Chapter 2:
The next six days passed in a crawl. Ellana practically itched with boredom, tapping her foot every moment she was unoccupied. Finally, though, the ball was tomorrow night; and despite Sera's complaints and her mother's constant nattering, Ellana was choking with excitement. She'd never attended an event so spectacular, or star studded, despite living only a short distance from Halamshiral her whole life. She'd only been there once, as an eleven year old on her way to the Bennett home from a Fereldan orphanage.
The capital city was massive, sparkling and tremendous. Golden spires towered above it, slicing through the sky, reaching for the heavens. Skyscrapers climbed the air, painted in bold colors, and decorated with shimmering stained glass windows that cast their hues onto every surface the light touched. Blues and reds and startling gold shone in the sun during the day, while at night the entire city was lit by strings of lights, draped over walkways and wrapped around the buildings themselves; like a million fireflies trapped in tiny glass jars, watching over the curling alleys and broad avenues.
Lydes was not Halamshiral, but the ball was glamorous beyond what her imagination could conceive. Through various gossip channels she'd seen the spectacular clothes worn to it every year, and once she and Jane had even waited outside with a crowd of uninvited hopefuls, eager to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or worm their way into the function. They'd all been disappointed, of course. Security was top priority at events like this, and the velvet rope behind which they gathered was guarded by men and women in slick black suits, their faces obscured by sunglasses.
Through the bustle of the crowd, they hadn't even been able to see the limousines as they pulled up, or the flash of the cameras as each guest arrived. Before long the writhing mass of people had shoved them to the very back, and they were unable to breach the wall of bodies, finally settling for watching live coverage of the arrivals on Jane's tiny phone screen as they shuffled home.
Ellana stumbled, nearly dropping the tray of drinks she carried as she zoned out. She regained her balance just in time, but a glass still teetered dangerously close to the edge, ready to tip off and shatter against the dingy bar floor. Her eyes widened, her free hand flying up to steady it, but someone beat her there. A massive, calloused hand closed around the glass, stilling it.
"Woah there, Boss," The Iron Bull boomed in his deep voice, a half-grin plastered to his face. "Want me to take that for you?"
He glanced at the tray, rubbing his huge stubbled jaw. Bull was a Qunari, and one of the oldest friends she had. He was dressed in faded jeans and a tight black t-shirt that read The Tipsy Lantern and displayed the bar's logo; a crooked oil lamp with the latch hanging open. His proud horns were bedecked with strings of beads, and a single wilting daisy tied to the tip of one by its stem. She grinned back at him, wrinkling her nose at the nickname. She may have technically been the one to hire him, but she wasn't in any real position of authority.
"No, no," she threw him a wink, before sidestepping his giant body. "If V catches me slacking I'll be fired for sure. Then you'll be stuck with only Dorian for company."
Bull laughed, a full-bodied rumble that shook his broad shoulders; the idea that their employer would fire any of them was truly absurd. She hurried past him, giggling as she swooped toward table six to lighten her load. The patrons took the drinks without so much as glancing at her, raucously toasting some celebration. She didn't mind being ignored, honestly. It was better than the reception she sometimes got when people noticed the points of her ears.
Bull faced worse daily, she knew, and the thought boiled her blood. The casual way some slant-mouthed drunken bastards would hiss "beast" or "dirty ox" as he passed. It made her want to break their damn liquor glasses over their heads. Bull never paid them any mind, though, and most of the time they went back to drowning their livers in booze when they saw they wouldn't get a reaction.
Their employer, though, never stood for that sort of behavior. If Bull, or any of his employees or patrons were being harassed, the perpetrators would find themselves being politely asked to leave, from the business end of a crossbow. Even when he wasn't around, people tended to mind their tongues when visiting the Lantern.
The place was packed tonight; with the weekend finally around the corner, everyone was dancing, cheering and clinking glasses. The dim lighting ranged from yellow-orange over the booths and tables, to the blue and pink of the neon signs that hung by the bar. A band of bards played in one corner, a vivacious fiddle rising over the cacophony of voices that sang along, and the claps and stomping of feet as guests kept time.
Ellana loved the live music, even if it wasn't what they usually played this late on a Friday. It brought the place to life; the energy was tangible in the air, the thrum of the rhythm catching like a fire. As though of its own accord, her foot started tapping, a smile tickling her lips. She lifted the now empty tray above her head, spinning on the spot and skipping back toward the bar, where a few regulars sat nursing drinks alone.
