[2.1] The City

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"Tell me why we're here."

"No."

Standing in the shadows outside a rowdy tavern, Aryial tugged at a tall hooded male to follow her.

"If you really want to know then you'll have to come with me." She gave him a slightly forceful shove for emphasis, the movement causing his hood to fall off to reveal shoulder-length snowy hair.

Ivan gave her a frosty look, straightening the lapels on his jacket underneath his cloak before following her into the rather renowned alehouse.

It was famous for its water-downed ale and musty atmosphere.

The dimly-lit tavern was more packed than Aryial expected, the reek almost made her decide that she regretted leaving the manor.

A drunken faerie fell over as he sang lewd lyrics to music played by a band in the corner, the noise a notable rival to the chatter and robust laughter of the patrons.

She headed straight towards the bar. Doubting they had any refined drinks like the ambrosia that both her and her companion were used to, she signalled for two tankards of ale.

Ivan followed her, if not begrudgingly, his regal stance attracting a few curious looks from nearby patrons.

"Tell me what we are doing here." His voice was low. Flat. Annoyed.

Aryial grimaced, sipping a bit of the watered down ale.

"I think you know..." She was suddenly extremely interested in a bit of chipped wood on her tankard.

Ivan kept looking at her.

She grimaced again, not at all surprised at his flat reaction. Knowing what he was nonverbally asking, she made quick work of the explanation. Though her words and reasoning fumbled as she tried to convince both Ivan and herself that this was just as riveting as what she had expected.

"So I thought since drinking in a pub together was on our list of things to do here from when we were kids, that you would relent and loosen up but of course I had to get you out first so obviously there is no real emergency and I know it's not exactly how I imagined it but—" Aryial's nervous blabbering cut off as a crash sounded from across the room.

­­A brawl had broken out after a tense game of cards.

There were enough curse words to curdle milk as other patrons got involved, though Aryial couldn't see much once Ivan moved in front of her.

To block her view or to block her from view, she didn't know.

When Ivan turned around to face her, upper lip curled back in disgust, Aryial decided that she did regret leaving the manor.

No complaints left her lips as Ivan slapped a gold coin on the bar table for the ale, grabbed her wrist and half-dragged her out of the pitiful place.

The light leaking out the windows of the tavern did little to illuminate the dark cobblestone path as Ivan whirled around to face Aryial.

"Why did you want to go to a tavern all of a sudden?" Ivan seemed to be holding his anger on a tight tether.

"I just wanted to spend some time with you," Aryial mumbled, her own anger rising at his tone. "You seemed stressed earlier so I thought a drink would help."

"So, you thought you would trick me into coming to a tavern with you?" His disapproval couldn't have been more clear if he had screamed it into the night sky.

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