They stayed in an inn not too far from the Winter Palace, Jacquelyn naturally finding the nicest place she could. After all, the Inquisition had a reputation to uphold. They were not guests of the Winter Palace, not guests of the Empress, but they could at least stay somewhere nice and up to their reputation. Sure, it cost a pretty penny, but the Inquisition could afford it for a night or two.
Jacquelyn, Cassandra, Leliana, Josephine, Dorian, and Vivienne arrived there before Cullen showed up. Unfortunately, with Siara. Part of Jacquelyn wished that Siara had gone against her orders and stayed behind in Denerim, but it was what it was. And, surprisingly, Cullen and Siara made it in pretty good time. And Cullen looked healthier than he had in a long time. He barely had a sheen of sweat, even after a long journey, and he didn't look like he'd been starving for a few days. It was a pleasant surprise, and Jacquelyn couldn't help but admire him.
"You made it," she smiled, stepping forward and pulling the commander into a warm embrace. He still hesitated, but he returned the motion, wrapping his arms around her. Siara couldn't help but roll her eyes at them. Not that the elf was surprised at the reunion, but that didn't mean she couldn't be mildly disgusted by the sap. Cassandra, Leliana, and Josephine simply smiled to each other, pleased that the Commander and the Inquisitor got along so well.
Siara just stepped past them and entered the building, casting her eyes over her surroundings as she always did in a new building where she would be staying. At least the Inquisition's money wasn't being wasted, exactly. They were nice lodgings, if a little fancy for Siara's taste. Orlais. Always a bit over the top. The rooms looked secure enough though, and Siara spotted Dorian sitting at one of the tables quietly reading a book. She ignored the conversation going on between the Inquisitor and her advisors, Vivienne crossing over to join them in discussing the Winter Palace and the ball, and headed instead over to Dorian.
"Good book?"
"Simply something to pass the time with," he replied, lowering it and smiling at Siara. "Did you have a good trip?"
Siara shrugged, sitting down and motioning over to a nearby waitress that she wanted something.
"Could have been a lot worse. Alistair has a dog, so it wasn't all bad."
"So, you're a dog person?" Dorian smiled, "I picked you more as a cat person."
"I like both," Siara smiled, "It really just depends on the situation. You want a rat killed? A cat is a lot nicer than a tiny yappy dog for that. You fight a couple of Venatori in the palace kitchens? A big dog is a lot more useful."
"Is that what you got up to, is it?" Dorian smiled, closing his book and placing it on the table as the waitress reached them.
Siara looked around at her."Could I have some Absence, please?" she asked, smiling sweetly. Dorian did his best to suppress a chuckle at the elf's order.
"Certainly. And for you, ser?"
"Just some Orlesian Red, if you don't mind."
"Of course. I shall get them to you soon."
Siara smiled to the waitress as she left and turned back to Dorian, shrugging.
"I don't want to be here."
"I could tell that," Dorian laughed quietly, "How many balls have you been to?" he asked, mostly out of idly curiosity.
Siara scrunched her face up, her left eye closing as she concentrated, ticking off her fingers as she went.
"I think… think… three or four. And I hated each one of them."
"You prefer hacking and slashing out in the wild?"
"Something like that."
Jacquelyn evidently finished her conversation with her advisors, Cassandra, and Vivienne, crossing over the room to Dorian and Siara. She had a serious 'no nonsense' look on her face, and stopped in front of them with her hands on her hips, regarding Siara closely. Siara, her drink just arriving, took the glass in her hand and raised her eyebrows at Jacquelyn.
"Yes?"
The Inquisitor shook her head, a sigh escaping her.
"You have been here all of five minutes and you are already drinking?"
"Gotta do something to pass the time, don't I?"
"Getting drunk before a ball is not what is recommended."
"Not recommended by who?" Siara asked, taking a gulp from her drink, "I'd thoroughly recommend it."
"This is important, Siara," Jacquelyn snapped, "the Empress is in danger, as you should well know, and if you are drunk then all you will do is get in the way and be a liability."
"Don't worry, Jacquelyn. I'll be on my best behaviour."
A grin spread across her face, and Jacquelyn forced herself to stop and take a deep breath before she exploded at the elf.
