Chapter Text
When Yuri gazed upon the Red Templar Behemoth, jawline of jagged crystals opening wide, red eyes glowing brighter will murderous intent, and fists like crude clubs, he could not help but think how he was only in this situation because he decided chocolates or an autograph were not good enough a gift for his lover. Were he not so busy waving a sword in one hand and summoning a spell in the other, he would have laughed in spite of himself.
***
Satinalia passed through Skyhold, like a fair breeze in a brutal winter, with few souls even noticing it happened. Corypheus and all the demons spilling out of the Rifts did not care that it was a holiday, and so all the soldiers and scouts and workers remained vigilant. There were moments here and there, in quiet spaces of time between battles and meetings, where people celebrated in small ways. Clerics and Keepers uttered prayers in quiet contemplation. Rations were gathered and mashed together for makeshift feasts in the Herald’s Rest. Bull’s Chargers would walk into neighboring villages and pass out toys, including plush nugs that Cremisius sewed himself, and wooden griffons the resident Warden carved. Even the Inquisitor was seen sneaking about to bring little pastries to the chief ambassador. But outside of these little moments, the Inquisition kept working, so that they would live to see another.
One day during this Satinalia, snow sprinkled over the castle towers and covered the camps and battlements with a fine film of flurries. A chilled wind blew across the bridge, blasting through the portcullis. Almost everyone within its walls were already used to colder weather and were prepared for their service within the mountain tower. They continued their work, rushing from place to place under the shadow of the heavy grey clouds.
But two of the newly recruited agents, elven mages Yuri and Pichit, struggled with the especially bad weather conditions. Both being from Starkhaven, which had weather that was balmy at its worst, shivered and scurried into the Herald's Rest for immediate shelter. Having lived large portions of their lives in Circle towers, they marveled at the perfectly normal Ferelden weather.
Pichit quickly ordered hot cider for him and his friend, but he found Yuri staring out the window, watching the rim crust over with crinkles of ice, the tiny patterns of the snowflakes plastered on the glass.
"It looks almost silver, in this light," Yuri sighed. “It’s so pretty.”
"The snow?" said Pichit, squinting, trying to see what his friend saw, in the fuzzy filter of firelight and cabin walls.
"Oh, uh, yes! It was reminding me of something. Satinalia is soon."
"You're right! I almost forgot! I doubt it's on anyone's mind, what with the demons falling out of the sky and impending doom and all."
Yuri's dreamy expression became flushed with embarrassment, his pale chubby cheeks red and his rounded jaw tensed. "I didn't mean to make light of things!"
“I know, I’m just teasing. But I also know it’s your first Satinalia with Victor, so I figured you’d be sad about it. I don’t think anyone’s expecting a gift or any feasting at a time like this. Not even Victor.”
“Normally I would think so too, but his name day is on Satinalia, and it’s our first one as a couple! It just doesn’t feel right to get nothing on such an important day.”
Pichit frowned. “Important to him or to you?”
Yuri’s brow slanted, and his voice shifted to a defensive tone. “Can’t it be both?”
“I just mean you shouldn’t worry about a gift when all he probably wants is for you to stay alive and stay with him. He’s had a pretty lonely life, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, but… you just don’t know Victor like I do.”
"Fine. Get him a nug."
"Oh, that's your suggestion for everything!"
"It's always a good suggestion! I can get a little white one. That's fancy, right? He likes fancy."
"Do humans even like nugs?"
"They'd better, if I'm to believe they have any redeeming qualities."
"Well... I'm going to keep looking for gifts, but I will keep that as a backup plan."
“Good! I’ve given nugs to a bunch of people in Skyhold and they were all thrilled!”
“Wait, even Seung-gil?”
“Of course even Seung-gil. Why?”
“Doesn’t he have a pet wolf?”
“I mean, yes, but…he seemed happy enough to get the nug.”
“Because he thought it was food for his wolf?”
Pichit’s face turned flat and cold, as he steadily got up from his seat and rushed to the door. “Please excuse me. I have to go, immediately.”
With his friend gone, Yuri sought out gift advice from others. He looked around the tavern and found Christophe, former Antivan Crow and old friend of Victor’s.
“Well, well,” he said, “what brings you to my little corner?”
"You and Victor are longtime friends, correct? I was just hoping you could help me decide a gift for him, since Satinalia and his name day are so close, and it’s our first one as a couple."
“I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer in the way of gift-giving. As a Crow, the only thing I ever gave,” he paused, then looked directly at Yuri, his eyes gleaming. “…was death.”
Yuri groaned. “How long have you been waiting on an opportunity to say that?”
“A while, so thank you for THAT gift! Joyous Satinalia to me!”
Yuri’s head dropped. “Maybe going to an assassin who likes wordplay for gift advice was a bad idea.”
“Aww, come now. You’re both mages, perhaps something magical in nature? Something practical? Even with someone as exquisite tastes such as myself could always do for a new rune or staff. Or even just a staff handle! You need a firm grip, after all.”
“That’s too predictable.”
“Are you worried Victor will leave you if you don’t give him anything special enough?”
“That’s not it, and I don’t appreciate the suggestion.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not you, truly. But I do know Victor can be fickle. I don’t think I need to tell you he likes surprises.”
“That’s why it can’t just be something easy or predictable, like something I would get for myself. It can’t be something I can get just anywhere.”
"You could always get him an autograph from Madame de Fer, she's his idol."
"That is a good idea, but.... she’s always busy on the really important missions with the Inquisitor. I doubt she could make time for something like this."
