#opal adaar

Vivienne thought back to her time in court, the many trends that went and gone, sometimes in the span of a week.  The ostentatious, the vulgar, the so-horrendously-ugly-it-was-brave, the so-horrendously-ugly-it-was-just-ugly, and sometimes, rarely, the truly beautiful.

“I have seen them,” Vivienne placed her cup on it’s saucer without the slightest sound,  “That one could afford to replace a fitted glass slipper whenever it shattered was meant to be a sign of wealth, of course.  The shattering only a small price to pay.”  She remembered that Satinalia many years ago, the golden ballroom floor covered in shards of glass and stained with deep red footprints.

“Guess having shoes you could walk in would ruin the point.” Opal sipped her tea again, her eyes lowered but unimpressed.

Vivienne shook her head.  “In the Grand Game, many will try to hurt you.  To do it to yourself is foolish.  You simply give your enemies more ammunition.  You may well do better to commission enchanted slippers, which get the point across just the same.”

“Enchanted slippers,” Opal hummed, a thoughtful look across her face, “Those might be nice.”

“I highly recommend them.” Vivienne looked down into her tea, but didn’t take a sip.  “I acquired my first pair when I started playing The Game, and I haven’t owned an ordinary pair since.”  She smiled at the memory in the fading light of the balcony, but it shadows weren’t enough to hide her expression.  Opal looked at her, her own expression clear and interested, so Vivienne continued.

“After the Duke and I first met, he sent me gifts, and a letter.” She still had the letter, a fact the Inquisitor didn’t need to know.  “I sent him a letter back, of course.  Of how much I enjoyed the ball, and how my feet ached from all of our dancing.  I was not yet...fully polished in the art of the game.  But after that letter, he sent me a package.  A pair of red slippers, with a delicate heel and small ruby brooches.  I could have been barefoot and it would not have felt as comfortable.”

She still had those slippers as well, back at Bastien’s estate, even though they were now horribly out of style.

When Vivienne looked Opal in the eye, she was smiling, in a way that Vivienne did not like at all.  

“Now, then,” Vivienne finished her tea with a last, quiet sip, “If you will excuse me, Inquisitor, I’m reminded of some letters I must attend to.”

Opal gulped down the last of her tea.  When Vivienne gave her the appropriate judging stare, Opal stood, back straight, and politely bowed her head.  “Thank you, Madame De Fer, for your time.”  

Not long after Halamshiral, Vivienne sat on the balcony again, reading alchemy books from Skyhold’s library.  So engrossed in their ancient recipes, she almost did not hear the messenger approaching.  Almost.

“First Enchanter, there is a package for you from the Inquisitor.” The young woman said, holding a parcel in her hands.

“Thank you, my dear.”  Vivienne sat upright in her seat as she took the package from the messenger, who gave a respectful bow of her head before hurrying off.  Vivienne waited, the quiet tapping of the girl’s shoes slowly fading until she could no longer be heard or seen, before she opened the package.

Inside, wrapped in silks, was a pair of glass shoes.  But unlike the ones she remembered from that Satinalia, shining and smooth but often plain and molded perfectly to the wearer’s feet, these slippers had glass built onto the surface, geometric shaped pieces of mirror-like glass in various shades of blue with lines of black bordering each piece, like a Serrault stained-glass window.  At the throat of each shoe was a small brooch, it’s frame surrounded by triangular, icicle-like silver points and their centers, not jewels, but smooth, crystal-blue rune stones.  

She slipped her into them, the soft black soles comfortable on her feet.  Where the slippers had been was a small, folded piece of parchment.  She picked it up and began to read it as she walked across the balcony, testing the shoes.

Vivienne,

Hope you don’t mind that I asked your shoemaker for your measurements.  I wanted to thank you for all your help.  Don’t know if I would’ve survived Halamshiral without your guidance.  Maybe when I’m back at Skyhold, and when the Duke recovers from his illness, we could go see him together.  Bet you’d knock him out in those shoes.

-Opal

Vivienne beamed, first at the letter, its sentiment, and its atrocious handwriting, and then down at the slippers, as they caught the sun’s light and made refracted patterns across the balcony.  She looked around, left, then right, until she was sure no one was around to see her, and spun on the balls of her feet, feeling as light as she did when she met Bastien for the first time.  

