After many pokes and lots of tugging, Nethra settled on a long dark green gown for the trip to the Winter Palace. Golden accents hung from the bottom of her deep brown corset, and a dazzling necklace was placed around her neck, her hair tied and braided up into an updo. Josephine had it designed so that the skirt could be taken off, to which the Inquisitor would be wearing leather trousers underneath. The rest of her armour would be packed into a wooden crate and smuggled into the palace.
"It's beautiful, truly." Josephine grinned with a rosy blush. She was a romantic at heart - everyone knew that.
"Thank you, Josie."
The door to the antechamber opened, revealing the Commander in the uniform the councillors were all wearing: a satin red tunic with a blue sash and golden accents. It was strange to see the Commander out of armour again. Normally the clunky metal would cover up his rippling muscles from years of training, but tonight his getup only accentuated them. Nethra pried her eyes away from his body to meet his eyes, which also seemed to be having their own struggle.
"I-Inquisitor. The carriages are-"
"Doesn't she look lovely, Commander?" Josephine grinned like a madwoman. The blond man calculated his words carefully.
"Y-yes. It is an exquisite dress." He forced out, looking at the ground.
"The dress, yes - but what about the Inquisitor?" The chief diplomat pushed.
"The carriages are ready for us." He said quickly before turning around and marching out.
"He doesn't like it." Nethra mumbled. Before Josephine could argue, the elf spoke once more. "I'll meet you out there, Josie."
The carriage ride was terrible. Between whacking her head off the interior every time they rolled over a rock and the motion sickness, Nethra would have greatly preferred to ride her horse to the palace, but Josephine told her time and time again that it was not an option. The elf sat across from Josephine and Leliana, while the Commander sat beside her. Josephine was talking quietly about their behind-the-scenes plans for the night, while Cullen stared out the window silently, leaving Nethra to twiddle her thumbs.
Just before their arrival, the quad went over their plans for the evening once more. "Remember, the most important thing is to keep the Empress alive, Inquisitor. However, we cannot go barging in yelling that there's an assassin. We must play the Game." Cullen scoffed at Leliana's advice. He hated the Game, and always will.
"I'll be in the Ballroom coordinating our soldiers if anything arises. Do not be afraid to utilize our soldiers, Inquisitor. Your armour should be available immediately to the right of the entrance if you need it."
"Thank you, Cullen."
The carriage stopped, and everyone exchanged glances. "Look alive everyone," Josephine clapped, causing Cullen and Nethra to jump. "There will be plenty of people trying to control you, but please stick to the plan and let us know if anything falters it."
Nethra nodded before her door was opened by a soldier, revealing a massive lawn filled with fountains and Orlesian décor. She could hear Cullen scoff behind her. The luxury was a turn off for him. It probably came from growing up with just a bed and a table his entire life. Nethra felt the same, if she was being honest. All of the unnecessary sculptures that screamed 'I'm rich' bothered her. She would be content with a small house in the woods, but she also wasn't Orlesian nobility.
The first few hours were just posturing, meeting nobles, and listening to gossip. Nethra hated it. She hated all these people who turned their noses up at her, criticizing everything from her dress to the freckle beside her mouth. They always said things with alternative meanings, and it made her feel foolish for not understanding what they were. At least Leliana was enjoying herself, giggling about slippers in her corner. Cullen, however, was not. Every time Nethra passed him, a new Orlesian was either trying to grope him or ask him if he was single. Evelyn had been through almost every part of the palace she could think of, defeating mysterious mercenaries and collecting a ridiculous amount of halla statuettes. She had just finished dancing with the Empress' cousin Florianne, who hinted that some information was hidden in the royal wing. Immediately after, all three of the councilors were gathered in front of her, discussing what to do next.
They decided to have Nethra investigate the building once more, to pick up any clues before addressing the Empress. It didn't take too long to spot a harlequin attempting to assassinate an elven servant, claiming it was the Duchess who is planning to assassinate the empress. They brought her to the guards for safety before returning to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen.
Leliana suggested letting the murder play itself out in order to bring a more peaceful empire. Cullen wanted nothing to do with this.
