Hey guys, this is just a little oneshot I thought up while playing through the Orlesian ball part of Inquisition. It is slightly AU for a reason you'll see in a minute, but it was really fun to write all the same. I though the Hero of Ferelden - while handled quite amazingly - was still much too underplayed in the game compared to Hawke (for reasons I do understand but never-the-less feel disappointed in :( ). So, I plucked this scene up and decided to insert my totally awesome male Cousland into it. Hope you guys like it :)

As always, reviews are my crack. Please feel free to fund my addiction ;)

- Nagiana

"I take it this is your first Orlesian masquerade, my Lady?"

The voice that addressed Willa Trevelyan that evening in the grand ballroom of the White Palace, was deep and smooth as silk, although it also possessed a peculiarly strong Ferelden accent. When she turned around to greet him, she found herself momentarily ensnared within eyes so deep and blue through the cut eyeholes of his mask, that they resembled sapphires plucked from the earth and placed into his head. The smile that graced his handsome, ruggedly chiseled features, was charming and kind, his lips full and sensual. The neatly trimmed beard that he sported was as black as his close cropped hair. He was tall and his body, while lean, was still remarkably fit for the age that showed in his beard. In fact, this man was so handsome and so utterly Ferelden, that Willa could only stand there and gawk for a moment.

"I . . . forgive me, but I . . ." She trailed off, still at a loss for words, and the gentleman chuckled and bowed before holding out his hand. Drawn to him, she placed her hand in his and he brushed those sensual lips across the back of it.

"No, you should forgive me, my Lady Inquisitor, for no gentleman should approach a lady without first offering his name!" He spoke, feinting disapproval at himself. "I am . . ."

He spoke his name, but for some reason, it disappeared from her head the second it registered. She furrowed her eyebrows in slight confusion and shook her head as she took a step closer to him. "I am sorry, Serrah, but would you mind repeating that? I am afraid that I did not understand you . . ."

The man's eyes were lit with a fire of amusement at her words, and he respectfully inclined his head. "Apologies, Lady Inquisitor, I forget my accent can sometimes be too thick for others outside of Ferelden to understand. My name is . . ."

Once again, the name registered in her head but then disappeared seconds after entering it. This time, she simply nodded her comprehension while secretly feeling nothing but confusion inside. What was this – magic? But something told her that this man standing in front of her, held not a whit of magical talent. So what could this be, to keep her from knowing this man's identity? Or better yet, what exactly ensorcelled her so, to make this man's attention so damn intoxicating?

She also could not get rid of a sneaking suspicion that she knew this man from somewhere. The only problem was that she just couldn't put her finger on where she had seen him. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion again. "Forgive me once more, Serrah, but do I . . . do I know of you?" She asked, and the fires of amusement in his eyes seemed to deepen. She knew he was on the verge of laughter so bold and uplifting, that she wouldn't have any choice but to join in with him. He didn't laugh, however, and for some reason, that disappointed her. She wanted to hear this man laugh!

"I suspect that many people know of me, but not many know my name – not anymore, at least. That, or perhaps I just . . . have one of those familiar faces you see everywhere you go."

That wasn't it – that wasn't it at all! But she couldn't say that without appearing rude, now could she? Eventually, she simply shook her head and smiled as graciously as she could – a smile that he readily returned. His gaze had stayed as steady as a heartbeat on hers and she could feel her heart pound in her breast as a result. This man possessed a talent, she knew, of making a woman think she was the only lady at a ball or a soiree or a gathering, worth noticing. He had a talent of giving someone his complete and undivided attention to the point to where everything else just faded away and it was only the two of them in the entire room – nay, the very world!

This man, while not probably born to the Game, was nonetheless very adept at playing it. And vaguely, she knew he was playing her as well, but that was another talent he possessed, was it not? The talent of being able to play someone so fine and subtly, that they hardly realized it or even cared. Just as long as this exceedingly handsome man kept his gaze and his attention on you, it didn't matter what he did - he could do it, just as long as those beautiful blue eyes of his never left yours.

"No, I do not think you have one of those familiar faces, Serrah. In fact, if I may be so bold, I'd say you have a face that is quite unforgettable!"

