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It is a rare occasion which requires both the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and the Arlessa of Amaranthine. Still, on this particular occasion, Queen Anora had been insistent that they should both come. They arrived together, Aaren in the kind of finery she would never have expected to be able to afford, Romeo in her armour.
Aaren headed off to further her political agenda, and quickly found herself drawn into a fairly involved conversation. When she was done, she scanned the crowd for Romeo, and saw her standing and talking to a group of young people, many of whom she recognised as people whose parents had many complaints about them. Romeo looked up too, and they locked eyes from across the room, sharing a blissful moment before Aaren had to turn away and address someone else.
It was a strange comfort, having Romeo there. Even stood apart, knowing she was being her irrepressible self brought Aaren strength. She sought her in the crowd all evening, watching her draw in the tired and alone. Every so often, they’d meet eyes, and it would send a thrill through Aaren, just as it had when they first fell for each other. Those versions of them, unsure if they’d even make it out alive, could never have predicted where they’d end up. However hard the struggle, however often Aaren stands in rooms like this one, knowing she will never be granted the full respect of anyone in it, she does it for the pair of them and their younger selves.
When it was over, they left together, easily in step as always.