So I meant to do an intro on the first chapter but I forgot...and well...because I am a very lazy person, decided otherwise to just go and edit it. Instead, my intro shall be on this chapter! Welcome to my terribly written story, feel free to stay for awhile...or not! Thanks to those who already liked the story, it means a lot especially since I had only posted one chapter so far.
As a side note, the romance in this will be very little and be mostly focused on the three main characters and maybe some OCs...The story is post campaign so there will be some spoilers. Thanks for reading and leave a review if you'd like. I take any constructive criticism on how to improve my writing so feel free to shoot me a message or something :)
"Keep your head up my dear. Yes, now spin. No, the other way. Now dip." There was a clatter as the partner was dropped to the ground. "My dear, make sure when you dance at Empress Celene's party, you don't drop whoever you are dancing with. We must keep up appearances and I perish the thought of the Empress seeing you in this state. Now, begin again." Vivienne tapped her fingers and what she defined as elegance dancing off their tips.
"So-sorry but how am I supposed to dance with someone taller than me!" He jabbed a finger at her, his scowl more like that of a puppy.
She turned her nose slightly upwards, her eyes bearing down on him. "Darling, how exactly are you planning on dancing with Dorian with that mindset?" He spluttered as his face flushed. "Oh come now, dear. You of all people should be the least surprised about people knowing about your affairs, you are in a position of power and people take notice of that."
He couldn't comprehend, turning towards the now-standing Cassandra. "Don't tell me…you knew about it too?" Her acknowledgement only made things worse and he pulled on his hair. "Oh no…." He repeated continuously.
"Now then, dear, let's continue."
"It's uhh…different." Falon concluded after entering the ballroom. Unlike the gilded corridors of the Winter Palace that hid secrets by the handful, the Royal Palace in Denerim was clouded and plain as if no secrets lurked within. The nobles held no masks, some danced drunkenly as others chatted away all their problems to others. The game was nowhere in sight.
It was with that thought that he relaxed taking solace from Dorian's scrunched face at the supposed "wet-dog" smell. Truthfully, he didn't think it was that bad, though the lack of dogs in the room was slightly disconcerting.
"And there, at the edge of the room, covered in bile and blight, was the Mother. Oh she was horrid! And what do we learn next? That this intelligent darkspawn was actually the reason she existed in the first place! It sounds crazy right? And –"A woman stood in the middle of the room, a crowd accumulating with tension rising as each word passed her lips. From all observation, she was relishing the attention, her hyacinth eyes flashing with each gasp from her audience. A few women swayed with their hands dramatically against their foreheads.
Her story halted, eyes now focused on the Inquisitor whom had rooted to his spot. "Excuse me, ladies. Gentlemen." The sultry smile on her face was unmistakable as she gestured the crowd away with only a gentle twitch of her fingers. A man, whom Falon vaguely recognized as King Alistair, offered her an arm, one she gladly took. It was like a scene out of a story book.
She stopped before him, bowing slightly as her free hand supported her bulging stomach. "Greetings, Inquisitor Lavellan, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am Elise Theirin but please, call me Ellie. I've heard all about your exploits, dashing sword fights, dragons, and almost everything interesting. As of lately I've been unable to do anything interesting except admire the lovely architecture of this castle." She huffed, eyes rolling in response.
"Oh really? I just so happened to overhear the guards talking earlier and quite the surprise they saw an unknown figure with a very large stomach sparring with a dummy." Alistair cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes well...I'm sure these two don't mind if I do a little bit of exercise. And-"
"Sorry to barge in the conversation…ma'am…your highness…?" Iron Bull tipped his head, slightly perturbed.
She waved off his apologies. "Please, call me Ellie." He grumbled to that but voiced no objects.
"Well…Ellie…ma'am." He didn't last long. "Mind explaining why there's an Arishok at your uh…party?" His arms crossed while he fidgeted nervously. Since becoming Tal-Vashoth, Iron Bull didn't seem to mind other Qunari but perhaps one of the three leaders of the Qunari was different.
Her hand covered her mouth as she spun, looking for the person in question. "Arishok? Where?"
"That 'Arishok.'" Alistair pointed while Varric chimed in as he inserted himself into the conversation, kissing Ellie's hand lightly.
Her mouth popped open as she looked between the group and the "Arishok." "You mean Sten?" The others shook their heads. She pursed her lips in petulant defiance, eyebrows twitching every so often. "Yes, well, why you may have gotten used to calling Sten the "Arishok."" She curled her fingers with the emphasis, eyes rolling. "I haven't and he will always be Sten to me. I don't think he minds considering that he still responds to it and calls me Kadan. And to answer your question, we learned much from each other from our travels during the Blight…and I found his sword."
Falon blinked at that. Truthfully it sounded strange but to him, the entire Qun and its followers were strange. However strange it was, the answer seemed enough to placate Bull and his questions. She clapped her hands together, startling those around. "Now, if our second guest would show up, we could get down to business."
