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

[ombranera]

"I will handle it." He repeats- not at all cross with having to do so. What manner of teacher had she before that something so simple as allowing a mistake would baffle her? For him it would be jarring- but he was raised as a Crow. As best he can tell she has lived no such thing. But he takes this, tucks it carefully away in his memory for future instances.

Mistakes are made- but no one has died from it. No one has come to harm. Fright? Certainly. But not harm. There has been no blood.

"You know where I stay, yes? If not I will lead you to the room later tonight. It is a ways in the back but I've a coal brazier to keep the room warm and blankets enough. Alistair is a bit of a cuddler- but if you elbow him in the ribs he will move."

[arlathvhen]

He reassures her, and this time, she just nods, relaxing against him. She, personally, sees little wrong in the way she was raised, being taught mistakes weighed more heavily than accomplishments--despite how it was yet another source of anxiety for her. Her mother, after all, loved her. She was just trying to make sure Beleth was prepared for the consequences of the world.

But she couldn't help but feel desperately grateful to Zevran anyway.

She nods to most of his instructions, looking a great deal relieved by the idea of not being alone. The only hesitation is when Zevran begins to tell her about Alistair cuddling, and if her face wasn't red before, it's certainly edging on it now.

"Uh. Elbows. Right. I'm, ah. Sure it won't be an issue." And some nodding, just to assure him everything was fine and dandy.

[ombranera]

"We will see this made right, Beleth." None are permitted to simply strongarm his little bird and walk away unscathed. This Nerva needs to hear a few kind words with a kinder smile- and Cullen needs to know he ought to mind his supposed templars.

Informing him will be the simpler of the two tasks. He does not yet know how to play against the wayward templar.

"Come. It is a night for dancing, yes? Have you ever danced in the Antivan style?"

[arlathvhen]

She nods again when he assures her it'd be made right. And she believes him. She's yet to see him fail at anything, and he's always so confident, it's hard to do anything but believe him. She shoves her various worries to the side, ignoring them for now.

Dancing was a much better idea.

"I haven't. I don't know many dances outside of Dalish ones. But I'd love to learn." And with a much more relaxed smile, she held her hand out.