Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sometimes I really believe it, that I am going to save my life a little.

Mary Oliver, from section 4 of “The Return”, What Do We Know: Poems and Prose Poems

The courtyard is quiet; it’s the perfect time of day for this, after all. Not too early where everyone is rising to their tasks for the day, nor too late where there is foot traffic of people coming and going. She sees her target, and—

“Psst.”

“Oh!” The person startles, and then focuses. “How can I help you?”

Adanna, wearing a hood and trying oh-so-hard to be inconspicuous, looks back and forth before leaning closer. “Did my gift come in yet?”

“Oh! Oh, yes, Inqui- Esteemed customer,” she corrects, remembering what the girl had asked her: I am trying to keep this ‘on the low’, it is a Satinalia gift. Can you help me?

Of course, Bonny Sims found her endearing and could not resist. It took her weeks, but the gift in question was finally delivered to her just a few days ago: the original Montilyet family crest.

Truth be told, it was rather difficult to procure this item, but it’s also rather difficult to disappoint the Inquisitor. Bonny only knows her from the times she has stopped to chat — which, of a girl of her elevated station in life, is more often than one would expect — but even she was instantly endeared.

Bonny pulls a nondescript looking box from under the stand and hands it to the cloaked girl, glad her fond smile is hidden behind her mask.

“Here you go, In—Here you go.” Bonny hastily corrects again.

Another thing that is rather difficult: not addressing the girl by her proper title. Which she insists upon during every conversation, not just during odd schemes.

“What do I owe you?”

“Nothing, my dear,” Bonny says sweetly. “Take it free of cost. Anything for the Inquisition.”

Then, the Inquisitor does something completely unexpected—and so unseemly! It just isn’t done! She practically launches herself at Bonny, who takes an uneasy step back before registering the smaller body wrapped against hers.

A hug.

Oh, this is... She gently hugs the girl back, like she is a precious dove who may break.

It may not be considered correct in what she considers polite society to show affection so openly, but it’s the Inquisitor. And never mind that —how is she supposed to deny her anything when she—

“There,” the teenager smiles up at her, eyes sparkling. “Paid?”

Bonny Sims finds herself smiling back, even if the girl cannot truly see it. “Paid in full. Thank you for your business.”

The Inquisitor scrambles off and Bonny Sims turns back to her stall to see several people milling around; some openly gaping in the wake of that display.

The rumor mill will have itself a party with that, Bonny thinks. Let them eat themselves alive over it. Hmph.

“Staring is unbecoming!” Bonny huffs in irritation. “Get back to your business.”

Adanna giggles as she scuttles back to her chambers, past the attendants and Sera, dodging the curious hands of Cullen who intended to tickle her and no doubt interrogate her on her mysterious package. She hides it with all the other gifts she’s accumulated, with many more to come.

Chapter Text

you’re so polite with your sadness. you don’t want to ruin this for anyone.

Silas Denver Melvin, from “Twenty”, Grit

Her eyes blink open, the ringing in her ears finally subsiding as she shakes the unholy singing from her mind. Satinalia! 

It’s finally Satinalia, and Adanna is up before everyone else. She has presents to carefully get ready, her outfit to put on, so many things to do!

She notices a woven crown of prophet’s laurel and crystal grace sitting on her desk and she jumps out of bed. Probably Cole. Without people helping, her outfit is a little difficult, but she manages the ties herself.

Adanna flushes when she sees herself in the mirror, her crown and outfit. She’s wearing flat shoes, her face is half masked, as per tradition, with a golden and glittering mask that curls on each opposite end just slightly. Her outfit is a deep royal purple with gold edges, a robe looking garment that's made to allow movement so she can dance without her tripping. It flows around her easily and the dark green of her crown compliments the rich color perfectly.

The family heirloom for Josephine, the perfume for Leliana, the book of magic for Vivienne, the dragon tooth daggers for Cassandra and Bull, the knitted dragon — also for Bull…

Her internal cataloguing of presents is interrupted by a knock on her door. 

“Inquisitor! May we come in?”

“Good morning!” She chirps back to the door, opening it with a wide gesture. “Oh, hello Josie! Io Satinalia!”

“Io Satinalia, Adanna,” Josephine replies warmly, entering the room. “You’re dressed already? Goodness! Come, come, we have much to prepare for the day. Are you excited?”

“Very,” Adanna grinned, thinking of the presents she got for everyone. “A week of partying? How could I not be excited?”

Josephine smiles brightly at Adanna’s good humor and happy demeanor. It’s not often that she’s in such good spirits, and it lifts her own to see her in such a state.

Her other visitor is Leliana, who entered behind the Ambassador. Both of them have… oh.

Gifts? For me?

Somehow, she hadn’t taken stock of the concept that people… would also want to give her gifts, too. 

