Chapter Text
She gave her most convincing, empty smile as the noble prattled on about hunts and hounds, breathing an internal sigh of relief when he finally ran out of kills to recount. A few agonizingly kiss-ass remarks later, he went on his merry way, convinced of the Inquisition’s cause and might. Addar had to stop herself from sighing openly, then. She had made polite chatter as best she could- surely Josephine wouldn't object if she took a break? Just a quick gulp of fresh air on the quiet, secluded balcony, and she'd be refreshed and ready to re-plaster on her fake social smile and make more small talk.
Anyone thinks being Inquisitor is easy, I'll run them through the nobility gauntlet a few times, Adaar thought as she ducked behind a potted plant and through the doorway onto the balcony, dodging a doorframe not made for Qunari or Tal-Vashoth. At last, some fresh air! Please, tell me there are no illicit affairs taking place in the hydrangeas… A quick listen and a glance around seemed to confirm that there were no nobles necking behind the enormous flowerpots that graced either end of the balcony. Thank the Maker, a few seconds alone! Adaar gulped in clean, unperfumed air as she leaned carefully on the railing (no telling if it could bear her weight- humans were oddly inconsistent in their architecture).
After a few minutes of peace, her conscience nagged at her; duty called. With a deep, heartfelt sigh that she could actually release out loud, Adaar turned around to go make nice with more nobles. Vashedan, might as well get this over with. Maybe I'll talk to the dowager countess? Anyone with that many dead husbands must be interesting... So preoccupied was she with preparing herself mentally that she completely missed the large, horned figure standing in front of the doorway. She smacked right into him.
“Shit! I mean- sorry, you alright? I didn't see you.” She peered up at the figure, and her look of concern transitioned into one of shock. A canny observer might have noticed that under the shock, Adaar was less than pleased.
“ Iskrar ? Is that you? What are you doing here?” As she spoke, Adaar backed up a few paces- she didn’t like him being in her space- and looked the other Tal-Vashoth in the eyes. Maker’s breath- it’s him! Out of all the kith that could be here- if Andraste’s watching, she’s laughing at me. Loudly. Outwardly, she tried to show none of the emotions churning through her.
The Tal-Vashoth chuckled, sending a wave of irritation through Adaar. He was wearing his mercenary’s kit- but the badge of the Valo-Kas wasn’t on it any more. Instead, the badge of a freelancer was stitched in its place. Shokrakar finally kicked him out. It’s about damn time. On the other side of his overcoat, he wore the temporary badge of one of the lordlings at the gathering. A hired guard by minor nobility too poor to have a full-time guard. Oh, how you have fallen, Iskrar- and I’m not sorry to see it.
“If it isn’t my old Captain Adaar. Not just any old merc anymore, huh? And here I thought all those tales of a Vashoth Inquisitor were just the products of a drunk human’s imagination. Good for you, leading all those humans to stupid to wipe themselves without help.” Iskrar’s voice held a nasty undercurrent and his eyes were contemptuous. Adaar’s eyes narrowed. Don’t let him get to you. His resentment is not your concern. Her voice was coolly polite when she spoke.
“It’s Inquisitor Adaar, now. As you pointed out, I am no longer a mercenary captain. I apologize, but my duties require me elsewhere. Excuse me.” Out of my way, dathrasi. She brushed past him, holding onto formality like one of those enormous shields Cassandra carried. The return to the ballroom and inanely chattering human blue-bloods was almost a relief. Josephine looked relieved to see her, and immediately brought over more lords and ladies to charm. Adaar turned her attention to her duties and let the irritation that was Iskar fall from her mind, making a small note to write Shokrakar later to ask what straw had broken the dathrasi’s back.