"Festis bei umo canavarum, woman! You're in a library!"

Josephine covered her mouth as she entered the library, and looked to her left to see a handsome mage, sitting on a chintz chair reading a book by the window. He looked thoroughly annoyed as he shifted, the various fabrics of his robes shimmering against the light.

"And what has gotten up that ruffled skirt to cause you such a fit?" Dorian smirked at her, before standing and heading to her, "Have you finally tested the 'Grey Warden' stamina, dear Ambassador?"

Josephine's mocha skin darkened as she blushed, "Shush! I will not have you slandering Blackwall's name, or mine, Tevinter."

The Altus' mage grinned, "My dear Josephine, I was not slandering. I was merely stating facts… or perhaps predicting the future? At any rate, why are you shouting yourself hoarse? You would not be able to speak to our guests if you lose your melodious voice."

"It's the Inquisitor, she's hiding again." Josephine said, "She said she hadn't seen the sketches for the dress she was going to wear, but I could see now that she had lied. And now she's gone. Has she been through this way, Dorian?"

Dorian smirked, "If the designs presented to her were the ones you found here in the library, then I would understand why she hid. The dresses were so old fashioned… and the colors! Egad! And you are confused as to why she would be gone?" He shook his head, "At any rate, she isn't here. Did you ask Solas if she had passed his room?"

"He said she didn't come through." Josephine said.

Dorian spread his arms and laid a hand on Josephine's shoulder to usher her out, "Ah! There it is then. If the elf says he did not see him, then he didn't. Solas hardly lies, remember? Perhaps you have taken the wrong door, and she headed off towards the gardens, yes?"

Josephine nodded dejectedly, "Alright… I'll look for her there. If you see her, please tell her that this is an urgent matter."

The man nodded as he opened the door for her, "It'll reach her, I'm sure. Do have fun looking for her." He grinned at her as she walked away, the golden fabric of her skirt shifting, before she headed down the stairs again towards the hall. He breathed out a little before closing the door.

"Is she gone, Dorian?"

He smiled as he walked back towards his chair, seeing the half of Idril's face peeking at him. At the sight of her, he grinned and pulled on his chair a little to give room for the elf, before settling down on it again. "Gone, but will return, I am afraid. But the dresses she had planned for you are rather horrid, aren't they?"

Idril groaned as she moved out of the back of his chair and settled on the window sill near him, "Puffed. Skirts. There is no way in Thedas I am going to wear a puffed skirt. What if we do meet the assassin and we'd have to fight him? What am I supposed to do, cage him in my skirt until we get back to Skyhold?"

"We could make the hoops to be made out of iron and add a lock to it. But then you wouldn't be able to dance." Dorian joked, and she grinned at him. "And you would be giving the man a peek at your smallclothes. Not that he'd dislike that, I'm sure."

Idril laughed little, "Well, I'm sure you would dislike that."

"And see the rare, pinkish arse of the Herald? I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be sure to describe it properly if I could… Maker knows your admirers would love that." Dorian grinned again at her, and she laughed a little louder, before she uselessly smacked his hand. "Anyway, what shall we do with you, to keep you hidden from the wrath of Josephine, hmm?"

"I don't care where you hide me, as long I don't have to wear that stupid, puffed skirt."

"Ah, perfection! There is a place I could hide you then!" Dorian exclaimed as he stood up and took her hand, "Come, I know just the place for you to hide."