The woman paced impatiently by the door, her board tight against her chest, wringing her hands nervously. It was only when she heard the shuffling by the inside of the door that she finally stopped her movements and arranged herself to be more presentable.
Idril came out of the door, still yawning a little, but at least looking pleasant with her hair in a bun at her head, and with a hint of color at her white skin. At the sight of her Ambassador, she nodded and headed to the throne of her great hall, where there was, thankfully, a cup of coffee by the side. She took a seat, and sipped her coffee, before looking at Josephine expectantly.
The crowd of people in front of the throne silenced when she sat on the throne, and two guards came in, carrying holding on to what looked like a man with a goat horns and a hood. At the sight of the man, Idril's violet eyes widened, and her snowy brow rose up in confusion at Josephine.
"This was a surprise." Josephine admitted, "After you returned from the bogs, we discovered this man attacking. The building. With a… goat."
At the mention of the animal, Idril's cheeks puffed up a little in laughter, but she hid it with a cough and looked at the man as Josephine continued. "Chief Movran the Under. He feels slighted by the killing of his Avvar tribesmen. Who repeatedly attacked you first. What should we do with him? Where… should he go?"
Idril looked at the man before leaning back against her chair and putting her fingers together, "You answered the death of your clan… with a goat?"
The man… Movran, moved forward and chuckled, "A courtroom? Unnecessary! You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as is my custom, by smacking your holdings with goat's blood."
With the blood still in the goat, apparently. Idril thought as she once again stifled her laughter and looking at Josephine, who immediately looked back at her and shrugged, "Don't look at me."
"No foul!" Movran spoke again, "He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with the Inquisition. A red-headed mother guarantees a brat. Do as you've earned, Inquisitor. My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads!" He laughed at his private joke.
Luckily for you, Leliana isn't here. She'd kill you if she had heard that red-headed mother comment. Fine then. Idril thought as she sighed, "It seems our conflict was accidental, Chief Movran, but it can't be repeated. I banish you and your clan- with as many weapons as you can carry- to Tevinter."
At her judgment, the chief blinked, before a smile seemed to brighten his features, and he started laughing, "My idiot boy got us something after all!"
The man continued to laugh as the soldiers took him away, and Idril sighed as Josephine came forward again, "Nicely done, Inquisitor. But now to the other matters at hand, the seamstress has required that we take your measurements for the dress you are going to wear in Halamshiral."
"Dress?!" Idril exclaimed, causing some of the people to look at her in surprise as they had begun to clear out the hall, "You never told me anything about a dress, Josephine!"
The ambassador looked shocked, "I didn't? But I gave a messenger the sketch designs for your dress, Inquisitor. Did you not receive them?"
"No, I didn't." The elf said as she leaned back against the throne looking annoyed.
"Ah, no matter." Josephine said, waving a hand, "I have copies of the designs at my table. Please stay here, Inquisitor."
Idril waved a hand at her, and she walked back to her door, which was the second one on the right of the hall. She headed straight for her table, seeing the designs and took them with her as she exited. But as she neared the throne, she realized that the elf was gone. She groaned as she rubbed her forehead.
"Oh Maker, not again."