Truth or Dare: Side Party for Servants and Scoundrels

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone!
WHAT: A party for people who might scare the nobility, are deathly afraid of chandeliers, or fled the soiree with cheeses hidden in their clothes and need to make a clean getaway.
WHEN: During (and after) the soiree.
WHERE: The valley beyond Skyhold.
NOTES: Drinking, revelry. People might make out or something. We're not responsible for your actions.

The soiree might be fun, if you're into that sort of thing, but that isn't what it's for. It's for impressing the powerful and opening their pockets—and, necessarily, some people aren't invited. In some cases that's personal. In others, it's just understood. When they're done helping to set up, most of the servants and workers who aren't needed to serve make themselves scarce. The usual trickle of refugees to and from the fortress slows. Some people used to sleeping in the stables may find their "beds" occupied by nobles' horses or the rooms they had been squatting in cleaned and prepared for someone else to stay in.

There's no resentment. (Or at least very little.) That's how these things go. And in the valley outside the fortress' walls, there are foot soldiers and refugees and a number of miscellaneous exiles who welcome the company with large fires, cheap but freely flowing alcohol, and whatever music can be wrung out of instruments exposed to such low temperatures. The crowd thins and dwindles as the night wears on, but even after the last person has left the Great Hall in Skyhold, there's still a sizable gathering near the river with no intention of going to sleep before sunrise.

No masks allowed.

Comments

[girlinthebox]

There's a girl on the fringes of the party, slipping in and out of sight in an iridescent gown that seems far less pinned in than a lot of the other formal wear. Beautiful, certainly, but everything about the girl screams impropriety, from the loose drape of her clothes to her wild and untended hair, to her notably bare feet as she makes her way around the fires.

This party better suits her. The nobles look at her like she's a wrong thing, like a smell that just crept in under their noses. Their smiles are hollow and their hearts are full of lies, and she does not care for them.

Here, she can be. Just be. Steal some food out from under someone's nose and sip at the mead while no one is looking. And of course, anyone with a mind to dance has a willing, if wild, partner waiting in the wings.

[aintwejust]

"Now what did I say 'bout shoes and snow?" Mal sidles around till he catches her sneak'n a little something tasty, offering the usual handful of dried fruit he kept on himself for her no matter the day. She pops up in odd places, no reason to assume he won't see her eventually. Tonight it's dried apricots, all candied with honey and sticky sweet in their paper bag.

Good, honest snacking food, better than all that lacy mess on the hill.

[girlinthebox]

For a moment, she looks half-guilty, her head cocking inquisitively at the apricots before slipping her fingers into the bag to claim one. "Her heel had broken. She wanted to dance but couldn't show her face with broken shoes. Worse than not going at all. She needed them so she could dance with the face she remembered from last Wintersend," she explains, before nibbling at the sticky fruit.

"She needed them more."

[aintwejust]

"...that's- mighty kind of ya. We'll find you somth'n that has less clunk later, yeah?" He picks out an apricot of his own for a nibble, tucking the bag in his pocket. A girl be'n a girl, lett'n another girl be a girl.

"Well if you keep your feet on my boots, suppose that should keep you off the snow 'nuf for a dance."

[girlinthebox]

There is no snow this close to the fires, but she smiles anyway, cocks her head like they're sharing a secret. Mal likes to act tough and aloof, but his sweetness shows in little gestures, for a girl that isn't his kin but close enough to count.

He gets a very polite curtsy, all the same.

[aintwejust]

Even if it was the one trip- even if she's strange? She's his. Four letters and a lot of weight, but Crew is Crew and family's what you make of it. He can't fix what's wrong in her head but he can make the world a little brighter sometimes. Candy, dancing, kind questions.

He offers her a hand, smile warm and wide and genuine.

[girlinthebox]

Carefully, she creeps up, balancing herself on the broad, rough toes of his boots. She weighs next to nothing, with the way she balances herself, her hands carefully cradled inside his. Family. The feeling radiates warmth brighter than the fire, wrapping around safe and secure like a blanket around her shoulders.

She tastes sweets on her tongue and for just a moment, she can pretend they're all safe. They're untouchable, here and now.

[aintwejust]

He never had a sister. Too young to have a daughter- but there'd been a girl back before he'd been in the army. One of the hand's siblings or kids or what have you, he'd never known. But she took to him, he'd been kind to her and they were blood of a sort. The sort that comes up from living in the same place, sharing the same dreams, the same troubles. She didn't survive the Blight.

