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

The Dance

13 Wintersend, 9:42

Cullen had enjoyed the evening even less than he had expected to. Not only had he been forced to spend it making charming small talk with any number of vapid women, and in an extremely uncomfortable uniform at that, but he had had to watch Antonia disappear into the depths of the Winter Palace several times without knowing where she was going, or who might try to kill her there.

That she had handily uncovered the plot against the Empress's life, evaded the trap set for her by Grand Duchess Florianne, and exposed Florianne's complicity with Corypheus in a way the duchess had not been able to deny, and done it all with a panache that made her the darling of the Imperial Court didn't surprise him in the least—Antonia was extraordinary, after all. And he didn't begrudge her having done it all on her own, with Dorian and Varric in attendance as always, and Cassandra's able assistance. He simply resented having had his own skills wasted when they could have been put to so much better use at her side.

It all had Cullen feeling unsettled and off-kilter, this standing around and talking that was so much more anyone else's bailiwick other than his own. Even Cassandra was more comfortable in these circumstances than he was.

Of course, Cassandra was royalty. Josephine, Antonia, and Dorian were nobility. Varric was from the rich merchant class, much as he tried to pretend otherwise. Leliana had not grown up privileged, but her bard training meant this was her element. Cullen was the sole representative of the common man the Inquisition had brought to this affair, and so it was no wonder, he told himself, that he felt the least comfortable in this environment. Not that that made him any happier.

And now, the most concerning part of all was that after her exposure of Florianne, and a private conversation with the Empress following that, Antonia had disappeared. He was trying not to be anxious about it, as he knew that said as much about his frame of mind as it did the potential danger to her, but the partygoers were revelling in her name, toasting her and Andraste, feasting to their hearts' content. She was missing a great celebration in her honor—which Cullen understood, but at the same time, typically Antonia's commitment to the Inquisition would have had her there, smiling and nodding, at least. He tried to make the rounds himself, but it was even harder to keep his mind on the insipid conversations now than it had been earlier.

Leliana found him as he was trying to keep his mind on a conversation about Varric's latest book with a young lady whose pronunciation of "Donnen Brennokovic" was the most amusing thing about her. "Pardon me, Lady Fiorette. It seems I need to borrow our commander for a moment."

Fiorette pouted. "Are you certain? I could return him to your lodgings later. It would be no trouble."

"Thank you, my lady," he said, hoping this was the last time this evening he had to feign a politeness he did not feel, "but I regret that my duties to the Inquisition take precedence over ... all other inclinations."

She pouted again, but gave him her hand. He kissed it gingerly and then he was blissfully free to go away with Leliana.

"Don't ever make me do that again."

Leliana laughed. "But you did it so well! I was quite proud of you. And you could have made any number of conquests."

He settled for raising his eyebrows to indicate how little he cared. As far as he was concerned, the only conquest that mattered was the one Antonia had made of him, but he wasn't about to say that aloud, even to Leliana.

"And speaking of conquests ... I believe yours is on the balcony, just up those stairs. She has had a long evening, and far exceeded everything that was expected of her. Perhaps what she needs now is some ... support."