( 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.

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.

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.

[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?"

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.

[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."

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."

[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?"

[indissection]

"That sounds delightful. As long as I can be with you while you do it I shan't complain." Truly, she has no desire to; she wants to spend as much time in his company as she can, adoring him as much as she does. His companionship is more than good enough for her, no matter what he might say.

Sidony leans into the touch, eyes closing for a moment before she sighs. She's asking so much of him, so much, and all she can do is squeeze him, so thankful and so gentle all the same. The joy she feels is indescribable; he has given her a safety net, the kind no one else had offered.

Careful, she leans back.

"I do not mind at all." Her voice is just as gentle, just as soft. "I have never had any kind of desire for that kind of marriage and anyone unable to accept my friendship with you is unworthy of my time."

[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]

"Many who wouldn't accept that are quite reasonable, to my way of thinking," he murmurs, but - this is not a time for foolish self-indulgence such as that. All that matters is whether or not this is truly her will. And if it is -

He takes her hand. Takes a step back to look into her eyes. "Sidony, I will swear these oaths to you. And I swear them on my name, as dirty and dishonored as it is. I will never curtail your freedom. You will always have whatever you desire to pursue whatever you desire. If that is medicine, or a lover who captures your heart, or anything at all, everything I possess will be in service of your happiness. I promise you this."

[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."

[indissection]

"Not to me. They are not reasonable at all." Byerly has become too important for her to accept anyone who might not accept him as part of her life. Her family, her friends... None of them are going to matter to her if they cannot accept the person that is most important to her. He is like her brother, truly, but at the same time...

The touch to her hand has her pausing and she breathes out, her eyes widening. If there are tears she hopes that he doesn't mention it - or, at least, makes some kind of joke about it.

"Darling," she says, voice soft and gentle. "I swear the same. I swear that I will do all that I can to give you happiness, that I will give you anything that I might be able to offer. I will be the most dutiful of wives, no matter how much of a farce this marriage might be. I will -" a breath, "- I will be the best friend I can be to you. I do love you, dearest, in all the ways that I am able."

[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]

He's already shaking his head. "I cannot think of anything that would bring me less pleasure than you being dutiful." His smile is wry as he touches his fingertip (gently) to the tip of her nose. "All I wish is for you to burn down anyone who stands in the way of your happiness. And for you to grant me the pleasure of hearing you make those catty little comments of yours. I do admire your nastiness ever so."

He drops his hand, then, and lets out a breath. Farce marriage or no, he still must come clean about this. So. Have courage. "There's - one last thing I should tell you. You should know - I have...duties...beyond those that Riftwatch gives me. I'm telling you this in confidence, just in case it...affects any decisions. I will follow my obligations to you. But - at times - if my other duties demand it, then I will have to serve."

No, this is all muddled and unclear. He lets out a breath, and finally says, blunt as he can - "I spy for Ferelden. So - just - be aware."

[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?”

(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.

[indissection]

The fact that he is standing here in front of her, so willing to give up so much for her, makes Sidony feel as though she might be able to fly. There's a rather pained lump in her throat that she can't ignore, and she leans closer, letting herself touch him, letting herself stroke a hand against his arm and feel the sheer joy of knowing that she has found a place where someone is truly willing to cherish her as she has always wanted. Byerly is... So much more than she had ever felt as though she might deserve.

"If my nastiness pleases you then we shall do it. I shall stand at your side and show you just how catty I can be." Tilting her head, she watches, frowning for a moment. It's not as though she can shame him for secrets; she is the one dissecting bodies, she is the one who wishes to be arms deep in a dead soldier to learn more of its nature.

The revelation does make her pause, blinking, before she purses her lips and nods.

"Very well," leaning up, she kisses his cheek. "When your duties take you from me then I will gladly wait for you to come back, likely with wine in hand."

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."

[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.