#haylan had a glass too much of wine

[vancilart]

day 3: bold

bro not where the other nobles can see noo haha broo stoooppp

[calamity-writes]

EH 27.4 - Endgame

Cast: Haylan ( @siriusdraws ),  Rythlen Theirin ( @picchar )​, Milliara (me!) Theseus Trevelyan (@perditionxroad), Peanut Adaar ( @cupcakelogic ), Fiowyn ( @shyquisitor )

Guest appearance: Karya and Aldes ( @kingsdragonage ), Kenslynn ( @megan-mayhem ), the DuMarcs ( @fangrl-esque )

Milliara - The Winter Palace

There was always a fine line between a pleasant numbness to the evening and being tipsy and risk upsetting the careful balance the Inquisition had managed to achieve in the Orlesian court.Milliara was currently dancing along that line as though it were a balance beam, glass of bubbly wine in hand. The night had been both easier and worse than she'd imagined and she wasn't about to go through the rest of it sober.

Sooner or later she would have to address what had happened, explain to Theseus why Frederic was dead, and figure out where to go from there.

But right now there was waltz playing and she hadn't danced properly in ages and anyone who even thought about stopping her from getting onto the ballroom floor was going to have the empty champagne flute shoved into their face or worse. Speaking of champagne... she finished off the flute and set it down on the passing tray of a human server who was passing by. Celene had found replacements for all the dead elves, somehow. Now food and wine was flowing again, a fact that went a long way to relieving stress in the court.

Spotting the New Guy speaking to one of the Lesser DuMarcs, the bard in Millie stirred, and she breezed over to join them, slipping her hand into the crook of Galaren's elbow.

"Why Mister DuMarc," Milliara said, purposfully forgetting the man's purchased title. It was paltry, anyways. The Patriarch and the main line were carefully avoiding the New Guy, despite the significant resemblance of the man's brows and chin. "Do you mind if I steal your nephew for a dance?" A twisted blade of a phrase. The man speaking to Gal couldn't have been more than ten years his elder, but the titters of onlookers ensured that they'd heard Milliara purposefully call him older, and tie Galaren to the family name.

"Inquisitor," the older man said with a stiff bow. "He is yours." Then a beat later. "please."

"Oh he's not mine," Milliara said with a laugh to end all bitch laughs. "Not yet."

Winking at the older man, she guided Galaren towards the ballroom floor, smirking at the sputtering she left behind.

"Have I mentioned that I like you?" Galaren said, grinning and glancing over his shoulder. "Because I do."

"Everyone likes me until they get to know me," Milliara said easily. That statement was a little too true after tonight. "I hope you know how to dance. Also, they should at least have sent your actual uncle over to try to shame you into leaving, not second-cousin Patrick."

"Someone did their homework," Galaren said, turning to pull her into a dancer's frame as they reached the edge of the floor. It appears he did, in fact, know how to dance. Or enough to not be horrid at it.

Milliara eased into the frame, adjusting her natural position for his height and frame. It was second nature, easier than riding a bike, even after so many years away.

"No," she said. "I used to be a pet of a member of the court, dealing with your family was part of the Game. Well, extended family, I'm assuming. Very extended based on the Ferelden accent, hm?"

He stepped forward and she followed, flowing with him into the slow circuit of dancers. They'd cleaned the floor but she was sure there would still be drops of red somewhere underfoot. That was nothing new, of course.

"My mother's side," Galaren said with a twitch of his shoulder. Milliara felt it through his forearm where her hand rested delicately at the crook of his elbow. "And they'd hesitate to let me use the name but it was on the certificate after I was born."

Illegitimate then, Milliara reasoned.

"The guy you took out, that you were yelling about earlier- that was the guy who used to own- er," Gal started, then stopped, realising what he'd said.

"No, you're right," the bubbly wine said through a lying smile full of teeth. "He owned me. See that's what happens when a ranked Chevalier rescues a street rat and pays for her education, food and housing. Slavery is only technically illegal on Orlais."

They danced without saying much for a few bars, and Milliara thought about her cousin. This was were Fiowyn would say something cute and suggestive and then have a fling to ease off the stress. But everything Milliara could think of just kept swirling back around to work or the murder of her ex. Besides, she didn't even know this man, aside from that he was a DuMarc and had been stiffed by Gaspard.

