---Blodwyn Akritas---
"Tevinter is a fine country, though not as grand as it had once been," Blodwyn replied to Orik, approving of his question, "sadly it is the only place which understands the full value of magic. Only fools condemn that which they do not understand." She said, making an off-handed reference to blood magic and the Ferelden Chantry.
And then Bruce went lyrium-crazed and that ended any civil conversation which the group of them could have been having. She knew that she had to do something about the situation - and quickly. But she had not taken any lyrium with her, not even bothering to have smuggled any in in her personal drinking flask. She could not just allow Bruce to wander off and get into trouble, as that would not help anyone, and certainly not after the scene that her brother had caused.
"Ser Orik, do pardon me, but I must go and see to my...fiance's well-being," her and Bruce were supposed to be pretending to be a couple, after all, "by your leave." She curtsied to him, visibly distraught.
"Maker's breath," she swore and then looked around the ballroom, trying to find Ceallach. Spotting her elven slave, she briskly made her way over to him.
"[b]Ceallach, I need you to get me some lyrium. My things would be in the storage. Sneak in and filch me a bottle of it," she told him hurriedly, grasping him by the arm. "I will be with Ser Bruce, but I need you to get me that lyrium and fast - before our Templar friend decides that throttling me would be a swell idea."
She hurried off after Bruce, leaving Ceallach in hopes that he would swiftly carry out her request. She catching up to Bruce and took him by the arm, walking alongside him. "You will have lyrium soon, just try not to butcher anything," it was odd, how suddenly he had become so affected...almost unnatural, "recite the Chant of Light with me, to help you focus." It was the only thing she could think of saying to him.
"Trials 1:14, listen," her grip on his arm tightened, trying to get him to focus on her, "Maker, though the darkness comes upon me, I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder." She spoke to him in hushed tones, hoping that he would focus on the words of the Chant.
Ceallach, she thought and prayed, please hurry before something goes terribly awry. Maker help your feet be swift.
"Recite for me the words from Trials 1:10, please," she implored, turning to smile politely at some of the guests who looked at them and whispered in anxiety.
---
---Celestelle d'Auvergne---
She hushed up the conversation whilst listening to Teyrn Loghain giving his speech and found herself nodding along. The man's gruff voice was pleasant enough to listen to and, instead of actually paying attention to what he was saying, Celestelle entertained a brief fantasy about the Hero of River Dane. She had always had a thing for men who were older than her.
When the speech was finished, she turned back to Connall, all smiles and courtesies. "Ah, je suis most pleased to make votre acquaintance," she replied to him with all the grace and propriety that she had been taught to possess since the day she was old enough to crawl.
"I must admit, j'ai pas recontrer un Avvar before. Your people, what are they like?" She inquired of him, honestly curious.