Chapter 21!
So, those formal suits they wear in the Winter Palace? I hate them. They are horrible. They had to go.
I adore every single one of you!
Disclaimer: as always - not mine.
-o-
Chapter 21 - The Bloody Formal Suits
Hermione had eventually agreed to her new title – realising the battle was already lost – but deciding to get something out of the whole thing, she had promised to shut up and accept it, if they only would change the bloody formal suits.
They had agreed, on the condition that Hermione was able to design and tailor new formal suits before they reached Halamshiral.
Challenge accepted, Hermione thought, and ventured to her quarters, set on completing her new task.
-o-
She eventually ended up in the Undercroft – that was the place where all the materials were stored after all – and after chatting a bit with the blacksmith and Dagna, she went to work.
She needed eight suits. They were eight people going to the ball, after all. Cullen, Josephine, Leliana, Lala, Dorian, Iron Bull – Bull's would definitely be a challenge – Solas, and Hermione.
She decided on colours first. The Inquisition flags were black, red, and white, so Hermione decided on black, red, and silver. Close enough. Silver would look better, after all.
The next challenge was to create eight identical suits, but still design them to fit each person in different ways.
Solas' was easy. He would definitely lose the ridiculous hat, get a high collar – he looked insanely sexy with a high collar – and there would be embroideries. Lots of embroideries.
Everyone would get high collars of course. But Solas' would reach just below his ear, while Cullen's would reach just his jaw.
The collar would be open in the front, and it would look like it was a jacket, more or less, somewhat similar to the Robes of the High Keeper, in fact. Not that the jacket would be that long, it would reach mid-thigh, somewhat similar to an old fashion noble suit. The jacket would be sewn on – like the Robes of the High Keeper – and have silver embroidery borders around the collar, all the way down to the edge of the jacket.
The main colour would be black, of course, but the inside of the collar, and the 'shirt' would be deep red, so would the trousers, except for a wide belt – black with silver embroidery borders – and black boots, reaching just over the knee. Black boots with tasteful, discreet, silver embroideries.
On the back of the jacket, the Inquisition symbol would be embroidered, just like the flags when claiming a keep, except the white would be replaced silver.
The design was complete, at least. Next came the tailoring to fit each person.
Hermione began with creating eight plain, black suits, hung them in a row on the left wall, and began flicking her wand.
Damned Qunari, Hermione thought as she frowned at Iron Bull's suit, flicking her wand furiously. She was going to make this work, even if it took her forever.
-o-
She had no idea how long she had been working when she realised she wasn't alone in the room. And by 'not alone' she meant 'the room was crowded'.
She didn't dare turn around at first, just sensing, searching for clues as to who was there.
Solas, definitely. Dorian, Cole, Vivienne, and Evelyn as well.
Is everyone here? Hermione thought, and slowly turned around.
Everyone was there. All companions, all advisors, Dagna, and the blacksmith. Not only were they there, they were standing in silence, watching her with awe.
"How long have you been here?" she asked nervously. "And why didn't you tell me?"
"You seemed very...focused, Hermione," Dorian said. "You didn't even notice it when we began piling in."
"The tailors in Val Royal have nothing on you, my dear," Vivienne continued, "and I only pray that you will agree to tailor my next gown."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "You have been here for ages, haven't you?"
"Ir abelas, Lethallan," Solas said, "but the sight was much too fascinating to alert you of our presence."
"Lovely," Hermione said as she gave them a jaded look. "Well, since you are here, would you like to try them on?"
-o-
"Oh, Hermione," Leliana whispered as she looked at her suit still hanging on the wall. "This is mine, yes?"
Hermione nodded. "That's yours."
Leliana - to Hermione's surprise - looked at Hermione with eyes glistening with tears, and then pulled her in for a hug. "You are a blessing, Hermione," Leliana whispered before turning back to her suit.
Hermione – knowing Leliana's passion for shoes – had put extra effort in the boots of Leliana's suit. The silver embroideries were more detailed than any of the others, and had a small, silver bird – a nightingale – and some small, discreet, silver beads.
-o-
Eventually, everyone stood in front of her, clad in their new suits.
"Damn!" Sera exclaimed. "Now I wish I was going to the stupid ball! I'm totally jealous!"
Hermione gave Sera a small smile, and then flicked her wand – she was in the design-zone after hours of doing it, after all – and smoothly transfigured Sera's leather gear black, red, and silver, eventually creating a combat-version of the formal suit, more or less.
"Wicked!" Sera exclaimed as she danced around, testing her new gear. "Just…wicked!"
Hermione gave Sera an amused smile before turning back to the suited people next to her.
"Well? How do we look?"
Hermione – while avoiding looking at The Dread Wolf, because the sight of him made her want to rip those clothes off him – smiled at Cullen as she conjured a mirror. "See for yourself."
"Damn," Iron Bull said, breathlessly. "Just…damn."
I might have done myself a disservice, Hermione thought as she glanced at Solas. Elf or not, he will have more than one noble lady drooling over him.
She didn't notice the uncertainty in Solas' eyes as she looked away.