"I hope it hurt," Galaren said after a moment.

Reflex got the words out of Milliara's lips before her brain had a moment to think about them.

"when I crawled up from the Abyss? Only a bit." Tick, tick, tick, and she realised he hadn't used the terrible pickup line. "Wait- you said you hoped it hurt, not did it hurt." She pursed her lips, frowning slightly. "I think I can't hold as much wine as I used to be able to."

"I could try a pickup line," Galaren offered with a wink but then shook his head. "No, when you killed him. I hope it hurt."

Milliara thought about the ribbons of skin and flesh, covered with pink foam and slicked red.

"It did," she said with a small nod. "Excuse me, I think I need some fresh air actually," she said, stepping back and out from the frame of his arms. "You should go ask that man over there to dance," she said, gesturing over towards Dorian. "He'll be better company, I'm sure."

She bobbed her head as a half apology and slipped through the dancers towards the balcony where she had climbed up only an hour or so before. The night air was cool and fresh, and she sucked it down to try to calm the roiling in her chest. It helped, but more than that, it was the quiet, being away from the Vipers and whispers and eyes.

Curling her fingers over the marble ballistrade, Milliara leaned forward and rested her hips against it, looking out into the garden. Half-heartedly, she debated hopping over and making a run for the hotel, just disappearing and lettng the party run its course without her. But that would send the other Inquisition members into a Panic. Cullen was already grieving, Josie was playing catchup with the Rousseau clan after Fred's death had come to light, and she couldn't abandon them, even if she wanted to.

"I thought I might find you out here." Milliara looked over her shoulder to see Solas standing at the doorway into the ballroom. "Do you wish for company? If not I will let you be alone."

Milliara glanced past him, but it seemed he was alone. Small blessings.

"No," she said quietly, turning to face the garden again. "I actually don't know what I want, to be honest." Whoops. That was the wine again. "I mean-"

When she glanced back, he was smiling, and he rested a gloved hand on her forearm. Kid leather, black and soft, she could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin leather. Milliara tried not to think about how his hands had felt on her back.   "It is a reasonable answer to everything that has happened tonight," Solas said gently. "I did not mean to cause any of-"

"Solas," she interrupted. "You couldnt have known, I- I kissed you. I don't regret it, not really. Sure the timing could have been better. But if it wasn't that, something else would have set him off. Being here, around everything that I used to be, everything he used to be, it would have happened sooner or later." It boiled down to that, really. Deep down, she and Fred had been poison. Now he was gone, and Milliara wondered if she was poison without him. Could she move on now, and be the person she wanted to be? Or would she have to face the fact that she always had been and always would be a bad person?

The thought terrified her.

"You don't regret it?" Solas asked, lifting his eyebrows. "I thought you had made your choice for the Templar."

Milliara shook her head.

"I thought I had too," she admitted. "But now..." After seeing him angry, seeing him act a little too much like Fred, even if it had been valid, scared her almost as much as his use of Lyrium did.

"You should speak with him," Solas said, stepping back from the railing. "However, if the offer is not unwanted, I cannot allow this opportunity to pass me by. Lady Inquisitior, may I have this dance?" He dipped into a courtly bow, looking up at her with a small smile.

Heart hurting, Milliara took his offered hand and stepped away from the railing. Tonight, she would just enjoy this. She could sort out feelings and the mess she'd made tomorrow.

Stepping into Solas's arms, she blinked in surprise, a slow smile spreading on her face as he guided her into a slow waltz on the balcony itself, away from the crowd. The smoothness of his steps and ease of movement surprised her, but she bit back the questions on the tip of her tongue. They could wait.

As the music slowed, song drawing toward an end, Solas cupped her cheek. Lifting up onto her toes, Milliara closed the distance to his lips. This kiss was everything the other was not. Soft and quiet, not impulsive and meant to burn away old memories. His lips were warm, and he tasted like wine and cake and magic. The heady flavours made Milliara cling closer, tucking herself into Solas's arms where she was safe and warm and-

Milliara heard a scuff of shoes on stone behind her and a sharp intake of breath. Breaking the kiss, she turned, and felt her heart twist in her chest at Theseus's face.

