Sneakery

A servant collected her for dinner. The inquisition's servants and soldiers presumably ate their dinner where the comtesse's servants ate, so it was the comtesse and the Inquisition at a large dining table. Ennaly was very glad for all the etiquette lessons Josephine had forced upon her, because they were the saving grace here.

There were still some foods she couldn't quite appreciate, but at least she knew what silverware to use, and entertained the comtesse in polite conversation. After a dessert of some kind of set cream with a caramel layer on top – very tasty, she decided – they had a cup of tea before retreating back to their rooms.

There, she dressed in a simple nightshirt and covered up with a way too frilly wrapping gown that was made available to her. It trailed over the floor and the sleeves were slightly too long, but it provided just enough warmth.

She went to her balcony. It was a lovely spring evening. It looked out over the mansion's courtyard, a beautiful garden with marble statues, a large fountain, and trees and flowers all around. It smelled like jasmine, sweet and flowery in the night air. She didn't know how long she sat there, musing and lost in melancholy, when she startled from a sudden movement to her left.

Warm fingers pressed against her lips just as she instinctively wanted to yell out.

"Don't scream," a hushed voice whispered in her ear.

She turned her head, heart beating in her throat. "Solas, you startled me."

"What? Were you not even expecting me, vhenan?" There was a smile on his lips. "You asked me here. The balconies are surprisingly convenient for sneakery."

She pulled him inside and closed the large doors. She looked at him. He was wearing a loose shirt and simple breeches. "If you can do magic, yes," she said. "Who did you leave behind?"

"Dorian. I think he was glad to see me go, honestly. Now he has the room for himself." After a kiss, he leaned against one of the pillars of the canopy bed and observed her sharply. "How do you feel?"

She sighed. "Tired. Emotionally and physically."

"Take that silly thing off and come here, then."

"It is quite silly, isn't it?" she grinned and took off the frilly wrap before she joined him on the large bed. The underside of the blue velvet canopy also had stars embroidered on it. They flickered from the nearby firelight. It was actually quite nice and cosy.

"Come, give me your hand. I can ensure the Anchor will not act up tomorrow at inconvenient times."

She nestled herself against Solas' chest, so he could inspect her hand. It was comfortable and warm with him behind her and the warm covers pulled to her chest. With the embroidered stars above, it was like she was under a real night sky. Solas started to softly chant and sent energy into the mark. It soothed her mind. She was so tired from everything that was going on and felt herself drift off.

"If the Anchor originates from a godly orb, you must be divine too, for having so much power over it," she muttered drowsily.

"Must I, now?" came the answer, before he kissed her exposed shoulder.

"The god of sneakery. How you managed to sneak into my room and into my bed." She completely relaxed against him and let his power soothe her.

"I prefer the word rebellion," he whispered in her ear, but Ennaly had already fallen asleep.


Ennaly was woken when a few servants entered the room. Solas had left. She didn't know when, if he'd left after she'd fallen asleep, of had simply woken before her and left in early morning. She had a quiet, dreamless night and she suspected she had Solas' magic to thank for that.

The servants brought her breakfast to eat in the chambers while they were filling her a bath. She was bathed, scrubbed, and rubbed with oils of alluring floral and spiced scents. Her hair was cleaned and set in metal tubes, warm from being heated by the fire. Her fingernails and toenails got tended and lacquered purple. All the servants were Elves and seemed quite skilled in what they did.

The best thing she could do was just to give in. The worst part was when they went near her face with coloured liquids and powders matching her skin tone. They gave her a stick of lipstick to reapply, if necessary, a rosy, pink colour. Her hair was beautifully braided on top and decorated with golden pins, while loose curls fell over her back. It fell over her back, left bare in the dress, her skin only showing when she was moving.

The dress, of course, was gorgeous, now complete with the pieces of ceremonial armour attached. She looked more shapely than she normally did, dressed in loose tunics and her breasts slightly flattened by the wrappings to keep comfortable during travel and fighting. The dress was made for Elves, after all, and the shape did her figure more justice than a human gown would.

All in all, it took hours before she done and could look at herself in the mirror. For the fact there was something on her face, she considered it the other way around. She had the purple lines of her Vallaslin for nearly half her life now. Seeing herself without, for they were covered by make-up, she felt bare, and in a weird sense, vulnerable, like the lines had been an ever-present mask to hide behind.

Josephine and Leliana entered her room, both wearing gorgeous gowns, Josephine still with her ambassador's chain, and Leliana with golden pauldrons like Ennaly. They were gushing over her and took her downstairs, where most of the others were already waiting.

"At least I am glad we are wearing ceremonial armour," Cassandra said, picking at the fastening of a decorative bracer.

