A Candle in the Darkness (A Dragon Age: Inquisition fanfiction)

Attention

13 Wintersend, 9:42

So far, it seemed to be going well, Antonia thought, looking around the ballroom. She could sense the approval of the room, and everyone was exerting themselves to be their most charming. Even Cullen, who was surrounded by a bevy of Orlesian beauties of both genders. She imagined that to the casual observer, he looked as though he was enjoying himself, but she knew better. Which was all that was keeping her from going over and forcefully dispersing said bevy.

Well, that ... and professionalism ... and knowing that Leliana would kill her.

Leliana was nowhere in sight, and Antonia should know—she had been all over the Winter Palace by this point, finding all the secrets she could, although she didn't feel any closer to an answer as to who was most likely to be trying to assassinate the Empress. She had met the "arcane advisor" Leliana had hinted so darkly about. The Lady Morrigan, of all people. No wonder Leliana hadn't been happy—having met Morrigan, Antonia couldn't imagine that she and Leliana had gotten along very well at all during the Blight.

The dancing was beginning inside the ballroom. Antonia allowed herself to be partnered by Duke Gaspard for the first dance, and then by the Nevarran ambassador, a distant cousin of Cassandra's, for the next. The third she begged off on the grounds that she was parched and wanted a drink. She did, too, but wasn't about to have one here. She took a fluted glass of champagne from a passing tray and pretended to sip at it, but eventually tipped about half of it into the nearest table decoration. Poison was a cheap and easy way to get rid of someone, especially someone like a pesky Inquisitor who might get in the way. Best to eat and drink as little as possible.

As she stood watching the dancing, she felt a presence next to her—the familiar heat of an equally familiar body.

"You shouldn't drink that," he said quietly.

"I'm not. And you're not supposed to be talking to me," she reminded him.

"I thought I would report in."

"Ah. Good idea. Anything of note?"

"I've been keeping my eyes open, but so far nothing unusual has caught my notice. It would be easier if people would stop talking to me. Other people, that is."

Antonia smiled. "You seem very comfortable. And you've attracted quite the following. Who are all those people?"

"I don't know, but they won't leave me alone."

"Not enjoying the attention then?" She said it lightly, but she was burning with jealousy. Unnecessary jealousy, she reminded herself, but jealousy nonetheless.

"Hardly. Anyway, yours—" He caught himself, remembering their orders, and then softly finished the thought anyway. "Yours is the only attention worth having."

Antonia bit down on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to avoid looking the way his words and tone made her feel. "Likewise, Commander." She needed to keep moving, but she couldn't help the next question. "I don't suppose you'd save me a dance?"

"No, thank you," Cullen said, rather coolly.

"Oh."

"No! I didn't mean to— Oh, Maker's breath. I've answered that question so many times I'm rejecting it automatically." He shifted just the tiniest bit closer to her. Antonia could almost feel his breath on her ear as he leaned in to explain, and it made her want to turn and throw herself into his arms and forget about all the damned politics and intrigues. "I'm not one for dancing," he explained. "The Templars never attended balls."

For a moment, Antonia had a vision of lines of bucket-helmeted figures moving in the stately figures of a formal dance; she wasn't certain if the image was amusing or disturbing. "Your fans will be disappointed."

"Yes, well, I fail to see how my stepping on some duchess's foot would aid the Inquisition," Cullen said tartly.

"Oh, Commander!" came a giggling voice, and with an abrupt nod Antonia moved away from him. But not fast enough, because she could hear the giggling voice saying, "Is that the Inquisitor? Do you think she's pretty?"

She wanted to stop and hear Cullen's reply, but she had already trespassed on Leliana's orders enough for one night. Besides, she told herself sternly, she knew perfectly well that Cullen thought she was pretty; there was no need to get all fluttery about it just because they were at a ball at which she looked so much less feminine than most of the other women in attendance.

And there was still much to be done. Across the room, she saw the Grand Duchess Florianne, Duke Gaspard's sister and the Empress's cousin. Something about Florianne felt off to Antonia; she wanted to speak with the other woman, to find out what she knew. She moved across the room, putting her mind back on the business at hand.