A HINT OF GREEN
Why he let Josephine talk him into attending another ball, David would never know. Especially given everything that he and Dorian had endured the last time they had been to Halamshiral. Though he would never complain about having the handsome man there, right at his side. He would complain even less when they would be able to sneak away from the public's eye. Behind the two walked Blackwall and Cassandra, both looking entirely uncomfortable. David would be sympathetic, had he not told them that if he had to be dragged to this event, he would ensure that they would be just as miserable as he. If it weren't for Dorian's guidance, he would be hopelessly lost in the word games of court. David was a man of action, he knew it, he knew that Josephine knew it, and he had some inkling that this was her way of forcing him to break outside of the image he had begun to create for himself. So here they were, once again dressed in the Inquisitions formal attire, ready to face a gaggle of potential allies and foes, all hiding behind masks. The group had chosen to stick close to each other, rather than splitting up as they had during the Grand Duchess' ball. "I had hoped that our Ambassador would have been able to splurge for something a little less garish than these dreadful uniforms," Dorian's dulcet tones are tinged with distaste. "Tsk, these uniforms are unpractical," Cassandra sighs in disgust, "They make us stick out like a sore thumb, easier to target." "We don't have to stay long, Josephine said that we needed to make contact with the Marquis Etienne. Then we can take our drinks and leave," David muttered. Trying to shift the formal jacket to fit a little less tightly across his shoulders. He had a feeling that Josephine had had the jacket taken in after a few choice comments from Orlesian nobles in regards to his stature, but he had no proof, and Leliana had only done that infuriating smile when he had asked. The group moved as one across the grand entryway, heading towards the doors that led to the ballroom. Doing their best to ignore the stares and whispers directed at each of them. "The lady seeker-" "A magister! I-" "Wardens never look-" "His lordship-" What felt like a million voices fading into the background, making David's skin crawl. It was only the slight pressure of Dorian's fingers against his own that kept him grounded. He gave the Tevinter's hand a squeeze in return. Then moved to give their invitation to the page at the doors. Music floating just beyond the heavy wood. The sound of violins and harps accompanied by a masculine voice. As the doors open, the page's voice rings out. "His Lordship, David Trevelyan, Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste. Accompanied by the Seeker, Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine; Warden Blackwall; and His Lordship, Dorian Pavus, Scion of house Pavus, Altus of the Imperium." David couldn't help but feel relieved at the relatively short introduction. "Better than that droning on the last one did," Blackwall huffed a short chuckle, apparently sharing David's feelings on the matter. "I am just glad that he did not attempt to add all the honorifics, though I do love watching all the Orlesians squirm," Smirking, Dorian raises his chin to look down on all those staring. "Come on, let's go meet with the Marquis, so we can attempt to enjoy the rest of our evening." David's quiet voice barely carrying over the music. They move through the crowds with the ease of experienced veterans, dodging their way through the packed ballroom until they made it to the dais where their host sat upon his throne. The space behind him was hidden behind a veil, the silhouettes of the musicians visible just behind the thin cloth. The accompanying voice falling high and low with each note, soaring with emotions that the instruments couldn't capture. "Ah, Lord Inquisitor, what a deep honor to have you attend my little soiree. I do so apologize for the hasty invitations; however, it would seem as though I require your help." Marquis de Etienne bowed graciously before his guests. Waving them closer with a sweep of his hand. "Of course you do, everyone seems to these days," David dips his head in acknowledgement of the other noble. "Ah... um... yes, well," The Marquis stutters, caught off guard by the Inquisitors blasé attitude. "It would seem as though the Grand Duchess was not the only sympathizer in Orlais. I have heard whispers of others among the Council of Heralds, whom have also pledged their loyalty to Corypheous." "Would this information not have been better placed into Leliana's hands?" David interrupts the Marquis' rambling, wondering why exactly this needed his immediate attention. He catches the disgusted sigh Cassandra utters behind him, and Blackwall's accompanying chuckle. "Why, the lady Nightingale is of course more than capable of handling the matter, were it not so pressing. You see, I believe that I have managed to capture one such traitor this eve," Excitement bubbled up in the Marquis' voice, eyes lighting up behind the ornate mask. "You see, he had been invited long before any rumors-" David holds up a hand, stopped the man once more. "You mean to tell me.... that you have brought me here, to play spy on your behalf? If not vigilante?" "Why, my dear Inquisitor, you do get invited to the most amusing little parties," David can feel Dorian's smirk spreading without having to look at him. Taking a deep breath, hand still held to keep the Marquis from any further ramblings, the Inquisitor shakes his head in dismay. What had he ever done to deserve this? "Fine, we are here anyways. Might as well get this over with," grumbling, David looks to the rest of his companions. Watching as they nod in agreement. "What's the man's name?" "I... do