A/N: Hello! This fic will be a companion piece to Forged Through Fade and Flame. One-shots that I can't fit into FTFF, or which perhaps elude me when the time was right. The first few will take place during the winter I skipped between O Seeker Still Seeking and Forged Through Fade and Flame. Some will be fun, some will be smutty, others will be fluffy and/or full of feels. Anything is game.
They might stand alone, but they'll make most sense if you're following along with the main story.
To start, we have a request from Mischieftess, who gave me the idea during a brainstorming session and therefore was awarded the first chapter as a request. And she requested: Sera's Pranks.
Here you go!
Sera watches from the rafters as Josephine Montilyet sits at her desk, absorbed in her work. She's been up here for hours waiting for Miss Prissy-Pants to frigging finish or leave or something. She can't move until the ambassador leaves the office.
I hope she does it soon. My leg's startin' to cramp…
The door opens, but it's someone coming in, not leaving. She uses the slight creak of the door to cover the sound of her leg moving, relieving the cramp. White hair flashes, and then the Inquisitor's face is staring up at her. Sera moves her hand, placing her finger over her lips in the universal sign for "shut it." The other elf's eyes narrow, but she nods, shutting the door behind her.
"Inquisitor!" Josephine exclaims. "I was not expecting you. What can I do for you, your Worship?"
The Inquisitor sighs. She hates that title. Sera can tell by the way her shoulders are still tense on the exhale. Should come up with something else, just us. Don' want her gettin' used to it, gettin' all high 'n mighty… Inquisitart? Your Fartship? No… need one she'd actually let me use… Sera keeps thinking of nicknames for the Inquisitor through the boring conversation below, nearly laughing out loud at some of them. But her attention snaps back to the two below her when the ambassador follows Zanneth out of the room.
Taking her chance, Sera swings down from the rafters. She takes the large mop bucket stored between the reading chair and the wall in the corner, climbs the back of the chair, and sets the bucket on top of the open door. She then hurries back to the bookcase, scaling its shelves just as she hears Josephine's voice, growing closer. Putting on a burst of speed, she swings back up into the rafters just as the door begins to move.
"I do not know if- ah!" The bucket falls, dousing the Lady Amb-arse-ador's – that's a good one! – pretty hair and expensive dress in soapy water normally used for mopping the floor. It was perhaps cruel, but… nah. Gotta get her head out of her arse!
Sera devolves into giggles, nearly falling out of the rafters at the look of complete and utter astonishment on Josephine's face. The tiny smile on the Inquisitor's face just eggs on her laughter, and finally she has to get down, or she'll fall down. Her giggling never stops, however.
"You!" It's all Josephine can manage, spluttering and wiping mucky water from her face. It just makes Sera laugh harder.
She is finally ousted by several guards; their Inquisition tabards look so official it makes Sera want to spit. The moment her arse touches the floor, she's off in search of another mark.
"Sera, wait!"
Sera stops dead, turning to see the Inquisitor had followed her out of the ambassador's office. "What can I do fer ya, Inky?"
Zanneth furrowed her brows. "Inky?"
"Yeah, ya know. Inquisitor. Inky. Can't call you that mouthful all the time."
Those white brows furrow further, but the elf connected to them merely shakes her head. "All right." Right! Got one she'll let me keep! "Why did you do that to Josephine?"
"What, prank her? Cuz." Sera shrugs. "Needed to be done, it did."
"I don't follow."
Sera sighs. "Right. Come on. You need a lesson."
"A lesson?"
"Yeah. A lesson." She halts, seeing another familiar white head shining in the crisp mountain air. "Oy! Solona!"
The mage looks up, then begins jogging over to them. "What can I do for you, Sera?"
"Help me teach her why we prank," Sera says, hiking her thumb over her shoulder at the Inquisitor. "Come on. I need a drink."
Solona takes this in stride, nodding sagely before throwing her arm around Zanneth's shoulders and dragging her along. "Come along, Zanneth," she says. "It's important work, and Sera is particularly good at it."
Several minutes later, they're huddled around a small table in the quiet tavern. Sera hates it. No tavern should be this quiet after sunset. It prompts her to launch right into her speech. "Right. So. Listen 'round you. Ya hear tha'?"
"Hear… what, exactly?" Zanneth says, polite interest written all over her face.
Frig that. Sera doesn't need polite interest. She needs invested interest. "This is a tavern. Where's th' hullaballoo? Where's th' noise? Where's th' drunk people?!" She shakes her head. "This place is a death camp. We lost too many, and people are mournin'. And those who aren't… they're surrounded by this." She gestures at the tavern in general.
"I don't understand…"
Solona takes over. Sera can't make her see, can't speak in the way Inky needs. She knows it, knows the two of them can't always communicate. She supposes it makes sense she'd have a hard time making a Dalish see her point – they don't have taverns. Do they?
"It's not that mourning is bad, necessarily, it's just that it's all anyone's doing. You have a tavern-full of people drinking alone, Zanneth. Taverns are for jovial get-togethers, for getting drunk and ridiculous. No one's getting ridiculous. The mood in Skyhold is somber. Sera's aim is to raise the mood around the castle. People can still mourn, but… we need to have some fun, too."
