( OPEN ) | something borrowed, something blue

[indissection]

WHO: Byerly, Sidony and guests (everyone is invited)
WHAT: The best sham of a wedding Thedas has ever seen
WHEN: Now
WHERE: the Toad and Flagon
NOTES: The Best Wedding Ever ft. a kidnapping

You are hereby invited to the wedding of Byerly Rutyer and Sidony Celogera Allegra Venaras. The venue is not quiet nor is it beautiful; the gambling hall is loud and intense, with all kinds of smells and dirtiness to carry along with the strangeness of their wedding. There’s some attempt at draping, some attempt at making it look as though some kind of party is taking place here, but it certainly doesn’t look like there’s going to be a wedding at all. It’s hastily done, hastily put together, but at least it’s something, which is better than nothing. There’s about an hour until the wedding is due to start and both the bride and groom are getting ready - whatever that means to the two of them. Food is not provided. There are no drinks bought. There's a table for gifts to one side, with a little plaque with their names on. Prostitutes and gamblers wander between the aisles and chairs, laughing and making jokes with one another, completely avoiding setting the scene of a proper wedding.

Comments

I. closed

[indissection]

Preparing for her wedding is not something that Sidony had imagined herself doing much. When she was younger she had pictured herself slipping into a perfect white gown, walking down the aisle with her father, proud and beaming at her side, white and silken and beautiful. She had never imagined her mother being there, never imagined what it might mean if her parents were the cause of her wedding in a slightly different way - it makes her feel panicked, in a brief way.

It’s not because she doesn’t want to marry Byerly; he’s a suitable husband, a good friend, and a miraculous person who is saving her from a life of practical servitude. He is taking her under his wing, caring for her, providing her what she needs, and giving her his hand in marriage to keep her with Riftwatch. Her heart is beating a little too fast and she leans forward, closing her eyes before she finishes the final touch of the necklace around her neck.

She never wanted to get married. Neither of them do, really, she thinks, but at least they can agree on this.

Sidony’s dress is beautiful enough, she thinks; it’s one of the last ones she has that’s beautiful enough to be called a wedding gown, and she smoothes her hand down the silks before she steps over and slips into the room Byerly is in, peeking through the door before she smiles, soft and fond.

“Darling.” Her immediate reaction is to go and pet her hand through his hair, careful and sure.

[bouchonne]

She does look so lovely. He cannot help but feel a swell of pride at how lovely she looks. A silly little thing: he had nothing to do with it, after all; he is not her father, and indeed not even her stylist. He didn't even need to consult on the dress. But even so, here he is, gazing upon her, inexplicably proud.

Not happy. Funny thing, that, that he's not happy. He ought to be. This wedding is going to be a riotous scandal, when word of it reaches anywhere - and it'll be a thumb in the eye of his family, Maker knows. It'll be a delightfully smutty affair, too, one that'll make Riftwatch flustered and embarrassed in a harmless sort of way, and that's delightful. And it's certainly not as though he'd ever get married to someone he actually loved. And yet in some strange, oblique way, it feels as though a door is being closed. He didn't even know that door existed in this twisted and musty old house, but even so, there it is, being shut and locked forever. Nothing to weep over. Just...

Ah, well. He lowers his hair to her ministrations. He looks decently handsome himself - even with his limited budget, he really does have an impeccable sense of style, and he's shaved nicely and gotten his hair trimmed. Nothing to complain of on either of their sides.

"Where shall we take our honeymoon, my dear?"

[indissection]

There's a sense to Sidony of something freeing as well as pained; she watched Byerly for a moment, something fond on her face before she sighs and cups his cheeks in her palms. She is asking a great deal of him, after all. Marriage is something that is meant to last forever, and even knowing they might get an annulment in the future if her future becomes safe, is not enough to soothe her rattled and uncertain nerves.

She is taking something from him, she knows that, and her thumbs brush over his cheekbones, careful and soft.

While she would never say she was in love with Byerly she does, indeed, love him - as though he is the brother she had always wished he had. The very fact that he is doing this for her, on her behalf, makes her feel unsure and uncomfortable. There's a pressure to make him as happy as she can, leaning up to nudge her forehead on his; which is a feat, considering how short she is.

Finally, her hands brush down against his chest, against his lapels, nodding her head with a small, wry smile.

"Wherever we like, I imagine." Slow arms wrap around him, letting herself rest against his chest. "Or we could simply stay here and drink wine and read books."

[bouchonne]

"That sounds quite lovely," he responds wryly. "But let's divide up the labor like this - you do all the reading, and I'll do all the drinking."

He smiles down at her, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. Why is he nervous? What a silly thing he is, sometimes. But - there are a few questions that must be gotten out of the way with. Firmly.

