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She had to take a moment when they stepped inside to adjust to the din; the place was absolutely packed. What looked like the entire town was crowded around the inn’s few tables, drinking merrily. Arenth and Anders wove their way through the crowd to the rough-hewn bar. The innkeeper gave her a very odd look when she commented on the crowd; ignoring it, she requested a room and two hot meals to be brought up, sliding over a few extra coins for the inconvenience.

As they climbed the stairs towards the rooms, the noise level dropped to where she could actually hear herself think.

“Well that was unexpected,” Anders said as he swung open the door to the room they’d been given.

Arenth was silent, counting in her head. They’d been on the road for a long time; winter had definitely hit Ferelden in full force. She set her pack down next to the small desk, and looked out the window at the heavily falling snow.

“It’s First Day, isn’t it? Or, I’m guessing tomorrow is,” she said softly.

The floorboards creaked as Anders crossed the room to stand behind her at the window. “You’re probably right. It would explain the revelry we just witnessed, anyway.”

Arenth sighed. A new year. It ought to have been a sign of hope, a chance at a new beginning. But what new beginning was there for them? Anders would always be a fugitive, and she… she could not bear to leave him, as much as she sometimes wished she could. She slumped into a rickety wooden chair, head in her hands.

“I’m just glad for a chance to finally thaw my feet, and maybe get a decent night of sleep,” she muttered.

“I think my feet may be a lost cause,” Anders said, nose wrinkling as he examined his ruined boots.

The cheerful noise from downstairs hit a crescendo, and then subsided as the sound of a lonely fiddle took its place, carrying easily through the wooden floors. Soon other instruments joined in, and the noise of the crowd returned as she assumed people sought out dance partners. Arenth just closed her eyes, listening to the simple tune. It reminded her a bit of one her father used to hum sometimes.

When she opened her eyes, Anders was standing in front of her, his hand outstretched. She stared up at him, one eyebrow raising slightly.

“Dance with me,” he said simply, still holding out his hand to her.

“My feet are killing me,” she said. “I just want to sit by the fire and then sleep—”

“Please, Arenth.”

She never could resist him when he spoke like that. His warm amber eyes sparkled as she pushed herself out of the chair, groaning slightly.

“How often do we get this chance?” he said as her arms wound around his neck. His hands rested easily on her hips as they began to sway slowly back and forth, not really in time to the music. She let out a slow breath as she relaxed, leaning her head against his chest.

“You mean the world to me, Arenth,” he murmured. “You know that, right?”

She let out a shaky breath, her eyes scrunching shut. She loved him—needed him—too much. Her heart ached with it. Everything would have been so much easier if she didn’t. If she could have just ended it that night in Kirkwall, or just left, but… Maker help her, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to do it.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

His arms tightened around her waist as they stood there, barely even moving anymore as they just held each other close. Eventually the song drew to a close.

“Can we get in the bed now?” Arenth asked. “My feet really do hurt.”

Anders chuckled softly. “Of course,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose.

They both pulled off their sopping boots and clothes, laying them to dry by the fire Anders easily lit in the grate. Arenth pulled back the blankets, slipping gratefully under them. Anders slid in behind her, winding an arm around her waist.

“Good night,” he whispered.

“Night, Anders.”

For all that she had relished the opportunity to get a full night’s sleep, Arenth had a terrible time finding it. Her eyes remained resolutely open, staring at the wall across from her. Anders’ breathing was slow and even; he never had as much trouble sleeping as she did.

The shadows from the moonlight slowly moved across the room; after a while, the noise of the crowd downstairs swelled and then exploded, loud cheers breaking the quiet. The last candle must have burned down, marking the start of a new year.

Anders mumbled something incoherent, his arm tightening momentarily around her waist before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Now:

Eres's first conscious thought was that she really wished that bronto would get off her head. She rolled over onto her back, trying to ease the ache left by the too-hard bed she was lying on. Wait. No bronto. The bronto was in her head? Or maybe a stampede of brontos. Ugh. The pounding. Maybe she was dying. Was this what dying felt like? No, probably just hung over. Fuck, how much had she had to drink?

