A/N: A second update today, to help you get past hump day.
To everyone's relief, it didn't come to violence at Halamshiral.
The Spymaster had managed to find away to sneak a squad of Inquisition soldiers into the Winter Palace, but no more than a squad, and each and every one of them had been aware as they waited hidden in the secret passageways long ago built into the palace walls that if it came down to a fight, they would be badly outmatched, even with the inclusion of the Inquisitor and her companions on their side.
Crouched in the dark, resisting the temptation to check her gear one more time, Killeen had wondered if this would be it – this would be the mission where she would achieve the objective at the cost of her own life.
She didn't consider the possibility that she might not succeed at whatever their task turned out to be. The Commander would not throw them against forces that could crush them unless the objective was absolutely vital. Therefore, they would not fail, even if the last man or woman living had to crawl with broken legs to finish off the last enemy with bare hands and teeth.
Every man and woman there shared the same determination, but still, there were quiet sighs of relief when one of the Spymaster's scouts slipped through the narrow corridors to tell them that there was to be, after all, no bloodshed: the assassin had been unmasked, her attempt foiled, and she had been taken away in chains.
And, unexpectedly, word from Lady Montilyet: a keg of ale was being breached in courtyard for the guards and servants to drink to the outbreak of peace. As a gesture of goodwill, and to strengthen ties at all levels between the Inquisition and the Empire, Killeen and her squad should join them.
"One drink," Killeen warned sternly, and led them off.
She herself merely wet her lips with the mug she was offered, exchanged smiles and well-wishes with the nearest foreigners, and slipped back out of the crowd to stroll slowly around its perimeter, raising and lowering her mug occasionally to disguise her careful scrutiny of the Orlesian strangers, her catalogue of exits, her survey of available cover that might conceal, or provide protection from, archers or mages.
Looking up, she saw the balcony far above the courtyard. A figure leaned on the railing, gazing outwards – no doubt over the moonlit lake. A flicker of green around the figure's right hand. The Inquisitor.
Then the Inquisitor turned, looking back towards the Grand Ballroom, and a beam of moonlight caught the softening of her expression, her welcoming smile.
Killian stepped back into the shadows, out of sight of whoever had come to join the Inquisitor.
Whoever. She knew very well who it would be, sharing that moment of success with the Inquisitor with the romantic vista of Halamshiral spread before them and the soft strains of a slow waltz drifting out on the warm night air. Could Cullen dance? Probably. And so he would no doubt take the Inquisitor in his arms and they would turn and step across the slick marble, bodies pressed close and then closer still …
Killian realised she was uncharitably wishing an unfortunately placed potato peel beneath the Inquisitor's foot, and gave herself a mental shake by the shoulders.
They are happy, in this moment.
They deserve to be.
Both of them.
She made herself busy checking on her squad, finding them merry but none noticeably intoxicated, then in another circuit of the garden, just in case.
Hurrying footsteps on the stairs behind her made her turn, hand dropping to her sword-hilt, but it was Cullen who came into view around the corner, looking taller and somehow unfamiliar in a dress uniform which showed off the contrast between his broad shoulders and narrow hips to – Killeen crushed that thought firmly.
Cullen strode toward Killeen, his face lit with relief.
"Ser?" she asked as he took her by the elbow and turned her away from the stairs.
"Please tell me there's something that needs my attention," he said in a low voice.
"No, I –"
"Kill," he entreated, cast a glance back toward the stairs, where Killeen saw three young women in ornate Orlesian dress and masks approaching. "They've been chasing me all night.Please."
It took some considerable effort for Killeen to keep a straight face, but she managed. "There's a – a problem, Commander," she said, inventing wildly, "with the – uh – tack. Of the horses."
"That sounds extremely serious, Lieutenant," Cullen said loudly. "You'd better show me straight away."
The young women showing no signs of retreating, Killeen was forced to lead the way to the stables. Fortunately, the manure scattered across the cobbles and the overwhelming odour of horse was enough to make Cullen's pursuers hesitate.
She and Cullen ducked in to the first door they passed. After a moment Cullen risked a glance outside. "They've gone," he said, and leaned back against the wall with a sigh of relief.
"I've seen you take on a Qunari, two dwarves, and a mule simultaneously," Killeen said. "And the mule was drunk."
"The middle one has a mother," Cullen said. "Lady Montilyet said she was enquiring about my lineage."
"I didn't know you had a lineage," Killeen said. She moved to the nearest stall and leaned over the door, watching a beautiful bay mare lipping chaff from her feedbox. "Don't suppose you managed to pocket an apple up there with the muckety-mucks?"
Cullen joined her, patting his pockets. "I don't, and I've never been more grateful. What had me running was the fact that the mother declared the future mattered more than the past." He produced a slightly crumpled pastry. "This do?"
Killeen took it. "I'm not going to ask why you have a –" She studied it. "Cruesser de pain, aren't these called? in your pocket."
"I was about to eat it when the Inquisitor decided to denounce the Grand Duchess before the whole court," he said. "Dropping it on the floor didn't seem to fit Lady Montilyet's instructions to be on our best behaviour, and I wanted my hands free in case things didn't go to plan." He paused. "Also, your accent is appalling."
Killeen broke off a piece of the pastry and offered it to the mare on the flat of her hand. "Picky, picky. I don't need to be able to speak like Chevaliers to kill them."
"Neither of us need to kill them," Cullen said. "The Empire has pledged support to the Inquisition's aims. Material assistance, too." As the mare ate the crumb of pastry and nuzzled Killeen's fingers in search of more, he reached out to run his hand along the glossy neck. "Nice lines."
"She's a beauty," Killeen said. "Look at her hocks. Her gait must be like riding on air."
"Only the best for the royal court," Cullen said.
"Poor thing." Killeen rubbed the mare's forehead. "Sentenced to a life of walking silly girls around the park. I'd give my eye-teeth to take you home, but I can't. Sorry. Perhaps when Commander Cullen marries advantageously you can teach his noble-born off-spring to ride."
Cullen snorted. "Nugs will fly over Val Royeaux, first. Not one of those girls could speak a sensible sentence to save their lives."
"Is that why you were fleeing in such a state of panic? Fear of boredom?"
"Fear of being caught by them somewhere without independent witnesses," Cullen said, and when Killeen gave him a blank look: "It wouldn't matter whether or not I had proposed marriage, Kill, if a girl and her friends swore I did. For the sake of the Inquisition's reputation, I'd have to … go through with it."
"Maker," Killeen said, and the mare flicked her ears at the vehemence in Killeen's voice. "Sorry, my lovely, it's all right, my darling, I'm sorry. There. There now." Careful to keep her voice low, she went on: "It didn't even occur to me."
"It didn't occur to me until Lady Montilyet warned me and I've been in fear of my life – or at least my future – ever since. Can you imagine spending your life with one of those painted princesses?"
"Well, yes," Killeen said judiciously, "I think she'd be very decorative, and watching her learn to clean armour, mend harness tack, and scrub out latrines would be wildly entertaining."
Cullen chuckled. "Somehow, I don't think it'd work out that way."
"You have no imagination," Killeen said. She gave the mare a parting pat, and reluctantly stepped back. "Come on. They should have given up by now, and if they haven't, I'll protect you. And the Inquisitor will be wondering where you are."