Dorian was there behind it, and she sidled up next to him, discarding the tray as she playfully bumped her hip to his. He wore the same work shirt as the rest of them, though he somehow managed to make it look posh. His hair was swept back in an artfully styled swoop, his lips plush and lovely under his carefully waxed moustache. He never left the house looking less than dashing, and despite him being gay as a three-crown note, Ellana remained just a tiny bit in love with him. It was sort of impossible not to be.
"Someone's in a particularly lovely mood this evening," he said, his smooth voice matching his quaffed appearance. "A touch excited, are we?"
She stuck her tongue out at him, grabbing his hand and raising it over her head to twirl herself in a graceful circle.
"It's Friday," she tossed him a sidelong smile, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm always in a good mood on Friday."
"Ha!" Dorian tipped his head back, showing off his perfect jawline as he let out a laugh. "You are possibly my gloomiest friend, darling. Not that I'm complaining about this sudden rise in your spirits. I usually have to ply you with liquor before you'll dance with me."
"Yes, well, your friends are all unnaturally cheerful," she replied, flipping a strand of her long hair over her shoulder. "Maybe I just play the grouch for free drinks."
"My dear, you wound me," he pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Me, charge a beauty like you for a few glasses of the good stuff? Perish the thought."
"Why don't you put that bottle where your mouth is, then?" Ellana said, eyeing the single malt on the shelf behind him.
"Your wish is my command." He replied dutifully, grabbing the bottle in his hand and tossing it behind his back, catching and spinning it against his elbow before letting it roll gently down to his palm. Ellana cackled with delight, never tiring of watching his tricks.
He handed her a heavy pour of the whiskey, which she took gratefully, tipping the glass against her mouth with relish. The warm sting of it was liquid flame running down her throat, sending pleasant tingles through her belly. Her playfully flirtatious relationship with Dorian came with its benefits, though truthfully she'd adore him either way. He was the only person who could always make her smile.
"Gonna need another round of margaritas for table nine." Bull called to them, approaching the bar with an empty tray of his own.
"Ah, yes," Dorian said, already gathering the glasses and shaker cup. "Well, no rest for the wicked."
Hours later, Ellana clung to Dorian's arm as they stumbled down the street drunkenly cackling, supporting each other with their heads tilted together. Bull sauntered along beside them, occasionally steadying one of them with a huge hand on their shoulder. He was the closest to sober of the three of them, considering his massive tolerance to alcohol.
Ellana took note of the flirtatious glances passing back and forth between them, but said nothing. The boys had been dancing around their mutual attraction the whole time they'd worked together, both unsure that the other felt the same way. Eventually they were bound to wind up tangled in each other's arms, or sheets, but she wasn't going to rush them. She pressed her lips together, biting back her grin at the way Bull's eyes softened as they traveled over Dorian's face.
She and Dorian slumped down on a wooden bench, Bull standing for fear that his weight would snap it into toothpicks. Dorian kicked a foot out, playfully nudging at Bull's thigh, and Bull caught it with one hand, retying the laces on his boot that had apparently come undone while they walked.
"Huh," Dorian mumbled, noting the untied shoe. "Would you look at that. Always coming to my rescue, you are. I could've tripped and died."
Ellana snickered, slapping him on the shoulder for his dramatics, but Bull's mouth only quirked into a half-grin.
"It's self preservation, really," he finished tying the knot and tucked Dorian's leg back to his side, hand lingering on his knee for just a moment before he pulled it away. "With you gone I'd have to learn all those flippy tricks you do with the drinks. I'd probably lose a month of paychecks paying for the smashed bottles."
"I am utterly irreplaceable, darling." Dorian yawned, leaning his head into the crook of Ellana 's neck. The surge of warmth that bubbled through her made her grin, loopy and happy.
Through her hazy vision and the brightly colored lights of the city all swimming together, Ellana spied the yellow of a cab as it rolled toward them. Bull flagged it down, then looped an arm around both of them, hoisting them up from the bench with ease. He herded them into the back of the vehicle before giving the driver their addresses, and instructing him to get them home safe. The colorful blur of the lights whooshed by as they started moving, setting them adrift in their own, brilliant dream.
It was almost like magic.
