A Satinalia Party

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Have a little Holiday gift from me!

Set a few years after the wedding, Lana and Cullen find themselves in Orlais attending a Satinalia party. Cullen hopes it'll go better than the last Orlesian ball they had to attend together, but things so rarely work out well for him.

Hope you all enjoy a little bit of fluff and snow.

Happy Holidays!

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Maker, she was beautiful. The silver dress left her elegant shoulders exposed, Cullen unable to refrain from cupping his fingers across her warm brown skin. He'd flinched at how obvious her birthmark was, but after a few minutes of no one saying a word, he couldn't stop staring at it, at her bust practically bursting out of the top part, or how her scoopfuls of hips flared out the skirt.

A single rose dipped in silver glittered from behind her ear, the only decoration in her curly locks in comparison to the monstrosities the Orlesians took to adding in place. Cullen even spotted one with an entire tiny cottage made out of small pieces of shortbread perched upon her head. He wanted to ask what was the point of it, but caught Sera out of the corner of his eye snatch one of the gumdrops off its roof. Rather than draw attention to her, he only sighed and returned to Lana's side, where he belonged.

In comparison to the ray of moonlight shining beside him, Cullen was forgettable. He dressed in whatever red and green finery someone left on the chair of the shared room for him, uncertain where it came from and not really caring either. It surprising him for a moment that it fit, before he remembered who was really behind this Orlesian Ball. Every manned of high Duke and Viscount wore similar hues, and for some reason tall hats were the rage. A small child was selling slips of holly outside the door at 5 copper a piece insisting it was the Empress' favorite. With this crowd, by the end of the night the boy could probably buy his own estate.

Somewhere far in the distance blared music holding far more bells to the beat than he remembered, but Cullen couldn't see to the door proper thanks to all the partridges and sugar houses stuck in Orlesian women's hair. He didn't realize he was grumbling under his breath, until he felt a soft hand cup around the back of his red frock coat.

"Honey eyes," Lana purred below her breath. She shifted her cane to the side, letting more of her weight fall to him. Cullen was happy to accept it, and particularly happy to have someone fully on his side for this.

"I don't know why we came."

"Because you said it was important," she smiled bright, her teeth blinding white against that dark brown lip coloring Cullen anticipated finding all over himself in the morning. He was looking forward to it. "And the Inquisitor stressed it as well."

"An Orlesian ball for Satinalia, there is no part of that frippery that screams vital importance in anyone's life. I'd have been better off staying at home and mucking out the stables. At least there when you find shit, you clean it up instead of spreading it around."

He growled at the end of the diatribe growing in his gut thanks to a sash nearly too tight around his midsection and pointed tip shoes pinching his toes. A forehead butted against his cheek and he turned to watch Lana chuckling at his discomfort and misfortune. "Blessed Andraste," Cullen cupped her cheek, no doubt smudging up rouge and other unguents she spent ages getting perfect, but Lana didn't mind. "You look beautiful. Perfect. I...it's almost worth all this pomposity to see you so..."

She looked like a star embraced by the midnight sky, beaming its light across a slumbering world. When Lana first opened the door after having finished dressed, Cullen feared his jaw was going to dislocate. He coughed out something incoherent which drew a brighter blush to her cheeks, before her eyes danced over his body strapped down below far too much of that red velvet.

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