"Forgive the interruption," Theseus said coldly. His face was tight, hands balled at his sides. "Excuse me." He turned on his heel and hung there for the barest of hesitations. Milliara knew this was where she was supposed to call out and apologize, explain. Something. But there was just... nothing left of her to put into it.

It seemed as though she was poison after all, entirely independent of Fred's presence.

Theseus marched out of sight, shoulders taut. Millie let him go, biting her lip.

"Solas," she said, looking back up at him. "Would you escort me back to the hotel? I think... I'm done with the ball." The hotel had hot showers and wine and beds, and maybe if she was feeling like enough of a bitch, an apostate who could help scrub away the lingering grime of the night.

"Of course," Solas said. Stepping back, he offered his elbow to her, and she took it, grateful for an anchor in the middle of too many feelings.

[calamity-writes]

EH 26.2 - Dancing with the Devil

Cast: Haylan ( @siriusdraws ),  Rythlen Theirin ( @picchar )​, Milliara (me!) Theseus Trevelyan (@perditionxroad), Peanut Adaar ( @cupcakelogic ), Fiowyn ( @shyquisitor )

Guest appearance: Karya and Aldes ( @kingsdragonage ), Kenslynn ( @megan-mayhem ), the DuMarcs ( @fangrl-esque )

~3000 words

Milliara - The Winter Palace

The Inquisitor drifted through the crowd, heading back toward the main ballroom. Whispers preceeded her and murmurs followed behind. Milliara knew she’d lost some of the court's goodwill with that stunt, but the look on the Trevelyan Patriarch's face had been worth a small loss of standing. Besides, she had plans to gain back what she’d lost in spades. But first, she needed to find Rythlen and, unfortunately, Fred.

“My you have been busy tonight,” an amused voice called to her as Milliara passed through the foyer towards the main ballroom entrance. Pausing, the Inquisitor turned to look over her shoulder at the striking woman who was walking towards her from the ballroom entrance, Rythlen at her side. Golden eyes watched Milliara and whatever they found drew a smirk to the dark lips.

“Inquisitor, this is my long-time friend, Morrigan,” Rythlen said, gesturing at the golden-eyed woman. “Though finding her to be the Empress’s Court Occult Advisor was not something I ever thought would happen. Ever.”

“As you’ve said,” Morrigan replied with a smile, one that was gone by the time she looked back at Milliara. “But alas, reunions are not why I am here tonight. Tis a matter of grave importance."

"Everything in Orlais is," muttered the elf, tilting her head towards Ry's friend. "I'm sure Lady Vivienne was delighted to find out a proper apostate took her role as Imperial Occult Advisor."

"Oh I like you," the witch said with a dry laugh. "Do try not to die tonight, 'twould be a shame. I came across Tevinter agent earlier tonight and discovered he was carrying this.”

From her dress, Morrigan produced a slim keycard, the photo id on it showed the face of a tired-looking elf. It wasn’t someone Milliara recognized, but that meant little after so much time away from court. Taking the card, Milliara slipped it into a breast pocket inside her suit jacket.

“Thank you,” Milliara said. She didn’t exactly //need/ the card to get into the servant’s quarters but having it would be easier. “I’ll put this to good use. And don't worry about me dying tonight from a few Venatori. This place raised me, after all.”

The elf glanced at Rythlen, the smallest of frowns on her face. She shifted her weight to one foot, uncomfortable with what she was going to say next.

“Your Highness, I need you and Theseus to stay out on the floor tonight. I can't risk either of you doing dirty work. Not tonight.”

Rythlen's eyebrow arched at the corner, but to her credit as Queen, she didn't argue. Not here, in the viper's pit at least. Milliara saw the slight press of her lips, and was sure that after the night was over, they'd be having a discussion about 'why' Ry was being left behind.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Milliara said with a nod to the Queen and the Witch. Yeah, Viv was going to be hella pissed whenever she found out. Milliara wondered about whether the former Occult Advisor was pleased about her current position in the Inquisition. Probably not, Millie though, touching Frederic's elbow on her way by and motioning for him to follow. Vivienne had never been one to be out of the circle of power, and Milliara was damned if she'd let that woman close to her son.

"Time to work," she murmured to her once lover, and lead him through the crowd towards the servants quarters. This would cause no end of rumour, Milliara was sure. The old lovers, sneaking off like old times, and right after Milliara had openly admitted a relationship with another man? Scandlous. Luckily Orlais thrived on scandal. The court doubly so.