She looked back at her alchemy books, and nodded with a renewed determination, knowing she only needed one more ingredient.  When the Inquisitor returned, she would ask, and maybe...

Maybe Bastien and I will dance again.

DA100 #15: Dancing

“Hey, Bumblebee.” Opal said, and Sera realized that the Inquisitor had a bottle of wine, a glass in her hand, and another glass on the table.  “Join me?”

“How long you been there, drinking in the dark?” Sera squeaked, her heart beating rapidly.

“Not as long as you’d think.” Opal said.  She took a sip of her wine, “You should have some, it’s good shit.”

Sera looked around suspiciously, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the kitchen.  She sat down on the chair next to Opal for a moment, then got up and sat on the table cross-legged.  She poured herself a glass of wine and downed half of it in the time it took to fill.  “So, do you do this all the time?” Sera said in-between gulps, “Just sneak into the kitchens and drink alone, like something out of Varric’s books?”

“Only when I hear someone’s been stealing.”

Sera choked.  The Inquisitor continued to casually sip her wine with one hand, and pat Sera on the back with the other.  Before Sera could say anything with her mostly clear throat, Opal spoke again.

“You can let them know if you want something, Sera.”

Sera squirmed a bit as she poured herself more wine.  “What if they say no?”

Opal shrugged.  “Well, you hungry?”

Sera responded with a flippant shrug of her own. “I’m always hungry.” She said, drinking half the glass in one go.

“Then they’ll feed you.  That’s kinda their job, Bumblebee.”

Sera fidgeted, feeling like she had an itch she couldn’t scratch.  Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the inquisitor, or both.  Or maybe neither.  Wine made things fuzzy, was all she knew.

“Did you ever steal?” Sera asked, looking at Opal out of the corner of her eye while tapping her fingernails on her glass, tink tink tink, “Before you were Her Heraldness?”

Opal sipped, “A couple of times, when coin was low.” She looked up from her own glass and smirked, “Might surprise you, but most people don’t put sovereigns in the hat of a Qunari minstrel.”

“You had a hat?” Sera giggled, “Was it one of those poncy Orlesian ones, with the feathers and shit?  Did it fit between, like-?” she gestured at the top of her own head, where horns would be.

Opal snorted, the loudest she’d been in the whole conversation, “I didn’t wear it, I just kinda figured you were supposed to have one.”

Sera laughed, but something stopped her almost mid-cackle. She frowned into her wine, and took another large gulp.  “Bet it was balls,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “I’ve seen you play.  Bet they would’ve given you gold if-” she huffed, and took another swig of her wine.

Opal expelled a small breath, like a cross between a laugh and a sigh.  “Who knows.” She said.  Her smile was small and wistful, and to Sera she suddenly seemed farther away.  Sera shook her head as if that might make things clearer, but it only seemed to make everything seem heavier and less focused. More like real things and less like fun.

“Sorry.  About this. Habits, and not starving, and stuff. You get it, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re here, and awake, and I did that.  I know how much you like sleeping.”

Opal stood up and stretched “You’re right.”  She then held her arm out for Sera’s glass.  “I do like sleeping.” Sera handed her the mostly empty wine glass.  Opal held a wine glass in each hand, where they glowed slightly, lighting up her gentle, tired expression.  Before the light from Opal’s hands went out, Sera squinted at the glasses: there was no longer any trace of wine.

“Weird.” Sera said, wrinkling her nose again.

“Well, next time you can wash the dishes.” Opal said dryly. Sera stuck out her tongue, and Opal stuck her tongue out back.  She turned to put the glasses over on a shelf, along with the empty wine bottle.  Then she turned back around and leaned against the table top.  “Want me to walk you back?”

Sera looked at Opal, and then to the floor.  When she stood up on the table, she nearly hit her head on the cured sausages hanging from one of the beams.  Sera stumbled, and looked down at Opal for a change.  “This how you feel all the time?”

“Not drunk, but yeah, kinda.”

“Do you think we can-? Like we talked about-?” Sera could barely get the idea out before Opal started to chuckle.  She walked over to the edge of the table closest to Sera, turned her back, and hunched over slightly.  Sera practically jumped on her back, causing Opal to stumble but not to fall.

