[Closed] Drink With Me To Days Gone By

[madame_de_fer]

WHO: DAI advisors and companions, yes even Cole
WHAT: Drinking and remembering... party? Not a party.
WHEN: Mid Guardian, right after this. Well, once everyone's not freezing ass in the snow.
WHERE: Vivienne's Balcony
NOTES: Drinks. Feels. Varric and Cassandra, please keep to opposite ends of the balcony, if you please. (Tag around and in and whatever how you like.)



[After the heated emotional outbreak over the sending crystal, and the resultant reminder of the one they've lost, Vivienne quietly opens her balcony to those who knew the Herald best. Silent drinking is allowed, raging tempers are not. Sharing fond memories of the Herald welcomed and possibly even craved.]

Comments

[qunari]

[ They're all feeling it. All coping in their own way. Bull's lost people before, and it's never an easy thing. The shreds of guilt remain long, long after.

He knows Dorian tends to mask the hurt with sharp laughter and wit, but that doesn't mean he's feeling any less than the rest of them. Quite the opposite, in fact. The mage has pretty obvious tells to anyone who pays attention, and Bull has been.

So he siddles away from the rest of the 'party' and lets himself lean against the edge of the balcony, not far away. ]

Needed the fresh air?

[ The corner of his lip twitches wryly. ]

[liberalum]

[ Bull certainly isn't the kind of spy that you don't see coming. Dorian raises an eyebrow when he notes Bull's shadow off to the side in a sort of low key acknowledgement, before glancing down into his wine glass, held two-handedly, elbows set against the balcony railing. ]

I can only suffer so much in the way of genuine expressions of feeling in one evening, [ he confirms, as wry as you please, even if there's probably a ring of truth to it. His attention settles again out at the courtyard, the touches of firelight where evening watch is settling, the crisp edges of snowy mountains beyond.

He sighs. ]

Evelyn would have liked this place.

[qunari]

[ It was the kind of thinking he didn't like to allow himself. She would have liked this, approved of that. This is what she would have done, or said, or disapproved of, or inspired them to do. The boss had been one of a kind. Without her here, alive, it hardly mattered what might have been.

But everyone grieved in their own way. Bull just nods quietly. Dorian's not wrong, in any case. ]

Yeah. Kind of hard not to.

[ Skyhold had become less a shelter in the storm, as the months wore on. Hard to say what it was, now, but more seemed to cover it. There was a sense of returning somewhere one belonged, to a group of people familiar and bound together by their cause.

Home? Nah. A little early for that.

Bull's gaze drops to Dorian's hands, still cupped against his glass. ]

[liberalum]

[ Immune to Bull's more contrary thoughts, hidden away, Dorian settles into the agreement silently, basking in an indulgent kind of melancholy made warmer with drinking. With exception to Felix, who had been a dead man walking for some time, he hadn't had friends, and Evelyn could have been one.

It's different these days, anyway. For all that Skyhold does not expressly welcome him, he has his allies. He has this balcony, for instance, and the people behind it, and the subtle weight of Bull's focus on him. ]

Especially the wine stocks, [ he adds, cheerfully, a little late. ] Considering the swill she called alcohol.

[ He straightens, then, one hand gripping balcony railing, and neatly tips back his helping with one smooth swallow. ]

[qunari]

[ Bull says nothing to that, huffs as though amused, watching Dorian down the wine as thought that might help numb that sense of loss. Failure, if they're all more accurate about it. It's a feeling of failure. They were the ones who'd stood closest to her side. There should have been something they could do, some way they could have stayed.

And Dorian in particular... ]

Says the guy who drinks Ferelden brew when he thinks no one's looking.

[ The corner of his lip curls upwards, a knowing little smirk ]

[liberalum]

[ That gets Dorian's own subtle huff of probably-amusement, setting the empty glass down on the stone edge. He turns, then, resting back against it. ]

The real reason I linger on, [ he says, with an affected sigh. ] Even if I had some barrels of ale sent with me on the ship back, where would I hide it? And how long would it last?

And you mustn't tell anyone, [ he adds. ] Or they'll stop giving me pity cast offs in the form of fine wines and brandies.

[qunari]

Sounds like you've got some sharing to do, with a bounty like that.

[ Because distraction is sometimes the only way of dealing with loss. People die and you live on, and the world continues. There's good food, good company, good fights, and plenty of reason to keep going, even if it might seem easier if there weren't. It would seem more reasonable it push it all aside, to punish yourself.

But here they are. Evelyn brought them all together, so looking after her friends is maybe the least he can do. Even if it's not completely altruistic of him.

The Vint's been holding out on brandy. ]

[liberalum]

In fairness to me, my stock's been populated mostly thanks to this past Wintersend, which is celebrated with generousity and kindness rather than the usual way.

[ Which is obviously gladiatorial death matches to an audience. Tevinter!

But as for sharing, he presses a smile at Iron Bull, thin and suppressed, actually directing his attention towards him rather than cast vaguely out of at the dark courtyard, or the cold shapes of the distant mountain range. ] Perhaps I will, if you're lucky.

[ Light flirting, where no one is listening; although given the occasion, it's subdued, more of a promise of a promise, and his eyes flick focus away once more. ]

[qunari]

People actually like you down here. Go figure.

[ As opposed to the usual scheming, backstabbing, and potential for blood magic. Well. There still could be, of course, but things had been really mild in that regard, compared to activity further north. ]

Never say never, right?

[ Bull chuckles quietly, takes that and stores it away, and let his gaze fall to those distant peaks of white. ]