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Aurora never thought of herself as vain. She knew that among the nobles she had admirers. True, many of them cower from her now because she is the Herald of Andraste, but they still find her attractive. The only reason she knows that still holds is because Leliana has told her of the many letters she’s intercepted.
The only problem with her lack of vanity is that she hasn’t looked in a mirror in months. There was never any need to, too much had to be done. She needed to get horses from Master Dennet, she had to meet with the mages or the templars, she needed to make sure the refugees had supplies; the list only grew.
What use is a mirror on the road, when bandits need to be fought off. It’s not like they will let her primp before they attack. Besides, despite her noble background, they are ridiculously expensive. The Chantry in Haven wouldn’t have one due to the cost and she finds any money sent her way better used to help others.
The first time she sees herself in the mirror she is in Val Royeaux getting ready for the soiree Madame de Fer is throwing. The gown she is supposed to wear crumples to the ground as she drops it in disbelief.
She doesn’t understand what she is seeing. As she touches the glass she lets out a cry and slumps to the ground, staring in distress at her image.
Her door bursts open and Cassandra runs in holding up her sword, Varric close behind her.
“Aurora.” Cassandra says urgently. “Why did you call out?” She sheathes her sword and kneels beside the young woman crying in front of a mirror. Hesitantly she places a hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “Aurora? What’s wrong?”
The young redhead turns to the older woman, tears streaming down her face. “My eyes.” Aurora whispers horrified.
Cassandra looks at her baffled as Varric steps closer, realization dawning on his face. “What’s wrong with your eyes Princess.”
The redhead’s eyes flick to Varric. “My eyes aren’t green.”
The Seeker lets out a scoff and pushes herself off of the floor. “Of course they are green, that is no reason to cry out.”
“Seeker.” Varric’s voice lowers in warning as her words have a visible effect on Aurora, the mark on her hand sparking furiously.
She lets out another cry and turns to face the mirror once more. Her Mama had always said she had eyes the color of the summer sky. Her Papa called them beautiful sapphires. And yet, as she looks into the mirror, eyes the color of the Breach stare back at her. “My eyes are blue.”