This time, he did laugh, and it was so bold and uplifting, that when her laughter joined his and then stopped exactly when his did, she hardly noticed how strange that must have sounded. And when she looked around them and noticed that not one other person there had looked like they had taken notice, the last of her worries disappeared.

"I thank you for your kind words, my Lady Inquisitor," He arched an inquiring brow and gestured for the dance floor. "May I have this dance?"

She remembered asking Cullen that earlier and having him gently refuse her on account of his poor dancing skills. She had been disappointed at first, but then passed it by and instead focused on getting to the bottom of the plot to kill the Empress. But now, it seemed like refusing this man's offer of a dance, would be something akin to treason or sacrilege. It just shouldn't be done!

With another gracious smile, she inclined her head and placed her hand in his, where she allowed him to steer her into the throng of couples swirling around the polished dance floor. Immediately, he pulled her into his arms and against him, and she had to swallow back her gasp when his arm fit snugly around her waist. He took her hand in his and spun her off into a fluid, expert waltz along with the other couples. She expected herself to become dizzy but then her eyes once again locked with his and all feelings of dizziness disappeared – swallowed whole by the charms and the strength hidden beneath those beautiful eyes of his.

In fact, she was momentarily taken aback by how old his eyes seemed to be. This man had obviously seen more than many men his relatively young age had, and it showed. It added a mature look to him that was easily respectable.

"I am afraid you have not answered my question, Lady Inquisitor. Is this your first time at an Orlesian masquerade?" He asked, and Willa couldn't help but let out a giggle that had suddenly turned quite flirtatious. She immediately blushed afterwards and his smile threatened to turn upwards into a grin as the amusement remained in his eyes. This man was used to being flirted with – to being wanted by women, and maybe even by men. And while she had no doubt he would flirt back – as a man who was used to such things, often did – there was something about him – the way he held himself, maybe even by the underlying steel in his eyes – that told her nothing would come of it. Their words would remain just that – flirtation.

For the first time, Willa found herself wondering if he was taken. Did he have a wife or a mistress or even a male lover (it was the court of Orlais, after all)? Was he a family man or a vociferous bachelor and playboy?

Instead of asking those questions, though, she merely gave another laugh – a lighter one, this time. "Is it that obvious?" She asked, and the gentleman gave a chuckle in reply.

"When I first came to the Orlesian court from Ferelden's, my Lady Inquisitor, I appeared as a duck out of water for the first two years. But one eventually gets used to how things are done – how the court functions, how to talk to people – and it gets much easier. So yes, my Lady, it is very obvious." He chuckled once more. "And who am I, to leave a beautiful woman by herself in a sea of sharks?"

She gave him an interested look. "You are from the Ferelden court?" She asked, and he nodded.

"I called the Ferelden court my home, for at least five years after the Blight. But then I grew tiresome of the preening nobles and the dratted recognition, and longed for something else – something more. So that's when I moved here and I would never take it back for the world."

She gave another laugh. "You left Ferelden politics for Orlesian?" She asked, and he laughed in reply again.

"Yes, I suppose it must sound silly to anyone's ears but my own, but you see, despite the connections I had back at the Ferelden court, and my wife's power and prestige, there was something I didn't have there, that I do have here."

Willa arched an inquiring brow. "And what is that?"

The gentlemen's smile grew soft then. "Love. The woman I loved was not there. Yes, I . . . I think my wife loved me, but I could not love her, for my heart already belonged to another. In fact, it had belonged to another, for a very long time. But my love had to leave Ferelden, you see, and the last time we saw each other after our last night together, I promised her that I would not rest until I found her again. She called me a fool but left with a smile on her face, because she knew a . . . does not go back on his word. So, after I stayed at court for several years and helped my wife . . . Ferelden, I left her. I told no one where I was going, and I sought my love out. Eventually, I found her and our son, and together we left Ferelden, for she had not left it by then, not truly. We came here, consolidated ourselves at court, and we've been here ever since."

It was so strange to Willa. While he had been speaking, for a brief moment, the din of laughter and talk had gotten so loud, that it had briefly overshadowed what he had been saying a couple of times. Instead of asking him to repeat himself, however, she simply adopted another curious look on her face.

"Your family . . . do you hold power at court?" She asked, and his smile grew wider.

