AN: Just a reminder of how much of this I am completely making up because I never was able to get DAI to play on my pathetic little laptop...Also because for some reason my sister thinks I should mention it, I don't have a nice neat little outline. I have moments and ideas how they will react to them and have to make up everything in between with no idea how to get from one to the other. For instance, I have ideas for the Nightmare demon in the Fade, the Well of sorrows, The ball coming..and all the rest of this I'm like well how do I get there?

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Many of the inner circle were trickling in over the next few days. Truthfully Tam was relieved as this meant that not only did he have time to adjust to the sheer chaos that he and his party tended to inflict on various locations simply by existing, but that ideally there was an adjustment period for him personally. Such as to the small and not so small fact that Orlais was a fiddly culture with so many nuances and methods to insult a person, or pay compliments, or backhanded elaborate compliments that could ruin a person...

It was all quite a bit much.

Dorian was his saving grace. The man who had become his beloved even before his lover was patient and explaining in methods that while often humorously bordering on offensive, made far more sense to the Dalish inquisitor. Though how in Thedas Dorian had figured out to compare the courtly 'cliques' to herds of Halla Tam had not the slightest. Numerous tasks kept seeming to appear before him as well. Everything from passing letters, tracking down books, there was a fairly memorable event whilst in the grand University where he was half certain he'd just helped an entire student body either start a cult or elope by proxy.

Honestly with the masks? No way to know.

Fortunately if anything, the notes he found in his gear from Tavaiya and the conversations she had pulled him into as they traveled here set his mind immensely at ease. Clearly at some point she and Dorian had put their heads together, as his Tevinter Altus did not blink one perfect lash out of order that Tam pulled out the notes and consulted them. Mostly they were child's level works. Vague reminders that gender and decency were as easily concealed as the faces beneath the masks. The meanings behind different hues and construction materials. Ways to safely address everyone in the equivalents of Ser and Serrah that were in the native tongue so even if he blundered horribly they would just sniff and look the other way because at least he was attempting it in the language belonging to Orlais.

Also, Dorian mutilating Orlesian accents was something in an entirely new level of laughing so hard one cried. Not once did Tam doubt that his lover did that just to make him forget for a moment the immense task of the looming ball coming towards them with every passing candlemark. The concept of coming early, getting a feel for the way the whirls and eddies of life here happened, was a genius maneuver that had Josephine all over it. He was no longer startling at someone speaking Orleisan words any more when addressing him before they would switch to common. In a way, it was not, entirely, so unlike when the clans would have their massive meetings and the tiny alterations in how various Dalish spoke and had experienced the breadth of Thedas made it almost new dialects themselves.

With so much to concern himself with it was really not much of a surprise that it was well into the afternoon before Tam realized that his hahren had been missing since they returned from lunch. Though Tam wanted most dearly to show Solas a tome he had just run across, once more in the University for a side errand, it was shrugged off easily. Not as though Solas didn't frequently have his own agenda when it came to research that Tam could simply confess towards as boring. He would just have to bring him by another time.

()()()()()()()()()

As it happened, Solas had simply been abducted.

Well it had not been a simple matter. Not if his senses were telling him anything. He gave outwardly no sign of being awake, uncertain as to the long term effects of whatever had been used to render him so swiftly unconscious. Nothing he had ever come across before, that much was assured. He did not even recall an attack, dodging a few common ruffians in the street as he meandered back after Tam and Dorian towards the library, well aware Cassandra was off doing whatever she was to try and work her comradeship with the local chevalier's into something of use for the coming event.

Wait.

The ruffians.

As they streamed past him, in a hurry to escape some masked men cursing at them he had felt a pinch along his arm. Sharp. Sudden. Whatever had been done to him must have been then.

"No wonder you caught such attention." Comes a voice, sultry and rich it is a low alto of a woman. A heavy accent that tugs at Solas's slightly drugged mind still as familiar. "Oh do cease playing asleep, you twitched you know."

Solas ever so slowly lifts his head. He is not playing wandering apostate right now, if anything he will act the part of an 'agent' of Fen'Harel. Because anyone capable of seeing the most minute of bodily twitches when he worked so very hard to hide any tells of his form ages ago is one to be wary of. This is not looking so much like a ransom or botched job.

"Much better." The voice continues and a woman strides into the light where Solas is tied -effectively- to the chair he is on. It is perhaps a small comfort that the chair is at least cushioned and not sending his legs to sleep. She is in a deep brown dress, layers and shawl hiding any defining crest that may have been upon her bodice. Long sleeves, and a completely covered face mask that seems as plain white with but a few tiny blue and violet diamonds running around the brows, with purple where the false lips are. A headdress of sorts folds back from it in matching brown fabric and Solas realizes not a scrap of skin is showing on this woman. Even her hands are in gloves, as shown when she taps a lace fan against her mask.

"Silent are you? No questions for me?"

Solas sees no reason to answer. He had learned most people will talk if you do not fill the void in the air, instinctively adverse to the sound of silence and eager to replace it with words. This time, however, his captor merely waits, that little fan going 'tap tap' a few times more against her mask.

It becomes a game, who can hold out the longest. Whatever the woman hopes to get from him however she will be disappointed, for Solas lived in an era where one would watch a single flower grow and bloom and fade away to while away a good year or more in the manner these quicklings turn to their books.

She settles gracefully into a nearby chair, her fan occasionally tapping at her mask. And in silence, the two merely stare.

