[ OPEN ] Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and YOU
WHAT: Zevran's Birthday and Ardent Blossom Contest
WHEN: Forward dated to Guardian 5
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Shenanigans connected to this announcement

Someone had been a sneaky little shit, preying on Zevran's lack of familiarity with traditions and dates and the weight people tend to put on something so mundane as a 'birthday'. Someone (Alistair) had spread word and made a thing of it, despite Zevran not seeing the point nor truly wishing to cause a fuss. He had, however, decided to take a day for himself to do nothing. No fuss, no stress, no real work. A day to indulge in a few of his many hobbies. He did not know what one did on their birthday normally but here he was, sitting in the Courtyard with one of his found spoils on his head, awaiting those that paid mind to his earlier announcement. When he wasn't idly sketching whoever he saw in the courtyard he was in the Herald's rest, enjoying a quiet drink and making notes on the better stories or songs he has heard throughout the day.

Comments

[ombranera]

"A few contenders have come by, yes. I mean to hand them out at the end of the day in private rather than announce it. Less chance of wounding pride, that way." For this is all in good fun and he has no desire for anyone to feel as though they are less than exceptional.

Even those that aren't skilled at something are at least pretty. Which is, in and of itself, a skill.

In his lap he has journal open, softly smudged lines making the shapes of several faces- people he has seen today some from memory. Currently? All elven. Pel, Skinner, Merrill, Zathrian, one in the lower left with more detail lovingly laid in around the curl of her lash and cut of her smile. He sets his charcoal aside to accept the box, dusting his fingers off on a scrap of fabric darkened from the day's use. "What is this, mm?"

Gifts. Another one- someone else Alistair has whispered to but by now? He simply chuckles softly under his breath as he unknots the ribbon and peers inside. Something made, simply made, out of silk and leather. It reminds him a good deal of his belt tucked under his leather boots back in his room; nonsensical to anyone but those that understood the sentiment. The halla's antler- as he has seen enough to know it when he sees it, softens his eyes considerably. Without a word he pulls the necklace from the box and slips it on, adjusting the length until the white of the wing shown brightly against the tanned and inked V of his skin one could see through the open collar of his shirt. "I attempted to live among the Dalish in my youth- have I told you that? One of the Antivan Clans. Before I was ever a member of the crows, I ran when I heard they came close. They did not take me in but- they didn't kill me for my curiosity either. Without anywhere for me to stay the night before they escorted me back to the gate I slept among the halla."

[arlathvhen]

"That sounds like a smart idea. And it makes sure that you see all the contestants." She replied, tilting her head as she looks over all of the elves drawn. She smiles at the ones she recognizes, and squints thoughtfully at the ones that she doesn't. That one in the corner is particularly pretty. Beleth wonders for a moment if she's an elf in Skyhold Beleth just hasn't seen yet--But then Zevran is opening his present, and her focus turns on that.

He likes it. At least, his face seems to show that he's pleased with it, and he's wearing it right now. She relaxes, knowing that at least she hadn't managed to accidentally insult him or that he would despise the idea of having a present that was so unapologetically Dalish. Just like her.

She frowns at his tale, however, lips pressed together. It's not a surprising story, even if she doesn't like it. "That was wrong of them." She told him quietly, frowning. "I hate it, when I hear Dalish refusing city elves who want to join them. We're dying out, our numbers are getting smaller each year, either from violence, people defecting--" Here her jaw clenches. "--Or whatever else. We complain, then we refuse elves who would seek to join us? It's stupid. Their blood is just as pure as ours is. I mean--Interrace children aren't elves, so any elf is a product of elves. We're all descendants of the Elvhen, and we talk about how with Arlathan rises again, all the city elves and Dalish will come together again. But then we refuse elves who try to start the process early." Her hands grip her pants, fingerings digging into the rough material, only growing more frustrated the more she speaks on it.

"They say that the alienage in Val Royeux has the population of thousands of elves, all of them forced into a tiny amount of space. If we took the ones who wanted to leave and see the beauty of nature? Of running barefoot in the forest? Of having no one to answer to but your family? Even a fraction of that population would be enough to make a large clan." There were a few issues that would have to be ironed out, of course, but wouldn't it be worth it, to stop feeling like they were an endangered species?

[ombranera]

"It is how it is. With Antiva a bastion for brigands and rogues for centuries? Caution is likely the wisest course. There is more than one story of the crows of old sending out a young elf of their own seeking sanctuary only to return with all the young stolen from a family slaughtered. So long as they are taken before they have their tattoos? The Crows figure they can shape them. Whether or not there is any truth to this- knowing the Crows as I do? I wouldn't doubt it." But this, for once, is not what he wishes to think on.

What he does not wish to discuss.

Beleth's passion is to her credit, however. He may not understand her drive nor may he share her perspective; but he can respect that she has it. That she wants more. They need such people in Thedas for after whatever comes next. A war is a war- rebuilding afterward? he had seen who thrived in Ferelden. Those with vision. Those with drive. The scars are young yet but...the rift words, the right mind behind them? Something could come of it.

Casually he drapes an arm across Beleth's shoulders and pulls her in close, flipping to a fresh page for sketching. The lines are soft and done from memory, but he recalls the Halla well enough. "I took it as a sign of trust. An outsider, permitted to sleep with the Halla? It was not even so cold as to require it. I think, perhaps, they were cautious but wished to offer me something I would not find in the city."

[arlathvhen]

That tale hits clearly hits Beleth--she hadn't thought of that. Her face crumples in a scowl, eyes focused on her hands as she digested this new information. The first feeling is a low simmering anger, and she wants to promise to take the Crows to task, to avenge a clan that had no one left to do it. But she's sure that Zevran doesn't want to think about this on his birthday. So instead, she files it away for later. There's nothing she can do now, if ever. What could one Dalish do against the Crows?

"I'm sure we could figure out a way to deal with that." Is what she says instead, though she can't keep the anger and the promise of violence out of her voice.

But now Zevran's arm is around her, and he's drawing. So she relaxes, leaning against him as she watches him sketch. It reminds her of the way that her twin drew, the drawings from him that she's squirreled away some place safe. "I can't speak for another clan, but I think that's a safe assumption. We don't let just anyone near our halla. Still..." Her lips twist, just slightly. "But I guess it's in the past. And nothing can be done, with the Crows still around."

[ombranera]

"Not for long." How confident was he? Probably too confident, but his lips took on a particularly sharp edge. "They sent a cell of ten after me when I rode to Skyhold- and they were all ill seasoned- young. Not terribly well trained. I offered them mercy as I always have- they do not have a choice in what it is they do. You obey or you die, in the Crows. But whatever price they have on my head is more than enough for none to accept. But they are running out of Assassins to send after me. There cannot be that many Grandmasters left."

Perhaps five or six. When he is done with this Inquisition business? He will take them all in one fell swoop. Then Thedas will be rid of them. Antiva will have to use the other houses- those that did not have quite so horrific practices in training.

"Not yet but, soon."