"And that's why.. Why you don't sit your ass down and accept the way things are." Eola slurs, her voice insistent. " 'Cause if not for me, Argath would have been stew. Literally. Stew."

"By Akara, Eola, maybe you ought to go sleep off the drink." Toomy says as he pulls her mug away from her.

"I paid for that, you shady bitch." Eola hisses at him playfully, before giggling.

Varric chuckles, understanding the gist of what was being said. "Easy, Vexie. Don't want… sick."

"No, Varric I got this. I do. Here, watch this!" Eola exclaims as she pulls herself up from the bar stool. She stumbles, but manages to correct her balance. She unsteadily makes her way to the table in the middle of the hall. Then she climbs up on it, kicking a pitcher of water out of her way.

Myfa looks up from her throne and blinks at Eola. The red haired dokkalfar takes on an amused expression, placing her cup down. "Indulge us with a song, Scion?"

"Whaat? No way, I'm horrible at singing." She protests.

"Do it!" Zefwyn calls from where he is observing on the second floor.

"Shut it, Zef! No one asked for your opinion!" Tielore shoots back as him.

"But you must, Scion Eola." Sunhilda intones, her voice gleeful. "Our Lady has instructed it of you."

Eola levels a 'Are you serious?" look at the ljosalfar before glancing at Myfa, who only smirks. She slumps her shoulders. 'Fiine." She takes half a swaggering step on the table before stumbling. Once Eola steadies herself, she begins singing at a mumble.

"Louder, Eola!" Zefwyn shouts with a wicked grin.

She whirls and points at him. "Fuck you. I can sing, watch me go."

One day in bright cradled spring, stepped forth

She who wroughts change, daughter of autumn kin

To the General damned cruelly by Fate

To never succeed, to never win

To the General spoke she;

"Allow me to take up your task,

Fates' bind no longer holds me

I shall change your destiny."

With disbelieve she was answered,

"Ten years of bitter searching," the General sighed

"If you so wish it then to the windstones go

Chime them and we shall see if it is so."

And so she went, Windstone calling

Against all odds, they went a-chiming

The silence gone, windstones singing

The ancient doors, once sealed, opening

To the general she returned, gleefully smiling

"The hour of your quest is close at hand,

Fret not of destiny, I am free of its' strings

So long as I am here Fate is no king."

As she finishes, Eola kicks a silver bowl off the table. "See that, bitch? Nailed it!"

"She seems much more dignified in song than in reality." Sunhilda observes offhandedly to Myfa.

Myfa hums, choosing to refrain from replying. Instead she looks at the rather inebriated dokkalfar and muffles a laugh. "I believe it is time for bed, dear. You have… garbage disposal tomorrow. Zefwyn, if you would?"

Said male swings himself off the second floor landing and soundlessly lands on the floor below. "Hey, Eola, you heard what Lady Myfa said. It's beddy bye time."

"UgghHGGGh." Eola groans, jumping on the middle of the wooden dining table. "This is all Toomy's fault."

"Wait, what?" The bartender questions, pointing at himself confusedly.

Eola crosses her arms and nods knowingly. "He was sell-hic-ing it. Only logical."

Toomy shakes his head. "Yeah, but you bought it. Obviously, that would make it your own damn fault, missy."

She jumps again, frowning at him. "No, just say that I'm right. Too tired to argue."

"You gotta get down and off to bed, Eola. Don't make me go up there to get you." Zefwyn threatens an a somber voice, ruined by the smile forcing its way across his face.

Eola jumps again, turning in mid air to face Zefwyn. Only this time, the table cracks and Eola drops through. She startles and ends up hanging half off the table with one of her feet stuck on the edge of the hole.

The room immediately abrupts into laughter. Varric slams his mug down so hard the entire thing shatters, leaving him with only a handle. This sets Dorian and Mahanon into hysterics, while Solas only covers his mouth with his hand. Despite this, his eyes still shine with amusement.

Zefwyn swoops in and retrieves Eola from the table hole, and drags her back to her room.

NIGHT END

I spent an absurd amount of time making up two ballads for this. And yes, that poem is originally by me. I call this one "Fate is no King." The other one is "The Alfar come Hence."

Like I said I've spent hours making those bloody songs, so if someone wants to use them in an amalur story, ask first yeah?

Anyways, I'm hoping I'll have something by then end of the month to put up, but I have to finish a shit ton of stuff this month rip.

Regardless, always remember: Swooping is Bad.

Have a glorious night, you all. Don't party like Eola does. She's a bad role model.