A bottle of white, a bottle of red

[fleurdesel]

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

Comments

[fleurdesel]

Galadriel being married made this safe. How it made it safe she couldn't put into words, but it did. Nothing would come of it. That they are friends, that they can sit like this and drink and discuss wine or life was more than enough for her. The words had tripped out and that? She blamed on the wine. But she couldn't blame it all that much when Galadirel giggles in turn.

Like bells. Tolling bells in a winter's morning. Cold and clear and bright and-


Wine and infatuation made a poet of her. She hid her smile in her cup, blushing and shrugging it off. "Then I shall content myself with that and ask for nothing more, yes?"

[laurenande]

It was not so sad a comment but, as she made it, Galadriel felt a twinge of sadness all the same. Her smile was apologetic and, close as they were, it was impossible to miss the softness in her eyes.

"It is not so sad a thing, to have a friend and love them dearly," Galadriel assured her and, in a moment of melancholy, she shifted one of her hands off of her clay cup and rested it on Adelaide's forearm. "Friends are precious, especially for those as old as I, and I would trade one for nothing."

[fleurdesel]

"No, not at all. I would call it practically joyous." To have that esteem, that affection? Was nothing short of miraculous to Adelaide for she still remained somewhat uncertain what it was she'd done to earn it. But it was earned and it was deeply appreciated, Galadriel swiftly becoming a soothing presence in what would prove to be a horribly chaotic life in Skyhold. Be it the wine, the warmth, or the light of her, Adelaide could not say, but the touch earned no flinch, no tension. "Then I am doubly glad and honored that you consider me as such."