I knew beyond a doubt that this evening was going to be a disaster, even before we had departed for the ball I knew it would all go to shit.

The day had begun appallingly and as the keeper always used to say, disasters come in threes. The morning brought my first disaster. Not immediately, no. Truly, it had began rather nicely. I awoke beside Solas, who was sleeping soundly. His eyes were flickered about, deep in some fantastic dream. His mouth quirked and his eyebrows wiggled sporadically. It was hopelessly endearing. I smiled before I stretched to kiss him awake. He didn't startle, he only hummed groggily as his smile widened and his eyes peaked open.

"Morning," I chirped, kissing him again.

"Good morning," he sighed, his hand lazily stroking my back. He looked out the window momentarily before coming back to me, his eyes more clear and awake. "Good morning," he said again as he bent his neck to kiss me. It was a slow kiss, all full of sleep and desire. He pulled back briefly, his eyes searching mine for permission. I granted it with a more fervent kiss. I held his face close to mine and pushed my body against his. He needed no further invitation. His hands moved deftly, snaking up by bare thigh. I pulled off his shirt and crashed my lips into his as he positioned himself between my legs. We were eager, wanting and Creators... was I ready.

Until there came a knock at the door.

"Ignore it," he rasped, his lips and teeth going back to my neck. I nodded and arched into him, gasping as his hands slipped beneath my...

"Lavellan it's almost midday, we have plans to discuss!"

Blight take Trevelyan and her ungodly ability to destroy a moment.

"It can wait," his voice was raw and I barely smothered my whimper as his fingers circled that sweet spot.

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" she continued, as she knocked on the door again. It was becoming harder to block her out, even if Solas and I were on the verge of pure bliss.

Solas continued his administrations and my body was aching to enjoy it but Trevelyan's persistent knocking and shaking of the door handle thoroughly distracted me.

"Fenedhis!" I hissed, pushing Solas to the side rather uncouthly. I fixed my night shirt as I stumbled to the door and swung it open, but quickly pushed it ajar when I remembered who was currently in my bed.

"Inquisitor," I huffed.

She looked briefly confused, "Are you alright?"

I cleared my throat and closed the door that little bit more, "Fine,"

"You don't look fine,"

I felt my throat tighten in frustration, "What can I help you with, Trevelyan."

"I-Well I just wanted to let you know that we will be discussing tactics for later on... Are you sure everything is alright? Is something wrong?"

I was about to reiterate that I was fine, that everything was completely normal, had Solas not yanked open the door, shirt half buttoned, looking more than slightly irritated. He shot me a hurt glance before turning to the Inquisitor.

"My apologies, Inquisitor, it was not my intention to detain Lavellan," he said, tucking his shirt into his bottoms, nodding and disappearing down the hallway as though he'd never been there in the first place.

Evelyn looked astonished, I imagined I matched her expression.

"Fenedhis..." I sighed, slumping against the door frame.

"Did you two..."

"No," I snapped, "We were interrupted."

She looked guilty for a moment before a smile grew on her face.

"So does that mean you two are..."

"I don't know..." I bit my lip as I remembered shoving him off. Perhaps I had been a little too hasty, uncaring even... It hadn't been his fault, I had wanted to, but once again Trevelyan foiled my chances of love making.

"Well... We're running over final details of the plan in the main hall in one hour."

I nodded and shut the door as she left. I tried to believe that I hadn't really hurt Solas' feelings... but the way his eyes turned down when he left only helped to reassure me that I was wrong.

An hour later I met the rest of the Inquisition in the Main Hall. The plan was simple enough. We show our faces, be polite, gather as much information as we can and hopefully no one would die. Evelyn's voice washed over me. I wasn't paying attention. All I could focus on was the fact that Solas had not looked at me since entering and had, I believe, deliberately stood on the opposite side of the table.

Josephine was saying something about the game, how to play it, how to survive it and all I could think about was how bloody close we'd been. Could nothing just be simple for us? I pictured what he would do if I simply crawled across the table and kissed him. But then was I even entirely sure he wanted that? Last night he'd told me he loved me... I had told him the same. He couldn't have just changed his mind... could he?

"Lavellan?" Leliana calling my name drew me out of my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Is that agreeable to you?" she asked, for the second time by the way she enunciated.