“Gentle, Bumblebee.  If I crack my head open and die, I won’t be able to close rifts, and we’re gonna have to give you the mark to do it.”

“Shut it, you can’t do that,” Sera grumbled, holding on tightly around Opal’s neck.  Wine and the Inquisitor’s confidence swished her doubts around in her head.  “You can’t, right?”

“Nah.” 

Opal lightly kicked the kitchen door open, the quiet of the kitchens giving way to the quiet of Skyhold’s night.  She walked through the courtyard, her boots make loud swishing and thumping sounds against the grass.  She looked up at the full moon and smiled.  “What a sight, huh Bumblebee?”

Sera looked up at the light she had avoided not so long ago.  It wasn’t so rewarding as the warmth of the sun to Sera, but something about felt comforting just the same.  She closed her eyes.

“Hey Sera?” Opal said.  Her voice was soft.

“Whatsit?”

Opal chuckled again, a soft humming sound, “For a terrifying Red Jenny, you can’t hold your wine for shit.”

Sera tried for an insult, but the words swum around more in the wine.  So she dug her face into Opal’s silver white locs and settled for a mumbled “Piss off.”

She has a patched-up satchel hanging from her shoulder, and even before she takes the contents of it out, he can feel something ringing.  A song of the long lived, of flame and fear, something cracked and carved and then given to caring hands in the under croft, oh, this will be beautiful...

Opal brings the object out into full view, a dagger.  It shines like a beetle, black and blue in the bright light.  “It’s for you,” she says, “You do good work Cole.  Thought I’d have them whip you up something special.” 

He takes the dagger by its hilt, but it pulses just so, like it wonders whether it should hold still in his hands.

“It kills demons.”

She nods.  “Well, any dagger can kill demons if you work hard enough. But this one’s better for it.  Enchanted and everything.”

He turns the dagger around in the light.  It makes him shiver, a strange reaction for...whatever he is now. “Kill, and defend.  It isn’t sure which.  It won’t work if I wield it.”

Even without looking at her from beyond the rim of his hat, he can tell Opal is staring at him.  Brows furrowed, fear, not for herself but for...

“Cole, it can’t think for itself.” She gently touches the blade of the dagger with her left hand, and he wonders if the anchor helps her feel it’s song, “You said it kills demons, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, you don’t got anything to worry about.” Lifting up the brim of his hat with her other hand, she looks him in the eyes with a smile. “All magic is, is intent.  Your will against its will.  And you know what you are more than a dagger does, yeah?”  He’s not sure what sort of look he gives her, but she lets the brim go with a fond sigh.

Her other hand leaves the dagger as well, and he finds it....not quite still, but more peaceful.  Gentle but firm, the enemy of my enemy.  He nods.  “It will keep me on the right path.” he murmurs, “Kill and defend.  If I stray, use it against me.”

Another sigh, less fond this time.  “If it comes to that.” She says, patting the top of his hat.  “You need anything?”

He shakes his head, and suddenly remembers.  “Thank you.” 

Her chuckling is a soft sound, like the breeze.  “Anytime, kid.  I’ll see you later.”

She walks away, lazy and long-limbed strides taking her to the steps and down the battlements.  He stares down at the dagger again, his eyes vaguely distant and distorted in the dark blade; a reminder and a promise.  Lifting his head back up, he looks in the direction the Inquisitor.  “Maybe.” he responds, even though she’s already gone.

“Opal?” Josephine said tentatively.

Opal raised her head up, and gave her a tired smile.  “Hey, Kadan.”

Josephine walked over to the couch and sat by Opal’s side.  “I expected you to be sleeping, when you didn’t come to the door.”

Opal chuckled, in the soft, humming way she often did.  “Couldn’t sleep.”

The surprise must have shown on Josephine’s face, because Opal chuckled again, “You must’ve been worried, you haven’t even judged me for the mess.”

Josephine blinked, and then looked around the room more carefully, noticing far more things on the floor and on the bed than in chests.  How did she not see it before? She groaned.  “Oh, my love, it’s even worse than it was this morning!”

At that Opal gave a loud, proper laugh.  “There’s my girl.”  and gave Josephine a kiss on the temple.  Josephine huffed, but shouldn’t help but smile.  “If you do not mind my asking,” she said, “What have you been doing?”

