And here it is! The first of two chapters about the Orlesian Ball everyone is so excited about. Hope you enjoy!
Also, if there are any fan speculated theories you have or heard about that you would like written, send me a message and I'd be happy to check it out to see if I can fit it into this story.
The inquisitor tugged in irritation at the maroon silk dress with tassels and buttons encrusted in gold she had been forcefully shoved into by Vivienne earlier that day. Her long hair was pulled out of her face to "highlight her pretty eyes" as Vivienne had said. Oh, and her feet had been shoved into gold shoes that pinched her toes.
Overall, the former mercenary was very uncomfortable and hating the mission more with each passing moment.
"Remind me again why we are here?" she asked the Orlesian mage beside her. Vivienne was happily admiring the work she had done on the inquisitor.
"Empress Celene's life is in danger and until she can sign a treaty with Ferelden, Orlais is in a delicate situation. The inquisition has a tough enough time fighting monsters everyday with the ability to travel borders. Without this treaty and with Empress Celene dead, Orlais will be off limits to us." She explained. The inquisitor sighed and nodded dejectedly.
She did not want to do this.
"Come on, Princess. Stop it with the long face. It'll be fun." Varric said with a wink. The inquisitor would never admit it to anyone, but the dwarf cleaned up nicely. His tunic was ridiculously too low and exposed far too much of his chest, but he looked nice in Orlesian robes.
The inquisitor gave him a sour look. "Until the day you must dance in gold shoes that are much too small for your feet, I do not want to hear you say anything about my face." She growled. Varric chuckled, looking her up and down.
"Well, you clean up nicely either way, gorgeous."
The inquisitor fixed him with a glare. "What did I tell you about calling me that?"
He simply grinned at her.
Empress Celene had uncovered an assassination attempt that would take place during the course of the ball she was throwing that night. She had confided in her advisor, Vivienne, and Vivienne had promised to stop the assassin. That was why she, Varric, and the Inquisitor were dressed in fine clothing and attending the empress' ball.
"How am I going to fight in this?" The inquisitor asked Vivienne. Varric answered her instead by pulling aside her skirts to slip a pair of jewel daggers into the folds. The inquisitor looked at him in surprise.
"I acquired them from a merchant just outside of town. They match your dress in case someone notices them." He told her. She frowned slightly as she looked at the weapons.
"I have never fought with daggers before." She confessed. Varric took them from her and placed them in her hands, showing her how to hold them.
"It's simple, the pointy end goes into the other guy." He said with a grin. That elicited a smile from the inquisitor and she gripped the blades tightly in her hands. Varric let go of her wrists. "It's not much, but it's something in case you need them."
"Remember, we are not to draw attention to ourselves or let anyone know we think something is wrong." Vivienne said. The inquisitor nodded, returning the knives to her dress. She took a deep breath as she stared at the double doors leading to the ballroom.
"Let's get this over with." She said, determined. Her companions nodded and followed in behind her as she pushed the doors open.
The richly decorated hall was draped in gold and blue while people danced to the music from the orchestra playing to the right. The inquisitor stood rigidly in front of the doors, frozen in minor panic. She was a mercenary; she knew how to fight and how to lead, but dancing? She was lost.
Vivienne leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"Remember to blend in. Try to discover if anyone seems to be acting strangely. We need to stop the assassin before he can strike. And do not make yourself a target in the process." She said. The inquisitor nodded once, stiffly, and Vivienne left her alone to meet up with the fourth member of their party: Dorian Pavus. The mustachioed man bowed to her before taking her into his arms. The inquisitor felt a little bit jealous at how easily the pair was able to fit in with the nobles in the room.
Not to mention Vivienne was a wonderful dancer. She glided across the floor and Dorian complimented her quite well.
The inquisitor glanced around the room, feeling helpless in the situation. She knew how to take down many different foes, but pretending to be a noble was something she was lacking at. Manners and refinement were not in her repertoire.
"Princess, relax." Varric said from beside her. He took her hand and gently led her to the dance floor. "I may not be the best dancer, but I'm one hell of a teacher." He smirked at her and placed one of her hands on his shoulder and the other in his own hand. His free hand came to rest on her hip. His head didn't quite reach her shoulders, but it wasn't as awkward as the inquisitor feared it would be. He led her into the waltz and she was careful to keep from stepping on his feet.
"Why would someone think an assassination attempt during a ball would go over well? There are too many people around." The inquisitor whispered to her dwarven companion.
"A ball provides the perfect opportunity. There are less guards around and most people don't wear armor to dance."
"Speaking of dancing," the inquisitor grinned cheekily at him, "who knew dwarves could dance?"
Varric looked at her in mock offense. "My lady, dwarves are quite well known for their dancing capabilities. All of the nobility are to take classes on dance while growing up and even the poorest caste entertain themselves with dancing."
The inquisitor raised her eyebrow at him. "That can't be the truth." She told him. Varric gave her a toothy grin.
"Lying through my teeth, Princess."
The pair fell into silence as the inquisitor focused on the steps of the dance and Varric focused on the inquisitor. She had been growing on him since the moment he met her. She was a little rough around the edges, but had a good heart.
"I never thanked you for the daggers, Varric." The inquisitor whispered, leaning in so her lips brushed his ear. Varric suppressed a shiver.
"No need to."
"I want to." The inquisitor protested. "Let me make it up to you."
Varric smirked at her. "And just how do you plan to do that?" he asked. She shrugged, chewing on her lower lips. It was a habit Varric found he enjoyed watching.
"Anything you want."
Varric quirked an eyebrow at her, amused. "So you'll do anything?" he teased, heavy innuendo lacing his tone. The inquisitor resisted rolling her eyes at him. She opened her mouth to rebuff his question when a piercing pain in her chest caused her to hiss in pain. Varric's eyes widened and he looked down. He swallowed hard.
"Inquisitor—"
She glanced down, already knowing what she would find. The tip of a dagger was protruding from her chest, just shy of her heart. The inquisitor gritted her teeth, feeling blood soaking her gown, and roughly grabbed Varric's shoulder to stabilize herself. He grasped her arms to hold her steady.
There were cries of panic from the partygoers as several men in black seemed to materialize around the room. The inquisitor shoved Varric away from her.
"Get Vivienne." She ordered and pulled out the daggers he had given her earlier. Varric nodded once before moving quickly to find the Orlesian mage. The inquisitor faced the assassin closest to her and raised the unfamiliar weapons. She had fought wounded before. The trick was not to remove the blade.
There were no sarcastic jibes from the inquisitor or her attackers; she simply stood at the ready, waiting for them to strike.