Sisters of Tevinter

The Game

   The ride to Halamshiral was shaping up to be a poor one. The sky was drizzly and cold, raindrops soaked through even the thickest of wool cloaks as fog coated the road ahead in dreary gray mist. 

     Jor shook her head to dislodge the droplets in her eyelashes as her frigid hands clung to the reins of her mount. The hart, scarlet and earthy brown with striped haunches and antlers that branched up to touch the sky, seemed perfectly content with this weather. He cantered along beside the small procession of horses that carried the Inquisitor's waterlogged companions. 

    "Why'd we have to go last?" Bull grumbled, laying an absent hand against his stallion's neck soothingly as the creature gave an agreeing snort. "Some kind of dramatic entrance?" 

   "Due to the potentially dangerous circumstances, it wouldn't be wise to send the Inquisitor herself forward into the Court before advisors and security," Solas mused. 

    Varric only laughed, shading his eyes from rain and fog to peer ahead. "Won't be very dramatic if the Lady Inquisitor shows up soaking wet." 

   Jor smiled slightly, hunching her shoulders to burrow her neck and chin into her scarf. "It's alright. I didn't even do my hair yet, so no harm done." 

    Again, Varric chuckled. "Thanks for bringing me along, kid." 

   "Of course! If I'm going to suffer through this little Orlesian peacock yard, you're coming with me." 

    "You're cruel, boss," Bull muttered, mopping rainwater off his brow with an agitated hand. 

    "In the best way." Jor's hart tossed its head with a soft, bugling chuff. She smiled and steered it carefully away from a deep mud puddle. "I don't suppose any of you've been to a ball before, I'm simply broadening your horizons." 

     "I have visited Halamshiral in the past," Solas said, adjusting his cowl. 

     "Oh? Is it nice?" The scholar wrinkled her nose. "I can't imagine they were very kind to you." 

     A wry smile touched the mage's mouth as he shook his head. Bull snorted. "I don't care what it's like, as long as it's dry." 

    "It will be. Dry and hot and full of idle chatter that makes you sick to hear it." Jor thought back to the Trevelyan estate with a shudder. 

    "You think too little of the Game," Solas said softly, amused. 

    "Game? Games are supposed to be fun." The Inquisitor shook her head. 

    "The Orlesian court is a web of intrigue and underhanded ambition. You'll find it much different from your rigid Tevinter magocracy." 

     Jor cocked her head to one side, looking ahead to discern road from fog, water dripping from the trees that lined the path. "I'll hold you to that." 

   "Then I am held." 

    A smile twitched her lips as her heart warmed slightly. Maybe he'd be right, maybe this would be fun, maybe there was nothing to worry about at all. Perhaps Leliana's information was only rumors, fear for the future. Though this civil war was very real. Jormungandr sighed softly. She was afraid. Josephine had made it clear that court approval was imperative if the Inquisition were to succeed in keeping the peace. She had to be presentable. Polite. 

    She could manage it. She was glad she wasn't going alone. Everyone would be there, of course. Most of the Inquisition, her friends and advisors, even Kaisen-- though the Crow protested all of it. She hated playing nice with nobility, even though she was very good at it. Leliana had to bribe her with shining things. It made Jor smile, just a little bit.