The Tavern
The Mayor stood at the front of the room, facing the gathering crowd with a face of stone. This serious, solemn expression rarely found its place on the face of the grand jolly man. But today- in this meeting- he had to inform the village of a heinous crime- one that could tip the gentle balance of peace into fear. By his side stood the Doctor- who had been implored to remain at home- but the man was much too grief stricken
not to come to the meeting. His eyes were red and his clothes were carelessly thrown on- he was a man bereft with a sea of emotions- fear, anger, grief and despair.
The crowd before them whispered. Of bandits and black magic. Of the others that had been taken and returned mere shells of themselves. Women were crying- for they grieved for the beautiful young woman that nursed their children back to health. The men were enraged- for they feared for the safety of their own daughters. Young men- no doubt the bulk of them being her suitors- began to pledge their lives for search parties. The Doctor was moved by the love the townspeople expressed for his daughter. For his Ali-girl...
"Thank you for coming today- people of Vale." Began the Mayor, signaling the beginning of the meeting. Obediently the townspeople hushed, all attentive to what the Mayor knew of the situation and his decree to rectify it.
"Last night- while we all slept- Alixanna Ashgrave was taken from her home. How the capturers did this is unknown. Who did such a horrible thing is unknown. From one eye witness we have learned that a couple by a cart departed at an odd hour into the Angar- it is unknown if the cart held goods or in fact our Alixanna.
I implor you, people of Vale, to come foreward with any information that you can provide to make our search easier. We have sent out a search party comprised of the finest rangers to comb the forest for her. They will not stop until Alixanna is returned to the safety of her family.
Many of you have come foreward and expressed your opinions on who could have possibly done this- we lack the evidence for such claims but will keep these suggestions in mind. I, as a mayor, bid no one to risk their lives out in the Angar- but as a father... I would not rest until my daughter was returned to me.
In conclusion- whatever help you may be able to provide would be greatly appreciated. Amassing supplies for those in the search party for their undetermined time out in the forest. Helping the carpenter fortify the walls of our town and the homes that we reside in. A prayer service will be held at the chantry for those seeking solace from such a disturbing occurrence. Prayers to the Ashgrave family would be most appreciated as well. I thank you and, as your mayor, conclude this meeting."
The earlier uneasiness of the town tilted more toward organized panic- they began to rush about and out of the tavern toward places of employment. Some remained behind, seeking any other way to assist the cause or speak with the mayor. The doctor slumped in a chair and looked numbly at the table before him. Marion Dawnleaf settled a frothing mug of ale before him and patted him on the shoulder. She knew the grief of losing a child all too well. For the first time in 8 years the Doctor drank.
~~~
Earlier, up in one of the taverns rooms before the meeting, Ezra sat up in bed. The blanket fell away from him, exposing his naked body. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and looked about the room. An empty wineskin lay on the floor- accompanied by a bottle or two strewn about across the room. His clothes made a trail around the bed, joined by those of someone else. Through his hazy thoughts memories of the night before flooded his mind.
He shifted on the bed so he faced a sleeping Varric. With his eyes he took in the feminine features of his body- free of the illusion magic used during the day. Gently he leaned down and kissed his shoulder- an affection shared between lovers and not friends. Before slipping out of bed and snagging his pants from their crumpled place on the floor. He tugged these on and tied them about his waist. Humming the tune they'd made up the night before- belonging to a song about a one-legged prostitute who beat the men that wouldn't pay with her wooden leg.
Ezra looked about for his shoes. He found one by the door- where he had thrown it last night when a drunkard came knocking, asking them to quiet down. For the song or the sex- he couldn't remember. In fact there were a number of things he couldn't recall before arriving at the tavern. These lapses in memory were beginning to disturb him.
He turned toward the bed and sat down beside Varric- his bare back to him. The man combed his hair with his hands- he was surprised he still had some considering how hard Varric had pulled his brown curls last night. Let it be known he wasn't complaining- he actually liked being abused.
As he felt Varric beginning to stir again he looked back at him over his shoulder. He tried to be calm- really, he did- but godsdamn he just had sex. So he couldn't help but smile and tilt his head at the other man,
"Morning- sleep well? Please say no. Say that you're sore as hell- I'll love you for it." He joked although lets be honest- not so secretly he meant it.