Thankfully Fred said nothing until they arrived at the servant's door, and Milliara nodded to the two others that were to join them. Solas stood by the statues of fallen heroes, hands clasped behind his back, while Dorian was studying the contents of a wine glass.

"I hope that's only number one," Millie said to the Tevene man as she passed him. She swiped the keycard, and nudged the door open when the lock's light turned green. Peering inside, she spotted the crate of items that the Inquisition had snuck in earlier... and a pool of blood.

"Someone definitely beat us to the punch, hm?" Dorian said, walking in and unlocking the trunk with a wave of his hand. "Shall we slip into something more comfortable then?" He asked, opening the trunk and gesturing with a flourish to the contents inside.

"Thank god," Milliara muttered, peeling off the jacket of her suit. Both Solas and Dorian looked away to give her privacy. Fred, perhaps out of habit, didn't even bat an eye. "Relax," she told the two other men, pulling on the under armor catsuit. "We don't have time for propriety."

Solas made a sound that might have been a huff of laughter, and Dorian nodded.

"Got us there, I suppose," he said, changing into his own gear. At least the men were able to wear some components under their own suits. Millie made a note to speak to Josie about that, there had to be some way to balance out armor and formal wear.

"Headsets on," she said, slipping her own over her ear and adjusting the small mic and visor. "We're looking for whoever killed all the servants."

Frederic looked at her, a frown settling on his face.

"Surely they can't be all dead?" He said. "We haven't seen any bodies."

Milliara flicked on the visor's camera and rolled her shoulders to loosen up. "Fred, mon ami, if they're not out serving, they're dead. You do not want to see the DuMarcs when they are out of wine, hm?" She patted his chest on the way by, and headed along the path of blood drops.

Peanut - The Peanut Gallery

"Boooooo!" Fi said as the camera switched to the feed from Milliara's headset, showing off acres of broad Frederic Rousseau-chest in all it's terrible muscle-y glory.

"Fi, chill out," Peanut said, pulling the fluffy elf into a gentle, but slightly constricting hug.

"No, there is no chill about Fred, he's terrible," Fiowyn muttered. "Why's she leaving Theseus back there? He's so much better than Fred. Or Ry? WHY NOT BRING RY, MILLIE?"

"Shhh, because Theseus was just hurt and he's still healing," Peanut said. She placed a gentle -but firm- hand over Fiowyn's mouth and stroked the fluffy elf's hair.

"Also if he dies in the line of fire tonight oh no life is so hard, let's mourn together," Bull said around a mouthful of popcorn.

That seemed to settle the angry little elf, and Peanut let go of her mouth for the time being, but kept up the gentle hair stroking since it seemed to calm the fiestiness.

"Who'll bet that Sunshine doesn't get the first kill?" Varric asked. "I've got ten crowns that say she does."

"No bet," came the answer from multiple voices.

"You know," Hayalan said quietly, watching the screen. "If she grew up here, her angriness makes a bit more sense. But she could always go back and speak to that prince. Just saying. He seemed nice." She sighed dreamily. "Really nice."

"Real tightassed too," Varric muttered. "You'd have to surgically remove the statue of andraste crammed up his ass."

Haylan smiled. "I'm a doctor, I'd be happy to help him out."

Theseus - The Winter Palace

Theseus spotted Rythlen as she entered the ballroom from the foyer, speaking with a woman in gold and wine velvet, her dark hair pulled up at the top of her head. Another cousin perhaps? But as he approched and the woman turned to look at him, he noticed that her eyes were a startling shade of yellow. Chasind? Or- He'd heard the stories about the Queen's companions during the Blight.

"Ser Theseus," Rythlen said with a nod his way and small smile. "Please meet my friend Morrigan. Morrigan, this is Knight Theseus Trevelyan, formerly of the Order of Nights Templar, now with the Inquisition."

So it was the so-called witch of the wilds. Theseus bowed over the offered hand, a smile on his face. Millie had asked him to be charming tonight, after all. "A pleasure, I've heard much about you."

"And I'm sure much 'twas about how terrible I am," Morrigan said dryly. "You being a Templar, and me the horrible apostate."

