Disclaimer: I do not own dragon age or the characters. I write about them.

The First Day
by Lady Velvet C. Peterson

Idea: A party at camp for the DAO crew was originally a one-shot work but altered to work in my Rogue’s Band of misfits story.

The First day Annum: At the beginning of the year, this holiday traditionally involves many visits to one’s neighbors and family. This was once to “check” to make sure everyone was alive at least once a year in remote parts and a town gathering to commemorate the year past (often accompanied by much drinking and merriment).

Story

I’ve just woken and head out of my tent for some tea. Leliana is almost giddily happy this morning. I look at her with a questioning expression on my face.
“Don’t tell me you forgot what today is,” she gasps in horror.
I raise my hands and eyebrows in the renowned I don’t know gesture. “Today is the first day!” She gasps, “We need to celebrate.”
I think back, and she is correct. It is the first day of the New Year. How could I have forgotten? “Lel,” I try to reason, “how are we going to celebrate? We are in the middle of nowhere.”

“You just let me take care of that,” she says. “I stocked up at the last village. I also had Bodhan grab some extra supplies for this.”

“Do you want me to help?” I ask. I noticed the others have already split, not wanting to be roped in except for Alistair and Adela, who are grinning manically. The rest of the guys are sparring already, Morrigan is over at her fire, and Shale is watching Sten spar. Wynne has her nose in the latest romance by Varric Tethras.

She thinks for a minute and then gets a cunning look in her eye. “No, Elly, I think I have enough help. Go relax,” she says, grabbing a bottle of wine from her pack and pushing it into my arms.

“It’s not even lunchtime yet,” I protest.

“It’s sunset somewhere,” she teases, waving me off.

Running to my tent to grab my money pouch, I set off to see Bodhan. I also collect my knitting needles and some soft wool yarn, dyed a deliciously bright purple from deathroot. There should be enough time to knit a simple scarf.

I buy trinkets for the other companions and set off to the lake to knit in peace. I’ve just opened the wine and started casting on the scarf when Zev walks up carrying some clothes and his bathing items. Zevran has more potions and oils than I do.

“Mind if I bathe,” He glances over at me teasingly.

“Do as you wish. I’ve enough to keep me busy.”

He chuckles and crouches down to see what I’m doing. “Warden, I’m speechless,” He says, feigning surprise. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a knitter.”

I shake my head, never taking my gaze off my work, “It’s better than needlepoint. I don’t have the patience for that fiddly stuff.”

“So, Dear Warden,” He says in his lovely accent, drawing out the dear in the way I like, “What are you knitting?”

I stop and glance over at him, smiling, “Leliana is working hard to throw a celebration today. I wanted to give her a special gift, and the color suits her, don’t you think?”

“A thoughtful gesture. I hope I don’t distract you too much from your project,” Zevran teases, “It would be a pity to drop a stitch.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I reply, looking up while starting the next row. “I think I can make sure you don’t drown yourself and keep my place.”

“If I decide to drown today, it is comforting to know a most beauteous goddess will save me.”

I shake my head with a chuckle as he walks away to strip down to his cotton pants and set up his bathing supplies on a rock before jumping in the water. I have to admit the view is pleasant. The open simple lace pattern I chose is coming along beautifully. I check the length and the amount of yarn I have left and take a swig of the wine. There will be enough yarn.

“You should join me, Warden.” Zev calls out, “The water is delightful.”

I have another sip of wine, looking up from the knitting, “It’s quite okay, Zev, you just enjoy, and I’ll take in the view.”

“As you wish, Warden,” He laughs.

A few minutes later, he climbs out of the water and starts his long skincare process within the protection of the trees. I admit to trying to steal a few glances at the handsome elf, now and then trying to be as innocent as I can. By the time he emerges half-dressed as he has left his tunic off. That is a bit distracting. I am a little over the halfway point with the scarf. Zevran collects his bathing items and comes to sit next to me. He smells of allspice, patchouli, and sandalwood with a touch of tangerine. Shaking the distracting thoughts from my head, I take another gulp of wine.

“Can I see?” He asks, gesturing to the scarf. I nod, finishing the row I’m working on, and hand him the scarf. “It’s so soft,” he says with wonder, “How did you find wool so soft?”

“My mother had some special sheep,” I reply, trying not to think of her death at Howe’s hands.

“And the pattern is perfect.” He glances over at the wine. “May I?”