"We came here for a reason – to save the Empress." He stated firmly.
"I have to agree with Cullen on this one. The Empress' death is something Corypheus wants. We need to stop it." Nethra mumbled, ignoring the Orlesians glancing slyly at her.
"Very well. Let us know when you are planning on addressing the Empress." With that, they split up once more.
"Cullen, wait." Nethra grabbed his shoulder softly before he could return to the blushing Orlesians hanging around his self-proclaimed corner.
"What is it?" He asked, almost desperate to talk to anyone besides the women who were hounding him.
"We told the elven servant to meet the guards by the west entrance to the ballroom. Are they still posted there?"
"Yes, of course. Is that all?" His voice was level.
"All that I know of. Is there something I'm…" He shrugged her off, returning to his post.
'That was weird,' she thought. She turned toward the Vestibule entrance before she was stopped by a masked woman.
"What is a lion doing with a stray cat, I wonder?" She spoke smoothly.
"A what?" Nethra frowned.
"Plenty in the pride, yet a mutt wanders in and steals his eyes. Must be pity." The woman pushed past Nethra rather aggressively before striding over to Cullen, smirking back as she touched his arm. Nethra looked away. There was business to do.
She rushed up to the balcony the Empress was standing in, pushing past the Ladies-in-waiting.
"Your grace, by now I'm sure you know that there will be an attempt to murder you tonight. Until now, we did not know who that was. I, along with my comrades have discovered from multiple sources that it is your cousin who wishes to draw her blade."
"Well met, Inquisitor Ashanril. I will have her detained immediately to await trial. I will have the Inquisition paid a large sum for protecting the empire. I had my suspicions, but they were always outshined by Gaspard." She gave a signal to one of her guards, prompting him to rush through the crowd inside. "I offer you my army, Inquisitor. Thank you."
After many gasps and awes following the reveal of Florianne's true intentions, the crowd filtered out slowly. Nothing that night would top the almost-murder of an empress. Nethra was walking back to the ballroom when she heard a rip sound from behind her. She turned to see yet another spiteful Orlesian woman, but this time her pointed shoe was placed on top of the dark green velvet of Nethra's dress.
"Oops." The woman threw her hand over her mouth in fake surprise. She walked off towards Cullen, but not without bumping Nethra's shoulder harshly. Nethra balled her fists up. Now was not the time to start a fight, but this was getting ridiculous. She turned to yell at the woman, but was cut off by a wet liquid splashing onto her face and chest.
"Oh my, I did not see you there, madam!" A tall Orlesian woman with a now empty wine glass spoke in fake-shock. Nethra stood there, red faced, and shocked. She could not take it anymore. She rand to the nearest balcony, slamming the doors behind her as tears began to run down her face. She made it to the railing, leaning over it as she sobbed.
She knew she would stick out like a sore thumb here, but this was overwhelming. She could handle fighting people, dealing blows with magic, but social warfare was something else entirely.
Something shined out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see yet another statuette of a halla. They were scattered all across the Maker-forsaken palace. She grabbed the halla's leg, bringing the statuette closer to her.
"This is all your fault," She mumbled through tears, "if you hadn't shown up, I would've been more prepared for this joke of a ball." She stared for a moment longer before her anger got the best of her. She began whacking the small statue off of the balcony railings. "Stupid!" whack "Blighted!" whack "Dread Wolf loving!" whack "Piece of…!" She ended up throwing the figurine into the gardens below. She screamed into the night, frustrated and tired.
"That was…interesting." A familiar voice sounded from behind her. Nethra jumped immediately, but she refused to turn around and allow him to see her tear-stained face.
"I thought I was alone." She mumbled, clutching the railing. "What are you doing here? I'm sure there are plenty of people waiting for you in the ballroom."
Cullen let out a nervous laugh. "Yes, well, I came out here to be alone too. Away from everyone."
"Then I'll just leave-" Nethra turned to open the door, but Cullen's gloved hand softly grasped her arm.
"'Everyone' does not mean you." He murmured. Nethra looked up at him slowly, but as soon as she did he noticed her tear-stained cheeks. "What happened?" His hand moved from her arm to cradle the side of her face.
