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“I thought we were done with Orlesian-type parties,” Cassandra crossed her arms over her chest, frowning down at Josephine’s desk, where a few papers littered the surface. “I hate masks.”
“Oh, you don’t have to wear a mask,” Paile rushed to assure her, nervously reaching out. Cullen twined their fingers together, smoothing his thumb across her knuckles. Even though he had returned to human form, this habit of hers remained. Paile would reach for him, just like how she used to sink her fingers his fur when he had been Lion. Now, though, her hand would settle in his, strong and human.
“It is meant to be fun; no politics.” She gazed up at him, worry furrowing her brow, scrunching her delicate vallaslin. “People dress up as characters from history or books, or creatures from around the world.” A fond smile spread across her lips, and humor replaced the anxious look. “Two of my friends used to dress up as a druffalo every year. They would take turns being the front.”
Josephine laughed delightedly, clasping her hands together. “What else does one do on All Hollow’s Eve?”
Paile turned her amethyst gaze to her friend, Josephine’s enthusiasm seeming to spark her own. When she had come up with the idea for the party, she was almost sure that no one would want to partake of the elvish tradition. It was gratifying that at least someone was excited at the prospect.
“Well, the origin of the tradition is that it is the day of the year where the barrier between the veil and our world is the most fragile. That spirits can come through and walk with us.” A rueful smile burst through her explanation. “Not that it is currently any different than our everyday life these past few years.”
Cullen squeezed her hand, and she smiled up at him, shaking her head at the irony. “It is a spooky night, one where people tell stories, to try to scare each other. We dress up in costumes and play games.” Paile worried her lip. “Those things don’t much seem to go together, do they?” She laughed and shrugged. “Oh well, it is just an excuse for a party, I suppose. Something light-hearted and to take our mind off of events.” Paile turned to look at the few standing in the room with her. “Shall we try?”
Leliana nodded, “I think it is a wonderful idea. We have had such a hard few years, it would be nice to celebrate in such a frivolous way.” A smile broke out over her face. “Besides, I think I have a character I would enjoy dressing up as. I have this pair of shoes I have never had the chance to wear before. I couldn’t help myself; I just had to buy them!”
Paile grinned back at Leliana, excitement starting to bubble forth. “Oh wonderful! We shall have to make some preparations. We will need…”
The three women all leaned over the desk, becoming absorbed in the details of planning the party. Cassandra stood back, her look one of customary disapproval, but he could see her watching the others quite closely.
Cullen smiled as he backed away, raking his eyes down Paile’s body. He could think of a few costumes for her; ones he definitely wouldn’t want anyone else to see her in, though.
The party was set for two weeks’ time. And while most of the inhabitants of Skyhold did not understand the tradition, the happily threw themselves into preparations. Pumpkins were summoned for, and hundreds arrived. They were all carved individually, people having great fun deciding the designs; whether to go spooky, silly, or intricate. Paper leaves of different colors were cut out and made into garlands. Straw scarecrows dressed in rustic outfits and cornstalks were placed in corners, adding to the feel of the autumn season.
Costumes were being designed in stealth, most kept close to the wearer’s chest. It seemed that there was typically a contest to pick the best costume, and no one wanted their ideas to be stolen from them. A wide array of fabrics and materials were hurriedly whisked away, excited whispers between friends to share thoughts or throw off the opposition.
Special drinks and foods were designed as well. Paile had spent some time in the kitchens, encouraging the cooks to make the recipes look like body parts, insects, other unappetizing things. Cullen just shook his head in loving confusion. He didn’t understand the point in it, but she was so excited. She was under so much pressure, would control her emotions so much, it was wonderful to see her be so happy and animated.
“Cullen,” She asked him one night, before they had gone to bed. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he had replied, setting down the report beside him, lazily stretching out further on the bed. He watched as she fiddled with her hairbrush, licked her lips nervously. Heat sparked in his belly; she was barely clothed, her silver hair unbound and floating over her shoulders. She looked delectable. “You should just come over here before you ask it.”
She smiled perceptively and set her brush down, slowly crossing the space between them. With a happy sigh, she settled into his side, propping herself up on his bare chest. “Do you mind,” she hesitated again. “Would you care if I made your costume for you?”
Cullen brushed a kiss across her lips, then went back for another lingering one. “Saves me the trouble of having to think of one.” Humor made her eyes seem lighter, and he dipped a hand into her silken hair, cupping the back of your head. “What did you have in mind?” He kissed her again, this time sweeping his tongue out and tasting her more deeply.