"Do you at least have something to wear? Because your armour will not suffice."
"Don't worry about it, dear Herald. I have everything under control."
"Somehow that does not fill me with confidence." Jacquelyn muttered darkly. Siara shrugged, motioning to Dorian with her glass as he tasted his wine thoughtfully.
"Dorian here is going to take me shopping," she said. Dorian looked around at her, a confused but pleased look on his face.
"Am I now?" he asked. Siara nodded to him before turning back to Jacquelyn.
"No need to get your panties in a twist."
Jacquelyn decided it was best to walk away before she threw something at the elf, or made some other kind of spectacle. It would be bad for her reputation, and the reputation of the Inquisition, but Siara just had a way of winding her up. Jacquelyn didn't want to admit to hating many people, but she was getting close to simply detesting Siara.
Cullen went upstairs to get settled into the room that had been assigned to him. It was small, but that suited him fine. There was a bed, which looked extremely comfortable and rather tempting at that moment, and a basin nearby for him to get cleaned up in. That was about all he needed. He put his supply bag down on the floor and sat down on the bed, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. Though he felt better than he usually did after travelling, he still felt tired and sore. More sore than he used to, than before he came off the lyrium. But whatever it was that Siara had been giving him in that tea, it seemed to work wonders. Whenever he asked her what was in it, she'd just shrugged and said something to the extent of 'elfroot and tea stuff'. Very descriptive.
There was a soft knock on his door and he stood up, pushing all thoughts of the journey from his mind as he crossed the room to open it. Before him stood Jacquelyn. Just Jacquelyn. None of the hangers-on that took the form of her advisors and friends. He smiled.
"Inquisitor."
"Oh, please, Cullen. You know you do not need to call me that."
"I do," he chuckled, stepping aside to let her into his room and quietly closing the door behind her. She looked amazing. She always looked amazing, but she looked more amazing than usual. Maybe it was just that he hadn't seen her for so long. Or maybe it was that she seemed to suit being in a more civilised area than the wilderness. Whatever it was, it was working. Her hair seemed to shine more, her cheeks a bit rosier, and she somehow seemed to be standing taller than she usually did. It was also a nice change to see her in more casual attire, though casual by Jacquelyn's standards were still rather formal. It was all part of her charm, and Cullen wouldn't change it for anything.
She turned to face him, that small confident smile of hers sending shivers down his spine. Maker, he always felt like he was back training as a templar when she looked at him like that, or a young boy playing in the streets. It made him forget about his aches and pains for a moment, better than any drink of tea ever could.
"It's good to see you again."
He wasn't sure why he said it, and immediately he felt his cheeks going red. Again. Like they always seemed to be when he was around her. Jacquelyn's smile grew and a quiet chuckle escaped her.
"It is good to see you too, Cullen. You do not need to be embarrassed to say it," she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, "I missed you."
Cullen smiled down at her, returning the gesture and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in closer. He planted a soft kiss on her forehead, breathing in her perfume. The same crystal grace as she always wore. He didn't want to let her go. He never wanted to let her go. But sadly, she pulled away far too soon, though she also seemed reluctant about it.
"I'm sorry it took so long," Cullen told her, "I -"
"It is quite all right, Cullen. Siara kept us updated on the situation."
"She did?"
"Yes. She sent word about the Venatori, and she informed us that you and she were staying a bit longer to ensure that King Alistair's life was no longer, how did she put it? 'In any imminent danger', I believe were her words. I seem to recall she also said something about him resembling a damsel in distress, though I do not remember her exact wording."
Cullen was surprised. He didn't realise that Siara had kept his decline in condition to herself, had simply assumed that she would have informed Jacquelyn and the other advisors. Yet she hadn't. He'd have to ask her why later, and thank her. He didn't like the thought of Jacquelyn seeing him as vulnerable. He knew he'd sometimes have to be, knew that because of the lyrium withdrawals he wouldn't always be able to present himself as strongly as he would like. But that didn't mean he liked it.
He nodded silently in response to Jacquelyn, then smiled slightly. He just stepped forward again and gently pulled her towards him, once again wrapping his arms around her.
