Chapter Text
The Cobbled Swan was filling up nicely for the evening. Dock workers, fisherman, templars, and even Venatori all gathered to enjoy a drink or three and listen to some live entertainment. A few gathered in a quiet corner where patrons set up a high-stake card game. Coin clinked on tables, fists full of cards were tossed, tankards were emptied and filled again. Nothing out of the ordinary on this night.
That is until two women, an elf and a human, began speaking in raised voices, the argument drawing passing glances from servers and patrons alike. One in particular, seated quietly at the end of the bar, looked on intently, having been watching the pair for a few hours already. The taller of the two, whom she had known for several years, sat with prim posture. Not a strand of brown hair out of place, not a speck of dirt on her white garb. The elf on the other hand was less familiar to the lurker, rich dark skin contrasted blue eyes and white face markings. She was a wildcard; unpredictable, volatile, and utterly fascinating.
When both parties stood quickly from their table, the elf knocked their wooden chair backwards by the force in which she moved. The onlooker watched with rapt interest, smirking, discreetly adjusting the hood covering their head and raised their glass, delicately sipping the wine as they watched the pair exchange more words, unheard among the bustle of the Swan. Then suddenly, the taller of the two took a tankard from the table and, with a twist of her wrist, she threw the contents into the face of her companion, audible gasps filling the bar. Bubbly liquid drenched the elf, the watcher snickering into their glass.
The elven woman drew a wavy dagger from somewhere on their belt and plunged it into the table where she and her companion were sat moments before. It was so quick that the onlooker jumped in their stool, heart ticking up in speed. The noise in the bar became quiet then, everyone stopping to see who would move next, the pair regarding each other with matching glares.
"Here we go..." The woman in white said with a roll of her eyes, her voice audible now that the bar had fallen to silence. "This tough act is getting to be rather tiresome."
Her companion's expression twisted in a snarl, blue eyes hard as ice. "I'll tell you what's tiresome: your awful mouth."
"Really?" She smirked, advancing a step on the elf. A metallic thunk was discernible against the wood floor of the pub. "It wasn't long ago that you liked my awful mouth."
"That time's over," the elf bit back. "You made sure of that."
"Well, I think I'm better off." She gestured vaguely to the shorter woman, addressing the crowd gathered around them with a sneer of laughter. "Too much drama."
The watcher could see a twitch in the eye of the elven as the bar patrons murmured around them. Her fist clenched, opening and closing several times, perhaps considering whether or not to retaliate. The taller woman took the decision from her when she reached out with her hand and shoved the elf's shoulder hard. She stumbled back into a table, the glassing falling to the ground with a crash.
"Touch me again and I'll-"
"You'll what?" Another step and another thump against the floor. She shoved again, both hands making contact with her chest.
The elf grunted but let herself be pushed a second time. The crowd gave them a wide berth now, folks pushing to the edge of the bar. A few had even made their way to the exits. The observer smiled. The taller woman made a move to strike the elf once more, but this time she reacted. The elf slapped the oncoming hands away and used the opening to grab a fist full of the ascot tied around the woman's neck, drawing her in close. She growled, full showing of teeth accompanied her narrowing eyes. The watcher leaned forward to try and get a better look when they saw the gleam of slender stiletto knife, the tip just barely pressed under the elf's chin.
"I'd suggest you let go of me."
It was the elf's turn to shove the taller woman then, using her grip on the fabric of the ascot to create distance. The observer thought that might be the end of the incident until the elf suddenly wound her arm back and cracked an open palm against the dark-haired woman's cheek. The momentum of the impact spun her around as the stumbled, chest colliding with an empty table behind her. The onlooker had a decent view from the bar, and could clearly see how the woman's face twisted in a rage, fists clenched on the wood in front of her. They felt a rush of magic seeping in through the veil, a sly grin pulling at their lips as they felt the temperature in the room drop significantly.
The dark-haired woman spun around, her palms open as she conjured a blast of frost towards her elven companion. The onlooker caught a glimpse of surprised blue eyes before she raised her hands up to block the attack with a magic burst of her own. Light flashed, and the ground beneath them shook as two schools of magic collided. The elf, unprepared, faltered first and took the brunt of the icy gale to her chest. It seemed to pack quite a punch too, the shorter woman was pushed off her feet and launched backwards, her body grazing an empty table before sliding onto the wooden floor with a grunt. The patrons that were left took several steps away to avoid the broken glass, splintering wood, and residual frost magic. Curiously, none moved to help.