“Of course,” I reply, grinning, as I know damn well he wanted the wine from the moment I opened it.

He looks at the much smaller ball of yarn with a worried expression, “Are you sure it will be enough?”
“It will,” I answer.
He watches me knit for some time, and we sit in companionable silence. “You know knitting would be great dexterity exercise for the fingers,” He notes.

I grin at him, stopping for a moment to take another sip of wine and hand the bottle to him. “Are you asking to learn, Zev?” I ask, looking back down at the knitting and continue.

“I might be.”

I stop again, setting the knitting in my lap, and look over at him. “If you wish to learn, I would gladly teach you Zev.” He is interested, but knitting, at least for home use, is traditional women’s work. “I know it’s not considered manly, but the knitter in our family was my father. Mother bought the sheep for his birthday.”
Zev looks astonished at this revelation, “Well, not today,” he says, “but definitely another day. I would like to learn. For now, I will be happy to watch you, querida.” He moves closer to watch.

Why is he so interested? I attempt to concentrate on the project at hand. And although he’s not overtly a diversion, his closeness and scent are distractions at this point. After a few more rows, I stop again to check the length of the scarf. It’s almost done. I check the length and the now little ball of yarn. Zev hands me the bottle, and I drink.

“Something about watching you knit,” he says dreamily, “is mesmerizing.” “Oh, How so?” I ask, finishing the next row.
“Your fingers are so graceful; they just dance,” He tries to explain, “It is riveting, and they know what to do, How your index finger just barely touches the tip of the needle after you wrap the yarn around it. You pull the loops through another loop. It’s almost fascinating. Almost like when I see you sparring.”

I blush at his words and, checking my yarn. It’s time to cast off. I take another swig of wine before I start the last row, and, finding my voice, I say, “Almost done.”
Zev watches in silence as I finish the last row. I pull in the end to hide it and hold it up, inspecting my work. I wrap it around my neck to make sure it is long enough, and it is perfect. Taking it off my neck, I fold it, but Zev takes my hands, “I want to see it finished,” He says softly, “May I?” I nod at him as he takes it and holds the scarf up to the late afternoon light watching how the light plays with the lace pattern.

“Beautiful, just like you,” He says as he folds the scarf, setting it on my bag of trinkets. I blush again and stare down, “so I’m beautiful, am I?” I murmur, still looking at the ground.

“I say it because it’s true, aside from your physical beauty, which is something to behold,” he says thoughtfully, ” the fact that you would create a gift for someone says a lot about you. You aren’t just giving Leliana your knitting, you’re giving her your time and love, and that is beautiful as well.”

I stare at the ground so hard I think it will create a hole. “Leliana is trying so hard to create this party for us. I wanted to let her know I appreciate it.”

“She will know,” he says, taking his hand and tilting my head up. He kisses me. I am stunned for a minute and do nothing, but then I respond, kissing him back. He pulls back with an almost ferocious look on his face and dives back in with a nearly bruising kiss that I eagerly return. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him in as he runs his hands through my hair. He drops to my neck, kissing it until he gets to my ear.

“I have wanted to do that for some time, Bella,” he whispers. I shudder into him. “Elly, Zev, come on, we are ready to party!” Leliana calls out.

“We will be there in a minute,” Zev answers. I blush guiltily, stepping back as Zev chuckles at the sudden interruption. He reaches over, kisses me again, and turns to get his things. I grab the scarf carefully, putting it on top of the trinkets in the bag, and we head back to camp.

Once back at camp, I stop by my tent to wrap the scarf in parchment paper and place it back in the bag. I head back out. Leliana has gone all out. She decorated the camp with a hanging ribbon-like paper in spring colors, and she must have managed to get our mages to put veilfire lights around the base. She borrowed some tables from Bodhan to set out what I could only call a feast. Leliana went all out on the liquor, with one entire table dedicated to many bottles of wine and jugs of ale. As I walk over to set my bag down by a stump as Adela calls out, “Hey, it’s time to eat!”

We line up buffet style and help ourselves to the fantastic spread. It must have taken Leliana, Adela, and Alistair some time (I assume they watched Alistair closely with cooking). I fill my plate and get some wine, and have a seat. As I eat, I listen to the good-natured banter from the others. Leliana might have threatened to shiv anyone who started arguing. The thought makes me smile.

Leliana notes my musing and teases, “You were at the lake all day, Elly.”

