A/N: Gene Dark has done it again. She has, on several occasions, planted bugs in my muse's ear regarding Lhiannon Amell Mac Tir's backstory; Gene is a curious gal who wants to know more about Lhiannon.
So, Gene, this dedicated to you. :)
The one-shot was born from a small tale told in chapter 28 of "Retribution", called "Last Minute Details." In that chapter, Anders wants Lhiannon to dance with him on the eve of her wedding to Loghain and she's not so sure that's a great idea. She and Anders then tell Loghain of Anders' first attempt to teach Lhiannon to dance. The full story of that event is told here. I've based some of the Summerday lore on the pagan celebration of Beltane.
A/N: part two: I have changed this to a one-shot rather than a compilation of stories, so if this seems familiar, I apologize. There were reasons for me to change this but I won't go into them here. Just know that any likeness to another story was a complete coincidence; I feel absolutely awful about any questions raised and for that, you have my sincerest apologies.
"Come on, Lhi! We're going to be late!"
Lhiannon sat on a small chair in the room she shared with three other young teenage girls, her feet propped up on her small storage chest and a book detailing the process of casting creation spells in her lap. She looked up to see Anders standing in the doorway to her room, dressed in a long green robe with gold threads hand stitched into patterns of thistles and ferns. His long hair was pulled back and secured into a low tail with a dark green ribbon. A small wreath of flowers decorated his neck and he held a second one in his hand. Coming to Lhiannon's side, he plucked the book out of her hands and looked at the title, rolling his eyes and scoffing loudly before tossing the book on her bed.
"You can study 'The Efficiency of Healing Spells Within the Creation Tree' later. Right now, we have a Summerday celebration to attend."
In Lhiannon's brief time at Kinloch Hold, the senior enchanters discovered her magical talents lay in the primal school of magic. Her progress in learning primal spells had advanced at a rate they had rarely seen in the apprentices. Though she had only been in the Circle for a few months, she was rapidly progressing through the primal school of magic. The spell the mages called Winter's Grasp had come especially fast; the senior enchanters speculated it was because that was the spell Lhiannon had inadvertently cast when her powers manifested and she froze her father solid.
Conversely, where her grasp of primal spells was a source of great excitement and pride for both Lhiannon and the senior enchanters charged with her education, they found her aptitude with healing spells was not as proficient. Lhiannon understood the concepts of basic healing and could easily explain the mechanics of the spells, but when it came time to cast the spells, they simply fizzled. After more testing and speculation, the senior enchanters felt that Lhiannon may simply be a mage who would always struggle with creation spells or be unable to cast them at all. The proclamation that her healing spells would likely be substandard drove Lhiannon to studying them even harder; she would not let the senior enchanters tell her she could not do them. Their proclamation was an incentive to study harder and with that, she had borrowed the book from the Circle's extensive library to study in her own time.
"Andy," Lhiannon said, plucking the book off the bed to find the page she had been reading, "I have to study. You know I'm having difficulty with creation and healing magic."
"And I told you that I would help you because my healing abilities are almost as advanced as Enchanter Wynne's," Anders replied, rolling his eyes and plucking the book out of her hands once more. "Just not tonight. We have a party to attend."
With an exasperated sigh, Lhiannon scoffed and rolled her eyes at Anders in the universal gesture of teenage angst. "What kind of party is this? Summer days?"
Moving to Lhiannon's storage chest, Anders lifted her feet off the top and began to rifle through it, mumbling to himself as he did so. "Summerday. You need something green, Lhi." He began pulling neatly folded robes out of the chest, tossing them onto Lhiannon's bed as she began to protest.
"Hey! I had those all neatly folded!"
"Don't you have anything green? Oh, wait…here's something that's mostly brown but it does have green…well, beggars can't be choosers, I suppose." Anders turned to look at Lhiannon with a wink. "Seriously, Lhi, you need more robes."
"I need more robes like I need a hole in my head."