She should probably also figure out whose room she'd apparently crashed in, so she could tell them to get a new damn bed. This one really was absolutely appalling. She cracked an eye open. Ow fuck fuck fucking shit. Creators, it was bright. Okay, opening her eyes was a bad idea. Wait, why was it so bright? Wincing at the light, she reluctantly opened her eyes again for a second. Oh. She was outside. That explains why this bed was so shit, it wasn't a bed at all. She'd somehow fallen asleep on the hard slate of the tavern roof. Why the fuck was she up here? She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, then crossed her arms over her face to block out the light.

Her pillow moved suddenly, and one of her hands flew up to still it as the motion set her stomach roiling.

"Oww, fucking shite balls that's awful."

"Sera?"

She glanced up from under the shield she'd formed with her arms. Yep, definitely Sera.

"Quizzy? What're you doin' in here?"

"In where? We're on the fucking roof, Sera," Eres mumbled, still unwilling to commit fully to consciousness.

"Oh, riiiiight." Sera moved again, and Eres groaned slightly. "You look almost as shite as I feel." Sera sniggered slightly. Then she was abruptly gone and Eres's head was colliding with the hard roof. Fucking ow. She really hadn't needed spinning on top of the persistent pounding in her head.

Some really lovely retching noises assaulted her ears from over by the edge of the roof. That would at least explain Sera's sudden departure. Eres peeled herself off the slate, easing into a sitting position. The world began to spin slightly. The sounds of vomit trailed off, and she looked over to see how Sera was doing, only to notice—

"Sera, why are you covered in… is that frosting?"

Whatever it was, it was pink and splattered all over Sera's clothes and hair and… just about everywhere. The elf's head reappeared from where it had dropped below the roofline. She ducked her chin to get a better look, then ran a finger through the maybe-frosting and stuck it in her mouth.

"Mm. Frosting, yeah. You're in it, too." Sera gestured at Eres's body with the finger she'd just finished licking.

Eres looked down. Sure enough, she was covered in the stuff as well, from her hair to the rumpled silk formalwear she was still wearing. Right, that banquet was last night. "Creators, Josie is going to kill me," she muttered.

"ERES!"

The accented voice echoed through the courtyard. Okay, when I said Josie was going to kill me, I didn't mean actually right now! Eres had only heard Josie that angry… well, never, actually. She risked a peek over the edge of the roof. Josie was rushing down the steps from the main hall, looking… well, ruffled. Ha. Too bad Varric isn't here to appreciate that one.

Eres looked back towards Sera, whose eyes had gone wide, though an amused smile played at her lips.

"Hide!" Sera cried, and dove through the window back into the tavern, landing with a thump and making some kind of noise halfway between a giggle and a groan. Eres scrambled across the roof after her and ducked into the window.

Once inside, she had to pause for a moment so she could permanently record the sight she was met with into her memory.

Bull had somehow fallen asleep half-on, half-off Sera's window seat. One arm was flung up in the direction of the windows, and his head was bent backwards at an awkward angle to rest on the seat cushions. Dorian, clothes rumpled and mustache askew, was face-down on the window seat, drooling into Bull's arm. It was… oddly adorable. Eres smiled fondly, but the sound of angry Antivan muttering from downstairs snapped her back into action. She stepped out into the tavern, only to find that Sera was nowhere in sight. Varric was snoring fast asleep in a chair, short legs propped up on the nearest table…. but no sign of Sera. Shit. Eres froze, glancing about and finding a distressing lack of decent places to hide

Josie's muttering was growing louder, so Eres did what any respectable adult would do, and crawled under a table. She rested her forehead on the tavern floor; the spinning was back with a vengeance after all that sudden movement.

10 hours earlier:

Pink frosting had gone everywhere. One Orlesian noble had received a large dollop right to the mask, and was spluttering indignantly, saying some very rude things indeed in his native language.

Josie's impeccable attire had not been spared either. Her eyes had grown almost comically large, her nostrils flaring to the point that Eres half expected smoke to start coming out of them. But no, all the smoke was coming from the… well, what used to be the cake.

"RUN!" Sera screamed, cackling madly as she fled from the hall, Eres quickly sprinting after her.

"To the tavern!" came Bull's deep voice beside her, and with one fluid movement he had scooped Eres and Sera up to sit each of them on one of his massive shoulders.

"You really must tell me how you came by such a… proclivity for pyrotechnics, Inquisitor. It's really quite astounding," Dorian said, appearing next to them at a run.

Rapid, clomping footsteps closing in behind them announced that Varric had also joined their little escape party.

"Leaving without me? I'm hurt!"

