faderift | A bottle of white, a bottle of red

WHO: Open to anyone that wants wine and warmth and a little company.
WHAT: Wine and no whining.
WHEN: After the mage meeting wraps up.
WHERE: Close to the healing tents, specifically the Orlesian section.
NOTES: There will be wine, drinking, unwinding, and nibbles.

The meeting had been stressful for just about everyone involved. Tempers had flared, opinions made known, a few rounds of confetti and arguing before some manner of accord. Whether it would last or however long it might? No one could truly say. In the interest of being quite done with the stress and headaches such debate brought on the Orlesian healing tents clearing out the potions, bandages, and poultices in favor of what cushions and braziers they had on hand for light and for heat. The space was open, warm, and inviting with an odd assortment of tin mugs or clay glasses set around flat side tables propped up with stones to keep them from wobbling and tipping the whole mass onto the ground. There are some dried fruits and hard cheeses, dried meat and hard crusted bread- whatever scraps they could scavenge or spare and a few bottles of wine or brandy. Across the entrance to the tents there was a sign:

Bring a bottle or food to share for entry.

Tacked below was a list of rules:

Everyone is welcome, don't make a fuss
Don't hog the wine
Don't hog the food
Don't fight or argue
If you finish a bottle open a new one, don't recork it for someone else to find
Clean up after yourselves

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The meeting had been noted and the thought to attend had come and gone...Simon wasn't interested in politics. Or at least he couldn't afford to take part in them. He had bigger concerns...concerns that had made their own way to the after-meeting-meeting and proceed to open far more wine bottles than was feasible...

After doing his best to distract his sister from the wine, Simon dared to try and rest himself. Simon had sunk himself into a low chair, quietly reminding himself that it would be rude to have any of the food or drink himself since he wasn't able to bring anything to contribute. And saving most of the wine from his own sister's temporary madness did not count. His eyes closed, only for a moment, soaking in every bit of peace he could...until a movement caught his attention.

The healer looked up, instinctively straightening his posture in case he was being seen, and offered what had to be his dozenth apologetic smile of the evening.

"Rest easy, Simon." Adelaide's hand brushes against his shoulder for a moment, her other holding a steaming mug of tea sweetened with honey. Her smile's wider than it would be without the wine, the usual tense set of her shoulders somewhat more relaxed. As far as she can tell? No one has given her or anyone else cause for stress and for that she is most grateful. Though- it does seem as though Simon hasn't received the same memo as the rest of the attendees. "Here."

She offers the tea without further commentary.

It would have been hard not to laugh if she'd offered him wine instead of tea. Instead his smile softened at the familiar face as he reached up to take the heavy mug. His posture remained carefully controlled, shoulders even as he sat up a little higher in his chair, but small victories seemed to be the law of Simon's life.

"Thank you," he said, his expression turning more than a little self-aware. "I'll work on that...

"So, how did the meeting go?"

"The idea behind relaxing is that it is not work." She settles across from him in a wobbly chair, managing to not topple over despite the amount of wine in her system. "We are to have a council of elected mages similar to the college of magi in it's scope and intent. Beyond that we have agreed on little."

"I always get mixed up," Simon shook his head with self-mocking ruefulness, lifting the mug to take a slow drink. Seeing her tilt for a moment in her chair, in a way that could not be blamed entirely on the uneven seating, caught more of Simon's attention than talk of a council. Well, that wine had to have gone somewhere. Probably not all into Adelaide, but a fair share of it perhaps. He didn't do it out of judgement, only a healer's habit.

"It could work," Simon said, lips thinning between his teeth. "We can't go back to having Circles as they were, at least not yet. Too many mages have too low an opinion of them...but just a council? I can't imagine how anyone could object to that."

"Then the question is who shall sit and in what capacity and I will tell you right now- do not be fooled by Dorian's charm. He is pleasant and reasonable but he is equally devious in an entirely different way than we might have thought." Maneuvering her politically- or at least making her see the reason for his intentions to do so. How dare he. At least Benevenuta seems to be slightly less intent on making her into something she is not.

"Oh there will be objections. Give us circles or give us death from one end, give us anarchy or give us nothing at all from the other. I forsee a great many migraines in the future."

Simon hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Dorian yet, but he'd certainly heard of him. How could he not? The man's nationality alone made him infamous throughout Skyhold before he even had a chance at building a reputation. Which made her claim that he was devious while being pleasant hardly a surprise.

Considering Simon's own experience in Tevinter, he'd have to see and judge for himself at some point. Even so...he couldn't resist a bit of prodding.

"Devious how, exactly?" he asked. "He's not causing aches already, is he?"

"Be a voice of reason, he says, you understand better than most, he says. As though what happened at the last meeting of the College of Magi is not enough to give any reasonable mage pause." Wanting to take part in order to take power and wanting to keep things from spiraling out of control are very different things and she would thank Dorian to learn them.

And to push her a little less.

"So yes. Aches. But I cannot be too irritated with him I suppose."

"That does sound reasonable," Simon said, lips thinned between his teeth. "Calling it 'devious' seems like a bit of a stretch, however. To be completely honest with you."

So Adelaide didn't want to get too tied up in politics. Simon couldn't blame her for that, he knew he didn't either, and that was without taking River into consideration. He never had the skill for it and he likely would never learn. But Adelaide did seem to garner more respect from their fellow mages than most...she could do it, in Simon's opinion, if she wanted to.

"He lured me in with promises of reparations and wine. That is what makes him devious." She made no mention of what the reparations were for- as far as she was concerned it was behind them. "But it was good wine and he is, as I said, annoyingly reasonable. So I cannot begrudge him his reason."

"Ah," Simon said, brow lifting as he nodded in teasing sympathy. "I can see how that would be deceptive. It's a bit like twisting one's arm by offering them hot tea."

Cue a pointed look at the mug in his own hands before he took a sip.

"Of course, if it's for your benefit, it's hard to really be offended I would think," he was sure to add.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she reached out, flicking his ear. Gently, but she flicked it none the less. "Mind your manners, Simon. A lesser woman would think you were mocking her."

Simon's grin was wickedly wide, shoulders ducking to protect himself but he didn't try to escape his punishment completely. This was, perhaps, the most relaxed he had ever been since arriving in Skyhold.

"I would never," Simon insisted, his grin softening into a smile. "I only meant to make an analogy to better understand...I'd never mock."

"You had best not." She pointed at him with as stern a gaze as she could manage, which was not terribly. It was good to see him smiling, to see him this relaxed.

"Of course," he agreed with a nod into his tea, paused and then murmured a quiet: "Teasing is another matter entirely."

Who was to say how long it would last, but for now Simon seemed content. His sister hadn't gotten into all that much trouble, and...well, actually that was about all Simon really needed to have his spirits lifted these days.

A bottle of white, a bottle of red

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