A Princess, a Knight, and an Assassin Walk Into a Tavern...

Beau

"Well, that was a turn of events I wasn't expecting." Beau blinked a few times.
The mouse haired scout had burst out from nowhere, gasping and wheezing, holding up his hand in front of him before she could advance with Captain West and Ser Hawke. He had stopped and stood to try and say something, before dropped over again to regain his breath. Everyone stood in apprehension each time, straightening slightly each time he looked to be ready.
Equardo growled out with frustration, "Get it out, boy!" he smacked the back of the scout's head after about the fifth time. The scout gave a protested wince and rubbed at his head.
He scowled at Equardo before bringing his attention to Beau, whose own patience had nearly snapped at this point as well. "Things aren't... as we were expecting?" He said, confusing himself with what was coming out of his mouth. He shrugged it away, "So, West gave the prince to sketchy dark guys right? And how he's with raiders, right?" Everyone nodded their exasperated understanding.
He had the cocky look like he was going to ask ANOTHER question instead of getting on with it and Beau put a hand on his shoulder, "Soldier, two royal family members' lives are in danger as we speak, there will most likely be a fight, lives may be taken, we have exceedingly little time. Would you PLEASE just give me the damned update?" Her voice was silken steal as she made the scout comprehend.
He shuffled awkwardly, "Yeah, er, Yesser. Uuuh, turns out that Nadia and her men..."

