@fadeweaver || just for fun
the small army of tailors they have at their disposal come from a variety of backgrounds, alice herself recruiting no small number from their ranks. that's the kind of thing she's particularly good at, remembering the skills of the people she talks with and knowing when to put them to use.
she had had no idea how much work this would all take back when the planning had started. sitting in on the war council meetings is a privilege that she values, even though her role is simply to take notes of what is said. a record they can all refer back to, especially when someone's strategic call goes wrong. so she had enjoyed listening to them bicker about the meeting with the empress, her mind wandering to orlesian masks and fine gowns. things she had only read about in books, really.
so it was rather jarring when the inquisitor herself had invited alice to join. she'd almost missed the fact that the question was directed at her, initially, so used to blending in as a background feature. but, no. in clear elvhen: will you accompany me as my personal translator?
she is the best choice. the advisors had agreed. she'd picked up orlesian back at the circle from books and a few friendlier templars. she'd picked up elvhen from revas and from speaking with some of the recruits. she knows bits of rivaini, enough tevene to get by.
so now she's here, standing perfectly still as final touches are made to her outfit. they're in revas's quarters. given that they'll be together constantly during the trip, the decision was made that their alterations ought to be made in tandem so that everything matches perfectly.
she hardly recognizes herself in the mirror. they have her hair pinned up in a way she could never accomplish on her own, a test run of the real thing to make sure everything is in order. appearances matter quite a deal in this game, she's realizing.
a break in the pinning and measuring for the tailors to confer and she finally has a moment to breathe. her eyes flit away from the mirror and over to the inquisitor, who stands there tall and beautiful and proud.
"revas," she says. her voice catches slightly on the word and she realizes, all at once, that her nerves are running wild. "i-i, um- i'm a bit nervous about this." an understatement. her anxiety is betrayed by the way her voice trembles. she has full faith in her own abilities, of course, but this is important. this is something they can't afford any mistakes with.
"you... you're sure i'm the one you want? i'm sure josie knows someone w-we could hire, someone that does this professionally."