Theseus felt the scar on his back itch, and he had to resist rolling his shoulder to try to ease the feeling. The itch only got worse as Morrigan tested the waters with a barb or two.

"One of my closest friends is an apostate, actually," Theseus said graciously. "Vashoth, no less. The order has made many mistakes, but thankfully the Inquisition has allowed me to do what I've only ever wanted to do: help people."

Morrigan regarded him, those strange gold eyes studying his face for any hint of falsehood, and while Theseus wasn't going to blame her for being suspicious, he also wasn't about to let her interrogate him. He answered to the commanders of the Inquisition, and they trusted him. Milliara, trusted him.

Maker, that realization had rocked him.

"Ah, well, I am glad to see that not all Templars are beyond hope," Morrigan said with a slight incline of her head. "Even if her taste in husbands is suspect, if my friend trusts you, so should I."

Rythlen reached out and gave Morrigan's hand a small squeeze, as a thank you perhaps? Or because she was touched by the Witch's comment? Theseus wasn't sure.

"Milliara asked me to find you, but now that I have I'm not sure where she's gone," Theseus admitted. "I'd have thought finding a purple elf in all white would be easier at a ball of..." he trailed off, looking out at the Orlesians who mingled in a riotous sea of luminescent ruffles and clashing colours. "Orlesians," he said, unable to find any other description for the gathering.

"She just left," Rythlen said. "Morrigan managed to intercept her before she got to where she was going." The Queen glanced around, and leaned closer to him. "She's off an 'agressive negotiations', she should be back soon."

Theseus frowned. She was off finding out who was going to kill the Empress? Without him, or Rythlen? Had she brought Cullen? But no, he'd just passed the Commander, the poor man had been swarmed by Orlesians. Theseus too had his own swarm that seemed to follow him around, though they were hanging back now, intimidated by his present company. Thank the Maker for that.

"Who with? If we're here-" he said, but it was as he spoke that he realised who else she would have brought. Intellectually, he knew it made sense. The Chevalier bastard knew the palace and the players better than he did, but emotionally the realisation stung. "Ah, nevermind then," he said a bit too sharply. He took a moment and forced his shoulders back and at ease. He had a court to charm, and distract while Milliara was away.

He just had to remember: She trusted him. Now he had to trust her, like she'd asked.

Of course, that didn't mean he had to trust Rousseau...

"Ah, I do so miss watching male posturing," Morrigan said with a laugh. "I must return to Celene, Rythlen, I know she would love to greet you, but it must be after the peace talks." With a nod of her head, the Witch left them. She cut a path through the courtiers, who evidently were intimidated by her. Now that she had left, they swarmed up to Theseus and the Queen.

"Ah, Ser Trevelyan, I haven't seen you since you were but a boy!" "Have you been married yet? My first two husbands..." "You seem close with the Inquisitor, Your Highness, tell me-"

Andraste have mercy, Theseus thought, smiling as he did his best to answer their questions with as little information as possible.

Milliara - The Winter Palace

The elven girl was staring up at Milliara with wide yellow eyes, her skin so pale that Milliara wasn't sure if the natural colour was green or grey. Then again, she had just been about to die, only for another elf to kick her assailant out the window to the terraced gardens below. Far, far below.

Milliara cleared her throat, and crouched down by the girl.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently. Again.

"Yes, I... sorry, I just- are you with Briala?" the girl asked, eyes flicking from Milliara to Frederic and the other men who waited behind her. "She sent me here but it was a trap!"

"Briala?" Millie asked, arching an eyebrow. "Say, if we were to offer you protection, and oh... I don't know, a better job with the Inquisition, would you testify that she sent you here?"

The elf nodded without hesitating.

"You're her, aren't you?" she asked quietly. "The Herald of Andraste."

Milliara swallowed the sigh and smiled. She nodded and stood, holding out a hand to help the girl up. The elven girl was too light, too young for this courtier crap, Millie thought. Even though she knew the girl was older than she'd been when she first walked into the Winter Palace, trailing behind Fred.

The thought made her feel sick, but she swallowed the feeling back. This wasn't the time to reminisce.

"Go find Lady Nightengale and tell her what you told me," Milliara said, squeezing the girl's hand. "I'm sure you're not the only loose end these people are trying to tie up tonight."

