Moments

Moment of Satinalia Eve

'Twas the night before Satinalia

And all through Skyhold

Not a creature was stirring

Except for the Herald

Josephine's pinched voice echoed down the hall, "-and I've secured a harlequin for tomorrow after that unfortunate accident with the bards."

Leliana laughed, "You should run your entertainment list by me first, Josie."

"Quite."

"I do not understand the point of this," Cassandra grumbled.

"Is is Satinalia," Josie tried to explain. Despite their voices carrying easily I could only spot the faint glow of the eternal candle upon her board, my fingers digging into the cracked door.

"It is a waste of time," Cassandra continued, "We've barely cleared out the debris or found quarters for our people and already you speak of feasting and...clowns." Her voice shuddered with that word.

"Harlequins," Josie corrected.

"They are vile either way."

"We need this, Cassandra," Leliana interjected, "Our people need this."

"Our people need a proper roof, not to sit around clapping their hands in amusement and losing themselves to milled wine."

"Mulled wine," Josie corrected again.

Leliana's sigh echoed down the corridor from Cassandra's resistance. Somedays it was a wonder those two ever got on enough to decide what to eat for dinner, much less craft the Inquisition. I stepped back from Josie's door, leaving those two to convince Cassandra. The last thing I wanted was to get dragged into another "Which one of us is right, Inquisitor?" arguments.

I wanted to get to the war room, but scaling the battlements and dropping down through a window would be wiser than facing the wrath of a Seeker forced to wear a funny hat. She snapped the Satinalia mask in half after Josie presented it to her. The war could wait for another day.

Few people dashed about the grand hall, most of the servants hunkered down in a preparatory sleep, but one or two tried to tie bunting to the scaffolding. Somehow, they kept slipping off their knots, the inquisition's eye staring up at the mostly patched roof.

"Inquisitor!" a young elf shouted, almost dropping the basket she carried as she bent to a knee. Must be new or with the flocks of invited guests.

I waved to her, "It's all right. If you see the ambassador or seeker, I was never here."

She glanced towards the door where the voices rose and nodded solemnly, "Yes, your worship."

"Good evening," I called, trudging towards my quarters.

"Happy Satinalia," rang out behind me.

Crack

Crack

"Oh, shite!"

I sprang from sleep, the curse ringing in my ears but no shadows moved in the darkness. The fullness of the second moon cast across the empty carpet, still on her climb over Thedas' sky. It couldn't be much past midnight.

A forgotten nightmare must have kept me tossing, knotting up blankets around my legs. I began to unravel the mess, hoping to free my feet when another crash echoed from below.