-o-
Solas was a bit quiet later that night as they were getting ready for bed, and Hermione glanced at him, puzzled.
"What's wrong?"
Solas gave her a small smile. "Nothing is wrong, Lethallan."
The blatant lie – it wasn't hard to see that he was lying – made Hermione's blood freeze in her veins. He was leaving, wasn't he? He was regretting everything. He was going to break her heart – again – and for real this time.
"Solas," she said quietly, trying to stop the stupid tears from coming, "please don't lie."
He apparently heard the sadness in her voice, because he turned around, giving her an almost sharp look. Seeing her expression, he stepped close to her and put a finger under her chin, tilting her head back so she would look at him. "I'm not lying, my heart."
She sighed. "You obviously are. Something is going on in that mind of yours, something that is not making you happy. Something is wrong, and that might just mean that you are leaving, that I will have my heart broken, or something equally dramatic, at some point, maybe even completely out of the blue. I would rather just know, instead of going around wondering."
His eyes widened in genuine shock. "Is that what you think?"
She sighed. "Yes. The only thing I know for certain at this point, is that you will – hopefully – say goodbye before you leave, if nothing else. But a lot has changed since that conversation, hasn't it? For all I know, you will suddenly regret everything, realise that this can't go on, that you can't do this, etcetera, and you will leave, thus leaving me behind. I am more or less assuming that I am currently walking on a straight path, directly into certain heart-break. So when something is obviously wrong, but you won't tell me what, I automatically assume the worst. To protect myself the best I can, if nothing else."
Solas just stared at her for a long moment. "Ir abelas, ma vhenan," he eventually said, quietly. "You are right. Much has changed since then."
Hermione sighed again. "Yes. And this would be the time where you either confirm my fears, or give me something, some form of confirmation."
"I cannot promise you forever, Hermione."
He was about to continue, but she interrupted him. "I am not asking you to. No one can promise that. But some form of 'I won't crush your spirit and shatter your heart, at least not completely out of the blue' would be nice."
The Dread Wolf was apparently completely taken aback by the turn of events, because he just blinked at her for a moment. "I cannot promise you forever, Hermione," he said again, "and I cannot promise you that I will not leave. What I can promise you, however, is that if I do leave, it will be because I have no other choice. I can also promise – if it is in my power – that I will come back. Or…you may come with me." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Go out and make some memories for yourself instead, you told me. My way of looking at things is counterproductive. Well, vhenan, you might be right. Thus, I am trying…exactly that. To change my view. And to…make memories for myself."
Hermione was so overwhelmed that she couldn't speak. Nor could she breathe, quite frankly.
"The world is changing, is it not?" Solas said as he pulled her close, gathering her in his arms. "I am changing. You are changing… everything, my heart."
Hermione wrapped her arms around him, and just stayed like that for a long time.
He wouldn't suddenly leave.
He wouldn't suddenly change his mind about her.
He wouldn't suddenly break her heart.
-o-
She didn't quite know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, the world began turning again.
"Solas," she murmured, "I am still certain something is wrong. If you don't want to tell me, I accept that, but don't lie."
"It's ridiculous, Hermione."
She took a step back, looking at him. "Pardon? What is ridiculous? That I don't want you to lie."
He shook his head. "No. No, not at all. My reason for being…withdrawn."
She gave him a confused look. "I don't care. I was really upset the other day, because I broke my favourite quill. Then I mended it, but I was still upset for at least an hour afterwards. Everyone is ridiculous, thus, no one is ridiculous."
He looked away from her. "You obviously did not appreciate my appearance in the new suits."
Hermione's brain worked overtime, trying to understand what he was talking about, what he meant by that, and why in the world he would think such a thing. Not to mention trying to work through her utter surprise and confusion that this would be something for him to be upset about. He was an ancient elven god, for Merlin's sake. Ancient elven gods were not upset because someone didn't appreciate their appearance.
"What?" she eventually managed.
"I do believe you heard me. As I said, it is ridiculous, thus not worth mentioning."
She spent another moment trying to understand the issue. "You are upset because you think I didn't think you looked good?"
"That would be the base of it, yes."
She had to think for yet another moment, trying to figure out why he would think that. Eventually, she realised exactly why. "Because I kept looking away. That's why you think that. I didn't look at you much."
"Yes. I am not used to this, Lethallan. I am not used to seeking approval over such…insignificant matters. And so you believe something is wrong when, in fact, nothing is wrong."
"Even so, you are wrong."
"Pardon?"
"The reason I didn't look at you much was because I wouldn't be able to stop looking at you, which would become rather awkward rather quickly. Also, I found it rather difficult to not pounce on you to get you out of that suit, and rather quickly at that, audience or not. That's why I didn't look at you. Because you were breathtakingly beautiful, and completely irresistible, you left me utterly breathless, and I have probably set myself up for heart failure at the ball, not to mention competition. The noble ladies will swoon over you, elf or not; they will swoon."
Solas stared at her for a small eternity, but then – without her really knowing how that had happened – she was naked, her legs were wrapped around The Dread Wolf's waist, and her back was up against the wall.
The noble ladies would definitely swoon.