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“It’s not a real party until someone’s smallclothes are nailed to the Chantry board,” Leliana had told her so many months ago. Zaryn had never forgotten.
Mingling with the nobles who’d descended on Skyhold to celebrate Corypheus’ defeat, she kept an eye out in the crowd. Eventually she caught sight of Sera slipping back into the great hall. Sera caught her eye and winked, then headed over to the buffet.
Once the party had dispersed and the guests had wandered back to their rooms, once Blackwall had finally fallen asleep, Zaryn slipped back down to the hall. Sera materialized out of the shadows, still grinning.
“Took ya long enough,” she whispered.
“You got ‘em?”
Sera patted the pouch on her belt. “Course I did!” She drew out a pair of silk knickers, trimmed in lace. “Who’d’ve thought her smalls’d be so frilly?”
“Come on, then.”
They snuck through the shadows, avoiding the guards on their rounds as they made their way to their goal.
Skyhold’s chantry annex was too small and out of the way, and didn’t have a board either. They’d argued over where the best spot would be. Sera had voted for the main doors to the throne room. Zaryn had pushed for the railing over the bar in the Herald’s Rest. Eventually they’d found a spot they could both agree on.
They managed to make it to the top of the Guard tower unseen. It took longer than it should have to replace the Inquisition banner with Leliana’s unmentionables because they each kept giggling and shushing each other. Finally, though, they accomplished their task and retreated Sera’s quarters, slipping out onto the roof with a bottle of wine and a plate of cookies that Sera had filched from the reception. They dozed off before the first light of dawn crested over the mountains, so they missed the initial reactions, but woke up in time to see Josephine on the ramparts, standing with her hands on her hips and shaking her head.
“Think they’ll know we did it?” Sera asked.
“For sure, but they’ll never be able to prove it. And it’s not like we messed with ‘er shoes.” Zaryn replied. “C’mon. I’ve got a mighty need for breakfast.”
“Think they got any of those little cakes left?”
“Probably just those deep mushroom ones.”
“Ugh.”
Scrambling across the tiles, Zaryn paused before going in through the window, saluting the scrap of silk and lace that fluttered in the early morning breeze.