From Commander Cullen's personal journal:
The Inquisitor's appearance at the Winter Palace was, I'm told, a smashing success. Unsurprisingly, I was miserable for most of the affair.
Leliana and Josephine were in their element, forging alliances, slicing opponents to pieces with only their wits. I am almost certain I saw Leliana make a chevalier cry, although it is hard to tell for sure with those ridiculous masks.
From what I could tell, the Inquisitor did a passable job. She made her way slowly through the palace, saying incredibly meaningless things to everyone she encountered, Empress Celene included, and they all seemed to respond favorably to the nonsense tripping from her tongue. I don't like it in this world, and I don't like who she has to be when she is here.
If I am honest with myself, it is because it reminds me that she is not mine to keep.
I stationed myself near a punch bowl, with my back to the wall, so I could observe her progress and watch for any potential assassination attempts. Unfortunately, I somehow miscalculated my position, and found myself surrounded by courtiers, who interrupted my line of sight on the Inquisitor and were generally annoying.
The first time she came by, I did not even see her approach, as I was being harassed by an elegant man wearing a large paisley hat and a particularly ridiculous mask of some kind of cat.
"Are you married, Commander?" he asked.
"Not yet," I replied, cautiously, "but I am…already taken."
"Still…single, then?" he cocked an eyebrow and smiled, while all of the other courtiers around us giggled into their fans.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see Evelyn stepping gracefully around Lord Paisley Cat.
"Excuse me, Lord Monsanto," she said in that slow, aristocratic voice, "Commander, may I prevail upon you for a moment of your time?"
"Inquisitor! Did you need something?" I said, desperately.
"Inquisitor!" cried one of the more insistent courtiers, "Surely you do not seek to deprive us of the Commander's presence! After all, he is most…diverting."
I took her elbow and we stepped away.
One of them called, "When you return, you must dance with me, Commander! You cannot stand about all evening!"
"The sooner we track down the infiltrator, the better," I muttered, turning my back to the evil mob.
"Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?" she asked.
"Not yet," I scowled. "It would be easier if people would stop talking to me. Other people. Not you. I—"
As I spoke to her, someone behind me grabbed two generous handfuls of my backside. I whirled about and cast a scathing look at a giggling courtier.
"Did you just—grab my bottom?"
"I couldn't help myself!" she laughed, and retreated back to a group of similarly dressed women, who all whispered together and looked at me.
"You've attracted a following," the Inquisitor said, with a raised eyebrow. "Who are all these people?"
"I don't know, but they won't leave me alone." Shifting my position had been a tactical error. I placed my back firmly against the wall again, between a large potted plant and a suit of armor, to hopefully protect against any future flanking maneuvers.
"Not enjoying the attention, then?" She dipped her head and looked up at me through her eyelashes. Was she flirting with me?
"Hardly. Anyway, yours," I cleared my throat, lowered my voice, "yours is the only attention worth having."
"I don't suppose you'd save a dance for me?" I had never seen that expression on her face before. On one hand, having her look at me like that was certainly…alluring. On the other hand, I preferred her normally open gaze, telling me something incomprehensible about a spell she'd modified, or the sharp glances she sent across the chessboard.
"No, thank you," I answered without thinking.
"Oh." A frown.
"No! I didn't mean to—Maker's breath! I've been asked that question so many times I'm rejecting it automatically. I'm not one for dancing. The Templars never attended balls."
She smiled at me, then. It was the honest smile I was used to, and it made me feel better, knowing that despite all the masks, she was still at least one real thing at this ball.
The words, "Such a beautiful man. Completely wasted on her, of course. Can you believe, the Inquisitor is a mage? And even worse, downright plain," drifted over to us from beyond the plant. I started, and would have walked around the plant to confront the speaker, but Evelyn put her fingertips lightly on my arm and I stopped.
"Let it go, Cullen." She murmured, "It is all just part of the Game. In a few hours, everyone will be feeling very differently, but I'm afraid you'll have to hold out for a while longer."
I sighed, "I await your signal," and watched her glide off into the crowd.
I didn't see her again for several hours. Some chevaliers came by to talk to me and were able to shove the hangers-on out of the way in order to hear some war stories, but they eventually left and the swarm returned. Later, there was a stir, and my escorts actually detached themselves from me to stand at the edge of the balcony and watch the dancers below.
"Can you believe Grand Duchesse Florianne is dancing with the Inquisitor?"
"Who would have thought she'd be such an elegant dancer?"
"The Trevelyans have an impeccable pedigree, for Free Marchers."
"Did you hear about the contremps in the servants' quarters? They say there was fighting!"
"Servants always fight, my dear. Elves are so melodramatic, but such gossip is beneath my notice."
"Well, I consider her to be quite striking! Not all women must rely on excessive displays of décotellage, especially after the first blush of youth is gone."