()()()()()()()

Sera is many things. There's a whole lot about herself she dislikes, or is not proud of. There are even more she is, it's part of being alive and stuck with who and what you are and making the best of it. But she cannot deny the joy of re-entering Val Royeaux which for so long was her home. This is where she really began to make a name for herself. Where the others started calling themselves Red Jenny and things were small, very small, but still changes it meant something. Sera likes meaning something.

And so when there the first thing she does after checking in with the others is scramble up the roofs and breathes the strange smokey air that is swept clean before you finish inhaling. The sky feels close enough to touch on some of those buildings and up on the 'Theives Highway' Sera feels much more at home.

She loves the Inquisiton, don't get her wrong. They're good people and Tam's a bit too elfy but since he's started letting the Vint into his heart and bed he's been mellowing out. Not that she still doesn't shudder at their magic because people just shouldn't be able to do that but Tavaiya had pointed out once playfully and Varric agreed that most thought Rogues and their stealth and such was a sort of magic. Weirdos.

But still, the Inquisition is doing so many wonderful things. The sort of things Sera dreamed of being a part of but never thought a little nothing like her ever could. She wouldn't change it for the whole of Thedas at her feet.

That doesn't mean being back and feeling that odd sense of knowing exactly what is going to happen and the lack of snobby Elvhen Glory there trying to convince her to sit and get in touch with the earth and going all mystical woo woo on her isn't fucking awesome. Because here she knows what to do and she's going to help her clumsy friends get ready for this stupid event that she still needs to come up with a snicker worthy entrance name for. That means working and there's no time.

Eagerly Sera delves back into the contacts she knows and it doesn't surprise her in the least when a few of the jobs she asks about are taken.

"Sorry Red, Jackal's been leaving a trail of fire behind today since just after first bell. Lips flapping all over about her being back and not being picky about the level of jobs she's doin. She ain't doin it for coin either." Samwise is one of her favorite informants. A good man, in that perpetual bachelor state and happy about it, he's unmatched when it comes to knowing what fingers are ready to snatch purses and sending someone off to do a job and doesn't even claim a huge cut for the information. If the underworld of Val Royeaux has a pulse Samwise is the one with the fingers around it. At least without going into the aspects Sera has no interest in. She's not one for playing thief most the time and assassinations are not her thing at all. Really Sera is better at mischief and setting up for public humiliation which is a very in demand skill in this place as sometimes it's considered far more lethal to a family than a mere death would be.

"Yeah? Whassup with what she's taken, eh?" Sera feels her lips twitch though because for whatever reason -she's neither blind nor stupid thank you- her fellow rogue and Glory Snory have been making eyes at each other for ages now. Seriously she could probably shoot an arrow into all that tension between them and have it just stick like in a hay target. Normally she'd laugh up a storm or sneer too because they're both elves and it's so elfie to do the whole be together for more little pointy brats. Except..

Tavaiya. She gets her. Tavaiya's a little too wild, a lot of rogue. She's so near to Sera's own story while being entirely different but they get each other. And frankly, people get off on the weirdest things. Heck, Sera's been eyeing a cute little dwarven lass that's been showing up and talking magic lately so who is she to cast stones?

But really. She thinks Tavaiya should have tried a few wilder young men first before going for the oldest not half dead and wrinkled elf Sera's ever seen.

Samwise finally shrugs. He's not a smart character, takes time to think things over but it also means what he does remember is scary accurate. In his line of work that means a lot more. "Most everything. Even stuff 'low her level."

Now that makes Sera's brow raise. Usually Rogues achieve a ranking of the sort of jobs they'll do and don't go back down. For instance Sera is above petty thievery but she'd do some middle of the range sort if it's for a good enough cause. It's like asking a master assassin to put sleeping draught in a kid's cup.

For a rogue to go and do everything nearly, especially so very far below their rank..wait..

"What 'bout above?"

Samwise nods. "Still the usual rules. No kids, no innocents.." That usually means servants around here. "But not much else."

Sera purses her lips because the last few times this happened are why she even knew about Tavaiya. The story was spread that it was 'the Jackal's madness' and periodically she'd snap and do everything. It put her on every radar so fast that Sera normally would have sneered except she knew one important thing. Tavaiya cared about the Inquisition. Thought of Tam very fondly. Was looking at old Elvhen Glory's butt far too often.

That same person knew the ball that could make or break things for the Inquisition and her friends was only two days away. This was not the Jackal's madness. This was her making a huge statement equivalent to painting Orlais violet and being found holding the brush. Sera licked her lips, mind racing.

Tavaiya had been adamant she could not be seen as oh!

Not as part of the Inquisition. That didn't mean she couldn't make a statement by proving herself and getting right back in the minds of the Orleisan gossips and then seeming friendly with the Inquisitor and his people!

'Holy shit!' Sera blinked. 'Tavaiya's going to make a blatant declaration to all of Orlais in doing this that the Inquisition can call on her!' It was subtle, sneaky, and Sera may not go for that herself but she could just feel the smirk pulling at her lips. Because this? Yeah. This was good. In a fashion that would make Orlais pay attention Tavaiya would be stating her preference without impeding her own connections. It was a massive endorsement for those who played the underworld.

Sera would not endanger that. "Right. You got my usual?" She finally stated instead and Samwise smiled, unaware that he had been helping the Inquisition all morning already and was about to do more. Fine, Tavaiya could play the subtle angle, Sera was best at the obvious and where Tavaiya would make the nobles humm behind their porcelain faces Sera could ensure the servants knew that Red Jenny had an operative that thought the Inquisition was worth working with.

There'd be no shortage of information and perhaps slipping away to work for them at Skyhold that way, and that was far more Sera's style.

"Of course." Samwise agreed and began explaining to her a few 'mishaps' that needed to happen to humiliate a lesser noble group.