( 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

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.

[bouchonne]

When By lifts his hands from the wound, it seeps blood at a truly alarming rate. The handkerchief is quickly soaked through; By trembles and gasps, eyes rolling back to fix on Colin. What a way to die, he thinks to himself. Stabbed for acting perfectly honorably. Perhaps it's the Maker's punishment upon a monster, for having the gall to pretend he's a man -

Ah, fuck. One bloody hand comes out and hooks around Colin's wrist. "Go after her," he urges him. Which is a stupid thing to say; he recognizes that at some level. If Colin goes away, By is going to die. But in his state of shock, all he can think about is Sidony. "They're going to ruin her life."

[keenly]

Ah. That must be why Byerly has been acting so strange.

“People are going after her right now,” he explains calmly, setting the cloth against Byerly’s wound with his free hand. “You leave them to their work while we get on with ours.”

He puts pressure against the wound for a few seconds before taking a peek at it. It’s a small wound on the outside, but deep. No organs are slipping out. It’s safe to heal. The cloth goes back on; Colin’s eyes shut and his face goes vacant while he channels the spirit’s magic. A blue glow surrounds his hands and the wound begins to knit together.

[bouchonne]

By's ragged breath turns more even as the pain fades. The tension in his muscles fades. His color scarcely improves, though; he's lost a lot of blood, and even that crafty little spirit of Colin's can't pour that back into his body.

Even so, he tries to push his way up to his feet. He knows he ought to be reflecting upon the joy of being not-dead, or his gratitude towards this boy who really is rather too good to him, but - "Help me up." (He is in absolutely no state to be getting up.)

[keenly]

The flow of magic ceases. Colin sways in its wake with the exhaustion and vertigo typical of such an outpour of mana. There will be scarring for Byerly, and even the magically healed tissue is very new and delicate. Magic is a good healer; time is a better one. Colin holds the man’s forearms as firmly as he is capable.

“You need to lie still,” he tells him evenly. “People have gone to rescue her right now. Just sit tight and she’ll be back before you know it. You’ll be no good to her if you tear your wounds open again, will you?”

[bouchonne]

He stops trying to push upwards - more from sheer pain than from the effect of Colin's very reasonable exhortations - and slumps back instead. He utters a curse vile enough to blister in Trade, then another in Orlesian, then a third in Antivan; then, slowly, he rolls onto his side, and allows himself to let out a miserable agonized breath.

"This wasn't how it was supposed to go..." He clenches a fist, then says - "We got through the ceremony. Enough of it. The marriage is legal. This is a kidnapping - we'll have the force of the law behind us, at least."

[keenly]

“You knew someone was coming for her,” Colin says quietly, “and married her to protect her. That...sounds a lot like you.”

Colin looks up at the inkeep and asks for a blanket. Blood loss will make him feel cold, as will any shock coming from this. He turns back to his friend, gently placing a bloodied hand on his shoulder.

“Who took her? Where are they going with her?”

[bouchonne]

"It's not - " The description of that being a lot like you makes Byerly want to bristle. Colin doesn't know the half of him or who he is. What gives him any right to say what is or isn't like Byerly? But - But no time for that.

"That was her family. Blasted Nevarrans. I expect they'll be taking her home, to force her to marry the fool they chose for her, so they can keep her under control - " He hisses in frustration as much as pain when he shifts and the wound pulls. "But I don't know Nevarra. I don't know for sure. If we can't keep them from leaving the city - then maybe the Averesches would help. Maybe."

[keenly]

It’s what Byerly is like to Colin. How many favors has this man spent on his account?

“Lie still,” he insists again. “Anders has gone after her. No one knows the city better than he does, and he will never let them get away with her. Do you want me to contact anyone on the crystals?”

[bouchonne]

"Hell." He presses a hand to his eyes. It's a mistake; he leaves a smear of blood across them, one that he has to use the sleeve of his wedding-garb to clear from his lashes. He's quiet a moment, then says - "Yseult. If anyone would have the prospect of recovering her, it'd be her. Don't - " His voice goes sharper, and he looks up at Colin. "Don't bring the Averesches into it. Not yet. I truly don't know whose side they'd be on."

A long hesitation. Finally - "Alexandrie."

[keenly]

Colin gives an understanding nod before looking up into the crowd for someone he can trust. He reaches up to snatch Bastien’s sleeve with a bloody hand.

“Bastien! I need your help.”

[cozen]

Bastien is easily caught, on his way from a nebulous here to a nebulous there, trying to find a way to be useful. How convenient to be handed one, even if it does come with bloodstains on his sleeve.

"Of course," he says, and then freezes for a moment, looking down at Byerly on the floor. He's well enough acquainted with dying men to know he isn't one of them; he's well enough acquainted with puncture wounds and blood loss to understand how he might easily have been.

Mark it down as the first time he has considered magic more helpful than horrifying.