Not a lot of 'em did.

But he can set that ghost and every other aside, focusing on this girl what's taken to him. These hands and these feet light on his like it's nothing. Like they do this all the time. Shadows and stress fall away and he feels his years, thirty and some, rather than forever and an age. Laughs like he's never known grief as they fly around the bonfire.

[girlinthebox]

If she resembles a ghost, at least it is a good one, and her eyes laugh back at him as they move in time, her toes gripping at the leather of his boots. They could fly away, it feels like. River can tip her head back and see the stars spin around them like little lightning bugs, clinging close to her captain as they merrily make their way around the roaring fire.

Finally the music seems to trail off, and River responds by sinking forward, her arms slipping to wrap around Mal's middle. Her captain.

She'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

[justice_is_blond]

She looks happy. It's the first thing he notices as she moves about the floor and tables, and Anders has to smile watching her thread between everyone else. The second thing that he notices is she seems extremely good at dancing, which means one thing.

He sets his glass down and approaches, raising an eyebrow and holding out an arm. "May I have this dance?"

[girlinthebox]

He's caused a whirlwind with his revelations, with what he revealed. But she knew, knew all along and never told a soul, and now the masks are down and he is him. The spirit is quiet and he is smiling on the inside, even if his face forgets how.

Nodding, she reaches for his arm, a grin blossoming into place as she all but tugs him into the ring around the fire that seems to be the designated dance floor out here. Cold earth crumbles beneath her toes as she pivots on her heel and reaches, eager for a new dance. A new partner.

It's never quite the same, even if the music starts to blend together by the end of it.

[justice_is_blond]

He'll be forever grateful that she'd not talked of him. She could have. There were no ties to give her reason to stay quiet, no prior friendship, but she'd done that anyway while knowing so much more of who he is than nearly anyone else. River even welcomes his question with a grin and he's so absolutely glad to lose himself in the hasty spin and step of the dance the band's gone for.

Or not quite lose himself, because Maker, she can dance and he has to work to keep up. Not that he minds. Her energy is refreshing; she seems healthier out here than she does in the tents. Maybe music helps with what torments her? Maybe he should introduce her to Kalli, see if his not-quite-daughter's singing can help even further. But that's a thought for working on later, when he's not minding his feet and feeling his spirit grow lighter with each twirl.

"I hope you dance often," he says over the din. Everyone needs something that makes them happier, and by extension, healthier.

[girlinthebox]

He's not wrong. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, a definite difference from that day in the tent, or the ones that followed when Simon had tried his best to make her better. "I've been learning new dances, too."

Anders might not approve of the dances Zevran has been teaching her, however. The whirl of blades, the side-steps and leaps from shadow meant to deliver a deathblow. Justice, on the other hand, might understand the need for them.

"But those are for later," she admits brightly, her colorful skirts twirling as they move.

[justice_is_blond]

His mind doesn't go to fighting, not with the comment of later, and he can't help but raise an eyebrow before stopping himself. She's an adult. One who is deeply scarred, but truly, the same can be said of him. Just because he wears his past differently doesn't mean he has any right to wonder about her activity.

"May whomever they're for appreciate them," he says after a short beat. And he also hopes Simon doesn't try murdering the recipient. Simon strikes Anders as being very, very protective. Anders can feel that way over Kalli, but that's different.

As this tune draws to a close he lifts her hand and bends his head over it in a slight bow. "Thank you for this dance. ...and have you been feeling well?" It would be nice to hear that she has, but he'd like to hear the truth, either way it goes.

[girlinthebox]

"Some days I feel the sun. Feel the sky stretching high, feel the breeze on my skin. Things are louder, brighter then, but they're not too loud." Her head tips slightly, her untidy hair slipping over her shoulders. "Some days it gets closer. The walls are gray and glass and I can't push through, just wait for it to pass. It's quieter, but not better."

It makes her wonder what would 'cure' her in truth. How much of herself would need to be cut away to excise the sickness?

"Simon is trying other things," she continues, her tone slightly hopeful. "And the stars are bright, tonight. People are bright, shining, glimmering in the dark."

[justice_is_blond]

"Hold the sun and the sky, and I hope they do not become too loud. And if I can be of help to you or your brother, let me know."

Doubtlessly Simon has exhausted every regular avenue, but he has familiarity with creating things on his own, mixing them, finding new ways to mend and cure. If they've found a happy medium them good, but if there's a way to help Anders will be there. She deserves a chance to live.