Opal rolled her shoulders, and began staring at the lute again.  In a moment a few sweet notes began to play, and, despite their slowness, Josephine recognized the song: an Antivan love ballad.  Just as she began to hum the tune, the music stopped.

“It’s...” Opal began, a little weary “It’s gonna take a while, to be able to get a whole song out.  I really have to focus to make it sound even a little good, and it makes me kind of tired.”  She leaned back against the couch, closing her eyes for a moment and then opening one to look over at Josephine.  “Maryden taught me that song, before....well, y’know.  I was gonna play it for you, after the council.”

As if against her own will Josephine gave a dreamy sigh. Opal chuckled again, and Josephine gave her a playful nudge. “Don’t make fun!”

Opal wrapped her right arm around Josephine’s waist to bring her closer.  “Me?  Make fun of you, Lady Montilyet?” She gave a mischievous grin, “Never.”  

Josephine leaned in, tilting her head up to bring her lips to Opal’s, and she smiled into the kiss.  Opal clung to her a little tighter, and Josephine swore that, in time with the movement, she heard music.  Slightly off key and stilted music, but music nonetheless.

...Yes, she was definitely sure it was music.  But when she broke away from the kiss, just slightly, it stopped.  “Were you doing that?”

Opal smiled sheepishly. “Yeah.  Thought it’d, y’know, go with the mood.”

Josephine couldn’t help it, she laughed, louder than the wind from the open balconies, louder than the crackling of the fire, filling the room.  In a moment Opal joined her, her laugh like an echo of Josephine’s, her tall frame leaning against Josephine’s smaller one, their hands finding each other after a while, tears in both their eyes.

“You, my dear Inquisitor, are a romantic.” Josephine teased.

Opal smiled, leaning her head against the top of the couch,  “Not really ‘Inquisitor’ anymore, but yeah.  I’ll fess up to the last part.” 

It was almost imperceptible, the change.  Opal’s smile faded a bit, her eyes closed, and her shoulders dropped just as they did when she was in her moods.  

“The Inquisition may be disbanding,” Josephine said,  “but many people will still know you as their Inquisitor.”

Opal opened one if her eyes, the greyish-green color looking more like the deep stone color of her skin in the low light.  “Won’t mean much without this place.”  She took her hand from Josephine’s and turned her body forward, facing the lute again.

“Y’know, it’s funny.” She started, staring at the lute.  It remained silent, “This place has been more home than...anywhere, really.  And now we’re leaving it behind, and we’ve still got all that....shit to deal with, with Solas, and-” She sighed as the lute played a note off-key.

“Whenever I got....like there was too much of everything, I could always play.  That’s one thing I knew I could do.  But now?  Now it’s just....” the lute played a few notes again, the beginning of a sad ballad Josephine recognizes, of a soldier after the fourth blight with nothing left but nightmares of battle.  The song stops almost as quickly as it began. 

Josephine looked at the lute, back at Opal, and to the lute again.  She then got up from the couch to take the lute from it’s stand.  “Perhaps...we can play together?”

Opal stared at her, eyes widening a little, as Josephine placed the lute on Opal’s lap.  “Surely we can play approaching decently, with your experience, and my-”

“Left hand?” Opal supplied, smirking.  

“I was going to say ‘assistance,’ but yes.” Josephine put her right arm behind Opal and around her waist, getting as close as possible as she placed her left hand on the instrument’s neck.  “But do forgive me, it has been quite a while and I haven’t-”

Before she knew it Opal was kissing her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth.  She turned her head to meet Opal’s, and the shared a warm, deep kiss.  When it was done, Opal leaned her forehead onto Josephine’s, her eyes closed but her face lit up with a smile.

“Thank you, Kadan.”

Josephine smiled in kind.  “Don’t thank me just yet,” she chuckled, “I was not the most....musically proficient bard, of all of my colleagues.”

Opal laughed, kissing Josephine on the forehead.  She looked down at her lute, plucking a few strings as Josephine held down some of them at the fret, and beamed.  “Don’t worry, Kadan.” she said, “We’ll figure it out.”

DA100 #5, Music

Notes: Recommended listening, for those wondering about the title