Zanneth stares into her drink for a moment before her dark eyes lift to Sera. "With dirty mop water?"
"Oy! 'M only one person! I do wha' I can! If I had more…" She grins. "Imagine what we could do?! Th' three of us!"
"A whole hell of a lot better than a bucket and water," Solona says, nodding. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well… since you're here, and you have magic…"
She hunkers down, getting quiet while she spins her plans.
The next morning finds Sera barricaded behind a snow wall at the base of the steps leading up to the keep. Normally, the grounds of Skyhold are free of snow, even when snow is actively falling. But Solona had worked some magic, and now the entire upper courtyard outside the keep is covered in a thick blanket of the fine, powdery stuff. It's perfect for snowballs.
Zanneth and Solona are barricaded with her, Zanneth somewhat bemused, though she builds snowballs without much complaint. They've built themselves quite the little snow fort. Time will beat it down, of course, but the point is to eventually be covered in snow. It's a frigging snowball fight, after all.
The first boot that leaves the keep is, thankfully, Revka's. She's a lot more fun than her husband. "Lady Revka!" Sera yells, then tosses her snowball. It hits the pregnant woman in the foot. Another flies, this one hitting her right in the face. Sera glances over to see Solona standing tall, grinning like an idiot. She would hit her pregnant sister in the face with a snowball.
It takes Revka a moment to recover, but then her voice raises over the grounds. "What's this then?"
"Why don't ya come over'n find out!" Sera yells, packing another snowball together. "Or are ya going to head back in like a sissy fancy-pants who can't get a little snow on her?"
Recka smirks. Her steps have taken her halfway down the stairs. A dangerous direction if she doesn't want to get hit again. "How about I join you and help you get Cullen good?"
Sera stares for a moment before a grin overtakes her face. "Yeah!" she yells. Another snowball flies. Solona stands unrepentant, still grinning.
"Why you…" Revka kneels, making her own snowball. It is small, but her aim is true. Solona attempts to dodge, but Zanneth of all people sticks out a foot, stumbling her, allowing Revka's snowball to hit her. Apparently the elfy elf does have a sense of humor. Should make sure she's laid regular-like if I want to cause any mayhem…
It is suddenly war. Snowballs are hurtled in all directions, all four of them their own agent. It is good to see a smile on the normally-somber Zanneth's face, and to hear her laughter lift on the mountain air. It's something Sera hasn't heard much, unless you count the times she's listened in on her and the Seeker gettin' busy. Just the thought flushes her face. Zanneth isn't her type, but Cassandra sure is – as long as her mouth is kept shut. Too broody, that one, but the tall and the muscles? Yum.
Over time, they are joined by Bull, Kremy, and even Josephine. Cullen is hit in the face with a snowball, but stomps away, a pout on his face at having his wife against him. Leliana peeks out over the balcony outside the rookery, but doesn't join them. Considering she's deaf, Sera can't blame her. It is enough to know she has noticed, and that Solona sees her, waves, and goes back to the mayhem.
Soldiers join in, mages, templars, workmen, and every single child on the grounds. No one is off-limits, and almost everyone who is hit joins, as the damn Inquisitor is throwing the snowballs. But then Cassandra is standing atop the steps.
Sera doesn't notice at first, but her loud and sharp, "What is the meaning of this?!" rings out, silencing everyone. A snowball sails through the air. Sera watches it glide smoothly toward the keep. Cassandra easily side-steps it, but her face is aghast. Glancing back, Sera sees that it is Zanneth, the Seeker's own lover, who threw the projectile. She stifles a laugh. This should be fun.
Zanneth merely stands, a smile on her face, another snowball in her hand. Cassandra frowns. But the Inquisitor is impervious to the power of the Seeker's glower, and with a twinkle of mischief, she throws the second snowball.
Sera exchanges a look with Solona. Simultaneously, they bend, gathering material for their own projectile. A few around her do, as well, including Josephine and Revka. And then, as one, several balls sail through the air.
Solona's is the one that hits the Seeker. Sera lets out a mad cackle of laughter as Cassandra attempts to continue looking dignified.
"She's going to kill ya, Solona," Sera manages between gasps for air.
"Like Cassandra scares me," Solona replies, grinning and throwing another one.
Looking up, Sera sees Cassandra is running. Her heart skips, but it is not in Sera's direction the Seeker runs. The Herald lets out a yell, taking off across the courtyard, lighter and faster on her feet than Cassandra. They disappear down some stairs, off in the direction of another courtyard that is not covered in snow. Sera smiles. They really are matched well. Who else could get Cassandra to run after them with such a warm smile on her face instead of murder? It would absolutely be murder if the Seeker were to be chasing after Sera.
A snowball hits the back of Sera's head. She turns, wiping the resulting spray of snowflakes out of her eyes, to find Revka and Solona both grinning. Giggling, Sera gathers up the snow at her feet, letting loose toward Bull and Krem in the distance, who've built themselves fortification since joining an hour before. The Herald and the Seeker can bugger off to wherever they want. Sera has a frigging snowball fight to win!