I hesitated, glancing around the table for any semblance of a clue as to what she just asked me. Creators, I really was losing it. Dorian cleared his throat beside me and leaned in to whisper.

"You've been asked to stick to Briala."

"Yes! Yes, that is agreeable." I chirped. Leliana did not look convinced.

"Splendid, then we can all agree on the plan of action and we know our parts to play," Josephine continued. I looked up to Dorian and mouthed a thank you. He simply arched his brow and glanced at Solas, as always, too knowingly. I barely had to look guilty before he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, obviously incredulous. He always seemed to have an instinct as to when Solas and I were in a bother. Not that that wasn't often. Maybe he just got used to my tells.

"Have you two got something you want to share with the class?" Varric chimed as the rest of the inner circle dispersed to prepare for the evening.

I bent my head and rubbed the bridge of my nose. There was definitely a headache forming and I could practically feel Dorian glaring at me.

"You slept with the hermit, didn't you." he said.

"What, no!" I blurted out on instinct.

"You slept with Solas?" Varric hissed.

"No! Of course not!" I tried to laugh it off, make it seem like a joke because even the thought of what had transpired between us was too heavy to think about, never mind admit. Last night I had been full of hope and love and freedom. Now the memory felt ashen, like a mistake, like something about the very thought of Solas loving me was doomed. It frightened me.

"My apologies, Lavellan. I had not realised the idea was so ridiculous to you," his voice startled me from the other side of the room. He was gathering up notes he had made during the meeting, but he did not meet my gaze. He shot a bitter final glance to Dorian before he quietly left.

I was left speechless. Like my heart had just fallen into my stomach.

"Well... As if we needed anything else to make this evening more dramatic than it's already promising to be." Dorian said, folding his arms.

I shook my head and tried to fight the lump in my throat.

"You wanna tell us what that was about, Trixy?"

I couldn't speak. If I spoke I'd cry. I could barely even think, the only thought blaring in my head was that I had hurt him. I had embarrassed him. That's why he had looked so hurt this morning. I had tried to hide him from the Inquisitor. He had noticed. Of course he had, he was smarter than that. But why? Why had I tried to hide it? I wasn't ashamed of it... I wasn't ashamed to say that I loved him.

"I'm in love with him..." I whispered aloud, feeling my heart climb slowly back into my chest.

There was a long heavy silence from the two beside me.

"Maker preserve us..." Dorian sighed before shaking his head and walking away.

I shook my head, as I looked down to Varric, "I love him." I repeated with a defeated shrug. He simply squeezed my shoulder.

"Then fix this." Was all he said. We both stood alone in the hall for a moment longer before Varric passed me one more worried smile and left. Once I was alone, I wiped away the remaining tears that blurred my vision and sighed. It echoed around the tall ceiling and I wondered how much bigger the ball room at the Winter Palace was. I imagined it stretching back for miles, or what seemed like miles, the ends of it only defined by the blurred candles that hung like orbs on the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the Ballroom in Mythals keep. The smell of it, the tension if it. How it seemed to sway with life and music. I allowed myself a smile at the memory of foolishly dancing around with strangers like I had dreamed. I allowed myself to sway back and forth and for my feet to carry me away in a spin as I remembered the rhythm of the music, slow and sweet and dangerous. I closed my eyes and allowed myself another spin, and another, until I could picture the stranger that I danced with. I could see the mask and feel their hands on me and I wondered if this ball would compare.

I stopped myself suddenly. All thoughts of secret caresses and haughty laughter vanished. I was not Mythal's granddaughter sneaking out to her first ball. I was Nevalla, spy of the Inquisition and this was my mission. All foolish thoughts of pleasure and romance vanished and I shook myself. The mission came first, the Inquisition came first. Solas would just have to wait until after this was accomplished for our second heart to heart.

Hopefully he would understand that sometimes, duty must come first.

So there I was stuck in the rafters, the stove was on fire and the Halla was still five feet away.

I thought I had matured past getting myself into such scrapes but no! Here I was about to embarrass the inquisition in front of the entire Orlesian court. Ancient memories of being a noble woman seemed to have flown out the window because I knew with all certainty, Mythal would have my guts for garters had I ever shown such a lack of decorum.

