on the typical Orlesian nobility attire and sported a rather crazy hat.
The Empress smiled as radiantly as her title and took the man's hand with both hands and raised a brow at Cullen for a second before she chuckled, "Duke Cyril de Montfort! If only you had asked sooner…"
She looked at Cullen wickedly and said, "However, I have already promised the Commander the last dance."
Wait. Did she just…?
The Empress watched Cullen expectantly with an amused smile on her face. Cullen said nervously, "Uh, yes, I am quite sorry, Your Grace."
"Oh, don't be, young man. Have a nice evening," The Duke said briefly and rushed away, likely feeling embarrassed of being rejected by the Empress.
"Do not appear so nervous, it is easy," Clarice bristled casually as she leans on the ledge.
"B-but," Cullen started. The Empress frowned and put a finger on her lips. She commanded, "No buts, Commander." Cullen shut up.
He backed away and stumbled, feeling nervous and a little fearful being around the Empress yet again.
"Shall we put it this way, the Commander of the Inquisition did me great favour by rescuing me from dancing with the disturbing Duke. The Empress owes you one, does that not sound pleasant?"
"I-I."
"The dance is about to begin, Commander," The Empress interrupted and held out a delicate hand which Cullen forcefully and regretfully took.
They made their way through the balcony where he could hear the guests giggle at the sight of the Commander. He also heard hushed whispers for the Empress. He passed Josie and she looked like she was about to faint. Cullen knew that if he messed this up, the Inquisition's image would be damaged. He gave Josie a reassuring smile that said everything would be alright, Cullen could only hope that would turn out to be true.
They walked down the stairs and walked on the dance floor. It was just the Empress and the Commander.
Where is everyone else? Please don't tell me this is a duet only...
The Commander's heart was racing in fear of embarrassing himself in front of everyone important in Thedas. He could feel everyone staring at them, him. Cullen felt lightheaded as each second past.
Come on man, get it together! You have slain dragons and darkspawn. This is easy compared to everything else. You know the steps, just don't step on her feet!
Easier said than done, at once, the beautiful melody echoed throughout the ballroom, the Empress curtsied gracefully and Cullen bowed shortly after.
Cullen stretched out his hand and Clarice took it gently and they pushed together. They begin to step largely, listening to the tune. Cullen tried his best to not step on her or his own feet and focused very hard on messing up the moves. The dance was simple enough, with turns and spins and even more turns and spins.
"You're doing rather well," Declared The Empress while looking at Cullen.
Her hands felt light in his hand and he noticed how many years of dancing practice she has had to move so gracefully.
Her long hair bounced off her back as she twirled. The way the Empress carried herself was likely what made people captivated by her. She had an air of confidence surrounding her that was charming.
However, she wanted him wrapped around her finger but Cullen Rutherford was never one to be tossed. He still feared her, all right, but he was now wary of her as well.
Cullen replied hastily, "It's not that I can't dance. I choose not to."
"Don't like the attention, fear the embarrassment?" The Empress said while gliding her hands and stepping back.
"E-exactly so," Cullen responded, feeling slightly shocked she eerily knew what exactly he felt.
Cullen spun the Empress around and he felt his irritation grow toward the Empress higher and higher. Cullen knew what kind of game the Empress was playing. The last thing Cullen wanted to do was to join.
The song picked up and more steps are to occur and faster. Cullen and the Empress dance, like it is a competition to see if he will fail or not.
"The evening is almost over, pleased?" She tested him.
He lied, "No, Your Radiance. I enjoyed the evening fully."
She laughed which was haunting and made a shiver run through his spine.
"Really? Well, I for one am excited to rest."
"Interesting, I would have thought you would enjoy this the most," He said after spinning her around. The music slowed down, winding to the completion of the song.
She said while they slow down and finish the dance, "Everything gets tiring after time, Commander."
"Very true," He said while the music halted and he blesses Maker for not embarrassing himself.
"Too much of anything will do that," She said quietly while giving Cullen a grin. "I like to try new things occasionally."
She raised a brow and confirmed, "A pleasure."
Before Cullen could even respond, the Empress spun and walked away from him, leaving the Commander alone on the dance floor with over a hundred eyes glued to him.
Maker's breath, the Empress truly is wicked.