"I didn't see you complaining when that Desjardins woman walked by earlier, Lord Monsanto."
While I was tempted to go and watch her dance, I took the opportunity to move away from my plant and armor for potentially safer territory. Sadly, I didn't get far.
"Oh, Commander," called one of them, "has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?"
"Several times tonight, actually." There was no escape. Back to the plant. When one idiot departed, another took their place. I was reminded of fighting demons outside of the Breach: an endless stream of opponents, grinding you down via exhaustion. In retrospect, I am being melodramatic, but I cannot emphasize how incredibly irritating the whole thing was.
And so I stood there, harassed, groped, and complimented, until Josephine came by to rescue me.
"Commander," she said graciously, "would you do me the very great pleasure of allowing me to introduce you to my younger sister? She's just over there, on the other side of the ballroom."
"I would be honored." I bowed—my backside shielded by the ever-loyal plant—and gratefully followed her away from the mob.
We all met in a secluded alcove. I noticed that the Inquisitor's hair had changed. Her elegant coiffure was gone and had been replaced with the usual simple braid, which indicated to me that she had been involved in something more vigorous than dancing—possibly the fight in the servants' quarters.
She'd been gathering evidence all evening, and wanted the opinion of the Inquisition's advisors on the next step.
I advised her to support Grand Duke Gaspard, of course, as he seemed the most sensible choice. In the coming months, the Inquisition will need the support of the army of Orlais, and he was the man most likely to bring that necessary strength. Evelyn always says she does not want the Inquisition to be an army, but sheer force was what we needed at Adamant, and we will need even more in the future, as Corypheus's power grows.
We each gave her our opinions—Josephine continuing to support Celene, with Leliana, to my surprise, in favor of potentially allowing Celene to die in order for Briala to take power. I have not known Leliana long enough to say if this ruthlessness is something new, but Josephine looked shocked, and she has known the Seneschal longer than any of the rest of us.
"You cannot stop Corypheus without a decision," pushed Leliana. "You must support someone, or all is lost."
The Inquisitor began tapping her foot impatiently. For that moment she was no longer the elegant noble, but instead the strategist, and I could see her twisting things around in her head. She would probably say she was "analyzing evidence."
"It doesn't fit together yet." She crossed her arms. "I need more information, more ways to see what is really happening."
"If there is truly proof Gaspard is in league with Corypheus, that would be a start," I suggested.
"What did Duchesse Florianne tell you?" Leliana asked.
"She said Gaspard's mercenary captain is in the Royal Wing. That he knows about the assassination."
"Which could be a trap," I interjected.
"Or a lead," Josephine, always the optimist, said. "Either way, you should search the private quarters in that wing for clues."
"Then get me access, and Cullen, in the meantime, get your soldiers into position." Finally, some orders to follow, something I could actually do.
"At once," I agreed. "Be careful, Inquisitor."
I did as she asked, and our men were moved into place to anticipate an attack, but as the appointed hour for the Empress's speech grew near, Evelyn did not reappear. Finally, to my immense relief, she emerged from the door to the Royal Wing, pulling her shirt into place.
"Thank the Maker you're back!" I nearly ran up to her. "The Empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?"
"Wait here, Cullen," she smiled. "I'm going to go have a word with the Grand Duchesse."
"What?" I snapped. "There's no time. The Empress will begin her speech at any moment!"
She walked down onto the ballroom floor, straight up to where Gaspard, Briala, and Florianne stood on the dais at the top of the stairs, waiting for Celene to appear on the balcony above.
"We owe the court one more show, Your Grace," Evelyn called up, her voice echoing up from the marble floor. The crowd gasped and tittered at the strange interruption.
Florianne turned around, her face serene beneath her mask.
"Inquisitor."
"The eyes of every noble in the Empire are upon us, Your Grace. Remember to smile." Evelyn began to stalk up the stairs towards the Grand Duchesse, who backed up slowly towards the balcony. "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you'd lost control."
"Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?" she asked, her confident voice contrasting with her retreat.
"I seem you recall you saying," Evelyn spoke loudly enough for all to hear, "that 'All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike.'"
She put her hands behind her back, no longer an elegant noblewoman but instead the leader of the Inquisition, and circled around Florianne.
"When your archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance." The words were polite, but the tone was menacing. As the Inquisitor spoke, Empress Celene had emerged onto the balcony and was listening intently.
"It's so easy to lose your good graces," the Inquisitor spat, circling even closer. "You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary. I have collected…extensive evidence of your treachery."
"It was an ambitious plan. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds…all your enemies under one roof."
"This is very entertaining, but you do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?" Florianne looked pleadingly up at Celene.
"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, Cousin," Celene said coldly.
Celene's guards descended towards Florianne, and despite her protests, Gaspard and Briala walked away. The Inquisitor stood in front of her, blocking any escape.