I blush and set my now empty plate down, “Someone threw a bottle of wine at me and told me to go relax,” I grin cheekily. Realizing that most of the group has finished eating, I grab the bag and hand out my first-day gifts.

For Alistair, a carved stone warrior, He smiles as I hand it to him but protests, “I got nothing for you, Elly.”

“No need,” I say, smiling brightly, ” You did a lot to help today and give the rest of us a sumptuous meal and decorations.”

I gifted Shale a gold nugget; she takes it up to her face to inspect it and says, “shiny!”

For Sten, I found a lovely portrait, as I know he is partial to art. “My thanks, Kadan,” is his response.

Adela is an Orlesian warden, and I realized quickly she loves decadent Orlesian toiletries. She squeals with delight as I hand her an ornate-looking bottle of Orlesian perfume.

I presented Ox blank book of fine parchment and a pen with a matching inkwell. The mage smiles, “Thank you, Elly.”

I had noticed Tamlen’s bowstring was looking worn, so a new string with string wax is what I placed in his hand; he seems a bit surprised and gently hugs me. “Thank you, Falon.”

Leske receives a new dagger. He grins and flips it in his hand, “Much appreciated, Warden.”

For Wynne, I found a copy of Varric Tethras’ latest book, Hard in Hightown. She looks at the book and back at me. “That was very thoughtful,” she said gratefully.

Oghren gets some of the ale I found in Wilhelm’s Cellar. He looks at it and bellows, “this is a fine gift!” I giggle happily at him.

I also found another book by Varric Tethras for Rory. It’s a lesser-known book called Darktown’s Deal, a treaty of the complex situation between Orzammar, the surface dwarves, and the Carta. He likes politics, so I hoped he would like it. He smiles when I pass it to him, and glances at it, and says, “You know me well, thanks, Elly.”

Morrigan gets a silver chain necklace she immediately puts on, “I… thank you.”

Zev receives an engraved gold bar I had collected in my travels; He turns it over in his hands, examining it. “I will treasure it.”

I had a hard time finding something for Cullen, as he has about everything he needs and doesn’t have any hobbies or collections I know of. So I decided on new polishing cloths and a whetstone for his sword. He grins as I hand him the items, “this is just perfect.”

Finally, I come to Leliana; I pull the wrapped scarf out of the bag and hand the package to her. She sets it in her lap and proceeds to unfold the surrounding paper carefully. Pulling out the scarf, she holds it up to the light and gushes, “Maker’s Breathe, Elly, you spent all day making this, didn’t you?”

“She did,” Zev confirms.

“It’s gorgeous and the color amazing,” she raves, wrapping it around her neck, “and so soft… where did you find wool this soft?”

“My mother’s flock,” I explain.

It seems she understands immediately. “I will cherish this gift, thank you,” she says solemnly. With the gift-giving done, I walk back to the drink table and pour another glass of wine.
“I think it’s prime time for some music and dancing,” Leliana calls out with a mischievous expression on her face as she grabs her lute.

She starts with a lively song that had Adela dancing immediately. She grabs Leske, who is protesting because he doesn’t know how to dance. Alistair is trying to persuade Wynne away from her new book to dance, and finally, she concedes and dances with Alistair. I sip my wine, smiling at the scene. The mood is infectious, and even stoic Sten is tapping his feet.

Rory stands by me, and he bows, “Will you waltz with me, Elly?” he asks, offering his hand with a slight proper bow.

I grin at my friend, “I’d be delighted, Rory. I might as well put those dancing lessons mother insisted on to good use,” I answer, taking his offered hand.

Truth be told, I love dancing. Dance movements can be used in fighting as well, depending on the style of dance. My dance teacher was amazing. They taught me all the noble types that were expected but also other lesser-used styles, much to mother’s chagrin.

We dance for a few songs, and Cullen walks over and taps Rory’s shoulder. “May I cut in?” He asks.

“Of course,” I grin wickedly, spinning and putting Rory’s hand in Cullen’s. The men stare at me, shocked, as I step away. Then they shrug their shoulders and decide to dance together, playing along with the joke, as I catch my breath and refill my glass. Zev sidles up to me, “I can see your dance card is full at the moment, dear warden. Would you mind saving a dance for your assassin?” he grins cheekily.

“How can I not dance with my favorite assassin?” I facetiously gasp. “However, I guess I should go save them,” I joke, gesturing to the two men dancing.

