Mira certainly didn't like that they had to leave Kirkwall for Ferelden. Not that Kirkwall was any better presently. With the tensions rising between the Lords now that her Uncle was dead, the mounting threat of the Qunari, and with the horror stories she and Gavin had been hearing from The Gallows, it was best not to linger there. Many of Kirkwall had no idea, they only knew with the return of their cousins, the Hawkes, who had ventured near the Gallows themselves.

Maker only knew what would await them if Knight-Commander Meredith decided to make an extended visit at the Amell estate, gauging if Gavin would be the same sort of man as their uncle, one who bowed so easily to her and her beliefs.

She would be sorely disappointed if she did, Gavin was no such man.

The Lords would not assemble until later in Bloomingtide, several months off, giving Gavin ample time to find backers for his bid for the highest position Kirkwall could offer him, if he was to oppose Meredith. And that was what had brought them to Ferelden after receiving the invitation to Denerim. Even if they weren't expressly interested in finding a marriage bed for Mira, they took the chance they could find with the palace's open doors, a crown on her head more powerful than none.

Allying with the King of Ferelden, who had begun to give mages the power to govern themselves? He would be a powerful ally should Gavin continue down the road he was already travelling. Not only that, but this would more than likely be the largest gathering of dignitaries and nobility outside The Grand Tourney. The Tourney itself would not fall until after the Lords met to decide the new Viscount, leaving them with this ball as their only option. This would be their chance to gain as much a following as they could. Their plans could shape the very face of Southern Thedas if they succeeded.

They had to impress. Gavin specifically.

Aristide Amell, when he lay near death, had told her that she would be better suited than her elder brother for his high seat, but being the figurehead of Kirkwall politics was not for her. Even if she had the sense for it, she preferred spending her days away from the nobility she had already spent her life around.

Instead, she spent her days by the docks. Tending to those who remained stranded outside the city. She brought what food she could with her, offering that to what refugees she could. With the stresses of little food, little coin, little shelter, there were inevitably fights that broke out, leaving Mira to offer her services discreetly as a healer as well. It pained her each day to see these people without a home, without a country that would take them in if they couldn't pay their way into it. Her first week down there a year ago had her returning that night and pleading with her uncle to send some sort of aid. But he'd refused. And she knew then that Meredith had already spoke of the dangers of the Fereldens on their doorstep, that her uncle was wrapped around her iron-clad finger.

But with Gavin as the Viscount, things could change.

Her cousin, Sofia Hawke, had offered to check on the families she had gotten to know for her while she was in Ferelden, Anders leaving his clinic a day a week to help those at the docks that needed medical aid. She was grateful for her cousin and friend, feeling a little less troubled about leaving those who depended on her behind, for Maker knew how long she would be gone if things went well.

She could content herself with thoughts of her homeland's potential brighter future for the time being, otherwise she was going to lose her mind if she had to hear Gavin list of the various exports and holdings their family held once more. That was torture. The only thing the noble families in attendance wanted to know was how much they were worth, how much power they held, if they were a threat to their own daughter's or sister's or niece's bid for Queenship. And so, Gavin was left to repeat the same speech over and over.

Even the King's advisor, Arl Eamon, had had no time for anyone by Gavin, barely acknowledging her with a nod before the two were discussing how the Amells could benefit their southern neighbours. Gavin had a silver tongue, that was certain, the Arl seeming content to have met them, pleasant the entire conversation, but he'd moved onto the next grouping all the same, the same predatory smile as he'd had when he greeted them.

If this is what his entourage was like, what would the King himself be like? She could barely get a glimpse of him where he sat at the far end of the hall. Blasted Dog Lords, why were they all so tall?

Would King Alistair care about his people who lacked the coin to venture back across the Waking Sea? Would he care about the horrors occurring to Harrowed mages and apprentices alike under Meredith's leadership? Or would he only be worried about what they could do for him ?

And then she turned her head to catch him slump on his throne as the crowd parted just enough around her, his chin moving to rest on the hand he had propped on the large chair's arm. He was certainly handsome, that she couldn't deny. She'd heard that the Hero of Ferelden was more so, but she had a hard time imagining that to be true. Short ginger hair surrounded his golden crown, furs and richly coloured fabrics adorning his deliciously broad shoulders, and strong masculine facial features that were attractive even if he was scowling at the moment.

It gave her a little hope, if he was just as disappointed in this gathering as she… perhaps he wasn't as bad as his advisors afterall. But that would still remain to be seen.

She smoothed imagined wrinkles on her dress, keeping her hands occupied as Gavin spoke to the next new face that could either help them in the future, or disappear from their lives after this evening, never to be thought of again. Tonight she was dressed in what her family had taken to calling 'Amell Red', the dress fitting snugly on her curves, more snugly than she'd cared. Sofia had made her bring it with her, had convinced her that this would be the dress that caught attention. A king's attention. Mira didn't care for it at all, seeing only the lumps and bumps the dress revealed in her looking glass. Sofia had assured her that she was merely imagining them, but that didn't stop her from seeing them. She would be more than happy to not be noticed, was more than comfortable when she wasn't the centre of things.

She marveled at the women who were here for the chance of being Queen, who wanted all this attention. She pitied them somewhat… to want a man simply because of the power he wielded? She found that though difficult to imagine. And yet here she was, at the ready to sacrifice love, the freedoms of her life not burdened by the noble court, and perhaps her maidenhead if it came to it, if it meant helping her home and securing a new ally.

But she highly doubted that she would even turn the King's head, that he would even bat an eyelash in her direction. Looking around her at the beautiful women had her worried about her chances of even staying beyond the night to allow their chances to better. For the invitation had said that only a select few ladies and their families would stay beyond the first night, those who held the most potential of ruling Ferelden at the King's side. Maker, she would need a miracle for her to be the chosen one from the hall full of eligible brides.

But then Gavin's head turned suddenly, a grin forming on his lips as he murmured to her that now was her time. He politely bid farewell to the man he'd been speaking to, taking Mira's arm in his own as they made their way across the main hall.

She knew her hands were trembling, the reality that an alliance could end before it even began resting solely on her shoulders. She could feel the chill that ran through her, before it settled in her fingers. She knew Gavin could feel the drop in temperature through his dress jacket when he cast a glance at her and whispered, "Meer, not now. Deep breaths, control it."

She followed his instruction, breathing in deeply before releasing it, praying silently to Andraste and the Maker that no one could see the frost on the tips of her fingernails. With each breath it disappeared more and more, gone completely by the time they reached the front of the hall.

She dropped into a curtsey the moment they stood before him. Gavin moving into a bow of his own as he released her arm. She wasn't prepared to see the disappointment in the King's eyes just yet.

"May I present my sister, Lady Mira Amell."

And then she lifted from her curtsy, her head rising as his brown eyes found hers.

Oh.