They were all wearing outfits in mostly black, with white and gold accents and a purple sash, her colour. They looked like an organized force, while each still had their personal flair to their outfits. They were all wearing black knee-high boots, even, Ennaly saw to her surprise, Solas. She'd only ever seen him in attire with his toes visible, like herself.

Cassandra's outfit consisted of white breeches and a long black coat that flared out like a skirt, with armour pieces on top. Varric wore a coat and shirt not unlike his normal style, just in formal fabrics, and Bull… It was quite remarkable seeing him in a black, straight-necked coat with golden epaulettes as opposed to his normal bare chest. Dorian was wearing an asymmetrical suit, the most lavish of all their outfits, just as she would have expected.

Weirdly enough, it was least strange to see Solas in his formal outfit, considering all the outfits she'd seen him wear in the Fade, and helped take off. If anything, this outfit was less elaborate than what she'd seen him wearing before, if only because the magical effect of the fabrics couldn't be replicated. He was dressed in a black shirt with white wide sleeves, cuffed at the wrist. Even so, the cut of it, the neckline, it looked Elven.

Dorian found his way to the bottom of the stairs, bowed, and took her hand. He spun her around in a circle, allowing the skirts to flare out. He stopped her right in front of Solas.

"You look delightfully radiant and astonishingly beautiful, milady Inquisitor," he said, kissing her hand. "Doesn't she?" he added sharply, looking at the Elf next to him.

"Naturally," Solas said, casually leaning against the banister. "Though that hardly came as a surprise."

Solas and Ennaly shared a look. Ennaly grinned. She could see love, lust, longing in his eyes. But there was something more. Almost as if he was holding his breath in surprise. Was it because her Vallaslin was hidden now? Did she appear more beautiful to him without?

"Well, you both look very handsome too," she said. "I just feel naked."

"Naked? Your dress isn't that revealing," Dorian replied.

Ennaly looked annoyed and pointed at her cheekbones. "My face is naked. I feel like a city Elf. I've had my Vallaslin for half my life now."

"Your prettiness isn't tied to a few purple lines on your face," Dorian replied.

"But part of my identity is."

Solas just looked at her, not saying a word, but there was some sincere intensity to him, with that undertone of sadness. Perhaps she had been insensitive. Her remark about her missing Vallaslin might not have been very compassionate to a non-Dalish Elf. It might have sounded as if she considered herself less now, and by extension, him.

She wanted to say something to him, but the sincerity in his eyes took her breath away. His eyes glided over her body and a smile appeared back on his face. The design of this dress came from a sketch of him. Perhaps it wasn't her Vallaslin at all that prompted the reaction in him, but simply her attire. She'd worn less elaborate versions of this in the Fade on their adventures, but that had been the Fade. It was different.

"By the way... Hope you had a nice night." Dorian said, almost spitefully, but softly, so only they could hear him. It earned him a chuckle from Solas. "I could have told on you," he added in a soft hiss.

"And what would that have accomplished?" Solas said quietly, amused. "You enjoyed your private time."

"Seeing you less smug would have been an accomplishment," he shot back.

"But dear Dorian, you are mistaken here," Ennaly said softly, a smile on her face. "He wouldn't have cared. This is a personal favour to me. And I am very grateful for your sacrifices."

Dorian made a clucking noise between dismay and defeat.

Their attention was caught away when Cullen emerged at the top of the stairs, the last person still missing from the group. He looked like a prince from a Human tale, black boots, white breeches, a black jacket and black half cape over his left shoulder, with purple lining and golden embroidery all over. He looked a bit uncomfortable in his outfit and came walking down with uncertain steps.

"Very dashing, commander," Leliana commented. "The court will certainly swoon."

He didn't seem to find much comfort in that. Ennaly saw his eyes glide over her and his expression softened for a moment.

With everyone present, the servants helped them tie on their masks. They were quite similar, fitted for their respective faces, all made out of white porcelain with golden filigree at the edges. In the centre of the forehead, shone the Inquisition's symbol like a third eye of gold. Ennaly's and the advisors' masks had a small plume of purple feathers sprouting above the eye, and on her own were painted purple lines on the white porcelain, mimicking her now-hidden Vallaslin. That way she could still feel Dalish.

They bade the comtesse goodbye. She would not join, since her leg wasn't as good as it once had been and the noise would not sit well with her. She had allowed her carriages for the Inquisition's use, her personal one for Ennaly and her advisors, and her secondary one for the rest of the party. The soldiers would accompany on horse.

The drive to the Winter Palace wasn't too long. Josephine fretted with repeating some last-minute information and worry. They all turned silent as the walls and towers of the winter palace loomed ahead of them, visible from the carriage windows. They had arrived.