With a nod, the servant dipped as she passed Fred, and hurried out the door.

Milliara waited until she was gone before she sat back onto the room's bed, resting her head in her hands as the room started to spin. She could hear the ghosts of old conversations in her ears, feel the electricity of intrigue and taste wine-kissed lips on hers.

"Mil?" Fred was kneeling by her, but it was his younger face she saw. Before there was grey at his temples, the lines on his forehead were gone and he was wearing a charming smile.

Her stomach twisted.

"I need a minute," She said, holding a hand up. "I just need a minute. Go wait outside."

She didn't want to be close to him. She could still feel his callused hands on her shoulders, her back and sliding up her leg as they snuck off together in the middle of a boring court event. How she'd still been covered in blood of a failed rival, and how he'd licked it from her neck-

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly, and Millie squeezed her eyes shut. This had been a mistake. She was making a mistake being here, with him. In this damn palace.

"I said get out," she growled. "Now."

"Up you get," Dorian said, grabbing a hold of Fred's pauldron and lifting. it was the gesture more than the strength of the man that got Fred to his feet, Millie knew. She said nothing, staring at the small fire place while the Orlesian and the Tevinter left the room.

The mattress shifted as Solas sat next to her, gently resting a hand on her arm.

"I'd missed the thrilling mix of sex, secrets and intrigue at court," he murmured. "But I can see that you are struggling." He paused. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Milliara glanced at him, then sighed. She wanted to scrub her face with her hands, to just leave the damn palace and not look back. To hell with these people, to hell with all of them.

She sighed again, leaning her cheek on Solas's shoulder.

"No," she said. "I miss it too, I hate that I miss it, but I miss it. I miss the knife's edge I used to walk on: currying favour and secrets and tempting fate. I loved it. I thrived on it, and I hate that about myself."

She felt Solas's hand rest lightly on her back, and she felt some of the sickness ease away. She'd expected a lecture but he was just listening, for once.

"That is a feeling I am no stranger to," he admitted quietly. "But you are striving to change, do not forget that, Lethallan. It is a worthy goal to pursue, and one that has guided you so far. We are only our mistakes if we do not strive to right them. Do you agree?"

Milliara thought about that. She turned it over in her mind, picking the idea apart and putting it back together again. He was right, it was a goal, to atone for what she'd done in these walls so long ago.

"I agree," she said, lifting her head from his shoulder. "Thank you, this helped." She was going to have to face the court again before the night was through, but at least now she wasn't as worried that she'd dissolve into a shaking mess.

"You are a far better woman than you let yourself think, Milliara," Solas said, looking her in the eyes. "You have changed so much in so short a time. Few people would have risen to the occasion as you have."

Milliara bit her lip. This was where she stood, got up and walked out of the room and took a deep breath to calm jangled nerves. This was where she returned to the ball to find Theseus and slip her hand into the crook of his perfect elbow and soak up the moral strength he offered.

This was that moment, she could feel it.

But this was also the Winter Palace. This was the home of all her worst sins, and they clawed at her heart, whispered things that she'd hoped she'd forgotten.

She leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

Milliara might be a better woman than she'd been six years ago, but she wasn't as good as everyone wanted to think she was. Solas let out a surprised huff of breath, but strong hands pulled her into his lap before she had a chance to pull away.

Mistakes had never tasted so good, she was sure as she pressedherself against his chest, feeling his hands pull her closer still.

Fiowyn - The Peanut Gallery

"MILLIE NO!" Fi shouted, hopping up and throwing popcorn at the screen.

"Auntie fi?" a small voice asked from the doorway. The gathered voyeurs turned to stare at the small half-elven boy who stood there, rubbing his eyes. "I couldn't sleep. Can I watch the movie too?"

Next to her, Bull and Peanut leapt up, lifting a blanket to over the screen, while Varric coughed loudly over what what certainly a murmured bit of naughty elven. Fi hadn't heard it but judging by the chuckle of Aldes and Karya's gasp... it was pretty scandalous. 

"Here, I'll come read you a book!" Fiowyn said a bit desperately, scooping up Nils and hurrying from the room. "The movie isn't very good, I can watch it later. There wasn't even any dragons in it."

Nils yawned.

"Then why were you yelling about Mamae?" he asked, sleepy but not dumb.

...fuck.