Her face began to heat up. She hated it when people saw her vulnerable. She leaned forward, pressing her face into his chest. "Orphshhsns."
"I'm sorry?" Cullen let out a chuckle.
She turned her head to the side. "Orlesians."
"Ah," He sighed, looking up at the night sky while placing a hand on her side, "I understand completely. At the very least, the ball is almost over. Speaking of…" The blond man backed away for a moment before bowing and extending a hand, "can I have the final dance?"
Nethra stared at him blankly. "Cullen, you don't have to ask just because you feel sorry for me-"
"I've been planning this all night, Inquisitor. Please don't refuse. I even asked the musicians to play the music for a little longer." He jested with a smile.
Nethra gave a soft smile. "I suppose the last song mustn't go to waste, then." She took his hand, which slowly pulled her closer to him. He put one hand on her hip as they swayed together.
Their feet moved in rhythm clumsily as the music rose and fell. Nethra was surprised at how much better he was at dancing.
"Do you remember when Ser Althestar snuck his fiddle into Kinloch?" Nethra smiled at the memory. The entire floor was dancing all night, much to the higher ranks' displeasure.
"I hope I'm a little better at dancing than I was back then." Cullen chuckled. He'd bruised her feet for weeks from stepping on her during the dance.
"You? Definitely. I, however, feel as though I got worse."
"Nonsense." The blond man grinned as he swung her into the air, safely landing her on the other side of him. "See? You can dance!" Cullen even threw in a couple twirls which made Nethra laugh. Their smiles slowly fell.
"You look beautiful tonight."
"Oh, you say that after my dress became ripped and stained?" Nethra smirked.
"I was going to say it earlier, I was just…surprised."
"Surprised? Did you not think I was capable of looking decent?"
"You look more than decent! I just…" He turned his head away. The moonlight hit his face and Nethra swore she could see his cheeks redden. "Maker's breath, I'm not good at this, am I?"
The music slowly faded out, leaving the two standing motionless, still in each other's embrace.
"I suppose we should get back-"
Nethra tightened the grip on his hand quickly. "Can we stay like this? Just for a moment."
Cullen's shoulders fell as a soft smile rose on his face, "Of course." He wrapped one arm around the elf's waist and the other over her shoulders, pressing her head into his chest. Nethra gripped the sides of his jacket, breathing in his scent.
They stood there, sharing each other's warmth for what only felt like a few minutes, yet they both perked up when a hand rapped on the other side of the balcony doors. They peered over to see an Inquisition soldier. The soldier slowly opened the door. "Pardon the intrusion, but our carriages have arrived."
Nethra passed out as soon as her bottom touched the bench of the carriage. Her soft snores filled the otherwise silent carriage ride. Leliana and Josephine were too busy smirking at Cullen to talk about the plans for Celine's army and the Inquisition soldiers. He was sweating under their stares, his eyes darting around to look at anything but the Inquisitor. The carriage hit a rather large rock, causing the whole thing to shake. Nethra's head rolled from the interior wall to Cullen's shoulder, causing his face to heat up even more.
"Leliana, didn't you say there was a scout that needed to be spoken to?" Josephine smiled craftily at the spymaster.
"Why yes Josie, I do recall saying that. Perhaps we should find him now before we forget."
"Yes, I think so too."
Cullen opened his mouth to argue, but they hopped out of the carriage before he had the chance. The door's slam caused Nethra's eyes to flutter open. She groaned softly, nudging her head into Cullen's shoulder. Then she paused.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Cullen." Her voice was raspy from sleeping. She pulled her head up.
"It's alright." He said grabbing her head and leaning it back onto his shoulder.
"Mmf…maybe I am just a stray cat." She mumbled groggily. Cullen frowned. What was she talking about? "I'm not a good leader, am I?"
"Whatever the Orlesians in the palace said to you, they're wrong." He muttered.
Nethra sighed in defeat. Eventually the two dozed off together, snoozing for the rest of the carriage ride.
Listen guys, I might just keep this story to myself if no one cares enough. I really like to see comments but it's been disheartening the last few times I've posted :( please comment, I'm lonely!