The bartender, who had been content to watch the altercation until this point, leaned over the counter with a large mallet in his hand. It made contact with the surface several times as he commanded attention. He had a dark beard trimmed short, with thick eyebrows to match. "Oi!" He gestured with the weapon to the woman in white. "Gallus! You know the rules: no magic in the bar!"
Neve Gallus turned from where she stood, a confused expression flickered on her face before being replaced with a mask of indifference. The observer turned her head momentarily, facing away from the commotion.
"Apologies, Roy." Neve snapped her fingers at one of the patrons, then pointed to the elf still groaning on the floor. The man hurried forward, pushing the elf onto her back with his foot before leaning down to pick something from her belt. When he stood again he held a coin pouch, tossing it to Gallus who then threw it onto the bar top. "For damages."
The bartender grunted in thanks. "You pricks can leave any time now."
The corner of Neve's mouth twitched and flicked her wrist in circular motion. A few of the remaining patrons gathered around, the watcher realizing now that these were not customers, but bodyguards. The Threads.
Two them manhandled the elf, grabbing her arms and wrenching her up to stand none too gently. The watcher could see a small cut on the elf's brow, blood painting her face. She fought back of course, the watcher knew she would and was enthralled by the fury that radiated outwards, coating the very air around them. She managed to get her right arm free and immediately threw a punch across her own body straight into the face of the Thread holding her left. There was an audible crackling and a spark of light when she made contact, her fist appeared to be charged with electricity. Immediately crouching into a quick squat, the elf dodged the retaliatory swing from the Thread to the right, and used the upward motion of standing to to land an uppercut into their jaw.
Seemingly undisturbed by the commotion, Neve Gallus remained still, even as one of her "guards" attempted to grapple the elf from behind and ended up being tossed over her shoulder right at the mage's feet. Without even a glance, Neve just examined the non-existent dirt underneath her fingernails, waiting.
Eventually one of the more bulky Threads managed to subdue the furious elf. The heavy had her pinned to their own body, one huge arm around her neck, and the other around her waist, immobilizing both of her arms. The observer could see a knife pressed flat against the elf's neck, which finally got the attention of Neve.
"Enough," Neve ordered, voice booming in the now quiet space. "Get her out of here already."
The Thread team made no attempt to escort the elf with dignity, and she had no choice but to be dragged along, toes scraping the ground as she fought for purchase to right her stance.
"Wait," Neve said firmly as they stopped in front of her. The lurker leaned to the edge of their stool, watching the exchange with bated breath.
Given the brawl, they were surprised when Neve appeared to be reaching out in a tender manner. The mage gently tapped the elf's cheek two times before she slapped her instead, drawing an unexpected snicker of laughter from the watcher, thankfully unheard among the audible strike. If they exchanged words before that, the watcher did not hear.
"Clean yourself up," Neve spoke loudly now, nodding to her Threads. "You're pathetic, Rook."
Rook turned her head and spat on the ground. Blood most likely, the red tinge on her lips spilled down her chin, shining even in the dim lighting. "Fuck you," The watcher was practically giddy as the Threads resumed their task, pulling the elf towards the door.
"You wish."
As the elf was dragged away, her cries of rageful protest became distant and eventually silenced all together once the Threads threw her down the landing of the Swan and onto the cobblestone street outside. The bartender followed the trio for the purpose of shouting onto the street, telling the elf not to return, she imagined.
The lurker tried to catch sight of Neve Gallus, but it appeared she had slipped out through the secondary exit, no doubt trying to avoid any sort of attention regarding what dozens of civilians just witnessed. The bartender returned, pulling a towel from their belt and mopping the counter top. The servers moving to clean up the mess of glass, wood, and various fluids.
"Bloody hell," the bartender said absently. "Picking a fight with Neve Gallus? What kind of idiot does that?"
Tipping her wineglass and draining the contents, Aelia smiled. An idiot who's vulnerable.