"My love - I suppose you could call her my . . . mistress, for I am still technically a married man, although we openly dwell together with our son as a family here at court - holds particular power with the Empress."

"What does she do?"

The gentleman adopted a sly look. "You'll have to ask her that yourself, my Lady Inquisitor. My love likes to explain what she does, herself. She is rather . . . headstrong, you understand?" Willa nodded.

"And what about you? Surely the Empress makes use of you, as well?" He gave a laugh again.

"You make it sound so illicit! No, my Lady, there is nothing illicit between me and the Empress – I am blissfully in love with the mother of my child. I have been for little over a decade! No, I am what you would call, an . . . advisor, of sorts."

Willa could understand it. The raw power this man seemed to possess, magical or otherwise, was certainly addicting and more than a tad intoxicating. What woman did not want a man around her with the kind of talents this man possessed? After all, did even an Empress wished to be looked upon by a handsome gentleman such as he, and feel like the she was the only woman he would ever lay eyes on in such a way again?

The music had come to a grand stop at that moment, and they stepped away from each other. The gentleman gave a deep bow while Willa simply inclined her head to him. Smiling, he offered her his arm and graciously she took it. Her hand fit snugly into the crook of his elbow and she could feel the powerful muscles lying inert underneath the thin silk of his shirt. They almost made her swoon.

"I assume that my love will find you later. She very much wishes to make your acquaintance, my Lady Inquisitor." He told her and she nodded.

"Will she know where to find me?" She asked, and the gentleman nodded.

"Oh do not worry, she will. My . . . has a knack for keeping track of people she find enthralling . . ."

It was then that Willa noticed the silver ring on his wedding finger – a ring that did not look like a traditional marriage band. Quite obviously, his wedding band to his wife, had never graced that finger. And upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a twisted loop of rosewood, the grain of which seemed to shift and change from one moment to the next, taking on shapes reminiscent of animals and people. It was a peculiar ring and seemed to radiate power.

The gentleman noticed her attention, and chuckled. Lifting his hand, he twirled the band around his finger for a moment, as he had once done countless times before. "A gift from my love. It is very dear to me . . ."

"It is beautiful." She spoke, truthfully, and he smiled.

"A word of advice, if I may, my Lady Inquisitor?" He asked and she nodded.

"Of course."

His gaze flitted up to the tall, muscular blonde man standing in a group of people on the landing above them, and whose attention was so quite clearly devoted to them. She knew it was Cullen almost immediately, and felt her cheeks enflame with blush. How could she be so cruel, as to dance with this man after Cullen had so gently turned her down?

The gentleman's kind words brought her back down into reality. "Taking it from experience, my Lady Inquisitor, I can tell you, that at the end of the day, love is all you need. You have it, with that lad up there, so don't you dare let it go." His expression became mournful then. "Once again, speaking from experience, I know that saving the world is truly what is most important. However . . . love is what makes saving the world so important. Without it . . . without being able to look forward to it at the end, what world is so important to save?"

His words rang almost achingly true to her. She opened her mouth to speak – to tell him thank you – but two laughing children running past them, caused him to let out a huff of irritation. "Kieran! Kieran, would you stop pestering poor Violette so?" He called after them but then sighed and shook his head when neither of the children paid him any mind. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"I apologize, my Lady. My son, he is . . . well, he is in the midst of his first crush, you see . . .?"

Willa shook her head and smiled. "You don't need to say anything more, Serrah. I understand very well how exciting a first crush can be." She told him and his smile turned thankful as he once again bowed and picked up her hand, where he ran his lips across it once again. Resuming his stature, he grinned and winked.

"It was truly a pleasure making your acquaintance, my Lady Inquisitor. I daresay we possibly may meet again . . ." He told her, and she nodded as he turned and strolled off into the crowd. She watched him go for a moment and it was as she watched him go, that everything flooded back to her.

Cousland . . .

Court of Ferelden and the Queen Anora . . .

Throne . . .

Morrigan . . .

"My name is Aedan Cousland . . ."

