A show, Darrian reflected with very little humour, seemed to be the right word for it. He had hoped for stealth, but they had seemingly captured the entire alienage’s attention unwaveringly. He was certain that they had just about given the elves present enough food for gossip to last them for weeks. As Dolain’s face darkened in fury, Darrian couldn’t help a wince, partly because of the very public humiliation the gang leader was being subjected to by his lover, but partly because this – all this – was such a huge waste of time.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t sympathise with Dolain - whatever the other elf’s faults (and he knew there were many) – such a showy disgraceful dismissal repelled Darrian. Surely such things were better handled in private, no matter the reason. Being challenged by the tiny dwarf girl Falina made her courageous – being so shamefully rebuked by Lalin was a different matter. But this was really not the time, nor the place for him to interfere. All he could hope for was that this would blow over fast and they could get back to business.
He glanced at Davin at the other elf’s soft questions, looking momentarily down at his feet, his boots scuffed, dusty from the uneven, dirty ground that the elven kids played in. How different, he thought absently, from what he was used to at the Pearl. But no matter how comfortable he got, he would never be able to escape his roots, it was evident. “I could ask the same of you,” he responded finally, lifting his head to fix dark eyes on Davin’s face, his expression somewhat shuttered. “What are you doing back here, Davin?” His friend had left to travel, and he had thought for sure that the other elf would have met some lovely maid in another alienage and settled down for good.
He glanced again at Dolain as the gang leader’s voice rose, angrily addressing the Grey Warden who strode away from him without a backward glance. “He’s…helping me out,” the elf murmured, staring somewhat helplessly at the drama unfolding right in front of him. He looked back at Davin, wanting to tell him about slavers – but with everyone’s eyes on them, with the little urchins staring wide mouthed at Dolain’s tirade, sneaking closer for a better look – it didn’t seem like the best time.
He listened to Dolain’s furious tirade, slowly growing more and more bewildered. Healing the guilty shem with magic? Dead elves and shem? This went much, much deeper than he’d thought. When Dolain strode away, only to call him to his side, Darrian glanced back at Davin, torn. But his duty was clear. The thought of roping in Davin to help with the hunt didn’t even occur to him – Davin had never seemed particularly good with weapons, and he was unarmed – he wasn’t about to drag him along on such a potentially dangerous mission. If it went wrong he’d be practically handing them the helpless songbird on a platter.
“Davin, I’m sorry, but this is really important,” he said, his voice half pleading as if begging the other elf to understand. “We’ll catch up later.” Darrian turned away, before hesitating and turning back to his old friend. “Just…be careful,” he added, placing a hand on Davin’s arm momentarily. “Don’t trust anyone in this city, not unless you’ve known them for your entire life, shem or elf alike. There are snakes around, and you’re just the kind of target they’d love to snap up.”
After that veiled warning, Darrian turned away, walking fast to fall into line with Dolain. He glanced at the furious elf next to him, wondering if he was going to be able to focus on their mission now, or if he would be better off breaking off alone. “Dolain, what happened with the shem?” he asked seriously, unable to ignore the topic any longer, ready to listen to the other elf’s story without any prejudice if Dolain would even speak of it. Somewhere at the back of his mind he toyed with the idea of suggesting they involve Lalin in the hunt, but with the recent fight, it seemed like it would slow them down more rather than help them.