Rising from her chair with a scoff, Lhiannon began to refold her robes and put them back into the chest as Anders held up the robe he picked, shaking it out and scrutinizing it closely. "This will have to do. Come on, Lhi. Get changed or we'll be late!"
"You never told me what this celebration is all about."
Anders scoffed, rolling his eyes once more. "You've never heard about Summerday?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, Lhiannon snorted. "No. My village never celebrated such things. They said such celebrations were reminders of magister domination and therefore sins against the Maker and Andraste. We only celebrated the birth of Andraste and those 'celebrations' consisted of Chantry services from sunrise to sunset."
"Then you, unfortunately, have missed out on something grand." Anders tossed Lhiannon her brown and green robe, standing in the doorway to her room with his back to her so that she could change robes. Though nudity was a common occurrence in the Circle, Anders knew Lhiannon was still somewhat uncomfortable with it and gave her the privacy he knew she still needed. He turned his head to speak to her over his shoulder, keeping his eyes averted from her attractive form. He could see her shadow on the wall, pulling the robe she wore over her head and tossing it onto her bed.
"Summerday is the festival between Cloudreach and Bloomingtide signaling the end of the winter months and heralding the arrival of the planting season. Flowers are blooming and the soil is ready for planting." Anders paused for a moment; Lhiannon's shadow poked its head through her robe. He turned and faced her as she smoothed the fabric of her robe; it was a little long for her, but nothing that a pair of boots with a low heel could not remedy. Lhiannon met his gaze with hers and saw him wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Fertility is celebrated through dancing and feasting, both fertility of the land and fertility between men and women."
Snickering lightly, Lhiannon brought her hands to her mouth to smother her giggles. "You mean…sex?"
Anders snickered with her. Lhiannon, he knew, had a sheltered upbringing and the first few times anything sexual was mentioned in her presence, her cheeks turned a flaming red and her mouth dropped open in astonishment. It had been a charming, if comical, sight. Since then, Anders explained the concept to her knowing that soon enough, she would witness it first hand and he did not want her shocked by the sight. Mages often participated in quick dalliances and both Anders and Lhiannon were fast approaching the age where such dalliances would be a common sight among their peers. While Anders himself had experimented with such dalliances a handful of times—and felt his urges growing—Lhiannon's sheltered upbringing left her ignorant of such things. Anders thought it best that she learned such things from a trusted friend rather than a mage she barely knew; she could be easily taken advantage of by less scrupulous mages and Anders vowed to not let that happen to his new friend.
"Anyway, the templars aren't crazy about the celebration but let the mages have it. Of course, all the templars will be overseeing the event to make sure we mages don't get out of hand."
"Maker forbid," Lhiannon sneered. She reached over to the nightstand next to her bed and began to brush her hair, mussed from changing her robes. Anders came to stand behind her, taking the brush from her hand and running it through the long, dark strands.
He spoke as he ran the brush through Lhiannon's hair. "The templars and priests think the Veil is thin right now and that the thinness allows mages to tap into more power." Lhiannon heard Anders' voice become filled with mocking, self-righteous smugness. "The Chantry must be more vigilant at this time so that the mages do not attempt to take advantage of such power."
"I wonder if that has something to do with why the templars in my village were always more vigilant during this time of year? They fear us."
Anders handed the brush back to Lhiannon, taking strands from the sides of her face and pulling them back behind her head, his fingers deft as he braided the strands together. "I'm not sure if it's us or our power. Maybe both." He finished braiding the locks and secured them with a small ribbon Lhiannon held out for him. Turning her to face him, Anders reached for the extra strand of flowers on her bed, draping them gently over her neck.
"There, all set. Are you ready to dance into the night?"
Lhiannon looked down and away from Anders, her cheeks staining red. "I don't know how."
"You've never danced? Ever?"
With a slow shake of her head, Lhiannon snorted lightly. "No. I was sheltered. I'm kind of afraid to."