not wish to speak it aloud, in case my informant is wrong. However," the Marquis snaps his fingers in the direction of the veil. When he does, the voice ceases it singing. There is a rustling sound as a shadow moves closer to the material, pressing it to the side. From behind the veil, comes a pale elf. Elegantly dressed in a robe of purple and silver silk. Black lace collar tight around his neck. "Vous m'avez demandé, Monsiuer Marquis?" The delicate voice calls out, making David's mouth go dry. He knew that voice. David lifted his gaze to watch the elf's face. His expression quickly turning to disbelief. "Yes, Cleandre, allow me to introduce you to his lordship, David Trevelyan, the Inquisitor," the Marquis took Cleandre's extended hand in his own, holding it as delicately as one might hold fine china. "My lord Inquisitor, allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite companions, and an entertainer of no small talent; Cleandre of Les Matins d'Opale." Cleandre's face lit up, a sly smile playing out on full lips. "Monsieur Trevelyan, how pleasant it is to see you again." Swallowing hard, David bows his head to Cleandre, ignoring the heated glances exchanged by his companions. "Ah! You know each other! Of course," the laughter accompanying the Marquis' exclamation made David's chest tighten, his face heating. With anger or embarrassment, he couldn't quite tell. "That makes this easier then. Cleandre was the one who advised me of the possible travesty, one of his.... patrons, made him aware of their loyalties." "Of course, he had expected my silence. But he did not realize that I would never betray my country. Les hommes ne croient jamais les autres capables ce dont ils ne sont pas eux-memes." "Cleandre ensured that I was made aware of this and was able to act swiftly enough to have you summoned here." "And, while the Marquis is more than willing to entertain my ideas, the Council of Heralds might have other ideas regarding my.... credibility, as a witness. Considering my particular line of work." Cleandre shrugs his shoulders delicately, waving off the discussion with a precise flick of his wrist. "I can see how that might affect things," Blackwall's voice rumbled with amusement at the situation. David refused to turn around, more afraid of seeing Dorian's face at the turn of events. "So, you want us to hunt down the man and get a confession out of him," Cassandra inquires. "I have heard that it is not the first time you and the Inquisitor have hunted down criminals who would otherwise escape the law in these tumultuous times." The Marquis counters. "Wine, Intrigue, and spies hidden as entertainment; are we quite sure we haven't wandered into Tevinter this time?" The edge to his voice belied Dorian's teasing statements. "I did so miss this aspect of these little parties at home. Perhaps we shall next visit a den of iniquity, or a den of blood mages? Would make me feel ever so at home." "Alright, I suppose we should get to work then," David runs a hand through his long hair, pushing it back from his face. Cleandre smirks, and reaches out to push back an escaping lock behind David's ear. The gentle touch enough to send chills down David's skin, memories flashing too quickly through his mind. Blackwall's not so delicate cough quickly bringing him back to the present. Pulling back, David turns to face his companions. "It is probably best if we don't talk about this out in the open. Why don't we all take a stroll through the gardens, I believe I saw an orchard in that direction." Waiting for acknowledgement of each, he then moves forward at a brisk pace. Not wanting this experience to last longer than it had to. He knew that Dorian would have questions, especially given Cleandre's actions towards himself. He also knew that Cleandre deserved more than the semi-cold treatment he had given the elf thus far. But the middle of a crowded room, with a man nearby who possibly wanted him dead on Corypheous' behalf, was not the place that David had envisioned for either conversation. He turned his head as he felt fingertips brush against his, knowing instantly that they did not belong to the man who now owned his heart. Cleandre leaned in, his breath tickling David's neck. "Mon Cherie, it would appear that you have quite changed since I last saw you. You have a different.... comment dites-vous... aura, about you." Smiley warmly, a hand pressed to David's bicep. The pressure of that hand was familiar, and friendly. But David knew that he should pull away. "Yes." "Come now, mon cherie, there should be no bad blood between we two. Have I done something to offend?" That musical voice held a note of hurt. "No, it... no. You haven't done anything, I just," David sighs, his eyes flicking back to land on Dorian's face. The smile coming to his lips was unplanned. He turns back to look down on the petite elf. "It cannot be as it was before, between us. I appreciate what you did for me. But-" "I am not blind." Cleandre presses his finger to David's lips, smiling wide with the soft words. "It is not my desire to interfere, only to help." The rest of the walk in is silence. David wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Dorian, to ensure that his lover knew who exactly had captured his heart. And possibly to continue this avenue of friendship that the petite elf had started them upon. When they reached the grove, the tall trees easily blocking them from view of anyone who did not go out of their way to spy upon them, each stopped. "So, tell me, elf, what is it that you know about this supposed Venatori sympathizer?" Ever quick to get down to details, Cassandra crosses her arms as she glares down at Cleandre. "Many things cross lips that are no longer occupied by pleasant past times, my sweet lady," rising a