OPEN: this will be a better year

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: First Day
WHEN: Wintermarch 1 (forward-dated)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Scouts from both the Western Approach and Emprise du Lion are welcome (but not required) to have returned to Skyhold in time for this event.

There have been better First Day feasts, and less crowded ones, and cheerier ones. It isn't a good year for many to look back on, and this one isn't starting any better. Reports from both Eastern and Western Orlais are grim. Many in the Inquisition can't afford to take more than a few hours away from their work, if that.

But for those who can, the ambassador does her best. At lunchtime some tables, hot food, and finery are reserved for visiting nobility and wealthy pilgrims--cause for grumbling in some quarters, perhaps, but they're the people filling the Inquisition's coffers, and allowances must be made--but there's plenty of stew, bread, and ale for everyone, even with the soldiers and refugees who stay outside the fortress invited inside for the holiday. The recently repaired garden and its carefully tended plants aren't off limits, but anyone noisy and holding a drink will be stopped at the door; the battlements, with their potential for deadly falls, are blocked by Inquisition guards. But the courtyards brim with people, most of them happy despite the possibility that the world might end before another First Day arrives.

If the courtyards are too full of tipsy visitors for comfort, there's also the valley beyond the fortress, expansive, barren, and covered in snow. By the river the soldiers help the refugees make a bonfire larger than would ever be allowed inside Skyhold's walls, and some lend their shields to use as sleds down the embankments. A group of scouts start the most intense game of hide and seek Thedas has ever seen, with snowballs to the face for whoever is found first. In the camp, a refugee girl with her hand wrapped in a green scarf chases other children around the tents, shouting raaar, I'm from the rifts!

Comments

[metaari]

There are a couple of glances cast their way as the crowd leaves that are joined with knowing grins but Metaari ignores them in favor of the elf in front of him. He'd almost forgotten what Merrick looks like in the daylight, with sun warming his skin, and he's struck.

It's unfair.

His grin softens to a faint smile and he tips his head, bringing Merrick's hand up so that he can brush his lips across his knuckles. "Of course I did. It was the best guarantee I had to find you again."

[dalishious]

"What's with you and the lines today?" Merrick teases, shaking his head, a blush on his cheeks and delight back in his eyes. He can't help it; even if it's a superficial thing, which he's certain it is, he's still happy.

He leans in a moment later. "Let's get more drinks. I need to disappear before someone asks for a rematch."

That, and he's certain an acquaintance will spot them--or worse, another Ashara--and he really isn't ready to share this with anyone yet, not beyond his little stunt during the match. No, this is his, something he wants to keep secret and safe as long as he can.

[metaari]

Metaari shrugs at the question with a faint smile. "What can I say? I've had some time to think on them. How's my delivery been?" The blush tells him that it's been pretty spot on, though, so an answer isn't strictly necessary.

The promise of drinks brightens him up and Metaari stands, hauling Merrick up along with him. He isn't holding his hand quite so tight anymore, but he doesn't let go, either; if Merrick doesn't want it, it's going to be up to him. Metaari uses it as a pretense to start hauling the elf across the lawn towards the nearest drinks, though, so maybe it won't be so terribly obvious.

"I was beginning to wonder if the whole thing was a lie," he said when he reached the nearest cask of ale, snagging a mug of it as it's passed out. "Something to shake me off."

[dalishious]

Merrick doesn't let go, but he does glance about furtively, keeping an eye out for his clanmates. There's no way he'd pull his hand away from the warmth Metaari is providing, as well as an anchor he can hold on to lest he get bumped about by the many larger bodies around him. He gets himself a mug, drains it, then passes it back for more.

"If I'd wanted to shake you off, I'd have just disappeared," he responds, accepting his new mug eagerly. "And I don't lie. I'll cheat or knife a man in the back, but lying is for diplomats."

[metaari]

"Fair enough." Metaari grins as Merrick chugs his drink down and he follows suit, passing his own mug off for a refill. This one he just sips at, using the cup to kind of block the fact that he can't stop watching the elf.

He tugs Merrick closer when a drunken human comes stumbling by, protectively pulling the slight frame tight up against his own. Or at least, that's the excuse he's going to use in order to hold Merrick closer. He glances down and smiles before casually lifting his gaze away. "I hope you don't have any plans for this week."

[dalishious]

Sobriety has long since left Merrick behind, and he feels warm and content despite the chilly air. He stays pressed against Metaari's chest for a while, tucked in and safe, and feels the rumble of his voice when he speaks.

He squints up at the Vashoth. "A week? Why?"

[metaari]

There's a slow grin that spreads across Metaari's face at the question and he takes the hand still in Merrick's and wraps it around that smaller body, fully enveloping Merrick against him. From behind, it wouldn't even look like there was anyone else standing there.

"Because," he mutters, leaning his head down a little so he can drop his voice, "you aren't going to be in any sort of position to go anywhere."

[dalishious]

It's like all the air leaves Merrick's lungs, and his legs feel weak as if he'd been running for miles. The alcohol he's consumed throughout the evening rushes to his head, making him dizzy. He's very familiar with all of these sensations, and finds them just as frustrating as he did the first time.

He'll grouse about it later.

"Inside the castle," he mumbles. It doesn't really matter where; nearly everyone is revelling outside.

[metaari]

Eager little rabbit, isn't he? Metaari just grins down at Merrick, rumbling slightly in the back of his throat. He sets his mug down after draining it, abandoning the drink in favor of running his fingers through Merrick's hair, his nails lightly scratching his scalp. He wants to bend over, take Merrick's lips, but it's too open, too many eyes.

He settles with gesturing toward the castle with his head instead as he drops his hand away from Merrick's hair. "Lead the way."

[dalishious]

[ continued here ]