"You lost this fight ages ago, Your Grace. You're just the last to find out."
The guards drug the sobbing woman away, and Evelyn, every inch of her the Inquisitor, looked up at the Empress.
"Your Imperial Majesty. I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere."
The court was in an uproar while they were gone. Several ladies, possibly overwhelmed by the tension and the constraints of their garments, fainted. The Council of Heralds drew together, guards surrounding them. Frantic trips were made to the punch bowl, and everyone was fanning themselves. It was…absurd.
Leliana came up next to me, a speculative expression on her face.
"Your Inquisitor never ceases to amaze me, Commander," she said. "Shall we see how this shakes out?"
"She's not my Inquisitor, Leliana," I said coldly.
"Isn't she?" she smiled sadly. "Well, that's a shame. Perhaps—"
She was interrupted by Celene and Briala's return to the balcony. Celene gave a triumphant speech about a new era of cooperation, bestowing a title upon the elf at her side, and, to everyone's surprise, Briala spoke as well.
"This is interesting," Leliana whispered in my ear, "the Inquisitor appears to have brokered some kind of agreement that includes the elves." In that moment, I had even less concern for politics than ever. I am sure no one else would be able to tell, but as she stood at the Empress's side, I could see Evelyn was exhausted.
"When we get back to Skyhold," I whispered back to Leliana, "remind me to buy a plant."
From Inquisitor Trevelyan's personal journal:
I had thought to escape the crush of the crowd and the overwhelming smell of perfume when I slipped onto the balcony, but I was quickly followed by Morrigan, Celene's "occult advisor," or whatever she calls herself. Celene has made us the dubious gift of Morrigan's services and expertise. The woman hinted to me about the possibilities of ancient magic and lore, and honestly, at any other moment, I might have been interested in exchanging information. Just then, though, she seemed like just another mage tampering with unknowable forces, and after the evening I'd had, I was just…done. I was polite as possible, and she went away pleased. I was mostly pleased that she'd gone away.
As she left, she brushed past Cullen, giving him a searching glance, but continued on her way. As soon as she was gone, I leaned up against the rail of the balcony and sighed.
"There you are! Everyone's been looking for you." He approached, and leaned on the balcony next to me. "Things have calmed down for the moment. Are you all right?"
"I'm just worn out. Tonight has been…very long."
"For all of us," he sighed. "I'm glad it's over."
He reached up and rubbed my shoulder. I covered his hand with mine, just for a moment.
"I know it's foolish, but I was worried for you tonight."
"Thank you, Cullen. Leliana wants me to go to the Chantry in Valence with her when we are done here," I sighed. "We will probably set out from the chalet tomorrow." I wanted to go on another walk through the garden with him, perhaps talk about what had upset him so much the day before, but…
He nodded, no sign of disappointment in his face. I am the Inquisitor and he is the Commander, and we do what we must.
Strains of music and laughter poured out of the ballroom. Who could blame them for celebrating? Stability would hopefully return to Orlais, and none of them needed to lift a finger to make it happen.
We stood in silence for a minute or two, until Cullen suddenly said, "I may never have another chance like this, so I must ask."
I turned to him in surprise. He bowed to me and extended his hand, and asked, smiling a most sincere, vulnerable smile, "May I have this dance, My Lady?"
I took his hand, my heart beating very quickly.
"Of course! I thought you didn't dance." He pulled me flush against him, wrapping his arm around my waist. I didn't have the heart—or the motivation—to tell him that our bodies were pressed together most improperly for the waltz.
"For you, I'll try." And he did, continuing to hold me far too close. I could see his pulse beating in his neck as he counted the steps, and I realized then that we were clearly visible from the ballroom, and he didn't care. So I waltzed with my suitor at the Empress's ball, and even though my hair was a mess and I had someone else's blood under my fingernails, it was more wonderful than I had ever dreamed, even when I was ten.
I am, of course, quite desperately in love with him, and have been for some time. I think there is a chance that he might return my regard, but perhaps one must embark upon such confessions for their own sake, not seeking reciprocation. At that moment, though, I was too tired to broach the subject, and leaving for Valence Cloister the very next day, so it had to wait.
When the music died down again, he held me for several seconds too long, then released me.
He cleared his throat, and asked, "Shall I have Josephine pull the carriage around to take you back to the chalet?"
I nodded, suddenly groggy, and added, "Would you come with me?" He hesitated for a moment, and I added, "Cullen, I'm thirty-four years old, my parents don't care about my virtue, and I am exhausted. Please?"
He smiled, then, said, "Absolutely, Inquisitor," and made his way off to Josephine.
On the way home, I crawled into his lap. He stroked my back and told me that he wanted a plant, so I said I'd bring him something up from the garden, and then fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. When we arrived, he carried me inside and tucked me into bed. I hope my maid was scandalized, but she's probably seen much worse.