Ennaly exited the carriage, flanked by Inquisition soldiers and followed by her advisors. A human man, dressed in ornate armour, wearing a golden mask with a yellow feather – the symbol of the chevaliers, she had learned – was awaiting her in front of a large fountain.

"It is a great pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor Lavellan," grand duke Gaspard de Chalons said to her with a flourishing bow, holding out his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, your Highness. I am grateful for this invitation," she said in return as Gaspard kissed her hand.

"I have heard much of the Inquisition's accomplishments. Imagine what you could accomplish with the full support of the rightful Emperor of Orlais!"

Oh, he was charming. "And which one was the rightful one, again, your Highness?" she replied with a smile.

He laughed and bowed again. She understood the masks. There was something about seeing the glint of an eye through a shadowy socket in a still mask that was exciting. She almost felt drunk, without having had a sip of alcohol.

"The handsome, charming one of course, my lady. I am not a man who forgets his friends, Inquisitor. You help me, I'll help you. My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?"

"The hateful usurper and the Dalish savage," she said, having heard the whispers around her. "I cannot imagine the court has ever seen a pair like us."

He laughed. "You are a woman after my own heart, my lady. As a friend, perhaps there is a matter you could undertake this evening. This Elven woman Briala – I suspect that she intends to disrupt the negotiations."

Briala. Josephine and Leliana told her about her. "You would ask an Elven woman to investigate another Elven woman based on mere suspicion?"

Gaspard seemed to observe her keenly through his mask. "I know you are here because of threats against Celene. And if anyone in this place wishes Celene harm, Inquisitor, it's that Elf. She certainly has reasons."

"I appreciate the information. I will see what I can do, your Highness."

Another bow. "Be as discreet as possible. I detest the Game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains."

"Let us not give them any reason, then." Ennaly shot a glance backwards and her eyes met Josephine's. Silently, the ambassador seemed to signal her so far so good. Ennaly took Gaspard's offered arm and together, they found their way through the palace to the ballroom, where they were expected for their official introduction.

She held her head hight and her back straight as all their titles were called out. Her eyes were on the empress in front of her, wearing a gown of blue and gold, framed beautifully with all the gold and blue decorations of the room.

"Did you see their faces? Priceless," Gaspard chuckled as they were midway through the room. And indeed, there were gasps on the faces of the nobles to their left and right. She wasn't quite sure how she felt being made an accessory to Gaspard's clear pleasure, but he did manage to invite them.

She continued as the other Inquisition members were introduced. She was almost near the end and softly chuckled at Cassandra's displeasure for her long name, when Solas was introduced.

"The Lady Inquisitor's elven serving man, Solas."

What? How rude, that is not what she had suggested. Who had changed this? She couldn't look around at him to see his reaction or make any clear movements, or she would display her displeasure. She had to wait.

She was introduced to the Empress and Gaspard's sister duchess Florianne. They made polite conversation. As the main subjects of the peace talks, the reason the ball was hosted, Gaspard and Celene would be opening the ball. That meant that Ennaly, as Gaspard's invitee, would be required to dance too, together with comte Pierre of Halamshiral as Celene's dance partner.

While waiting for the empress to descent the stairs, Ennaly shot an eye to the others. Solas seemed not to have cared about this introduction and seemed completely at ease here. He shot her an encouraging smile when he saw her looking, before he followed the others back out from the dance floor.

"Let's give them another show, shall we, Inquisitor?" Gaspard said as the band was preparing for the opening song.

"I hope you dance as well as they say you fight, your Highness."

A laugh. "The same goes for you, my lady."

She took his offered hand as the music started. Gaspard was a practised dancer, that was clear, but just as he proclaimed he despised the Game, dancing did not seem a great pleasure to him, and as a result, his dance was an act of the mind, not of the heart.

Who would have ever thought that she, a Dalish mage, would be dancing in the Winter Palace at the hand of a grand duke, with an empress and a comte sharing the floor with her? She could only give it her best. She knew how to arc her neck so it elongated, she knew the subtle movements she could make with her body so the dance turned from an exercise to elegance. She could feel the skirts twirl around her legs as she spun, her bare feet and ankles, adorned with golden medallions tied with purple ribbons, just visible under the billowing skirts as she spun.

She heard the crowd murmuring with surprise.

"You dance better than I expected," Gaspard said to her, guiding her around.

"And you dance exactly how I expected, your Highness," she replied.

He chuckled. "Is that praise or disappointment, my lady?"

"That depends on your final steps, your Highness."

He laughed softly, and as the final tunes of the song sounded, he held his arm high for her spin under, her skirts fanning out unobstructed, and with another move, he supported her waist and dipped her back.