"You are all right being a scandal, my dear?" His voice is soft. "This type of association with me will ruin you for any respectable marriage henceforth. You truly are willing to accept that?"

ia. closed to anders

[indissection]

It takes her a little while to get ready, to tug on all her silks and outfits, to try and pin her hair back. She's sent her handmaiden away because it's not worth the risk of getting her involved; it would be silly to think that the poor girl deserves the wrath of her mother for taking part in this. It's a frustrating affair, tugging combs through her long hair before she gives up and slumps into the midst of her large armchair, staring at the mirror.

It feels utterly ridiculous. This marriage isn't even real, and yet... She wants to look beautiful.

If she had ever felt as though she was going to be a bride - and it is a thought she had been running from for a long time - she had hoped to be one of the most beautiful. She knows she's handsome, she knows she is pretty, but she wanted to be stunning; she wanted to be the only thing people could look at.

Sighing softly, she turns her head to look as the door opens, almost petulant and pouting

"What?"

[justice_is_blond]

"I saw your maid pacing out there, looking torn between sulking and relief," he says as he comes in. Sidony looks almost equally torn, plopped down in her chair. The door gets closed behind Anders before he comes over and meets her gaze in the mirror.

"I've no idea why you sent her out, but I do know my way around getting ready for events, if you'd like a hand." Everyone wants to look amazing on their wedding day, noble and mage and peasant alike, even if the marriage is just a shield. "Or I can sit here and chatter if you'd just like company. Lack of attraction notwithstanding, it's still a wedding and that still carries nerves, I'd think."

Her hair is a little bit of a mess. Anders pulls it back behind her shoulders, at least, making her look less defeated.

[indissection]

"The less she is involved the better. I'd hate for my mother to get the poor girl into any more trouble than she already is." Which is frustrating, because Sidony desperately needs someone to help her with the final pieces of her clothes and the last touchups to her hair - there's only so much she can do with her own two hands, which is more irritating than she'd like to admit.

At least she relaxes when Anders comes in and towards her, turning close to offer him a small smile, lifting her hand to touch his. She's more than glad to see him, especially since it immediately calms her down and settles some of her more aggravated nerves.

"Please," she nods, sitting up a little, ignoring the slump of her shoulders. "Anything you can do with my hair would be wonderful, dear, truly."

II. the wedding (ota, mingle)

[indissection]

The leadup to the wedding is simple and exciting. There’s no alcohol provided, of course, but there’s a place to buy your own drinks and order some food if you’re really interested in it. People mill around and talk, chat, half of them uninterested in the events taking place and the other half curious about the fact that Byerly is getting married; there’s certainly a reputation to be had, even if Sidony herself has never stepped inside the place before in her entire life.

At least there doesn’t seem to be any kind of drama unfolding, which might be expected in the midst of a wedding in the middle of a gambling hall.

The minutes begin to tick down and time continues - it’s getting closer and closer to the time where the wedding is due to begin. People start to make their way towards the tiny aisle set up for the couple to walk down, the most reputable looking Chantry brother standing at the other end, looking for all intents and purposes as though he is bored with everything that has been happening in his life up until now.

For the next hour or so there is mingling, talking, a little dancing - someone is playing music, even if it is not the most fitting or appropriate - and attempts at making some kind of event out of it. There's no bride or groom to be seen, at least not yet, and the members of Riftwatch that have been invited are being given some very odd looks by the rest of the attendees - they're not used to having so many people here, especially people of importance or stature.

Then, eventually, music begins and the doors open, the wedding beginning - and that’s when hell breaks loose.

ota.

[murderbaby]

It occurs to Mhavos that he hasn't a clue what the bride or groom look like. And yet, this is a good enough way to meet them as any. He has a package under his arm, a gift, the best he could provide.

If he's honest, he's mostly here to meet people in this damned organization he's signed himself over to.

He'll greet whoever politely and convivially. "Excuse me. Do you know the bride or groom? I've no clue who to give the gift to."

[cozen]

One response: "How many people have you asked so far?"

Bastien has not gone out of his way to dress nicely, given the setting, and could be one of the tavern's unconcerned gamblers as easily as a wedding guest, save for the fact that he's sitting alone and looking fairly attentive to the front of the room and the bored Chantry brother sitting there. He pauses that to look at the gift-bearer instead, all friendly interest.

[murderbaby]

Mhavos dips his head, reflexive to the accent. "You would be the honored first." Yet, despite the deference, there's a hint of irony in his voice.

[sarcophage]

In this case, Whoever greets him first. It isn't by accident—he's overheard the voice and thus come to investigate.