Zev snickers as he looks at the two men, “I’ll hold you to that, Elly.” I walk out and tap Rory on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” I deadpan.

Rory pretends to debate for a flash and then chuckles, looking at Cullen, grinning, “Of course.”

As I dance with Cullen, I glance around. Rory is dancing with Wynn, and Alistair is sitting next to Leliana as she plays and sings. Adela is still working with Leske, teaching him to dance. Sten and Ox are sitting away from the dancers, watching and eating cookies, while Morrigan watches the scene with an amused expression on her face. Zev has disappeared for the moment. Shale has also moved away from the party toward the outskirts, keeping watch, I suppose. Then I see Tamlen. He looks a bit lost and is fidgeting. When the song ends, I thank Cullen for the dance and grab some more wine on my way over to sit beside Tamlen.
“Do the Dalish have celebrations with dancing?” I ask curiously, sipping my wine.

He contemplates me. “We do,” He says smiling, “Bonding ceremonies are big celebrations as are births of children; we also have a huge celebration of the Arlathvhen.”

“What is Arlathvhen?” I ask slowly, trying to pronounce the strange word correctly.

He grins at my butchered pronunciation. “It is a gathering of all the clans. Every ten years, all the clans gather and share any knowledge they might have found in their travels. It is a huge celebration lasting a week with feasting, wine, and dancing.”

“Would you like to dance, Tamlen?” I ask hopefully.

He smiles a bit wistfully. “I’m afraid I don’t know your shem dances. They are similar to ours but different. I’m afraid of stepping on your feet.”

“Well then, teach me the Dalish way, and hopefully, I won’t step on your feet too much.”

He smiles and stands up, offering his hand, “shall we then, Falon?”

I set my glass down and stand, walking over to a space with a bit more room. Tamlen teaches me a traditional Dalish dance, and I only step on him once, to my credit. We finally collapse with laughter after four songs.

“You are a quick learner,” he says.
“I like to dance,” I grin at him.
Adela comes and spirits Tamlen away to dance with her, and I sit and sip my wine. I notice Alistair making his way over to me.

“Will you dance with me, Lady Cousland?” He teases, bowing and offering his hand.
“Of course, my Prince,” I retort, returning his joke.
I have to admit, Alistair is an excellent dancer. Leliana must have taught him. As he turns us, I look over his shoulder, “Andraste’s ass,” I whisper to him.

“What?” He whispers back.

“Don’t say anything just, look,” I whisper, turning us so he can see Morrigan is dancing with Cullen.

“Maker’s Breathe,” he exclaims softly upon seeing the apostate mage dancing with a templar. I see Leliana grinning maniacally at the scene. I see Zevran has returned, “I told you so,” He mouths out to me as I chuckle and shake my head.

The song ends, and I am thirsty, so I leave Alistair to return to Leliana as I take my glass and head over the table. Zevran is refilling his glass.

“Leliana could even get Antivan wine,” He notes appreciatively.
“She went all out, didn’t she?”
He nods in agreement, “Would you like to try some?”

I take the glass and take a sip of the wine. It has been made with berries and is sweet, but has an earthly quality, almost like chocolate, and it is smooth, creamy. “I understand why you feel Ferelden drinks swill,” I affirm with surprise.

He grins and fills my glass with the Antivan wine. We stand and enjoy watching the dancers. Tamlen is teaching Adela Dalish dance, and Leske is trying to impress Wynne with his dancing skills. Alistair is at his post beside Leliana. Ox and Sten haven’t moved but have started on the pies. Rory is dancing with Morrigan, and it looks as if Cullen is taking a break and getting a snack.
Oghren is now dancing. Well, if you’d call whatever he was doing, dancing. How drunk is he? Oghren notices Zevran and me and dances his way over to us, staring at me like he wants to say something. “Aye, you there, aye you….” He slurs, looking me over, “I’ve been watching you. Where can I get some sauce for that rump roast?”

Holding back a snicker, I see Zevran, who is grinning from ear to ear as he waits for my response. “Right here, you mad dwarven stallion,” I proclaim cheekily. I can hear Zevran as he turns back to the table, snorting with laughter.

“Go and make yourself ready, woman,” He says, swaying, “I’ll be right there to see to it.” With that, the drunken dwarf falls over and passes out. I can’t hold my laughter any longer, and I join Zevran, who is now holding his stomach. We lean on each other for support. By this time, everyone else is watching the spectacle, and most are laughing or chuckling. Even Sten seems amused. He walks over and picks up the unconscious dwarf, scowling as the Oghren’s notorious odor hits his nostrils and quickly deposits him in his tent.