[bouchonne]

By, though, doesn't have much time or patience for being stared at like he's some half-rotted beggar on Denerim's dirtiest street. He grunts in annoyance at that look on Bastien's face, and reaches up his hand for assistance.

"Get me up," he orders. "I'm going to catch something I don't have yet from sitting here on this floor. Or give the floor something new. Stand me up."

[keenly]

“Don’t do that,” Colin says to Bastien. “You are to make sure that’s exactly the opposite of what happens. Keep him talking so you can monitor his alertness while I talk to a couple of people on the crystals. If anything changes, call for me.

“When I get back,” and he turns to Byerly, “if you are still doing well, we will see about sitting you up, slowly. You want me to tell Alexandrie to come here, right?”

Because if he wants to ask her to go looking for the woman she thinks he chose over her after giving her no warning about this wedding, Colin might leave him on the floor so she can kick his face afterward.

(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.

[tender]

It only occurs to Derrica after she's torn off after Anders that maybe she'd have been better off staying to try to make sure the groom wasn't dying. But at this point, it's far too late to change tactics. She's trailing after Anders, for better or for worse.

None of this exactly ideal. Too many pedestrians, not enough time to consider how best to head them off. Derrica doesn't know Kirkwall well enough to even consider trying to break away and plot an alternate route. So instead, she reaches for the next best thing.

Force magic is not her forte. Derrica would love it to be, and has tried very hard to teach herself, but good intentions don't always yield results.

"Oh, fuck—"

She misses the man carrying Sidony, which is probably a blessing for all involved. One unfortunate man goes flying forward, lands with a sickening crunch, and is probably trampled on by his comrades.

[indissection]

There's a moment where it seems like no one else is going to try and help them - the gambling hall is delightfully unamused and there's nothing more than the shouts of Sidony - who is trying her best to either bite or scream the ear off the person who has picked her up. No one seems inclined to stop, no matter the fire or the shouting or the promise of mages; Sidony is to be returned to her parents and given back to a betrothed waiting for her since she is most certainly not dead.

From the crowd comes the same curly haired man as before, moving to join the people chasing after the bride with wise, unsure eyes; it's as though he's not sure what to do with himself, torn between some kind of moral choice, whatever that might be.

"We must bring her back," he says, finally, voice low, and anyone looking close enough might note that he and Sidony have the exact same eyes.

[justice_is_blond]

"No, really?" Maybe if they weren't actually chasing after the group that had Sidony he'd be a little less sarcastic. Probably, even. But what does this guy think they're doing?

"Any actual ideas, any idea where they're headed, or are you today's Captain Obvious?" The resemblance is there, but it's not even needed. This guy showed up at the same time as the other people. He's maybe not exactly involved, but he's tied into this mess. There wouldn't be any other reason for him getting involved.

He casts, flinging up a wall of ice down one alleyway ahead of them only to have the running party turn down one he couldn't see down in time. At least they've got a couple of enemies down, and he's not running after this group alone. Heck, they even have a Mysterious Shadowy Helper up on the rooftops who is unfortunately too tall to be Varric.

https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/001/240/075/90f.png

[unshut]

Granted, it's not particularly long lived help. There are, it seems, limits to the range of a crossbow from some grotty old balcony (when wielded by A Shadowy Helper or otherwise). A last bolt striking the far wall of the alley over fleeing heads forces some stumbling and jostling, and then they and their pursuit are turning out of her sightline.

Click. The hand crossbow is reattached to the heavy ring at her belt, and then Fitcher withdraws. There are other routes worth putting eyes on. Best leave the chase to the especially ambitious or long legged.

[sulahnan]

It's a good thing Athessa decided to show up late to the wedding, instead of skipping it altogether. A win-win, since she doesn't have to be disappointed by the lack of free food or drink, and by the looks of things, she gets to help thwart a kidnapping!

Which she sees only because she was taking the same path as the kidnappers, in the opposite direction, just in time to hear the strike of the crossbow bolt, see the bad guys turning the corner, and then see the pursuing party.

"Wha--" It's not much time, but it's enough to take down the rear-most kidnapper. Athessa grabs the man by the arm, steering him so he hits the wall of the alley with the same momentum he was already running at.

She doesn't wait to see if he stays down before setting off after the others.

[tender]

Skidding past Athessa, Derrica has the breath to immediately impart: "They've stolen the bride."

While Derrica still doesn't know what to make of the marriage itself, she can safely say it's probably best if they return Sidony to her new husband. (Assuming he hasn't bled out already.)

[indissection]

"My sister," the man says, voice low and unsure, tilting his head to look at the way the men went. There's no way that he'll be able to catch up to them now, but he knows where they're going. The problem is, of course, that he never imagined that they might be so bold as to steal Sidony from her own nuptials, no matter how frustrated they were with her. If anything, he looks a level of angry that might match Anders and Byerly, should they be showing it.

"I did not think my mother would go this far, and yet here we stand." Frowning, he steps forward, gathering some strength in his shoulders. "The dock, perhaps. That is how we arrived, to collect her maid and belongings."