"You'll have to catch me up on what's been going on in Skyhold while I've been away," he told her. The smile slipped from her face and she leaned forward, resting her forehead gently on his breastplate and sighing deeply. All at once she seemed about as exhausted as he felt.
"There is a lot to tell you."
Dorian stood looking at the clothing options, reaching out to feel the different fabrics while Siara was off trying on one of the options he'd picked out for her. The tailor was out the back with her, putting pins in place to make sure everything fit properly. She'd had very few requirements for clothing. Something she could fight in, something that gave her at least some protection, and something that she could still move in and fight in if the need arose. She did not want to wear what the rest of them were going to be wearing, although Dorian had shown her the clothes that Jacquelyn had recruited Sera's help for putting together (she'd made Sera act as the dress mannequin to try get a rough estimate of Siara's size). As Siara pointed out, she was actually a bit taller than Sera was. Not by much, but enough that she wouldn't fit the clothes. And Siara hated the colour red. Or that was one of her excuses, anyway. Nothing to do with her not wanting to look like she was part of the Inquisition.
Dorian suspected it also had something to do with Jacquelyn being the one to pick out the clothing. He knew that Siara and Jacquelyn didn't get along, which he found almost ironic. He had the strong suspicion that if Siara wasn't around, then Jacquelyn would fail in her mission to defeat Corypheus. Siara and Dorian had, afterall, seen what the future held if he and The Blade went missing or died. The Inquisitor had died in that future. But he could understand Siara's dislike for the noble. Jacquelyn did have a way of getting on one's nerves, and Dorian still hadn't quite forgiven her for not helping the mages. He could understand it, but he didn't agree with it.
"So what happened at the last ball you attended?" he asked, making idle conversation to try to put off Siara's swearing for as long as possible. She'd already been complaining when they left the inn.
"Uhhh… I think it ended up with Jacen having an affair with some lord's wife or maybe mistress. I never really got the full story from him," she replied, "and it got too chaotic to get the full story from the lord. Heck, it could have even been the lord that he had the affair with, for all I know. Jacen could talk the pants off almost anybody."
"Sounds like he was a good fellow."
"I hate to think how well you two would have gotten along," Siara scoffed. In truth a part of her hoped that Jacen would have moved on from his old relationship. That one had literally gone down in flames, and even though Jacen never talked about it, Siara could tell that he'd still had feelings for them. That he missed the relationship. That was the strongest he'd ever felt about anyone, and what happened had really hurt. Jacen had felt betrayed, even if he never said as much to Siara. She knew her brother well enough to know he'd been upset.
Dorian looked up as Siara stepped out from behind the curtain. She looked a bit awkward, but she didn't look uncomfortable, and she stopped in front of a mirror to regard the outfit thoughtfully.
"I'm glad I asked you along for this. I'd never have been able to pick something like this out," she admitted. Dorian smiled.
"Yes, your sense of style is a bit lacking," he agreed, Siara rolling her eyes at him, but she didn't seem upset.
The process had taken a bit longer than she was used to, and she usually gave up and settled for an outfit that would simply do for her purposes rather than one she liked and felt like she suited. But this one… this one she could more than merely tolerate. She actually smiled slightly.
"Thanks, Dorian."
"Anytime. I like making my friends look fashionable."
The outfit was nice and simple. Brown leggings, similar to the ones that the members of the Inquisition would be wearing, and a purple tunic. The same shade of purple as Siara usually seemed to wear. It had long sleeves that were slightly loose around the wrists, but tight enough that they wouldn't fall back if Siara raised her arms. Perfect for hiding a knife or two if she so desired. She wore a corset, but it wasn't done up particularly tight, and was more for a bit of armour than anything else. It was barely noticeable, to be honest. Siara was going to wear her own belt, which was surprisingly not too ratty and tattered, and she had already assured Dorian she could manage her own hair. That surprised him a little, and part of him looked forward to seeing what she would do with it. He half expected her to simply do her usual braid or to leave it loose. But they were satisfied with the outfit, especially when Siara shrugged on the coat. It was a brown coat, lined with white fennec fur, and had a layer of leather in the middle. The coat had good movement in it, and Siara was surprisingly fond of it already.
She still didn't enjoy balls, but at least she looked like she could somewhat play the part of a respectable member of the inquisition.