Snow fell on Skyhold, turning the austere keep into a beautiful sculpture. The falling snow seemed to lighten everyone's mood- there was a peacefulness embodied by the snow that soothed even the sternest heart.
"Andraste's ass!" Varric yelped, as Sera managed to put a handful of snow down the back of his coat. Tearing off after the elf, Varric abruptly skidded to a halt and ran the other way. Emerging from behind the tavern, Iron Bull carried Scout Harding on his shoulders. The two of them had rigged up a sort of slingshot, springy cord tied around Bull's horns.
Screeching as a snowball hit her square in the stomach, Sera dashed across the courtyard, intent on finding a vantage point from which to ambush the dwarf and qunari.
Laughing uproariously, Bull charged down the path, Harding attempting to aim despite the jostling. Varric dodged as the next snowy missile went wide, dropping down to scoop up some snow as he ran. Turning, Varric noticed Bull and Harding had both gone stock still.
On the steps up to the great hall, Cassandra wiped snow from her face, blinking as water ran into her eyes. Silence reigned over the courtyard, before another snowball hit the Seeker in the shoulder.
"Oh. Shit." Bull remarked.
"You can say that again." Harding agreed, watching as Cassandra's eyes sought the culprit.
Whistling innocently, Varric wiggled his fingers at the Seeker in greeting. Wiping her smeared eye makeup, Cassandra glared at the dwarf. Varric enjoyed a split second of terror, wondering if he'd overstepped, before a snowball hit him square in the face.
Sputtering, he looked up the stairs at Cassandra, who smiled evilly, wiping damp hands on her coat.
"You realize Seeker, that this means war!" Varric called.
A snowball flew past him and smacked Iron Bull in the chest. The battle was on.
—
When the snowball war had ended in a tentative truce, the combatants had returned to their respective rooms, cold and damp but with rosy red cheeks, and each feeling a little lighter.
Stripping out of her wet clothes, Cassandra draped them over the railing with a sigh. At least the forge was almost always warm. Stretching, she turned to smile at Varric, climbing the stairs with a tray.
"Varric. Are those cookies?" she asked, one eyebrow raised and a smile breaking across her face.
"And some cocoa, courtesy of Iron Bull. He even threw in some of those guimauves he hoards." Varric jerked his head towards the small cot which had replaced her bedroll, glad to see she'd at least piled the bed with blankets and thick furs.
Gently depositing the tray of treats on the little bedside table, Varric peeled back the sheets and ushered Cassandra in, handing her both steaming mugs before climbing in, himself. Comfortably arranged with Cassandra pressed up against his side, swathed in blankets, Varric picked up a book from the pile on the bedside table and began to read.
Outside, the snow still fell softly, and the sky darkened. Planting a kiss against the Seeker's temple, Varric couldn't help but feel at peace.