Yet again more confusion flickered across his face though it was quickly masked. "You did get our letter, correct?" Her face dropped as no recognition was made. Her eyes flickered from her husband back to the Inquisitor before settling on the surroundings. "You did send that letter…right Alistair?" The King seemed slightly distressed, lips tightening in response and his eyes hardened.
"Yes, along with the invitation." He left her side, speaking to the guards with discretion. If that wasn't enough to get worried, the increasing amount of guards was unsettling.
"We don't have much time now. Inquisitor, I am ashamed but I must borrow you for a minute." Her smile was strained as weariness seemed to continuously stack on her mind. It was unpleasant, seeing the woman who looked radiant now frightful.
"You say a minute but truthfully he wants it to be a long night of passion." Dorian interjected, fingers curling around his moustache. Elise's mouth quivered, small stifled laughter threatening to burst outwards. It wasn't until Falon spluttered, his face darkening, that she lost it. Her laughter rang out into the hall, capturing all attention.
Her finger swiped the lone tear making a grand escape out of her eye. "Yes, well…I assure you I plan on doing n-…" She had to pause again as another fit of laughter shackled her body. "Doing nothing of the sorts." Falon chuckled nervously with her, his elbow digging into the Tevinter's side. She fell silent as her arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen. "As soon as my other guest arrives, we must move quickly." The urgency in her tone was terrifying. Her mouth clamped shut as she watched the distance, no longer interested in those around her. "Welcome, Champion of Kirkwall." And to no surprise, was in no mood to greet with mannerisms.
An abnormally tall elf on her arm and a child latched to her legs, Hawke snorted at the sight. "What, starting the party without me? My, you've hurt my feelings Queen Elise…all one of them." It was the same snarky attitude from Falon's first meeting. The only difference was the blood smear on her face was replaced by light freckles against pale skin.
"And here I was told you were charming, pity." Falon flinched at the severity of her tone but frankly her expression said otherwise.
"Oh and now you wound me! Today is a good day!" The two women eyed each other with no animosity despite their tone showing otherwise.
Yet again, Varric broke into the conversation. He strode forward, arms extended, the widest grin stretched on his face. "Hawke! Weren't you supposed to be in Weisshaupt with the kid?" He met the child's eyes who still hid his face behind the red fabric of Hawke's dress.
"Yes, well Broody here-" The elf next to her interrupted, claiming he wasn't broody while her eyes met Varric's, an eyebrow raised precariously. "Made sure that I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Carver, well he's still a bit of a tit but he decided to join us. He's over there with Merrill." She made a kissy-face before it fell flat. "Almost forgot! This here is Malcolm Hawke, my son." She swerved him around, a proud look that her mother once held. She bore her strengths well and hid her weaknesses greatly.
"This is he? He's a little on the short side, isn't he?" Varric scratched his chin, guffawing at the child's annoyed face.
The child looked up at Hawke, tugging lightly on her dress. "Mother, he's really short." If anything broke the tension between the groups, it was Malcolm. The dwarf slapped his leg a hearty yet raspy laugh passing between his lips.
He wrapped an arm around the child's neck, dragging him along. "Nicole, I'm going take him for a bit."
The child went wide eyed, arms reaching for his mother and father. "Play nice dear!" As he was drug away, she called out once more. "And, Varric, don't teach him Diamondback." He flashed his signature smile practically telling her, 'no guarantees.' "Fenris, watch after him while we talk, okay?" Her robin egg eyes with lilac splotches littered within its color, narrowed, and the elf seemed adamant in not leaving her side. "Don't give me that look. I'll be with the Herald of Andraste himself and the Hero of Fereldan, now get going." She pouted slightly and if the situation wasn't serious, it would have been considered adorable.
He grunted before trudging off, stomps heavy. "Yes and one of those is pregnant." He murmured as he left earshot and it left Elise, Nicole, and Falon who was still leaning heavily on Dorian. Much to his surprise, the Tevinter had remained silent for the majority of the conversation.
"I'm sorry to still ask this of you, Sir Dorian, but I beg that you leave us to speak alone." When he made no movements she sighed greatly. "Do not make me invoke the Right of Conscription. If needed, I will take Lord Lavellan far away from you and you would never see him again." That struck a chord and he gazed into Falon's eyes, disengaging himself from the elf's arms. It left a numb feeling coursing through the Inquisitor's body.
His finger traced his jawline, not wanting to leave. "Try not to keep me waiting too long." He strode off, pulling next to Iron Bull and Sera who were already starting a drinking contest between them and some of the lesser ranked nobles.
"Don't worry; I don't plan on conscripting either of you. It was a last minute attempt to talk alone. If you would please follow me, we have much to discuss and now…little time to explain." They walked until they hit a small corridor, lined with a multitude of shut doors. She inhaled, eyes shutting gently. They snapped open, a wave of fright passing between the three. "There's been a change in plans. Tonight, we will die."