It all started with the locked door. I'd found it when I was snooping around. You can't exactly blame me for that, everyone was doing it, it was a snooping around sort of party. I had ventured into the Royal Quarters while the rest of the Inquisition mingled. Leliana had given me the go ahead with a nod and I was quiet when I wanted to be. Sneaking in was easier than it should have been.

I knew that door lead to somewhere important, I could feel it in my bones but there was not a lock to pick, no handle to kick. It was a door but it needed a different sort of key.

"Halla statues." Evelyn said, fidgiting at her stiff collar. I'd reported back to the main hall where the rest of the inner circle seemed to be lurking. Cullen, Josephine and Leliana shared my confused look.

"The little shelves in the door frames. There must be a pressure release system of some kind. The halla statues lying around open it. We had a door similar back home," she explained.

"You're quite certain it's wise to be snooping behind locked doors?" Cullen scratched the back of his head.

"How else are we to uncover what is really going on here?" Leliana smiled sweetly, she had had that smile fixed on her face since we arrived. Even as she spoke about the empress being assassinated. It was endlessly eerie but I understood her caution. A frown meant a lot in The Game.

"I suppose we should look for these statues, then." I said.

Famous last words. I'd found one in the servants' quarters. The kitchens to be precise, but as I gracefully clambered up the rafters were it was perched I'd knocked a pot of oil onto the flame.

The fire was the most pressing matter at hand. If I didn't put it out then the whole place would burn down and that might put a dampener on the evening, more so than an impending assassination. But just as I was about to shuffle back down to the ground, I saw the shadows of two elves in the doorway.

"Do you smell burning?" Said the first.

I heard the other sniff and clung tighter to the beam as I heard their hurried footsteps come towards me.

They scuttled in, both jumping back in horror when they saw the fire.

"Mythal's tits! Why'd you leave oil on the stove!" Cried the first reaching for the empty bucket in the corner.

"It wasn't me! It's that drunkard of a chef! Blasted shemlen wouldn't know a decent meal if you hit him up the face with it!"

I cringed at their arguing, hoping they wouldn't look up. All it would take was a glance and I'd be made a mockery. Somewhere in my subconscious I could almost hear Mythal's throaty laugh. I ran through the possible explanations in my head. But what would explain this? I would look utterly insane. And there was one thing I learnt fast at this party: Servants talk.

"Hurry up, Damlen! He'll be back soon and no doubt we'll get the blame!" Said the second as he watched his friend struggle at the water pump.

Damlen cursed and moved the pump faster. It spat fresh water into the bucket. "Not like you're doing anything to help!" He shouted.

The two of them struggled to lift the now full bucket of water towards the ever expanding flames and before I realised their foolish plan, it was already too late.

They haphazardly through the entire bucket of water over the flaming hot oil. In a dramatic whoosh, the flames towered towards the rafters. The two sculleries fell back in horror, shielding their eyes from the now uncontrollable blaze.

"You stupid prick!" Cried Damlen.

"Me!? It was your idea!"

"He'll kill us stone dead! Don't you realise what you've done?" Damlen now ran for the old stained cloth that lay across the table. If his plan was to smother that flame, then he was going to need a bigger cloth.

"I haven't done anything! You reached for the bucket!"

"Oh sure, Trevil, just pass the buck!"

"You're always getting me into trouble!"

"If you had just kept an eye on it in the first place!"

"You should have kept an eye on it!"

"Creators keep your voice down!"

"You're the one yelling!"

"Yes because it's always me isn't it, it's always my fault!"

"Yes you make stupid decisions!"

"Well at least I make decisions!"

The argument went back and fourth, neither getting their point across as they kept shouting over one another. It erupted even more when the flames engulfed their sad attempt to smother it. The table cloth burnt up in seconds.

I had to do something, it was getting hot up in the rafters and the flames were licking my skirt. I sighed, and decided to do the only thing I could. In one ungainly motion I lunged and grabbed the halla statue and in doing so, tumbled to the kitchen floor. I hit it with a thud and definitely heard my dress rip, but I had the statue and now the attention of two horrified servants. They were silent for a moment, before Trevil burst fourth.

"It was him, m'lady! It was all his fault! I've tried to keep his clumsiness under control but this is a bridge to far! Shame on you Damlen!"

