SATINALIA

[incaenstrix]

WHO: Everybody!!
WHAT: SATINALIA!!
WHEN: Backdated to the first day of Firstfall
WHERE: Gallows courtyard
NOTES: Drunkenness and shenanigans. HALLOWEENMAS!!

This Satinalia is, perhaps, less grand than in years past. Blockades are still limiting access to luxury goods, after all, so the fine liquors and dainty foods that have been featured before are nowhere to be found. And Tertia, the temporary Morale Officer, doesn't have the connections or deft touch of organizers past, so things are rougher than they've been before - the musicians are less polished, the ale a little more watered-down, the decorations somewhat haphazard.

But you know what? It's still Satinalia. Nothing can really screw up Satinalia. Especially because there are some rather lovely touches, the best of which might well be the ice skating rink. A section of the Gallows Courtyard has been roped off and frozen over with magic, leaving a (largely) smooth sheet of ice covering it. Skates are available to borrow if you don't have a pair. Of course, some injuries are definitely going to result (if you skate off the edge, you're smacking into stone instead of a soft snowbank, which can be disastrous), but hey, it's fun.

Other perks are the bonfires, with mulled wine and cider being served out of cauldrons around them, where people might sit and reflect while watching the flame. There's also dancing, of course, with the musicians basically being any band that's been recommended by members of Riftwatch - so there are lots of half-competent cousins-of-friends playing here. What they lack in skill they make up for in enthusiasm; this is the first gig for a lot of them, and they're thrilled to be here.

One thing that's missing is the Satinalia fool being named ruler. Tertia wasn't familiar with this tradition and didn't arrange it - so there's a last-minute campaign being held, in which people can either nominate others or self-nominate to be named Riftwatch's greatest fool to be celebrated.

Enjoy yourself. Exchange presents. Get drunk. Have a blast. Don't lose any teeth.

Comments

[sprent]

"Deal-" And then they're dancing away. Jude is a good partner. Nobody would call Gela elegant by any stretch of the word, she isn't even really practiced. She is enthusiastic though, clearly having fun. Her skirt swirls around them while they go, and she cheers for the musicians, who sound like they're enjoying themselves too.

Breaking one pair of clasped hands, she extends their other pair up, to indicate that she will twirl him, if he likes.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Jude passes very easily into the spin, ducking down to fit under her arms, then scooping her up around the waist to give her a spin, so her dress makes a beautiful, fluttering train.

The music breaks, leaving them all laughing, clapping- except Jude, who has his hands full. He lifts his eyebrows at her. Still on for being carried?

[sprent]

She gasps, delighted, her palms pressing against his shoulders when he lifts her- effortlessly, she notices!- and he's still holding her slightly aloft when the music stops, and everybody starts to roar and clap. His grip is steady enough that she can take a hand from him just to try and whistle between her fingers for the band.

When she looks back, it's with a false-wounded expression, eyebrows knitting together. Definitely still on for being carried, thank you in advance!

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"Hold on tight, or I'll lose you," he teases her, but he's already switching up his hold to draw one arm across the back of her legs, then take her weight there so he can curl one arm around her back and let her drop the foot or so down into an almost bridal style hold.

(It might be a variation of the frustrated-toddler skateboard hold, shhh.)

[sprent]

(What Gela doesn't know won't hurt her, okay.)

She flings an arm around his neck happily, and sits up as best she can in his hold, chuckling that deeper, true laugh of hers. This is incredibly silly, but she could never say that she isn't enjoying it.

"Jude," she says warmly while she has him, "Thank you for the Satinalia present! I love the little thimble so much."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

If she's going to be laughing about it, then he's going to have fun with it. The next few steps he takes, he uses to spin them around just fast enough to feel the vertigo before he deposits the both of them next to the bonfire.

"Good," he laughs along with her. "Actually been hanging onto that for a couple of months. Saw it in Cumberland, and it made me think of you."

[sprent]

She's already breathless, but what Jude says then makes the apples of her cheeks colour up abruptly. Oh, no. She doesn't want to think about home. Not now. Not here, or when she's with him.

Gela allows herself a wordless moment, and smooths down her skirt. The bonfire is good and warm, and she'll stretch her legs out to catch the heat, yanking the hem of her outfit up her shins by an inch or two beforehand (just in case). Soon, her shoulders ease.

"Thank you," she reiterates, "for thinkin' of me." That's the part she should be concentrating on. "You're so kind."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Jude catches it, that brushing ache against something inside of him. Soft enough to be imagined. He shouldn't have mentioned the place she's so determined to outrun.

He offers her his hand in wordless apology. His palms are warm and dry.

"You were one of the first people to be kind to me," he finally answers, sounding faintly uncomfortable with the praise, but in the manner of someone who has had that battle with himself many times.

"That sort of thing leaves an impression."

[sprent]

She looks at it, hesitating- it's not that she doesn't want to take it. She does, but he's too easy to talk to, his heart is too good. She's afraid of saying something to him that will change the way he's come to see her.

But Gela's resolve is weak, so soon she takes his hand and holds it.

"I'm glad." So it still works, her little trick, the endless smiles and the readiness with which she chips in to help. That's good to hear. "You're one of the first people to really talk with me," she admits, softening. "Everybody chats, about their work, and what they're doin', but it's nice to hear about somethin' more than that."