She just wanted to finally celebrate the holiday with people she cared about, and wanted to give them the gifts she had spent so long on. But she hadn’t considered that she would have to grapple with the idea that…

That they care enough to get you presents? That they want to? Her mind suggests unhelpfully, and she shakes her head.

“Io Satinalia, Leliana,” she says finally, her feet, without her prompting them, bringing her to the settee where Josephine and Leliana went, the latter eagerly adding logs and re-starting the fire from the embers of the night before in the morning cold of Adanna’s room.

Adanna snaps out of it half way there. “One second!”

She darts to ‘the hiding place’ — the closet in her room with a ladder — and several minutes later carries down the Montilyet family crest and the perfume, barely managing to not fall. The crest is delicately wrapped, and the perfume in a box with a pretty bow.

“Here,” she breathes, out of breath, standing in front of the settee. She hands the crest to Josephine and the box to Leliana.

“How ever did you acquire these?” Leliana asks, amusement in her voice, but an undeniable softness in her eyes, gently cupping the box in her lap.

“Favors, or I paid for them,” Adanna shrugs, earning a strange look from the two women, and adds; “Always money on corpses.”

Josephine puts a hand on her head, rubbing slightly. “Adanna…”

It sounds like she mutters something like, quella ragazzina sarà la causa della mia morte.

Leliana’s eyebrows had jumped slightly, but then she did a nod to herself that Adanna took to mean an acknowledgement of, well, what else would she have done?

“You could have asked for money, you realize,” Leliana says with no small amount of amusement as she passes Adanna her present from her.

“I… could have? You would give me money?” Adanna blinks widely at the Spymaster.

Leliana sighed through her nose, put her gift aside and pulled the girl into a hug. “Of course, we would not leave you without money to spend.”

Adanna is constantly awed by how wrong she is about them, about how much sovereignty they give her, and she feels tears welling up in her eyes.

“I-Thank you.” She replies thickly, wondering if she realizes the gift she’s just given her in itself. 

By the sparkling, genuine look in Leliana’s eyes when the three of them face each other, she does.

“Adanna? Are you crying, tesoro?” Josephine asks, coming closer on the settee to brush a hand over Subira’s head.

“You-” She wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm, “You trust me. You would give me my own money to spend on things.”

She knows it’s bare minimum, but it’s a minimum she hasn’t had. 

She’s just… happy.

She’s allowed to be happy.

“We can set up a proper allowance for you after the ball and Satinalia,” Josephine suggests, but the girl doesn’t respond to it.

“You have to open your presents,” Adanna insists, wiping her eyes on her palm again, squeezing the rest of the pesky tears out. “Come on, seriously. We can handle that later.”

Adanna steps back with a wide smile while Josephine and Leliana move their attention to their presents, each taking care to delicately not harm the wrappings.

Josephine’s loud gasp startled the woman next to her. 

“What is it, Josie?” Leliana leaned over slightly, trying to get a look.

“The Montilyet family crest,” Josephine murmured, looking up at Adanna tearily from where she stood, hesitant. “How did you…”

“Do you remember when you mentioned it, we were talking about… something,” Adanna scrunched her nose up, unable to remember what mundane political topic they had been discussing, “I asked about your family when it came up, and you mentioned this was missing. I cashed in a favor.”

Josephine gently puts it aside and stands, pulling her into a hug. “I love it,” she says, voice thick. “It is the best present I have been given.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Josephine pulled back and pressed a kiss to her forehead and murmured something suspiciously close to gracias, mija.

Leliana finishes opening her box with a delighted smile, pulling the perfume from it. “Perfume oil?”

“Try it,” Adanna urges, eyes alight. The fire seems to breathe with her.

The Spymaster gently tips the vial over onto her wrist, lifting it up to her nose, and then her eyes light up with recognition while her eyebrows lift in delighted surprise. “Andrastes Grace?”

“You mentioned once... do you remember how you mentioned you really like Andrastes Grace? I decided to get you a perfume scented with them. Do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” Leliana replies, always reminded of her mother when presented with Andraste’s Grace, but now it’s fond and warm instead of painful, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Thank you, Adanna.”

“You have to open ours now,” Josephine insists, pushing them into her hands, and Adanna smiles, the joy of the holiday washing over her in gentle waves.

There was a whole day of dancing and speeches — strangely, Adanna didn’t mind them, as she only had to give one, the rest were by Chantry Mothers and other important people that she didn’t know tit from tat. 

She spent the day breathless, giggling and trading dance partners from companion to companion. 

When things finally wound down for the very first evening, she found herself in the Herald’s Rest, surrounded by her Inner Circle, most with gifts to give and Varric shuffling cards with a wicked glint in his eyes. Adanna knew that look and she smiled when he started pestering people to play.