Damlen looked on in horror. But before either of them could start their perpetual argument again, I shot out my hand and sent out a wave of ice. It hissed in a cloud of steam as it met the flame but finally settled. The stove was charred and dripping wet, but the fire was dead at least.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?" Damlen hissed.

I fixed my grip on the halla statue and held my chin higher.

"That is... none of your concern."

"Its our concern when an apostate falls from the rafters and into our kitchen." Damlen folded his arms and took a step back.

Trevil was still looking in awe at the now extinguished stove.

"Inquisition business. Strictly confidential."

He didn't look convinced.

"Alright then," I said, "let's just say I am a representative of the Inquistion. Let's just say I happened to stumble upon two sculleries who abandoned their post in the kitchen resulting in a catastrophic fire that could have burned down the whole of the Winter Palace."

Damlen dropped his arms and looked sheepish but Trevil was yanked back to the present. He spun to look at me with terror in his eyes.

"Oh serah you can't do that! Creators know what they'd do to us."

Immediately I felt guilty. Angered too at the fear that shot through their eyes at my threat. They shouldn't fear their masters this much. They shouldn't have masters to begin with. I smothered the anger and tried to be more gentle.

"I... I won't say a thing. So long as you promise me that you will forget that I was ever here," I said.

They looked at each other briefly, then back to me and nodded eagerly.

"Good, then I hope the rest of your night goes a little more smoothly."

Damlen scoffed, "And you serah, if you tumbling from the rafters is anything to judge by."

I half smiled and tried to look a little more dignified. I just had to hope that they would keep their mouths shut. It was then that I heard the bells toll. Josephine had definitely explained what the bells meant. Definitely, but I had been so distracted that I couldn't remember. I took it as a queue to get back to the main ball room, hurriedly wrapping the halla statue in my skirts as I did.

I couldn't ignore the sideways glances from the noble men and women when I came back to the main hall. It was grand, I would admit to that. The mix of warm candle light and cool moonlight that floated through the high windows made it dream like, magical. The pale tiles reflected the light easily, and mirrored the throngs of people dressed in finery the likes of which I'd never seen. I'd felt their burning eyes since I arrived at the palace. They'd probably never seen a Dalish elf dressed up to the nines before. Creators know, I hadn't either. I swanned in and out of the crowds as they made their way about the ballroom in groups of twos and threes. The majority of them wore those garish porcelain masks, hiding their features. It struck me as an obvious tactic, an honest dishonesty. This was a keep full of liars, but the masks let us know that. Perhaps those without their features shrouded were those not to be trusted.

I shook myself out of my reverie and tried to look like I belonged here. I caught sight of myself in a copper vase and knew immediately that I stuck out like a sore thumb. For starters, I was the only one here wearing vallaslin. That alone was enough to make sure I was ostracised. Secondly, the great big scar running down my face was hardly what you'd call a beauty spot. It was rough and red and not yet faded enough to cover it with powder. No, it burned down my face, as garish and obvious as the masks the rest of them wore. I went to touch it but swiftly brought my hand away and turned away from my reflection. Scars make for the best stories. I repeated Varric's kind words and tried to hold my head higher. It seemed easier to forget about my wound in the Inquisition. People came back wounded everyday, they lost limbs, lost their sight, their hearing. My scar never seemed as bad when we were fighting tooth and nail to close a breach. But here, it was the first time that I'd felt... ugly for it.

I swallowed the thought and pushed up my chin. I was not going to let a bunch of shemlen make me feel lesser for a scar I won in battle. If I didn't have this scar then the Inquisitor would be dead.

I found Leliana, Cullen and Josephine huddled in a corner, Trevelyan was currently on the dance floor with a stern lipped woman with short cropped blond hair. Something in my gut twisted when I saw that woman. There was something wrong about her... tainted even. The rest of crowds had fallen away to watch them. Evelyn seem to float through the dance, her noble blood made all the more apparent by the dainty steps she took. It was strange to see her so graceful.

"You have the last statue?" Cullen whispered.

I nodded and discreetly showed it to them, my eyes not leaving Trevelyan and the mystery woman she danced with.

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Lady Florianne, Duke Gaspard's sister." Josephine supplied.

"And who's side is she on?" I asked warily.

"Ours, apparently," Cullen said eyeing her suspiciously. I hid my smirk at the green shade his eyes took on. Oh, but he had fallen hard for our Herald.