“It’s a secret,” she murmured, concentration slowly dissolving, her hands starting to skim over his chest and shoulders.
“Perfect.” Cullen purred, and that was the end of the conversation.
***
It was the evening of the party, and everything was in full swing. Just, Cullen frowned at the crowd, missing the woman who started it all. Paile was still nowhere to be seen. In their quarters, he had found an outfit laid out for him. He looked down, still frowning. It was basically his normal clothes. Nicer shirt and pants in a dark silver hue, but still his normal red and gold fur robe. As of right now, he seemed to be the only one without a costume on.
Dancing and laughing all around him were chevalier’s, Kings and Queens, characters from famous books, and animals alike. He stuck out like a sore thumb.
Dorian appeared at his side, smirking. “We are supposed to be dressed up.” He raked his eyes up and down Cullen’s clothing. “I don’t think coming as yourself is supposed to count.”
“Paile said she would make me a costume.” He glanced down at himself. “This was all she gave me.”
Dorian made a moue, “Not how I would have dressed you, Commander.” Wicked humor glinted in his eye, just adding to his costume. He was dressed in intricate robes. Of the Tevinter kind.
“A magister, huh?”
Dorian smoothed his hands down his robes, a self-satisfied smirk on his perfectly made-up face. “Exquisite, aren’t I? Oh, if only my father could see me now.” He looked the epitome of an evil Tevinter Magister, right down to his perfectly curled mustache and far too ornate jewelry.
Cullen just shook his head, looking out into the crowd once more. “Is that… Bull?”
Standing head and shoulders above anyone else, a horned giant threw back his head and roared with laughter. He was painted in red, with some turquoise in scale patterns, and giant wings stretched out around him. He looked… like the Abyssal High Dragon Paile and Bull had fought. In fact, that dragon’s head was mounted in Skyhold. Their horns were pretty much exactly the same, Cullen had to give Bull that.
“Yes,” Dorian sighed. “He insisted.” He shook his head in bewilderment. “Whatever am I going to do with him?”
Cullen just barely heard the words, Dorian spoke them so lowly. Cullen suppressed the urge to smile. The two’s relationship was one they thought they were keeping a secret about, but everyone knew. They did not have as good of poker faces as they liked to think. That and the way Dorian would blush at every slightly suggestive remark Bull would deliberately make in his direction. And the way Bull would go out of his way to make sure Dorian was cared for.
Dorian departed Cullen’s side, and wove through the crowd to where the Dragon was pretending to breathe fire at some laughing individuals.
Cullen could account for most everyone. He could see Cole, sitting happily just a little ways away. He was dressed as a rabbit. A rabbit with large floppy ears and, of all things, a yellow flower crown. The boy was ecstatic, it looked like, chatting animatedly with Varric, showing off the assortment of chocolates made to look like fingers and toes. Cullen felt the laugh catch in his throat when he saw the dwarf’s costume, sending him into a coughing fit. Varric was dressed up as Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. He wore a wig that matched Hawke’s unruly cap of black hair and the infamous blood streak across his bruiser’s nose. No doubt Varric was incredibly proud of his costume, and would be telling his best friend all about it. If she didn’t know already.
Shaking his head, he looked for Leliana. She was dancing with a man dressed up as a noble, her shoes flashing in the sparkle of the floating candles and jack-o-lanterns. Glass. The woman was wearing glass slippers, her impulse buy. Straight out of the Orlesian fairy tale. How she didn’t break them as she danced, Cullen couldn’t understand.
And there was Sera, who, since learning that pranks were a major part of All Hollow’s Eve, had been, and was still, up to no good. She looked to be aiming a ball of cobwebs at someone. And she was dressed as… Paile. Cullen felt his jaw drop, looking at her costume. The other elf had painted sloppy lines of vallaslin on her face, and dipped her hand in green paint, it looked like. She had a fake sword strapped to her back, and had tied white yarn into her hair and had sort of braided it into the style Paile usually wore. Cullen groaned out loud, but could feel the smile breaking through. Paile would love it.
Blackwall stood to the side, wearing all black Antivan looking clothing. A black mask covered his face, a hat sat low over his brow. He had a rapier at his side, and a black cap hanging stylishly over his shoulders. Josephine stood next to him, wearing an Antivan dress, color high in her cheeks as she looked up at Blackwall. Zorro, Cullen guessed for Blackwall’s costume, the fictional character popular in the country. And Josephine looked like she matched. Wasn’t there some love interest in that legend? Cullen felt his eyebrows rise. Did the two plan to be a couple, or was it accidental?