Once Oghren is safely in his tent, the music resumes. Zev drains his glass and, turning to me as I’m sipping the delicious wine, says, “I think it is time for us to dance, querida.”

I drain my glass as well, “Okay.”

I take his offered hand and move to where the other dancers are. “I must warn you, Warden, that in Antiva, we dance a bit differently than Fereldans do,” He smirks suggestively.

I blush slightly at his provocative demeanor. “Show me then, Zev,” I tease.

He turns me around, pulling my back flush with his chest. The sudden contact made me blush harder as this was like the dancing mother disapproved. Then, taking my left hand in his right, he spins me out and lets my hand go. I know exactly what he is doing. My dance teacher was Antivan, but I didn’t tell Zev that. My embarrassment fades away as I drop into character the way they taught me. I walk toward him, looking into his honey gold eyes, and run my hand from his shoulder down his chest, gracefully rolling my hips as I do so.

He takes my hand and spins me to the right. As he lets go, I do one more spin and bend my knees slightly, posing sensuously in front of him as I move my hands over my head. He dances over to me, grabbing my face with his hands, making me face up in what looks to be an intimate embrace. He looks surprised for a moment and smirks at me. Turning his face away dramatically, he says, “So you know this dance, Bella.”

I move to stand as he lets go of my face. I step around him, running my hand across his shoulders, “My dance instructor was Antivan.”
“Good,” he teases as I am now standing in front of him again. He grabs me around the waist, leaning forward, so I have to bend back. I drape a leg over his hip, and he looks at me approvingly as I bend back further, almost touching the ground. Coming out of the dip, he looks at me and spins me several times in succession, and then he lets go. I continue to turn and pass my hands up the sides of my body as I roll my hips looking at him; I smirk and beckon him with a finger. As he dances over, I note that no one else is dancing. We have become the spectacle.

I stare at him as he pulls me into him again and I drop and run my hands up his legs to his chest while rolling my hips. As I come to standing, he gracefully steps behind me and takes me around the waist with his head just above my shoulder, “your teacher taught you well, Bella,” He says in a lowered husky tone. I smirk knowingly as we do a few steps in close contact before he spins me again before pulling me back in. We come back together. I roll my body sinuously, ghosting my hands down his body, as he pins my eyes to his with an intense look. I no longer care if we are making a scene. It’s just Zevran and me, and our dance.

We both step out and pose. Zevran spins me back in so my back is pressed to his chest. He chuckles wickedly as he runs his hands along my sides lightly but purposefully brushing my breasts on the way to my waist, causing me to shudder slightly. My head turns toward him, our eyes locking, as I wrap my leg around his hips and my arm around his neck. I drop my head back to his shoulder. He leans forward; I bend at the waist in a large circle, bringing my hands down in front of me as he holds my hips to steady me. As I raise my body, I lift my hands over my head, placing one arm around his neck. I reach over with the other hand turning his face toward mine.

“Bella?” He asks huskily with a questioning gaze. I nod in agreement. He grasps my waist firmly, and I lift my other foot gracefully as he slowly turns my body draped over his. I put one foot down and start to the right myself as he turns us faster, putting my other foot back on the ground. I turn so that we are facing each other. Wrapping my arms around his neck, we spin with his arm pulling me in just below my shoulder blade. He lets go again, and I rotate away and turn to glance at him. Walking toward him, I roll my hips tantalizingly before reaching for his waist and pushing him back. He grins at this little game and steps back a few feet.

Walking toward him again, this time I put my hand on his waist and turning him with me as well stare into each other’s eyes. I step back, and he grabs my hands, pulling me in. I can tell the song is ending. We dance close in traditional form for a few steps, looking at each other, and then he steps in. I understand; I wrap my outer leg against his hip, tilting my hips against his hip sensuously. “Minx,” I hear him growl as he lets go of my hand and drops the other one running it from my shoulder blade to my waist. I bend into the dip deeply, grinning wickedly, as I press harder into his hip. As I come out of the dip and stand, he spins me out to stand beside him and takes a bow. I smile and curtsy to our stunned companions, who start clapping. We look at each other breathlessly, grinning. Zev leans over and whispers lasciviously, “We need to dance again, Amada.”

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