Willa's eyes grew wide and she let out a gasp of shock. "The Hero of Ferelden . . .!" She breathed and immediately moved to scan the crowd, looking for the exceeding handsome Prince-Consort of Ferelden that she had just shared a dance with. She didn't find him, though – or the boy he had called his son – and realized that she wouldn't find him.

The Hero of Ferelden had disappeared into thin air.

"I assume that little show amused you?"

Aedan grinned at the raven-haired woman who waited for him in the shadows of the upper floor of the ballroom. She had her arms crossed in front of her breasts, and one of her eyebrows were cocked in unamused inquiry. He winked jauntily at her as he pulled off the mask covering his face before pulling the amulet of concealment over his head. He then promptly handed it back to her.

"Yes, that amused me quite a lot, I'm afraid. . ." He spoke as her hand curled around the golden amulet. She pressed her hand to her chest as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a loving, passionate kiss to her lips. She returned his kiss with equal fervor as the fingers of her free hand slipped deep into his pitch black locks. When they broke apart, Aedan wanted to grin at the flushed look on Morrigan face, but held it back. He knew how badly it irked her when he called out things she wished he couldn't notice.

"I suppose that's what I get for having a rogue lover, is it not? You're constantly breaking into my laboratory and taking my things!" She spoke, and he nodded as he moved back in and pressed one last heated kiss to her lips. She returned it briefly before pushing him away and turning back to the crowd milling below them. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and pull her against him, and allowed it. She was allowing such small actions of affection between them now, and Aedan was glad. What wasn't the Orlesian court, if nothing but rampant shows of affection towards those you loved?

"Well, maybe you shouldn't leave such easy locks on your laboratory's door, my love." He spoke so innocently, that she couldn't help but let out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh, forgive me for having such an oversight!" She teased before nodding her head into the crowd. "I suppose that is she?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Aye. She is a lovely dancer."

Morrigan let out a scoff of laughter as she placed her hand on his chest beside her head. Her voice was its normal cool tone, but her touch was soft and loving. "Figures that would be the only thing you would take away from such an encounter."

"She is also beautiful and affluent and very, very intelligent. She noticed the charm the necklace placed on her, almost immediately. I do not know if it was her magic that almost gave me away, or what she had witnessed thanks to that little Ghost boy that is constantly around her, but nevertheless . . . do not take her lightly, my love."

Morrigan shook her head. "I hadn't planned on it. Was that Kieran that interrupted you?" Aedan nodded.

"Yes, and right on schedule, too." Morrigan smiled a loving smile at the thought of their son.

"Such an intelligent boy."

Aedan chuckled and placed a kiss at Morrigan's temple. "Just like his mother."

She smiled. "And he is handsome . . . just like his bullheaded, insufferable father!"

"Who must leave soon." He reminded her and immediately, Morrigan pinned him with a look that he damn near would have taken as pleading if she didn't quickly change it into her normal mask of expressionless.

"Must you leave so soon?"

He shook his head. "Why must I say goodbye to Kieran again? It will only make things harder if I do not come back."

Morrigan stubbornly shook her head. "You will come back! You're Aedan Cousland – the Hero of Ferelden! You saved Ferelden from the Blight by doing the impossible and winning the support of the Mages, Dwarves and the Elves. You found the Urn of Sacred Ashes, you defeated Flemeth, two High Dragons and an Archdemon! You defeated the Mother and saved both Amaranthine and Vigils' Keep among countless other heroic deeds. There isn't anything you can't do!"

Aedan gave her a small smile. "You make it sound like me fighting through my Calling, is as easy as taking a noonday tea. I wish I had your confidence." He held up his hand then, the ring clearly visible to the both of them. "I have your ring, so you'll know if something becomes of me." Morrigan nodded, trying desperately to stave off tears.

"I know . . ."

He pulled her close for a moment. "I love you, Morrigan. I love you and I love our son. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think I could conquer it." She nodded.

"I know. And I'll be waiting for you when you get back." Aedan smiled and continued to hold her close.

"Besides . . . I have a feeling you're going to miss me so much that you'll beg me home sooner than anticipated." He told her, his voice ringing with that infuriating note of confidence that she hated, and she snorted in reply.

"Yeah right. Don't get your hopes up, Cousland." She told him and he chuckled.

"Just you wait, Morrigan . . . you'll soon be eating those words . . ."