"We can handle her, Lavellan we need you to engage with Briala," Leliana reiterated, taking the statue from me and hiding it in the plant pot beside her. Her face remained calm but her eyes burned. This was becoming more urgent.

"Engage, yes, got it. About what?"

"Maker Lavellan, what has gotten into you?" Leliana hissed.

I felt Dorian sweep up beside before I could escape.

"Rather what's not gotten into her, I should think," he said and I saw Cullen roll his eyes.

I elbowed him harshly but apologised after Josephine's chastising glare. This was not the sort of place to be elbowing ones colleagues.

"Lavellan, whatever foolishness is distracting you, I suggest you get rid of it. This goes far beyond a dalliance that may or may not happen. Collect yourself and carry out your mission," Leliana said, her bite not nearly masked by that smile.

I cleared my throat and straightened my skirts, "I was just leaving." I bowed my head with as much dignity as I could muster, avoiding Dorian's shit eating grin and headed to find the elven ambassador.

"That's you well and truly told," he whispered, still with the shit eating grin.

"You're making this a lot more difficult, you realise that, right?"

He shrugged and swept up two glasses of wine from a passing waiter and handed one to me, "In my honest opinion, dear Nev, this whole thing has caused more upset than it seems to be worth. Maker, if it was right it shouldn't be this difficult."

What he said struck a chord in my heart. Hurt and fear welled up in my throat but I smothered it down. He was wrong. He knew nothing of what Solas and I felt for each other. It was then that I spotted Briala out on the balcony. She whispered something to one of the elven servants and it disappeared hastily into the shadows. I took that as my queue. With one last swig of the wine Dorian gave me I made my move but he stopped my with a hand on my elbow.

"Nevalla you know I only say this as your friend."

"If I wanted your advice I'd ask for it," I hissed, before relinquishing my elbow and making my way out to the balcony. I swallowed down the guilt at the harshness of my words and prepared a charming smile on my face.

"Lady Briala," I greeted her. She turned to face me but did not look impressed.

"Let me guess, they send the token Dalish to smooth things over the the Elven Ambassador. A transparent and condescending tactic," she scoffed, turning back to the view of the gardens below.

I fumbled for words to try and get something out of this conversation, but no matter what diplomatic lie I tried to muster up, it wouldn't come out. I wasn't a diplomat. I said a silent apology to Josephine.

"Well, I like to think I'm more than just the Dalish elf they keep around." I said, mirroring her posture on the balustrade.

She glanced at me, "No? Do you think that your Inquisition cares about the plight of your people?"

I thought about her question, thought about how respectfully Evelyn had dealt with the Dalish clan we ran into. Then I though about the old blacksmith and his unflinching ignorance. It was a large organisation. Thus far there had been little mention of my people. I put it down to there being bigger issues at hand. One being the hole in the Sky, the other being un-dead Magister who wanted to destroy us all.

"I would say it's definitely on the list."

She turned fully to face me, "You have come here with an intent, I would know what that is."

I arched my brow at her. She was demanding, condescending and sneaky. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end with this one. She was not o be trusted.

"I'm not sure what they sent me here for. Gaspard has accused you of wanting to disrupt peace talks, but I can't see how you would think that was a good idea. The longer these peace talks go on the further down the list of priorities Elvhen matters will be pushed. It would make you a villain in front of the entire court, people you will need on your side if you want to affect any real change. It is unfortunate that you have to play their game but so far, this Elvhen Revolution of yours has made little to no progress."

A smirk grew on her face, "You play The Game well, for a Dalish."

"Perhaps there's more to me than meets the eye," I winked, taking a stray glass of wine and having a sip.

Her eyes widened then, a mix of suspicion and dread falling on her brow, "You work for him?"

My brow furrowed, "Who? Corypheus?"

Her expression shifted once more to impassable, the stern aloofness returned and she faced out onto the gardens once more.

"No one, this conversation is over. Return to your Inquisition, I have nothing more to say to you."

I wanted to argue but my gut told me to leave it. She hadn't meant Corypheus, the look in her eye spoke of a bigger threat and it made a shiver of dread ripple down my spine.

Note from me: So sorry I haven't updated this in such a long while! Working loads and had major block. This story is wanting to go two ways and honestly, still haven't decided what way that is yet. Hope you all enjoy though!