Dragon Age; Hawke's Satinalia-Part 1.
Zoë Hawke peered around the room. The smell of stale urine and strong ale filled the Hanged Man in a limbo of dusty mist but Hawke had become accustomed to it. The holiday decorations of elfroot and spindleweed wreathes, fake imported candles and brightly trimmed trees gave her high hopes for the coming holiday; Satinalia. The holiday was traditionally designated to celebrate the second moon, Satina, but mostly to celebrate the ending of Winter and hope for a good harvest in the days to come. Mainly they celebrated it at the beginning of the eleventh month. Varric shook Hawke's arm and she turned to see him sat to her right in a cracked, old chair.
"So?" Varric asked with his eyebrows high.
"Well, with Carver being… gone," she sighed closing her eyes at the thought of her little brother, "Mother has planned a small gathering. Gamlen will be there-"
"Better provide alcohol then, Hawke" Varric laughed and Hawke smiled.
"-and we've asked permission to have Bethany released from the Circle for a few days but she's only really allowed if a guard is with her" Hawke frowned with whimsy. She took a long sip of ale from the dirty mug in her pale hands.
"Well, what if you invite that Macha and her Templar brother, we did, after all, save him" Varric suggested taking a swig of ale.
"No, he might yet be possessed, remember. They won't allow it; then again, neither would mother!"
"How about Thrask? We could use his daughter as leverage" Varric said.
"Varric… No, she's dead. I'm not going to smear her name whilst her ashes are still warm," Hawk rejected, "But that Cullen does seem to have a soft spot for me"
"Soft spot?!" Varric laughed, "He's close to chucking you into the Gallows!"
"Well," Hawke laughed cheerily feeling slightly abuzz, "I've come to know some cold hearted Templars; namely Knight-Commander Meredith; and I've come to know a nice one from one on the verge of ripping my heart out like Fenris can; again, namely Knight-Commander Meredith"
"Well…?" he smiled raising an eyebrow and spreading his arms out slightly.
"Well, what?"
"Am I invited? Because…" he grinned cunningly, "since Bartrand died I've been pretty-"
"All right! No need to guilt me into it, just- don't tell the others!" Hawke giggled to herself.
"Tell us what?" said Isabela sitting beside Hawke and tilting her head, "Your plans for the holidays? Tut-tut! Trying to avoid inviting me?"
"Well, no! I-"
"I'm in!" she chimed abruptly finishing the ale in Hawke's cup and leaving nothing but filthy dregs. Hawke sighed.
"We're going to need a tree!" Varric claimed in delight.
"A big one, too!" Isabela added.
"What is your obsession with 'big things'?" Hawke sighed.
"Oh, and I suppose size doesn't matter then?" Isabela smiled.
"Well… it has to be reasonable" Hawke giggled. They laughed drunkenly and discussed the up-coming event like Orlesian nobles for the rest of the evening before getting besotted and going home in a drunken stupor.