"Oh, Lhi," Anders said, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Dancing is great fun."
"I don't know, Andy…"
"Come on, Lhi. It will be fun. I promise."
Lhiannon looked up into Anders' face, watching as a grin pulled on his lips. He brought his folded hands up under his chin, blinking rapidly at her. He was pulling his mabari pup eyes look; Lhiannon knew she could not say no to that. She swatted playfully at his arms.
"You're such a brat! Well, I suppose…" she said, the reluctance clear in her voice. Anders paid no attention, taking her by the hands and pulling her into the center part of the room where they had more space to move. His smile was infectious and she could not help smiling along with him.
"All right. The dancing out there will be a bit on the saucy side, so I'll teach you something basic and saucy…"
Lhiannon held up a hand, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Shouldn't I put some boots on? And define saucy."
"We'll get your boots later," Anders said, forgetting that Lhiannon's robe was just a bit too long. He pulled her close, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and clasping the other one in his own, holding it up and out from their bodies a bit. "All right, this dance involves a few quick hopping steps to the side before I turn you about…"
Anders began to move, his steps quick and light as he led Lhiannon through the center of the room, her head looking down at their feet as they moved. He swiftly twirled to the side after several hopping steps. As he turned she stumbled forward, crashing into him and nearly sending them both to the floor in an ungraceful heap. Anders scoffed as he steadied them, wagging a finger at Lhiannon in mock admonishment.
"Pay attention Lhi. Stop looking at your feet and move with me."
"How am I supposed to move if I can't see my feet?"
"Follow my lead, Lhi. Trust your feet."
Counting aloud, Anders began to move Lhiannon in the dance again, stepping and hopping and twirling for several cycles. Anders praised Lhi as they danced, her steps still halting but becoming more confident. As they were entering a twirling turn on their fourth pass through the room, Lhiannon suddenly caught her foot in the hem of her dress, sprawling her forward onto the floor face first. They both heard a sickening crunch a split second before Lhiannon's hands flew to her face, her cries of pain muffled by her hands. As Anders knelt in front of her, he saw the blood began to seep through her fingers to trickle down her skin. She writhed on the floor in obvious pain, tears running down her face.
"Holy shit, Lhi. Let me see…" Anders gently pulled one of Lhiannon's hands away from her face, seeing her nose misshapen and cocked to one side as blood poured from both nostrils.
"It's broken, Maker damn it!"
Quashing the guilt Anders felt rising within him, he moved his hand toward her face, two fingers gently hovering just above Lhiannon's shattered nose. He began to whisper the words to a healing spell, thankful that his talents were in the creation tree of spells. As he watched, the blue glow of healing spread onto Lhiannon's face and her nose began to move beneath his fingers, the bones settling into their normal position as they knit together. Anders ran a gentle finger down her nose to directly confer more magic directly to the area. The blood stopped flowing and the skin returned to a semblance of its normal color. Lhiannon opened her tearful eyes, looking upon Anders with a sense of astonishment. Both began talking at once.
"Lhi, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"
"Anders, it's not your fault. I…"
They stopped speaking in midsentence, small laughs coming from each of them. Anders reached over to Lhiannon's chest, pulling an extra pillowcase from within and dampening it from the small carafe of water that stood on her night table. Moving to sit in front of her, Anders dabbed the blood off Lhiannon's skin as she took tentative breaths through her nose. When he finished, she brought a hand up to her face, tentatively touching her nose with two fingers. It was still tender to the touch but completely healed. She looked at Anders for a moment in astonishment before a wry grin crossed her features. Turning her head toward her bed, Lhiannon picked up the book she had been reading before Anders arrived—The Efficiency of Healing Spells Within the Creation Tree—and handed it to him. A puzzled look crossed Anders features.
"What's this for?"
Lhiannon snorted—thankful that no pain accompanied the snort through her nose—and grinned at her friend. "Apparently, I have two left feet. You'd better study more if you insist on teaching me to dance again."