Applause sounded.

"I'll declare it adequate," she said, a smile on her lips, as Gaspard took her hand for a kiss.

"You are more amusing that I anticipated, Inquisitor," he responded. "I do not regret inviting you. If this evening ends at least adequately, I can see a prolonged alliance. We shall see each other at a later time."

He bowed and left the dance floor. She bowed to the empress as she left the dance floor too. The band played a soft tune as an intermezzo while new couples flooded the dance floor. She knew she had to dance the second dance with Cullen, planned so they had a moment to discuss anything that might have come up.

"Josephine and Leliana are very pleased so far," he said, as they were waiting for the song to start.

"I hope I can keep it up." She grinned as the tunes sounded. "Shall I lead this dance, commander?"

He had enough mastery over the dance to follow her lead. She thought they must look good together, a matching colour scheme, and as they spun around, her skirts and his cloak fanned out, creating a full circle together.

There were no concrete suspicions or irregularities yet to discuss. So far it had all gone better than expected. Instead, they listened in on the conversations of the couples surrounding them. The topics were diverse, but the Inquisition was definitely discussed.

Who knew knife-ears could can dance so well? That commander is so handsome, I would like a private dance. Maker's breath, I never thought I needed to share the dancefloor with a rabbit. The Inquisition is well-dressed. Is the Elven savage Gaspard's idea of a joke? She's a pretty thing, I wouldn't mind her scrubbing my bedchambers, if you know what I mean.

Cullen seemed to almost falter in his steps when hearing some of the comments.

"Don't let it get to you," Ennaly said to him softly, taking a firmer lead on the dance. "I've heard worse, and honestly, it was to be expected. Let's focus on the important topics." There was some interesting gossip to be overheard, which Cullen would discuss with the others.

The dance ended. "We'll meet later," she said as Cullen bowed, for a moment uncertain if he had to kiss her hand like Gaspard had done, decided against it, and took his leave. Ennaly's hand instead was whisked away by the next noble. For the next few dances, she chatted with her partners, who ranged from frivolous, to gracious, to a creepy lord who would either hold his hand too high, grazing her bare upper back, or too low, in danger of feeling her up.

She got information during chats, could vouch for the Inquisition's cause, and overheard rumours from other dance pairs on the floor. She would relay that to Leliana when she was done.

She bowed to comte Pierre, her last dance partner, and left the dance floor, to return at a later time. She really wanted to find Solas first, and she would need to sneak around the palace to find out more about the assassin.

She moved between nobles, stopped to chat where the saw an opportunity, listened to gossip, and ignored all negative comments and japes. Recognizing the masks was a great help in knowing where to pause to talk and whom to pass. She met Bull, who was enjoying the foods on offer and kept his eye out on any irregularities. She continued on and was ready to turn the corner to the next corridor, when she heard a familiar voice to her left.

"You looked beautiful on the dancefloor," Solas said, leaning against a pillar in a dark corner. He was holding a glass of dark red liquid, and he almost seemed a little tipsy. His eyes glinted at her through his mask.

She halted and turned to him. "Only on the dancefloor?" she asked with a smile.

She saw him look around in the corridor, and when he deemed it acceptable, he put his glass on the pillar next to him, pulled her closer, realized she had lipstick on her lips, so moved to plant a kiss under her ear. She didn't mind it when his hands moved to her bare back or the curve of her bottom.

"Up close you are irresistible," he whispered. Ennaly could feel her heartbeat increase as he leaned back again and took a sip from his wine. His cheeks were a little flushed.

"You're more comfortable here than I expected," she said, her own flush hidden under the make-up. "They were so rude when they introduced you."

He chuckled. "A title means nothing to me, vhenan. And I do adore the heavy blend of power, intrigue, danger, and sex that permeates these events."

She stared at him. Gods, he was alluring, standing in this dark corner. "I wish I could dance with you here, but I know that's not the fastest way to earn favours."

He held out his hand to brush against her bare arm. Even without magic his touch was electricity. "Let us first focus on the task at hand. I shall keep an eye out on from here. I do not have the look of the Elven servants, or I might well be invisible. I wonder how masked men live their lives without ever seeing that servants have an entire society of their own."

"You keep your eyes open then," she said. "I'm off to do some sneakery. I'm very curious to meet this Briala woman."


Author's Note: I want to thank you for all the reads & reviews! I've found so much joy in writing after such a long hiatus, and here I am already with chapter 19. I forgot how much I missed it. I love Wicked Eyes and Wicked Heart, I've got the next chapters lined up already. I'm sad the game didn't give us any Briala/Solas lines, so I'll just have to write it myself then.