This particular Whoever is dressed with an eye for fashion, not richly, but through the creative application of a Riftwatch wage. His hair's been vaguely tamed for the occasion. There's a drink in his hand and a positively boyish flush across his cheeks. (It only takes half a cup to bring that out; he wears it like a mask.)

"You seem a bit lost," he says, from one side and a little behind—it'd be sudden to someone who's not paying attention. (Is he paying attention? That's often worth knowing.) With a gesture to the parcel Mhavos carries, "Are you with the wedding party?"

[murderbaby]

Mhavos is always paying attention to his surroundings. Mhavos is also usually not showing signs of it, trying not to draw obvious suspicion. How good he is at handling both tends to depend on his mood, the seriousness of the matter, and who, precisely, is watching.

So there is a momentary stutter-stop of surprise when he hears someone whisper behind him. A flinch, as though expecting something more than words. He is an elven servant, and a fighter in darkness-- it's a respectable response for either.

He turns to find a human with a familiar voice, pleasant and soft.

"I was invited by the wedding party." So was everyone in Riftwatch, but. It's worthwhile to defend his right to be here. "Have we met...?"

[tender]

This is the second event Derrica's turned up at with little idea of what she's meant to be doing or any real familiarity with the people she's meant to be working with. Though she has some hopes that this will be more productive than the etiquette lesson. At least most people arriving don't seem to entirely resent their presences here.

Though as Mhavos speaks, her eyes drop to the package, then lift back to his face. She grimaces slightly, flushing.

"Were we supposed to bring a gift?"

Even as she asks, she realizes, yes, she probably should have brought a gift. Also, the implied answer to his question: she is not part of the wedding party.

[murderbaby]

"I assume you're not the bride, then," Mhavos says dryly. Which is rude, honestly, but rude is something he's allowed to occasionally be, so why not.

"I think the groom expected a great deal of things, many of which he will not receive, from the sound of it. In that light, I believe gift-giving is a personal choice."

ota

[heirring]

She'd come, she said, to prove Byerly Rutyer was being nothing more than an oafish card tricking people into putting money in her pocket. And if she's honest, Wysteria isn't yet completely certain that isn't the case. Would this be an elaborate arrangement for the sake of earning a little coin? Certainly. But where her confidence in the man might fail in nearly every other respect, she is certain of his mind and its propensity toward cultivating needlessly elaborate nonsense.

She was at Saturnalia. She saw that costume. This is hardly more complex than any of that. What's truly bewildering is--

Baffled, Wysteria turns to the Riftwatch member nearest to her. "You don't seriously believe any of this, do you?"

[hornswoggle]

"No," John answers easily, possibly the worst person to put the question to.

John's presence here is some uneven mix of being vaguely fond of Sidony and the need to be at least adjacent to whatever's happening in Kirkwall to keep an eye on it. This is in some respects a more trying event than others. There isn't even wine provided for them.

"But I assume I'm thinking that for different reasons you are."

The setting and lack of any particular type of formality doesn't necessarily bother John. (In truth, he's thinking too much of Madi, about what any kind of vow he could ever give her would look like.) Simple weddings and bored Chantry brothers are fairly standard, in John's experience. But Sidony had never struck him as impulsive, and he still isn't sure what to make of this entire affair.

III. the kidnapping (ota)

[indissection]

Sidony reaches the middle of the Chantry brother and her betrothed, the wedding begins. It’s quickly done, without much hesitation, rambling through he vows before Sidony can reach up and lean in to kiss Byerly properly, gentle and quick. It’s not meant to be intensely romantic, obvious by how quickly it’s over and done with, and she’s about to reach for his hand before something - many things - happen.

From the audience a figure stands up, looking frustrated, angry and more than just a little upset. From around him a handful of people stand with him, storming up the aisle and reaching to wrap an arm around Sidony, who is quickly ripped away from Byerly’s arms and pressed into the arms of someone else, much taller than she is, despite her protests and her wiggling.

Most of the people in the gambling hall don’t seem to react, but there’s a curly haired man who immediately moves forward, attempting to stop it, eyes wide and flaring. Sidony looks panicked when she sees him, immediately reaching out for him before a bag is shoved over her head and a practical riot breaks out. Two of the men immediately go to Byerly, to make sure he doesn’t follow, as the rest take her out of the hall and out into Lowtown.

In their wake, there's a moment of silence before the gambling hall goes back to their games and jaunts as if a kidnapping is more than regular here.

ota but also feel free to ignore to go fight some npcs

[bouchonne]

It happens far too fast. He doesn't even have time to react. Foolish of him - stupid - to think that the reports of her family's delay were to be trusted - to do this publicly, instead of quickly and in secret -

"Don't - " By surges forward in the arms of the men holding him back. It may be a surprise to see lazy, feckless Byerly fighting with true panicked desperation, and fighting dirty, and fighting well; with real agility, he takes down one man with a hard knee to the groin, and slams his elbow into the throat of the other. "Stop them - " The fear is real in him, all the playacting gone, as he pushes through the crowd to go after Sidony.

