Backscene: A Cry Unanswered Who: Davin Athirus and Ordhan Wyland Where: Denerim Alienage When: 9:30 Summary: Following tragedy in the Alienage, Davin requests the aid of a certain guard. Rating: T Status: In progress
One needed only to follow the sounds of music and laughter to find the wedding. All of the Alienage had gathered, it seemed; any chance to celebrate was eagerly seized by the downtrodden elves. The fact that everyone liked the Tabrises was just a bonus.
Davin was fairly bursting with pride, for he had saved his coppers for months and months in order to buy a new tunic. Well, it wasn’t exactly new-- the woman who sold it to him had dressed her four children in it before they outgrew it -- but as far as clothes went in the Alienage, it was still quite nice. It was a pale blue, like the sky, and even had the shape of a flower embroidered over the breast.
A blonde head drifted over the crowd, heading his direction. Markus appeared a moment later, and the grin that formed when he saw Davin was somewhat alarming.
“Davin,” he said, draping his arm over the boy’s scrawny shoulders, “That’s a fine tunic you have there.”
Davin beamed. “Thank you.”
Markus lowered his head and whispered, “Too bad it’s a girl’s coat.”
“What?! It is not!”
“Just look at that color. Men don’t wear that color. And the flower! Good gravy, Davin. It’s got a flower sewn on it and you don’t think it’s a girl’s?”
Davin darted a glance down at his tunic and his cheeks flamed crimson. Markus was right. Suddenly he didn’t feel so handsome or dashing, in spite of his freshly-scrubbed face and clean, shiny hair. Oh, Maker! He would get beaten up twice as much if the boys knew he was running around in girls’ clothes. He had to get home!
Markus chuckled and placed a gentle but heavy hand on Davin’s back, propelling him to the front of the crowd and ignoring his many protests. “Better view up here, don’t you think?”
It was a better view, he had to admit. He could even smell the faint fragrance of freshly-cut flowers. Davin crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover the brightly-embroidered flower. It didn’t work. Why did he buy this stupid thing, anyway?
His flustered musings over his clothing were cut short by the sound of raucous laughter. A group of human men, all seeming impossibly large and strong and rich, were shoving their way into the crowd.
The man leading the way seemed to be the youngest of the lot, his features simply oozing aristocracy. But there was nothing noble in his expression. His eyes gleamed with a perverse sort of light, and the smile that curled his lips was not friendly. Waving his men forward, he locked his eyes on the woman nearest him: Shianni. “Everybody, grab a whore!”
The humans didn’t need to be told twice. Hands grabbed, clothes tore, and cries pierced the air. Nobody fought. Nobody stopped the men as they led, shoved, or carried the women away. Davin tried to run after them, but Markus stopped him, and there was nothing gentle in his touch this time.
“Markus!” It didn’t seem to matter that he was yelling, since everyone else was, too. The whole square was a confused, weepy, angry mess. Davin pounded at the hands that held him in place. “You should have stopped them! You could have taken them all! You just stood there!”
Markus tightened his grip until Davin stopped struggling and let out a low whimper of pain. “Listen, Davin,” said Markus, his voice low. “It wouldn’t have helped them. You wouldn’t have helped them, either. We’re going to get our women back but we’ll have to do it carefully, you understand? Look, what you need to do is go back home and stay there until I get back. Alright?”
Still gritting his teeth, Davin nodded. He didn’t meet his brother’s eyes.
Markus didn’t let go, but his grip gentled. “If all our men go running off, then that will leave the rest of the Alienage unprotected. You need to stay here to make sure everything will be alright. You need to promise, Davin.”
“I promise,” he mumbled, looking up at Markus just long enough to satisfy him.
Markus was gone in an instant, off to join a huddled group of young, burly elves. Some already had weapons in their hands.
As soon as the men were out of sight, Davin took off running towards the gates as fast as his legs could carry him. By the time he reached the bridge, he was wheezing and his legs were burning.
“Ordhan! Ordhan!” he yelled before he even saw the young soldier standing in the guardhouse. “Ordhan! We need your help!”