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]

"Grief and fear of loss can drive the most sane of men to extraordinary lengths. There was a man in Val Royeaux, not a noble, not a merchant- a baker that had a terribly ill child. He could not quite afford the price the Spire placed on the use of a Spirit Healer's time- normally we are only sent out for plague or famine- for an entire village rather than an individual. Whatever healers he had seen for them before either did not satisfy his needs or were unable to help. He sold his hair, his teeth, his horse, his home- and his youngest child." Madness is not so wrong a word to use.

[blightedson]

Felix frowns a bit at that. "I couldn't imagine giving up one child for another." Though, honestly, this story just makes him happy he's an only child.

[fleurdesel]

"Neither could we, when he told us how he found the coin. I do not know if the child was ever bought back but- I cured the one in question. Though whether or not they would live with him happily knowing what he did to their sibling, I cannot say."

[blightedson]

"I shouldn't be so surprised..." Felix says after a moment. "My countrymen have done worse to their own children. Or their grandchildren."

After a moment, he adds, "When my grandfather discovered I had little talent for magic, he tried to have me killed. Perhaps it's easier for some to deny those attachments."

[fleurdesel]

"...That is-" Horrific in no small way. Why should a simple lack of magical ability end in death? In dismissal? "...I am doubly glad you were able to study in Orlais, in this case."

[blightedson]

"Yes. I've come to realize that protecting me may have been one of the reasons my parents were so comfortable sending me there." A pause. "They've always looked out for me."

[fleurdesel]

"I do not fault your father for his intent, Felix. Only his actions." Intent is everything in the Fade- here? It is less clear, less certain.

[blightedson]

Felix nods. "I agree," he admits. "I'm not trying to make excuses for what he did. The way he treated your people..." He frowns a bit. "It goes against everything he ever taught me. I wish I could have done more to stop him."

[fleurdesel]

"You did what you could. No one can ask more of you than that- and if they are do point them out to me so I might have a few strong words with them for their foolishness." It did them precious little credit, expecting so much of anyone.

[blightedson]

Felix chuckles a bit. "People have been rather kind to me. I think it might be out of pity, but at least it means you don't have to give a stern talking to to anyone."

[fleurdesel]

"Pity." She does not quite spit the word but it is a near thing. "They think it makes them kind to be gentle rather than treating you as you are, not as how you shall inevitably be. if we all did that we'd be pitying everyone all the days of their lives."

[blightedson]

Felix considers her for a moment. "That's true. Compassion and empathy would be a much better motivation."

[fleurdesel]

"Precisely. But how much empathy is there for anyone anymore in the world? Precious little." Not near enough.

[blightedson]

"We can work to increase that, in our own small ways."

[fleurdesel]

"You have more faith in people than I do, Felix." She may not have given up entirely, but the wariness lingers. "I shan't keep you longer, I'm certain Dorian would like a moment of your time. Stay warm and if you've need of me-"

Well, what could he do, whistle? "Say. Something. Word will come round."

[blightedson]

He nods. "I promise to keep that in mind. Thank you for all of your help."

[fleurdesel]

"You are always welcome, Felix." She reaches over to squeeze his hand, less darting and brief than most of the similar gestures before she stands and weaves her way back through the crowd.