Despite seeing no sign of a pursuit, they raced madly across the courtyard, Eres and Sera giggling madly as they clung to Bull's horns. Bull had to practically crouch to get through the tavern door without banging their heads against the lintel. He deposited them at a table before proceeding to the bar.

"First round's on me!" he shouted, banging a massive fist on the counter.

He returned a couple moments later with several large mugs, their contents sloshing out onto the table as he slammed one down in front of each person before raising his own in a toast. From the nearly overpowering odor, Eres guessed it was the Qunari liquor he favored.

"Here’s to the look on that Orlesian's face when that thing went off!"

"Hear, hear!" They cried, banging their mugs together before each taking a swig.

Now:

"Eres, if you don't get down here at once…"

Footsteps. Josie was probably heading towards the stairs to come drag Eres down by the ear. But then-

"May I assist you, ambassador?"

Solas. Oh, thank the Creators.

"Yes. You may retrieve the Inquisitor right away, that she may attempt to salvage our rapport with the Duke de Mépris."

"Of course, Ambassador Montilyet."

Solas's bare feet made no noise against the rough wooden floor, but soon Eres could see his legs from her hiding place as he crested the top of the stairs.

"May I ask why the mighty Inquisitor is hiding under a table in the tavern?" Solas said, crouching down on the floor by where she had inexpertly hidden.

"No, you may not," she groaned into the floor.

"Will you come out, Eres?"

"Nnnnnngh."

One of the chairs set around the table pulled away with a clatter, and then Solas's hands were tucked under her arms, coaxing her out from underneath. When they had cleared the edge of the table, he lifted her up and set her on top of it. It might have been all in her head, but she swore he had swayed a little bit with the effort.

"Feeling well, vhenan?" The amused lilt to his voice told her he knew exactly how well she was feeling.

Eres groaned again. "What do you think?"

Solas chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. His hands came to rest gently on her hips.

"You will need to make an apology to the Duke, unfortunately," he said.

"Can I do it later?"

"That is probably wise. You would not make the best impression in your current state." Solas smirked at her again.

"You make an excellent point, serah."

Eres leaned further into his embrace, letting her eyes fall closed. She started to drift off slightly, but then a thought crossed her mind and she leaned back slightly to study Solas's face.

"What were you doing in the tavern?" Eres asked.

"I was… coming to check on you, that is all."

"Mm-hmm. And you just happened to arrive about the same time Josie came storming in hear screaming for me? Funny, I didn't see you coming."

"A mere coincidence." Solas's eyes narrowed at her.

"You got drunk and fell asleep down there last night, admit it!"

"I did no such thing, I assure you." His voice was solemn, but the slight quirk of the corner of his mouth gave him away to one who knew his face as well as Eres did. She let out a small huff of laughter.

"Of course, how silly of me. You're clearly much to dignified to pass out drunk in a tavern like the rest of us slobs. Forgive my mistake." She smirked at him, and leaned further into his embrace. Her eyelids began to droop slightly again, now that the adrenaline of running from Josie was wearing off.

"Solas?" she said, forcing her eyes open again as she leaned back to look at him, head tilting inquisitively.

"Yes?"

"Do you know why I'm covered in frosting?"

He chuckled. Uh oh. This was not going to be good.

"You don't remember, do you?" he asked, an aggravating smirk taking over his features.

"Would I be asking you if I did?"

"Hm, I suppose not. In short, you and Sera decided to… conduct an experiment in pastry pyrotechnics."

"We blew up the cake?"

"You blew up the cake."

Well… that explained at least some of Josie's ire.

10 hours and approximately 2 minutes earlier:

"Did you put it in?" Sera asked, taking a hearty gulp from the fancy goblet of wine she was holding, and then making a face at it. Then she sniggered suddenly, and muttered that's what she said.

"Yes, I put it in."

Sera grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go watch!"

Josie stood on the dais where the monstrosity of a cake was displayed, calling for attention.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I want to thank all of you for coming to Skyhold to celebrate the achievements of…."

Eres lost the trail of Josie's speech as she focused on the candle that was once more positioned on top of the cake, though now with a few… improvements of her own. Instead of a simple flame it would let out a small firecracker, a much more exciting way to mark the celebration if you asked her.

Josie had lit a match, and was lifting it to reach the top of the cake… A pleased smile took over Eres's face as she looked on, and Sera was nearly bouncing up and down beside her.

The flame caught, and—