"This requires careful planning," Vivienne says gravely. "An event such as this must showcase the power of the Inquisition."

"While serving as an occasion to reward our most loyal allies," Josephine adds.

"And flaunt our impeccable taste," Dorian finishes.

The elf's glance cuts uneasily between the three of them. "I thought this was meant to be a small gathering among friends. To… warm the house?"

"Housewarming, my adorable savage," Dorian corrects. "It's tradition when one installs oneself in a new abode."

"But we haven't installed ourselves in the villa yet. It's still full of spiders."

"Details," Dorian says with an airy wave. "The servants will take care of that."

"What servants?"

"Exactly," Vivienne says. "That is our first order of business. We must ensure your domestic personnel are of the highest calibre, with impeccable references. Fortunately, I have the appropriate connections. I will conduct the first round of interviews myself."

"The catering will require a great deal of forward planning," says Josephine. "The nearest chef of any repute is in Val Firmin. The logistics will be challenging."

The elf gives a nervous little laugh. "You make it sound as if we're mounting a siege."

"Don't be silly, Inquisitor," she says crisply. "Transporting siege engines is far less complicated. You needn't be concerned about the temperature of a trebuchet. But a red wine cannot be stored at the same temperature as a white, to say nothing of a cheese."

"But I don't even like—"

"Pay no attention to him," Dorian says, slapping a hand over the elf's mouth. "He doesn't know what he's saying."

Vivienne scans the curtains in the main hall with a critical eye. "What are your thoughts on upholstery, my dear? I daresay you could do with some advice."

"Thank you," Dorian says coolly, "but matters of décor will remain strictly my prerogative."

Seth glances at him. "And mine, presumably?"

"Hmm," says Dorian.

Josephine is already scribbling away on her ledger. "I will prepare a first draft of the guest list. Leliana will need to review it, of course."

Vivienne hums approvingly. "And I shall see to it the proper introductions are made with merchants in Val Royeaux. The finest cabinetmakers and upholsterers are by appointment only."

"I have thoughts on the menu, Josephine," Dorian says. "The wine list, especially."

"Naturally."

Seth frowns. "Will my input be required at any stage of the planning for my housewarming party?"

There's a beat of silence as all three of them stare at him. "The flowers?" Dorian offers.

"I need a drink," Seth growls.

The discussion continues, and by the time Dorian realizes Seth wasn't joking about the drink, the elf is long gone.

"The Inquisitor appears to be cross," Dorian observes.

"He'll recover," Vivienne says with an elegantly dismissive gesture.

"Like it or not," Josephine says, "he is the Inquisitor. Even a small gathering hosted in his name has profound political implications."

Dorian is less concerned with political implications than with an opportunity to show these Orlesian fops how it's really done. Still, he might have let this get a trifle out of hand. "Excuse me, would you?" he says, and heads off to smooth some feathers.

Cole is just emerging from the tavern as Dorian heads in, and he stops to talk. "Dirthara-ma," he says, emphatically.

"Sorry?"

"Fenedhis lasa."

Dorian frowns. "Cole, are you cursing at me?"

"Yes!" the spirit says brightly. "I'm helping. You said you wanted to learn elven. The Inquisitor is full of so many wonderful angry words today!"

"How delightful," Dorian sighs.

He finds Seth upstairs, brooding broodily with a full jug and an empty pint. "Shouldn't you be on your way to Val Royeaux by now?" the elf says. "To see your tailor or something?"

"Don't worry, there's plenty of time for that." He pauses. "Oh, you were being sarcastic. Silly me. But of course I'll be seeing a tailor, as should you. One must keep up appearances."

Seth pours himself a pint and gulps half of it down in a single go. Then he looks Dorian right in the eye and burps.

Dorian snorts softly. "Very droll, Inquisitor. If you think that's going to get you off the hook, you're wrong."

Seth scowls and drinks the rest of his ale.

"What is this about, amatus? You've done dozens of these events."

"Exactly," Seth says. "This was supposed to be different. I thought the whole point of us buying the villa in the first place was having something that's just for us. The real us, not…" He makes an impatient gesture toward the keep. "Not this."

"This is for us. We'll have the final say on all the particulars. We're simply taking advantage of the connections we have. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Don't you see? If we let Josephine and Vivienne plan parties in our villa, then it's just another outpost of the Inquisition. We might as well hang the Inquisition banner over the balcony right now. I thought… I hoped…" He shakes his head, as if struggling to find the words. "I've been away from my home for so long now that it's not a home to me anymore. When we bought the villa, I thought…"

"That it would be home," Dorian finishes.

"A place to start our new life together, like we said. To get away from all this and just… breathe. I need that, Dorian. I don't think I even realized how badly until we bought the villa, and now…"

"I'm sorry," Dorian says, reaching across the table and squeezing his lover's hand. "I didn't realize you felt this strongly about it. I was just excited to show it off, that's all. To show us off, I suppose. But I should have known you wouldn't want that."

"I just want you," Seth says quietly.

Dorian's heart floods. He leans across the table and draws Seth into a kiss, soft and sweet and full of feeling. "You have me," he murmurs. "And we'll keep the villa just for us."

The relief in those blue-green eyes is so touching that Dorian can't help kissing him again.

"For us," Seth says, "and for the people we care about. When we're ready."

"In which case…" Dorian sits back down. "We ought to feather our little nest as soon as possible, don't you agree? Not for a party, but for ourselves, so that we have a place to retreat when you need to."

Seth smiles. "Does this mean I get a say in the décor after all?"

"Certainly, Inquisitor. I should be happy for your views on all matters of design. Except," he says, "for the rugs."