jaunty eyebrow, Cleandre meets Cassandra's glare. Not faltering in the least, despite the woman's fierce reputation. "I think you are going to have to clarify that. Might just be me, but I get the feeling pillow talk isn't quite the answer that the Lady Seeker was looking for," Blackwall does his best to hide his smile behind his fist, under the guise of clearing his throat. "True. The Lord Marquis spoke truly, I am often called upon to entertain some of the higher nobility. I have been often praised for both my skills as an actor, and a companion. One of the Council of Heralds has often summoned me to his winter home when the nights grow cold. One such night, he felt more distant than usual. When I offered him compassion, he advised me that a 'certain person of unimaginable power', was pressuring him to find a chink in the newfound hold that the Inquisition has over Orlais." Every word was clear and concise. There was no doubt that he spoke truly, only that he wished to provide the most accurate account of the event. "Comte Lothaire Doucy. Not one of the better-known nobles, but still powerful enough that, should he choose to turn against Orlais, we may see yet another civil war ravage my dear country." "A shame, truly," Dorian huffed. "To see your country torn to little bits by those power mad and willing to sacrifice their lessers-" David couldn't take it anymore. He pulled Dorian in tight to him, pressing the man to his chest. Arms wrapping around his shoulders. Their lips pressed hard and tight together. He ignored the sound of Cassandra's dreamy sigh, and Blackwall's amused huff. The sound of Cleandre's pleased chuckle. He let himself focus only on Dorian. Smiling at the soft whimper that escaped the Tevinter's lips. It felt like a life time. It felt like only a moment. When the two finally parted, David cut off Dorian's fussing. "Cleandre already told me he knew about us. Cassandra and Blackwall have put up with more than this for months now. I couldn't bear the guilt, thinking that you might be upset with me. This seemed the best way to show you, that having someone from my past near, did not affect our future." "S'il vous plait, be vous en faites pas. Do not worry about me, I beg you. It pleases me greatly to see my friend care for someone so deeply," Cleandre clasped at Dorian's hands, pressing them to his chest. "I hope that, once this is taken care of, perhaps all three of us might be able to find time away. To... talk, be merry. It might be my job to entertain others, but I swear, it would be my pleasure to ensure that the both of you find some escape from all these terrible things." "I can't seem to tell if you are offering help or a hand," the tension slowly eases out of Dorian's shoulders. Still held tightly by both David and Cleandre. His joke breaks any remaining doubts that David held. "Yes, well," Cassandra purses her lips, trying to hide the fact that she had swooned at the romantic display. "We cannot simply arrest the man without proof." "Perhaps," Blackwall's deep voice rumbles as he thinks his words through with care. "We can lay a trap. He has confessed to you once already, it shouldn't be difficult to get him to admit it once more." "I would prefer something in writing." David mumbles to himself, still wrapped up in Dorian. "Or hey, even having him attack us." "Ce n'est pas grave. I can arrange for either. Just a few words at the right time, and boom!" Cleandre imitated a small explosion with his hands. Smiling broadly. Dorian and David pulled away from each other. David watching the others consider this possibility. "It does have a certain charm to it," smirking, Dorian raises an eyebrow. "And it would leave no room for misunderstandings that might let him escape the gallows," Blackwall nods. Approval written clearly on his face. "Must we?" Rolling her eyes, Cassandra huffs in disgust. "Very well." A fairly clear plan set out, the group had agreed that each individual should leave the grove in different directions. So as to not draw attention to themselves. Slowly they trickled away, until only Dorian, David, and Cleandre were left in the small clearing. "While I cannot say that I am comfortable with this budding understanding, I admit that this is new to me. Feeling jealousy, having someone to feel jealous over," Dorian chewed on his lip even as he spoke. Avoiding catching Cleandre's gaze. "So long as you clearly understand that David is off limits to your appetite. I suppose we shall have to learn how to deal with the rest." David slipped his hand into Dorian's, fingers intertwining. "Yes, of course. I would not dream to ruin what you might have with each other. Any past tryst is just that, past. Though, I am very happy to see David doing well, I was quite concerned when he did not keep his word to send me a letter." "I... am sorry. I didn't know what to say, or how to say it," David let's his gaze fall. Feeling his cheeks heat with shame. "I did mean to. I just-" "Do not worry, I understand how it can be, mon cherie. I am not so naïve as to believe that every sweet kiss holds a new hope. I am grateful that I was able to relieve you of your stress, more so to know that you did in fact think of me. But now, we should focus on our prey. It is quite exciting, perhaps I shall have to offer my services to the Inquisition more often." "I am more than certain we could find a use for them," David smiles lightly, meeting his friends gaze. Now with pride. Even if they were not able to catch this particular fox. He was glad to know that he had one more friend he could count on. Such friends were far too few, as the world currently stood.
***
A gorgeous and amazing fiction by the adorable @marquis1305 - a little gift to @lwinged , because you allowed David to “meet” your lovely OC Cleandre.