Adanna was leaning against Dorian’s arm, her head full of fuzz after the goblet of champagne Leliana let her have, warm and floating in the din of the noisy tavern. Bull was next to Dorian, with Sera on his other side, putting down alcohol like it was nobody’s business. 

Vivienne and Josephine were engaged in a spirited discussion about an apparently rather petty and, from their descriptions, foolish Countess, and Leliana sipped at a glass of wine that Adanna had just watched Cole manage to mix honey into without the vigilant Spymaster noticing - which was pretty amusing to watch. 

Everyone seemed to be… relaxing. It made her shoulders drop. The tension that had been collecting there just… fell away for a bit. She didn’t realize how much good a holiday together could do.

Her focus is taken when interest in a game of Wicked Grace is being gauged, and Sera slaps her hands down on the table, burping loudly.

Even this familiar action, as uncouth as it is, brings a fond feeling to Adanna.

“Hey, you lot!”

Unfortunately Sera’s shout got the attention of most in the area rather than just the intended Inner Circle, but Cassandra barked to the tavern occupants to, “go back to your business,” and everyone settled.

Sera continued like the Seeker hadn’t interrupted and said, “A game of cards, yeah? It’s Satinalia! Festivities! Fun! Gambling,” she wiggled her eyes at Adanna in a way that made her giggle and the elf continued her antics, “Aww what’s wrong Commander, afraid to lose all your coin again?”

Cullen sunk further into his seat before grumbling, taking a gulp of his ale and throwing some coin down.

One by one the Inner Circle gathered closer and threw various amounts of coin down, each with their own drinks and gifts accompanying them.

“Can I give you guys gifts first? If I have yet to give you a gift already yet, that is,” Adanna asks, sitting on her hands to keep the excitement from rising out of her.

“Of course you can,” Varric said to the table to announce what they were doing, but his face was pointed towards the clearly disappointed Sera, already cups deep and about to make a fuss about it, but his firm expression didn’t budge.

Adanna squealed in excitement and got up, blinking when her vision was spotted from getting up too fast. Right. Have to go slower. 

Shaking her head, she moves to the corner where Krem and Dalish had helped her pile up on a chair, beginning to hastily pass them out. 

There were several noises and comments as the presents got passed out. When everyone had their present, she stood in front of her seat and grabbed her mug.

“I just want to say…”

Her words fell short looking at a group of people who care about her, are working for the greater good by her side, who love her despite her past—no, in spite of it. She watched Sera pester Bull with fondness in her chest, gazed at Varric’s tapping pencil and smile, and she smiled.

“Well. I just wanted to say that I have never met a more brave, dedicated, and… caring group,” she said timidly now, head ducked slightly. “I am very thankful I get to share my Satinalia with you and these gifts. I know I am not the easiest to deal with… I know I have not made things easy. Thank you for being by my side, and io Satinalia.”

“That was a lovely speech, Ana,” Bull rumbled. “Here, here! To the Inquisitor! To Adanna!”

It’s still a wonder to her to hear them call her by her first name now and not her code-name. 

The table rallied around Bull, some more enthusiastically— or loudly— than others, but all with the same amount of fondness and vehemence behind the action.

“Here, here,” Cassandra said proudly, “to our Inquisitor.”

“How many cups in are you, Cass?” Adanna giggled, noting the flushed cheeks.

Cassandra scoffed but didn’t reply, a grin that she couldn’t keep from spreading giving her fake irritation away.

“I just want to give you the proper acknowledgement,” the Seeker protests, rolling her eyes. “You have done everything that has been asked of you and more. You are truly Maker sent.”

Adanna almost felt tears form in her eyes. “Cass…”

“Who’s ready to open these things?” Bull rumbled, always Adanna’s savior in social situations. “Adanna already gave me hers earlier.”

Several curious noises led to the reveal of the giant, masterfully crafted dragontooth dagger and the beautiful leather sheath for his harness, followed by appreciative noises.

Cassandra’s lips suddenly split in a smile as she felt the shape of her gift, looking at Subira with playfully narrowed eyes, and she began to gently open her gift. 

“Oh, Adanna. This is absolutely...”

The blade was similar to The Iron Bull’s, except the obsidian handle was replaced for its own unique steel handle; really the only similar thing was that the teeth were both from the same dragon. They were completely different styles of blades as well, and vastly different in size, considering the difference in size of the tooth used. Cassandra was awed by the thought and care put into such a kind and useful gift.

She finally looked up from it with a wide smile, uncaring of if her scar caught. “It is wonderful, thank you.”

Adanna looked absolutely delighted and looked expectantly towards the others, who opened their presents one by one, each careful with the wrapping.

Dorian received an old Tevinter manuscript she had found quite accidentally on a trip in the Western Approach — but when your companion studies them, it makes a great gift.

