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Taverns commonly served as the beating heart of a town, a place of community and fellowship to gather after a long day of labor. Yet, even in the parts of Ferelden that the darkspawn horde had not yet ravaged, the rot of the Blight still tainted. Waves of refugees had passed through the township the party had stopped in, bringing tales of horror, death, and destruction as they fled for the larger population centers in the Coastlands.
Unfamiliar faces filled the tavern to bursting, marred by fear and woe, flaring the anxieties of even the most jovial patrons. Leliana thought it was her duty as a bard to try to disperse some of the gloom, and the bartender had been only too happy to let the redhead pull out her lute and strike up a tune. It had helped some, bringing smiles to drawn faces and encouraging some folk to imbibe more drink.
Elyssa tapped her foot to the catchy song Leliana was currently strumming. She had always loved to dance back in the day. The footwork of a rogue and dancing merged into one, and came naturally to her as breathing. She thought it would be strange to spring into a jig right in the middle of a tavern though. So she sat at the table they’d procured, listening to Wynne regale the group with her tale of some brave Grey Warden she’d met back in her younger days of travel between circles, when one of her fellow wardens returned with drinks.
“Got pints for everyone.” Gwen Amell smiled, her earring twinkling in the bright light. She broke up the monotony and slid tankards to her companions. Elyssa gratefully tapped her cup in cheers to her sister warden before she drank deep to keep the weariness from her bones, her foot still tapping to Leliana’s lively tunes. “Where’s Alistair?”
Gwen smirked as she took a smaller sip of her mead, her brown eyes dancing in knowing. She jutted her chin towards the bar and chuckled. “Poor Oghren is holding him, Sten, and the bartender hostage as he tries to encourage them to participate in a drinking contest with one of his intrepid tavern tales from Orzammar.”
The dwarf's booming voice carried across the tavern, the words only slurring slightly as he wiped drops of amber mead from his red beard. Sten sat with his usual stern stare and arms crossed, as Alistair ducked his head, running his hand through his hair in embarrassment. He tried to get up as Oghren took another deep drink straight from a pitcher of spirits, but the drawf pulled him back down with a firm hand on his arm.
Elyssa and Gwen laughed at their antics, enjoying one of the few nights they could partake in the comforts of a roof over their heads and food they didn’t have to rummage up themselves. “Mayhap you should rescue him?” Gwen wiggled a brow.
Elyssa glanced away, feeling the heat spreading across her cheeks. “I doubt I could devise a good excuse to free him from a drunk Oghren’s clutches.”
“My songbird has strummed up a bonny tune.” Gwen nodded to Leliana. “I can’t dance with her, but it would be a shame if no one enjoyed her music.” The mage glanced at the bard, and some unspoken communication passed between them. Leliana then changed song, striking up a tune Elyssa had always loved to dance her favorite quickstep to.
The rogue sighed as she narrowed her eyes at the mage. “I know what you’re doing…I can’t strong-arm him by dancing in front of a tavern.”
“He gave you a rose and stares across camp at you whenever you aren’t looking!” Gwen groaned. “Please put him and all of us out of our misery and make your claim on him, because he’s far too shy!”
“Not all of us are as bold as you and Leliana!” Elyssa rolled her eyes.
“You like his courtly little chase as a lady, but his sighs and moaning have gotten old for the rest of us!” Gwen put a hand on Elyssa’s elbow. “So if you will not be persuaded to have mercy on him this night, I shall persuade him to end this song and dance of yours!”
Elyssa yelped in surprise as Gwen yanked her to her feet, a deceptive strength in the mage's slender frame. A smile crossed her face as Gwen’s arms came around her and she swept her up into a lively quickstep to Leliana’s music. Life confined to a Circle Tower had mages study all sorts of pursuits, including dancing, so they didn’t wither away. Gwen twirled Elyssa about better than any lordling had in the years of balls and salons her parents had dragged her to. The pair laughed as they got lost in the music and inspired other patrons to rise and join in the dancing as well, bringing back an echo of the merriment to the tavern that the Blight had stolen away.
Gwen even leaned in and picked Elyssa on the cheek as one song ended and another began, before glancing back at her lover and them sharing a scheming grin. Soon after, Alistair found the courage to tear himself from Oghren and cut in to claim Elyssa for the next dance.
Elyssa knew he’d not be as graceful a partner as Gwen, but her heart picked up as his larger hand closed in around her own. “I snuck into a few parties back at Redcliffe, but never had the grace to woo the ladies.” He half smiled and grimaced. “Forgive me if I step on your toes once or twice.”
“Always.” Elyssa squeezed his hand as she guided his arms into place around her. She didn’t laugh quite as much as they took their turn about the dance floor, as she did with Gwen, because she was too busy staring up at him, grinning like a fool. Green met hazel, and she felt understood and safe. He just gave her that self-deprecating half-grin back. As the music ended, Elyssa couldn’t resist; she leaned and grabbed his face, bringing his lips down to hers. His arms already around her, Alistair pulled her closer as he returned the kiss. Gwen and Leliana smirked in the background as they clinked their drinks together, their mission complete.