Vivienne swept across the room, dressed in utter perfection as Andraste. Had anyone else dressed as the Divine figure, it would be considered blasphemous. With Vivienne though… well, no one could say she didn’t look the part, and no one would dare say she shouldn’t.
Solas was nowhere to be seen. At least, that Cullen could tell. There were a few characters in full body costumes, others that wore masks to obscure their identity. Cullen scanned the crowd. An Undead, a ghast, a nug, a wolf. Nope, he couldn’t see…
Cullen’s jaw dropped, and he looked away quickly, shocked. There was Varric’s friend, newly joined the Inquisition, Isabela. Wearing… nothing. Pretty much. Confused, Cullen quickly looked again, just to make sure he saw right. Heat bloomed on his cheeks as he looked away again. Yes, it was true. Isabela was dressed as a desire demon. Wearing pretty much nothing. A few chains of jewelry, a little crossing of cloth, and some horns on her head. Unsurprisingly, she had a large group of men surrounding her, and she looked like she was having a grand time.
Cassandra brought welcome distraction, Cullen shaking the uncomfortable feeling away. He really didn’t need to see anyone other than Paile that naked. Cassandra was dressed as a warrior with long red hair. She looked vaguely familiar. Suddenly it clicked. Swords and Shield. The book that Varric wrote, based off Aveline, the Guard Captain of Kirkwall. Cassandra looked slightly embarrassed, but also defiant. Cullen shook his head and smiled. She was dressed up as a character from one of her favorite books, huh? There was no way he wasn’t going to tormenter her about reading that series later.
“Cullen!” Paile’s voice made him spin, turning to his love. And there she was, a tentative smile on her face. She looked nervous, one hand held behind her back. “What do you think?”
Before taking the time to look at her, he pulled her close, kissing her lingeringly. She smelt wonderful, felt wonderful. Normally they were more circumspect in public, but the atmosphere was jovial, relaxed, and Cullen couldn’t help but kiss her.
“There,” he said with a smile, setting her away from him. “Now, let’s see you.”
She laughed and smiled up at him, relaxing now. She was uncertain about something, but he didn’t know what. She looked beautiful. Different, but beautiful still. Her hair had been stained blonde, he noted with surprise, and done up in an Orlesian style. A delicate crown rested among the upswept curls, and jewelry flashed at her ears and neck. An off the shoulder blue dress hugged her torso, long sleeves with pointed ends encased her arms. The waist of the light blue gown billowed out into a full, long skirt. As he watched, though, the dress slowly shifted, changing colors from the blue to a light pink.
“Dorian helped me,” she blushed, noticing his fascination. “It’s an enchantment; it won’t last very long.”
“Sleeping Beauty.” Cullen shook his head. “Perfectly captured.” He bowed over her hand, kissing the back of it, before turning it over and kissing the inside of her wrist.
“Leliana told me the story just a little while ago.” She laughed. “It seemed… particularly appropriate.”
Cullen stepped into her once more, dropping his voice. “A bit. I didn’t get to kiss you awake, though.”
“No,” she smiled fondly. “But you did save me, stayed with me, and were my Lion bodyguard. That means more to me than anything a fairy tale could invent.”
Cullen was about to pull her into his body for a deeper kiss, when Paile continued. “Which is why I had this commissioned for you.” She pulled a large box from behind her back, showing him what she had hidden. “I hope… I hope you like it. And that it is useful to you.”
Cullen took the box from her, noticing its weight. He raised his eyebrows at her as he undid the strands holding it together. Paile licked her lips, her brilliant purple eyes flitting between the present and his face.
With great ceremony, Cullen pulled the lid off and looked inside. It took only a second to register what he was seeing, pleasure filling him. Inside, a great lion’s head snarled up at him, mane of red and black fur spilling from the top, metal of the same dark silver color of his new clothing burnished to a gleam. A helm, a lion’s helm.
Cullen laughed aloud, deep, rippling waves breaking from his chest. Paile sighed and beamed, “You like it then?”
In answer, Cullen settled it in place over his head, grabbed Paile by her waist, lifted her up, and spun her around. Paile shrieked with laughter as her skirt billowed behind her, throwing her arms around his shoulders “Cullen!”
“Yes, Princess. Your Lion approves.”