But he takes only half a dozen steps before he runs into another of the Venaras' men. And this one does not hesitate; he pushes a dagger into Byerly's stomach. By goes down, collapsing with a gasp, clutching at the wound.

[keenly]

Byerly’s assailant is suddenly flung across the room, neck snapping as he hits the wall. Colin drops to his side and erects a strong barrier around them both.

“There you are,” he says calmly, as if finding Byerly in a perfectly normal situation. “Let me see that scratch, please.”

He roots around in a pocket for a clean handkerchief he can use to put pressure on the wound. Finding one, he folds it into quarters. His hands are steady, but this is one of the worst things he can think of, tending to a friend with a potentially lethal wound.

(ota, pursuit)

[justice_is_blond]

It happens so fast. Anders is as shocked by the kidnapping by how quickly things to back to normal, a thought that gets filed away for later, before he pushes through the surprise to move, pushing through the crowd after the group that's taken Sidony. Byerly actually putting up something of a fight is noted, added to the pile of surprising things to think about later. There's too much, and when the man goes down Colin's seeing to him which means Anders can keep chasing after the men.

"Stop!" he shouts. They probably won't, but that's hardly going to keep him from yelling it. His staff is pulled off his back as he runs, praying he's moving quickly enough to make a difference. She'd been ready to sell away some of her freedom to avoid this fate; she deserves so much better than this.

One quick, small cast of fire has a rear man's jacket burst into flame. "I said stop," he yells again. Hopefully this counts as defense of Riftwatch and not attacking people in Kirkwall, because there are definitely ways this could go not-well for him. Beyond them possibly turning around en masse, or having a Templar in the group.

[unshut]

The Toad and Flagon is one of those grimy gambling houses with an upstairs loft, and so it is also one of those grimy gambling houses with a rickety second story balcony jammed into and overlooking the narrow alleyway alongside it. Usually suitable for little more than tipping over the railing to an early head skull cracking, tonight it makes a perfect vantage point as the kidnappers bundle their quarry away, followed hot on their heels by--

Well, but a little heat on their heels. The flash of fire is bright in the grungy half dark, and Anders' voice carries the length of the alleyway.

The crossbow bolt doesn't have to travel quite so far to find its target: winging one of the kidnappers toward the rear of the pack with a deadly hiss of air and steel. It grazes him, glancing off the nearby wall with a snap of metal.

It's difficult to make the figure on the balcony with the hand crossbow; they're decked in a cloak and hood, hardly visible over the rail from the ground.

IV. the rescue (ota)

[indissection]

It doesn't take much time, after a little discussion, for Octavian to lead them to the ship - the Celogera, a slightly older looking ship that seems to be more hovering than docked. There aren't too many men wandering around on deck right now, most of them restocking for the return journey. They don't have too far to go by sea, of course, the distance between Kirkwall and Nevarra not quite as stretched on sea as it might be on foot, but they'll still have some travel to do once they've returned. There's no obvious sign of Sidony on deck, but a harried-looking guard wanders up from somewhere below and leans in to say something to another.

Their woeful guide, Octavian, can't help but laugh, low and soft in his throat. Sidony.

"She's likely been put in my rooms," he comments idly, leaning against a wall and watching the ship with a flick of his gaze. They're similar in a lot of ways - eyes, the sharpness of their features, their accent - but he is softer, gentler than the cattiness of his twin. "I could lead the way there, but we must find a means of getting on the ship first. I imagine it might be a little obvious if you were all to join me for a walk."

He's also most certainly the funnier twin.

[sulahnan]

"Sneak in through a gun port?" Athessa's suggestion comes with a shrug. Easy enough, that shrug conveys, even though it's a route that perhaps only she and Derrica could manage. Anders isn't exactly a large man, but it'd still be a little snug.

"I guess asking nicely is out, right? What if we report the kidnapping to the guards and have them conduct a search of the ship?"

I missed the move to here, I'm sorry!

[justice_is_blond]

"I could set the sail on fire and keep it from getting anywhere near where she'd be, that could be distracting. Then we could walk up. I don't think the guards will care if nobles kidnap a noble from their own family, unfortunately. I think that would be the sort of thing they turn a blind eye to."

He'll grant that the man's at least trying to be funny, but Octavian is the one who knows the factors involved. "Which rooms are, or were, yours?"