For Varric she gifted personalized VT and Tethras stamps for his letters, the metal shiny and gold, along with brand new quills and ink pots. She also got him letter sealing materials and pigmented wax. 

Sera received new arrows and a basket of homemade cookies — hers was the hardest to get downstairs and wrap; considering she also had to do it last night.

(And had to find time to practice baking cookies in between literally everything else she does. And find time to do it in private.

Which meant bribery. And avoiding certain people who wouldn’t be able to be bribed. And very specific timing.

Really, Sera’s cookies was one of the hardest gifts.)

For Cullen, she gifted him a brand new down pillow and a fur blanket made from a bear she had killed in the Hinterlands. Throughout the week, she’s arranged for the hole in his bedroom to be fixed while he’s busy.

By the end of Satinalia, it’ll be repaired, but filled with glass — and openable — so he can still see the sky. Dagna was especially excited to work on the mechanics that went into that, saying she’d ‘improve the basic design’.

(Hopefully Cullen appreciated the improvements and didn’t find them a nuisance.

If he did, she hoped it was the thought that counted. Isn’t that something people said?)

Vivienne of course had to receive the best. She made sure this week would be special for everyone by arranging things. For her first gift, a new pair of heels. By the end of the week she’d have an entire matching outfit.

Cole was beyond enthralled. He had more gifts as well, but he had said to her once if he could have one thing it would be a frog.

(It certainly was hard, but she managed to get one in the garden, relatively mess free. Now Cole stares, mesmerized by the creature.)

Solas receives brand new seashell pigment paints — that she had harvested herself from the shore of the Exalted Plains to be refined. 

His eyes light up at the thoughtful gift. “Thank you, da’lath’in.”

Many thank yous arose from the group and hugs were given out, and things settled down as they got ready to give Adanna gifts and then play.

Little did her companions know that she had more gifts planned for all of them, this one she was excited for over the week. A scavenger hunt around the castle to find out what the gift is. There would be others, as well.

But she would savor each minute of every day during this holiday until it's over before she had to return to living a half life. 

Adanna knew ahead of time she would be too loud before she could bury it, and regretted her actions with Cole outside the tavern before she and the rest of the Inner Circle sat down. She felt shameful. She couldn’t stop thinking about it after the fact, in her quarters.

Adanna danced down the ramparts to the stairs, looking up towards the stars. The cold of the night braced her and focused her thoughts. When Satinalia is over, they’re off to the Winter Palace. The shackle is back on.

Cole had appeared next to her on the stairs then. “Are you not happy?”

Adanna wiped her eyes and began walking down mechanically. “No, it… is not that Cole. Please, leave it alone.”

“But your hurt is so loud,” he protested, following her onto solid ground. 

He reaches out for her arm, fingers brushing over her shoulder. She pauses right before the door of the tavern, the glow leaving her awash in the light, overcome by the touch.

Cole murmurs, “suffocating hurt cold and buried, just like the snow. Trapped like a hare with broken legs, tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump my heart goes it won’t stop racing I’m being hunted—“

“Cole!” Adanna snapped, turning and severing the connection. 

His eyes were wide. “I just wanted—“

“To help, I know,” she softens, and blinks. Her stare is blank.

“A-Ana?”

A green glow wavers around her hand and spreads up her forearm and she steps forward, pressing her hand to Cole’s forehead.

“I am sorry,” she whispers regretfully, watching in his eyes as the match she’s dropping is about to begin burning. “I just… I do not want you—or anyone—to be worrying about me or this right now. I… I am truly sorry Cole. It’s not you. Well, it is. But I cannot guarantee…”

Adanna stopped rambling her excuses and stepped away, pulling her hands from him.

“You took something,” he blinked, stepping back, shocked and hurt and utterly betrayed. “Why?”

She looked away, unable to look him in the eye. “It was necessary.”

But was it? You’re just convincing yourself it is, her thoughts taunt. She slams her face into her pillow.

The first night of Satinalia was exhausting, and they finished Wicked Grace hours ago. Cullen didn’t lose the worst this time. Josephine lost the worst to Leliana, who chose to play. Varric made everyone go to bed after that.

Her thoughts wander back to what she did. She can’t be around Cole ever again now, it’s final. Okay, that’s dramatic. She rolled her eyes and then rolled over onto her side, yawning. But I can’t be around him.

Adanna’s eyes get heavy. Today needs to be a good week. Just because I have sad feelings about the next week, I want this one to stay good. Which it won’t if Cole tells everyone how I feel.

I’m coping with it just fine. I just need space. I panicked and didn’t handle it quite right, but it will be just fine. Right?

Her mind sounded like it was trying to reassure itself, and with an internal disgusted noise she’s sure she adopted from Cassandra, she slipped into a dark sleep.