Sera looks confused.

Which is really saying something, because usually she is the one causing said confusion, not being confused by it. Apparently, whatever she's looking at really has her going though, worked up so much that her silence has Varric and Cassandra concerned.

By unpopular vote, I am sent to investigate.

"Enjoying your Satinalia, Sera?" I ask, sitting down on a log near her. She glances up, shrugs, then tents her fingers and refocuses her attention across the fire, around revelers and tables of food.

The Satinalia feast Fairbanks had promised the Inquisition and his followers alike is in full swing, fires roaring as nugs roast on spits, breads and cheeses passed around. Despite their modest circumstances, he determined that the refugees in the Emerald Graves needed some merriment after their blessed move into Argon's Lodge. Seeing as my companions and I were responsible for cleaning the Lodge of deluded Free Men, it was only natural he invite us to attend.

The celebration lacked the elaborate masks of Antiva and Orlais, the hearty food of Ferelden, and the abundant gifts given in bustling hubs, but that phased no one. There was still revelry, dancing, improvised music from a group I cannot find; alongside the friends, the family, the laughter and joy, all springing up towards the second moon of Satina in the cool fall air.

A concern had come from someone in my party - Maker help me if I can remember who - that maybe we should be at Skyhold for such an occasion. There was a certain sadness that came from being separated from 'home' today, certainly. So far, there had been no shaking it, only temporary separation as we drifted in and out of the crowd.

My companions each found their own place in the bustle. Varric and Cass lingered around the pit with the most people, the dwarf telling stories and the Seeker slyly correcting him, whether or not she had been present in the tale. An odd partnership, but they somehow worked together fluidly, their words capturing their audience with every syllable, and the smiles they shared privately captured a hope for their friendship. Sera had been hitting on one of the maids for most of the night, but soon wandered off when something else catching her attention. The only two I hadn't seen all evening were The Iron Bull and Solas.

Tilting my gaze over the fire, I see Sera has found them.

"They don't got a board." She finally mutters.

"What?"

"I think they're playin' chess, only they don't have no board. Or pieces. Or anything." Again, Sera's nose wrinkles up, her eyes squinting, and she pulls a 'confused' face. "Listen."

"Tower to G1." Solas says, his gaze never wavering from the scroll in front of him. He looks disinterested as Bull laughs and considers his next move.

A serving girl walks past, catching Iron Bull's attention. "Pawn takes your tamassran - or mage, whatever it is."

"I get the idea. If you're not so focused on other pursuits, pawn to H4."

"Arishok to G6." Bull replies without missing a beat.

Solas smirks at his papers. "Pawn to H5. Careful."

Bull shakes his eyes away from the server, a retort forming on his lips. I turn back to Sera, her point having been made.

"Definitely chess," I assure her, catching a mug off a passing tray and examining the wine inside. "Used to do that with Caible all the time."

Sera remains focused on the men. "How?"

"You picture the board in your head. Caible would color code his so he didn't get confused; different methods, though."

There were days when Caible and I would park ourselves on a warehouse roof for hours, waiting for Father to return from a meeting, or for Serina to show herself. To pass the time, we would play chess, not so rushed as Bull and Solas, but more languid, taking time to mull over our moves and consider every tactic or method before mentally moving a pawn even an inch. Those days before everything changed were quiet. Very, very quiet.

Come to think of it, Satinalia back then had been quiet, too. Still full of the expected revelry, sure, but more...subdued. We watched, rather than participated; gazing with wide eyes upon the fall stars and the brightly colored masks dancing beneath them. My heart tugs, now torn between here, there, and Skyhold, unsure where I should be.

Instead of lingering on the thought, I take Solas and Bull's game as an opportunity to lay a mental board out in front of me and play along as best I can.

"But they don't have a board. Or pieces." Sera looks over at me. "Or anything."

"So I see."

Sera huffs, snatching my mug to take a deep drink, obviously not satisfied with any light I may have shined on the situation. We both return to the game, my mouth forming into an 'O' when I finally see where Solas is going with this, the clever bastard: King's Gambit.

"King to E2." The elf says, having looked up from his papers to catch my gaze over the fire. When I grin, he presses a finger to his lips.

The exchange goes unnoticed by Bull. "Alright... King takes tower; your last tower, by the way."

"Pawn to E5." I speak up over the fire, anticipating Solas' next move. Bull looks up, surprised, but Solas nods and allows my suggestion to stand.

"Really?" Bull asks first me, then Solas. "I've got my whole army bearing down on your king, and you're letting her move a pawn? Are you even trying anymore?"

"Think about it, my friend." Solas says, gesturing to me. "Our Inquisitor obviously has."

"Let's finish this." Bull grumbles. "Two-on-one. Ben-Hassrath to A6."
"Knight takes pawn at G7."

"Check." I interject.

Bull frowns at me. "Mhm. King to D8."

"Queen to F6. Check." Solas says, and I giggle.

Bull sighs. "And now my Ben-Hassrath takes your queen. You've got no towers. You're down to a single mage. Too bad you let Hollyn move that pawn to...to..." The qunari's face falls. "You sneaky son-of-a-bitch."

Solas smiles at me. "Mage to E7."

"Checkmate." I laugh, shaking my head.

"Damn it." Bull growls, rubbing his eyes. He reaches for his drink, taking a long swig. "Nice game...mage."

"And you..." Solas nods, rolling up his scroll and standing. "Tal-Vashoth."

"Uh..." Sera blinks between the three of us. "King me!"

I can't breathe for a long while, laughter stealing any air from my lungs. Bull springs up, slapping me on the back, bent clean over with mirth that even Solas isn't immune to. Sera isn't amused, and sets off indignantly, heading towards her earlier maid prospect.

"Hollyn!"

I've barely calmed down before Cassandra is at my side, taking my hand, pulling me up and away from the fire. Argon's Lodge spins slightly, tilting due to my light head, but Cass is persistent, pulling me towards the largest fire, built high now with thick logs and stumps. Dancers surround the fire in a circle, hands linked, waiting for the music to start. Cass attempts to attach me to the circle, but I pull her in just as the first notes start.

And then the world spins from our dancing; the movement of our feet as we flit left, then laugh right, twirling under arms. Heat from the fire warms our cheeks, turning aven Cassandra's red as she relaxes. When we pass Iron Bull, I grab him, yanking the qunari into the circle. Through several curses, and rotations, and crushed toes, Varric and Sera join us too. I laugh, brushing a wild lock of hair from my face as the music soars.

The mirth is a drug, sending us higher than anything stuffed into a pipe or strained into a vial. It's addictive; this laughter, the heat from the fire, the grip of first small hands, then larger ones as we twist, and spin, and twirl. Maker, we are relieved, enjoying our bit of home here, rather than missing a grander celebration that is surely carrying through Skyhold.

We discover that maybe it doesn't matter where we are, because this, this right here -

Bull hoists me onto his shoulder as the music ends, but the cheers continue to carry on, well into the night.

- this is what matters.


A/N:*does a fluffy cheese dance*

Anyway, this was fun to write. I think holidays are kind of my thing at this point. Also, the banter was too damn funny for me to not give it its own chapter.

Time to start a countdown: 2 chapters until...