The longest night of the year was also the best night of the year for business. At least if one's business made it's living in the world after dark, behind closed doors with the hush of feminine voices and the heavy smell of perfume.
In Rivain the sun sank in the horizon earlier than usual, but the temperature was still mild. Perhaps a bit cooler than the hot-blooded natives preferred, but to Lillian it was more like home than ever, and at the same time, nothing at all like home.
This time of year in Ferelden there would be snow on the ground. Little spears of ice would be clinging to the eaves of homes. Children would be building men made out of the powder and having snowball fights in the bustling market square. The smell of roasting chestnuts would fill the air, mingling with the pleasant smell of burning wood from the chimneys. In the Pearl it had always been a raucous celebration; the night when the pirates crowded around the tables alongside pick-pockets and cutpurses. The brothel would be full of singing voices and rowdy companions.
With the moon high in the sky Lillie would retire to her room when dawn was nearly ready to break, the small space chilled from a window left ajar in case a certain thief dear to her heart might slip in to celebrate the rest of the evening in her arms.
In Rivain there were parties just the same. After all, the longest night of the year shouldn't be wasted. Less daylight to work by and more evening to play in, as was the way many of the Rivani viewed this time of year. The Lost Night was more crowded perhaps than usual, and a trio of musicians had taken a place near the bar. Men and women danced, their feet sliding delicately across the wooden floor. Lillie watched them and longed for the stomping energetic songs and dances of her homeland.
Slipping off the low couch where she'd been sitting enjoying the ambient conversations around her, Lilli crossed the room, weaving between the dancers and closing her hand around the glass of a drink that was thrust in her direction. The smell of warm honeyed ale drifted to her nose as she raised it to take a small sip. A drink that came from Qunari lands to the north. The jade colored skirts of her dress swirled between her legs, caught in the breeze as she pulled the door open and stepped out onto the cobbled street.
It seemed all the houses on the block were lit up, music and laughter pouring through the open windows. The market place was hushed and silent, the stalls sitting like forgotten sentries, the shops dark and no shoppers drifting the large square. To the south she could see the pier; docked boats bobbing on the waves and the scent of the sea drifting towards her. Maybe it was wishful thinking to imagine she could see the lights of her homeland far across the Waking Sea in the distance.
And then from behind her a voice, soft and accented, calling her name. "Lillie? Aren't you going to join the party?"
With one last glance she turned, a smile that was perhaps partially false touching at her lips as she studied the pretty Rivani woman beckoning to her. "Yes, of course."
Letting the door fall shut behind her she drifted into the crowd of people towards her friends. Still, it seemed to Lillian that the Longest Night was even longer than usual this first year in Rivain.