Jude's feelings. His family, the people that he misses. It helps Gela.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

They are similar that way, and perhaps that's why they haven't consciously seen it in each other yet. The way they relentlessly try to make themselves useful, needed, liked. At the same time, they find the people who need them.

It's a strength and a weakness in one.

Jude fastens his hand around hers more securely, letting his thumb drift over her knuckles, thoughtful.

"Yeah, noticed that too." Jude lets that settle heavily. "Was starting to think it's a Thedas thing, but maybe it's more of a Riftwatch thing. The people who end up here have seen their share of shit."

[sprent]

"Maybe that's why we're all here," she suggests, looking into the fire. But it's difficult to find somebody these days who hasn't seen their fair share, she thinks. Riftwatch really should be larger.

Something occurs to her, and she adds, still staring, "Because we don't want to take it any more. Because we want to do somethin' about it."

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Jude is quiet, thinking that through, resisting the urge to exclude the Rifters in her assessment.

The more he thinks about it, the more right she is.

"I didn't choose to be here," he admits. "A couple months back I would've said, it's not my war."

But of course the music around them, the crackling fire, the laughter and voices? The fact that he's sitting here with her? That's it's own rebuttal.

[sprent]

Gela nods. She relates to that more than he knows. She's guilty of having paid little to no attention to the war at all, it's not even why she came here in the first place. Too obsessed with herself, her own battles, and here Jude is, helping people he's been forced to belong to.

She feels quite small all of a sudden.

She squeezes his hand. Softly, "How do you feel now?"

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"It wasn't your war either, until it was brought to you."

Jude squeezes back, the firelight shining off his skin, the thin sheen of sweat and the too-light clothes for the season, the shadows around his eyes.

"But I was brought to you, too."

[sprent]

Gela can't help staring at him. Of course he means he was brought to Riftwatch but her heart squeezes up anyway, beating hard through a clenched fist. She's misinterpreted the meaning- and then she remembers the thimble, the single word in his handwriting, and words fail her utterly.

She must look ridiculous sitting there, holding his hand, looking at him. Maker how could anybody be that sincere, that earnest in their honesty. She keeps hold of his warm hand, and touches his cheek with her other, cups her palm to his face, fingers curling against the softness of his beard. Somehow she doesn't think he'll mind it.

"You can't say things like that to me," she says. It's meant to be funny, an honest admonition, but it doesn't work because Gela doesn't mean it. Not one bit.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

Jude had meant Riftwatch, but that's not how she took it. And to be perfectly honest, he's not entirely sure that that's the only way he meant it.

He more than doesn't mind the touch, but there's an element of guilt there for both of them, the sense of a snare tickling over their ears, the apprehension of straining for closeness and connection despite uncertain footing.

They are not ready.

Jude fits his palm over the back of hers on his cheek, squeezing and then releasing.

"Phrasing," he says apologetically.

"What I mean is that I'm here now. We all are. It would be a waste of what we could do, to do nothing."

And he means that too.

[sprent]

Gela thumbs over his cheek, and then she takes her hand back, with a sense of both relief and disappointment. It's difficult wanting to be looked at like that, by him, but hoping at the same time that he'll stop. That's really all Gela thinks she can offer him, or anybody, and sometimes that makes her feel desperately sad.

She smiles even though her brow has furrowed. She won't apologise for misreading his words, or touching his face. She's just glad that he hasn't tried to end the conversation, and walk away.

Phrasing.

"You're right," she says simply, and, "Thank you, I- think I needed to hear that. And to be here, with you, an' everybody else." This is the most like the old Gela she's felt in many years. She smiles a little truer this time, small, hopeful. "We're friends, aren't we?"

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"Of course."

His hands follows hers down, an unconscious reach that he makes himself stop before she pulls fully away.

It's confusing, this. And god, he doesn't know her well enough for any type of declaration. He barely knows anything of her at all. They've laughed together, shared drinks together, gotten to know others together- but what of who Gela was before Riftwatch?

And what does she know of him? Has he let her know anything?

Has he let anyone?

"Last thing I want to do is put you off," he says, soft. "But I'm still learning you, and you're still learning me."

[sprent]

"I don't think you could put anyone off, Jude, truly." Her gaze is fond, but she's taken herself back a bit from him, to keep herself from leaning any further in. He's an easy person to touch! A bit of space may do them some good, until they learn each other, as he said. Gela will try not to think about how much he wants to know, exactly. "An' I'm not put off. Promise."

Usually she's the one who pulls away... Gela prods at her own surprise very gently, and finds it's nothing so much as to make her want to get up and leave. This is a relief. She gathers her skirts so she can stand momentarily, dusting herself off.

"I need somethin' hot to drink," is what she's decided. "Can I bring you back anythin'?"

[foolsmakeitcolder]

"Sometimes that's the very thing that puts people off," Jude says with a somewhat rueful smile, but it warms at the reassurance.

Some part of him wonders if she will decide it's not worth the trouble, or the upset. If she'll decide Riftwatch is too much. He's thought about it a couple of times. Gela being gone. But it's never been so close as now.

Normally, he pushes off these questions with whatever you're having. Today, he decides against it.

"Mulled cider, please."