Christophe sighed. "Well, then, I'm afraid I'm all out of ideas. My husband has never been picky about gifts, so I've never had to worry much about it."
"I'm sorry, Christophe, I know I'm being difficult."
"You have reason to be. But you clearly care, you'll figure something out. As long as that care shines through, Victor will love whatever it is."
***
Later on, Yuri wandered all over Skyhold, until he found Michele, a former Templar who joined the Inquisition around the same time he did.
Yuri intercepted his training and Michele huffed, jamming his sword in the ground. The barracks were full of warriors like him, and many former templars like him, too. He wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to process the mage’s question. "Why are you asking ME this?"
"I'm asking everyone who will listen, honestly," Yuri said with a shrug. "Plus, your sister's a mage and you were close. What would you two get each other for special times?"
Michele frowned. "Circle mages are seldom allowed gifts, as you should well know, and especially not from templars, even if they are family.”
“Did you never try to give her presents?”
“Of course I tried!” he barked. “I would try and find her books and scrolls on protective magic, barriers and such, so she could defend herself if I wasn’t there.”
“Isn’t your sister a Senior Enchanter? She would probably be given access to those things anyway.”
“I know that NOW, but—”
“Oh wait! Isn’t she the one who protected her students from attacking templars, and lead them all safely to Skyhold?”
“Y-yes, but—”
“That’s right, and she was the one who saved a bunch of Inquisition soldiers from Venatori! She sent a whole bunch of hem flying! It was all anyone talked about at the Herald’s Rest for weeks!”
“I thought we were talking about your problems,” Michele picked his sword back up and turned back to the dummies. “As you can see, I have nothing, so leave me to my training and just… go get some fancy chocolate, I don’t know. Orlesians like silly fancy things.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a sore subject.”
“Well, it is.”
“I have an older sister. She found out about my magic before anyone else, but she never told anyone. Eventually I came forward and went to the Circle on my own, but things were different between us after she found out. We trusted each other, and we never betrayed that trust.”
Michele paused. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Just that letting people protect themselves is also a sign of love, I guess. Trusting they can do it themselves?”
He sighed. “I’ll think on it. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll join the royal army. Apparently, the King of Ferelden looks just like me and has a good sense of humor. Maybe he’ll get a kick out of it.”
“I think you just not being a Templar is gift enough.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing, nothing, I was just leaving!”
***
Then Yuri wandered past main hall; the throne was empty, surely the Inquisitor was busy with their Inner Circle, so the autograph idea wasn't going to happen soon. But even in their absence, the hall was full to bursting. Yuri sighed deeply; the tension he often felt passing this part of Skyhold was diminished. The warmth of the fire filled the whole room, and it smelled softly of burning wood and crackling embers. The whispers and worries were replaced with laughter. Yuri traversed the crowds, walking through their conversations. Unnoticed, he saw some even held hands and exchanged sweet nothings. Then he remembered he knew a couple just like that! Maybe they would have some gift ideas.
And so he traveled up the tower to the rookery, where scouts and spies gathered, awaiting their next assignments. Yuri looked around, hoping to find the familiar faces amongst the hooded figures and flapping ravens. Luckily for him, Jean-Jacques and his wife Isabella were not very secretive as far as bards went, so Yuri sighed in relief when he found their wide grins and boisterous laughter among the whispers. Although he also noticed several scouts, including the Spymaster herself, wincing in annoyance of their open affection. But that's exactly what Yuri needed.
"That's so sweet," said Isabella after Yuri told them of his problem. "I agree, it needs to be extra special!"
"That's why I came to you," said Yuri. "I'm sure you two understand... the extra part."
"Obviously," said Jean. "We can't help shower each other with exuberant gifts at any given opportunity! I should make up a holiday just to have another excuse to give her all she deserves!"
"Oh, you!" Isabella giggled and blushed.
“That’s, ah, great,” said Yuri, blushing.
"You can never go wrong with something sparkly," said Isabella, flashing her hand, glittering with rings, pointing to one with a whitish-blue tiny. "This one here is made with Silverite. JJ gave it to me when I first left the Chantry to be a bard with him. It’s Formarri enchanted and helps restore my vigor when I get tired.”
"Clothing, jewelry, expensive wine, arcane powers beyond my understanding. Whatever my wife wants, she gets," Jean proclaimed proudly. "Remember when I got us matching daggers for our anniversary? The very same night, you dug it into the back of a corrupt merchant!"
"Templar, dear,” Isabella corrected, her smile unwavering. “It was a templar. I got him drunk, then I wedged it in the slits between his armor plates."
"Aha, of course, of course," Jean bellowed. "I must have forgotten the details. All I could remember was how beautiful you looked that night."
"Oh, JJ, you always know how to make a flawless recovery."
"I wouldn't be much of a bard or a husband if I didn't!"
The two laughed, their hands clasped over the others. Yuri had to clear his throat to make his presence known again.
"Matching daggers? So you guys really do everything together, huh?"
"Of course," said Jean with a wink. "I taught her everything I know about being a bard, and she taught me a few tricks, too."
"I've never met a Chantry sister that didn't know her way around a knife," said Isabella, "which is a little sad, but there it is."
"Victor and I are both mages, but our styles are very different, especially since I learned combat magic. But maybe... maybe it doesn't have to stay that way! Something that really shines!" He stood up, a determined furrow of the brows and wide grin. "I've got it!" he waved to the two bards and barreled down the rookery's stairs. "Thank you! Joyous Satinalia!"