let the celebrations begin!
The last light has faded. The bonfire is lit and the fireflies are glowing merrily. The scent of wood-smoke is in the air. Three of the identical serving men have taken up instruments from the bower and have begun to play, varying between soft ballads and dancing tunes. By the fire, a large silver pail holds small, glittering crystals
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... and, not having actually had a drink in some time made one's tolerance hit rock bottom. Anders hadn't even had that much before he was staggering in Hawke's direction, and flinging an arm around his friend.
"There you are!"
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"Who are you and where's Anders?"
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Actually laughed.
Okay, so it was a lot more of a drunken chuckle than anything, but still. The impossible had happened.
"I'm right. Right here. Where else would I go off to? There's nowhere else to go!"
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"Are you feeling alright?"
Maybe he was sick, though Hawke wasn't sure if that was possible either. It might have been a good idea to pay more attention when Anders talked about Justice.
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Anders suddenly frowned, deep in thought. Yes. It must be possible. Because that was how he was feeling. Then he nodded, grinning again, and reaching over to clasp Hawke on the shoulders.
"Are you? You feeling-- Are you feeling all right? Because I am!"
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"Anders, have you had anything to drink?"
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"I have had... several things," he announced, proudly. And then laughed.
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"You're drunk. How are you drunk?" Because asking a drunk man questions was a sure fire way of getting answers.
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This is said with all the seriousness one might give a statement of incurable disease. Or something like that. Either way, Anders can't quite believe Hawke doesn't know how someone gets drunk.
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How could Hawke forget that? Everytime he even remotely suggested the idea of drinking Anders always threw that in his face.
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Anders announces this a lot more loudly than he has to, but he's grinning, widely. This is probably the happiest Hawke has ever seen him. For once, the spirit is dead silent. The rage is calm.
He practically feels like laughing until he cries. This is fabulous.
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"Then why are we just standing around her for? Let's celebrate!"
He throws his arm over Anders shoulder and leads him right back towards the liquor table. Who knows when or if this is going to happen again, so tonight Hawke is going to pump as many drinks into the mage as he can. It's about time he finally enjoys himself. Maybe Hawke can even get him laid. That would do him a world of good.
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"I like celebrating. Really-- no. Really. I do. I do -- it's not me, it's him."
And then there's a world of shiny bottles and glasses in front of him. And Anders just... stares.
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Hawke grabs a couple of bottles, pushing one into Anders' hand. This will be a day he'll never forget...or maybe he will. Well he'll remember the hangover at least. That counts for something.
"Here's to not having to deal with a crabby, fun-killing spirit!"
And thus begins the chugging.
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He's not quite the right man to be shouting mightily at a party, but damned if Anders doesn't try his best, lifting one of the bottles into the air. He waves it around a few times before staggering sideways into Hawke.
"G'bye Justice!"
He drinks. And drinks.
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"And good riddance!"
While he drinks Hawke carefully sets him against the table so he doesn't fall over.
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