She crashed the front doors open, threw down her sword and put her hands up behind her head. "Put you weapons down boys." She ordered those behind her. Large fur clad men spun around in vicious alarm before stuttering at the stance the tall being and the small troupe who shuffled in, obviously as unsure about the situation as the Raiders. She graced a grand smile to the room, split lip be damned. The smile short-lived the moment she heard the scream. The Raiders had already bound their hands and Equardo gave a wary glance in Beau's direction.
She was shortly joined with West, who kicked and jerked unceremoniously against the men DRAGGING him back from outside. He huffed and straightened himself once shoved into line to stand beside Beau.
"Where is the princess?"
West's jaw clenched as he fought down what almost looked like FURY, before inhaling and answering, "Climbed up into a window, I failed to follow." His words clipped bitterly, although his face held his impenetrable air of Captian West, his walk and posture following suite.
Just as she had expected, they were hustled into a large room, a scene already unfolding. She heard the Princess' proclamation and nearly sighed with the bit of swelling pride, but instead frowned and stepped forward before a solid open palmed hand slammed into her chest to halt her. The pain shuddered through her shoulders. She had forgotten about her injuries throughout the fog adrenaline all this evening, and nearly dropped to her knees at the unkind reminder. She gave a warning glare to her unkind reminder, visibly reminding the man they came willingly, and he pursed his lips before putting up innocent hands and backing up.
She noticed Hawk and Clarity, looking a little worse for wear, the scout beside her sucked in a quick breath with a cringe at the dull 'thunk' as the butt of an axe collided with Hawke's head.
And then somehow, by magic, everything shifted. She was untied, sat down, given a drink, and then ACTUALLY tended to. Calloused hands poked and nudged at her face and limbs for wounds and bruises. She was helped out of her armor, her torso far more sensitive than she was previously aware.
She was jovially tossed onto a bench by jovial Raiders, handed yet ANOTHER flagon of tangy liquid amber, and had a plate full of thick meats with more meat on top set in front of her and a good natured slap on the back by a raider before he tossed back his own pint beside her. Even Equardo made himself right at home between to Raiders who were slurring already, joining in with a cheer or two.
Luckily, Raiders spoke a language closely related to her mother's native tongue, and she was able to gather clips and phrases. Although it was a tad difficult, their language sounded much like her mothers, but it was as if they were speaking around a mouthful of large pebbles. Everything mouth shape round, and rolled, the tongue dropped down low in their mouths and lolled around their words. Eventually she was able to gather that they wanted to "See how well 'frillies' held their liquor". 'Frillies' being a rather crude title of endearment they happened to use for Nobles. They thought she was 'frilly'. Like a court youth's blouse. She squared her shoulders, and took a few torn off bites of meat. She'd need something in her stomach if she didn't want to get sick.
Her competitive spirit may one day be her demise. But that was for a later date. As she was going to win this one, therefore she didn't worry over it quite yet.
They really had no idea.
She played along, politely taking the large flagon handed to her. It was larger than a pint. She gathered from their 'pebble filled mouths' that these cups were made especially for drinking games, being nearly three pints. She sat patiently until all participants were accounted for then they all waited eagerly as the self-appointed referee raised his hand, and brought it down to the table with a loud BANG.
By the third round, one man's hand started to tilt and sway, another began to blink rapidly to clear the mental fog near the fourth. She set the cup down with slightly less grace than the last, and wiped her mouth on her sleeve unceremoniously, pushing it to the referee for another. As the fifth trickled down her throat she kept a white-fingered death grip on the bench beneath her, her own balance giving way to the effect of the drink. By the seventh, her sight was blurring around the edges and sound came a little slower. A man had literally tipped over off the bench and hadn't moved, the only signs of life was a loud snore that ripped through him like thunder. One man began giggling incessantly, another had slumped over his drink mid swallow and appeared to be deeply contemplating the table. She slammed the flagon down and shook her head. The crowd cheered at yet another victory, although from Clarity's or her own she couldn't have been sure.
Honestly she wasn't really sure of anything, and didn't realize that the referee was raising and shaking her hand. Some men groaned and slammed fists on the table, others pat themselves on the back, mostly Equardo's men, and she realized they had been betting on winners. Equardo himself was howling and slapping her shoulder in his drunken pride of her. She had won. But she didn't feel like it. She felt more like she was soaring. Her chest tingled and swelled inside, and she couldn't decide if she liked the feeling. Equardo seemed to notice the concerned crinkle in her brow.
Equardo chuckled, "Not like the ale back home, ah? Yeah, Raiders know their drink." He cackled before patting her back and going back to listening to the few who spoke his language.
She had been unaware time had passed, mostly she was focusing on not tipping over or outright laughing wildly like her body REALLY wanted to. With a whole body shake she sniffed and began the mission of successfully standing.
And the next thing she realized was her feet were on cobblestones and it was cold and dark instead of light and warm. The air smelt like the ocean instead of strong ale, farm animals, and salty meats. She tripped, only to be caught by a firm arm around her shoulders, before she burst into laughter at the tickling feeling of falling. But she stopped when she realized she had been caught. She loosely swung her head to the side to see someone familiar with a long scar across their nose. She swung her head to the other side to find another familiar profile with long black hair.
"Oh dear," She squeaked, a dopey smile grew and she relaxed into their steps as they practically CARRIED her back to the docks, her arms gripped around both their shoulders as they supported her back. "Good evening gentlemen," She mused, throwing her head back and looking up at the stars
West chuckled, "Been a good one for you, has it?"
She snorted clumsily, before tripping again, forcing Hawke to take all her wait for a moment, and she laughed right out again, "I- I'm so sorry." She tried through peals of laughter. Hawke shook his head as his shoulder shook, her laughter becoming contagious. "Sor-sorry. I honeslty had it under control- really i-" She tripped and topped them all over. West sighed, as if he was barely dealing with the two children's misbehavior, as Hawke wheezed and Beau kicked her feet as she howled, before eventually they helped each other up and stumbled back into their previous rolls. Both West and Hawke had to heave a limp-bodied general up from the ground and quickly wrap their arms around broad shoulders before her legs gave-way again. "S-sorry."
And she really was sorry.
But she was also quite joyous.
So it was hard to level them.
Luckily it was only a turn away from the docks, and before they knew it they stood before the little bridge of the Drunken Mermaid, the sheer coincidence of the situation pulling small giggles from her. It was so funny, in fact, that she shared it with both Hawke and West. Even West cracked a little at it. Bringing a drunken commander to lodge in the very suitable Drunken Mermaid.
Their voice brought an alert ear to walk over and look over the rail. "Captain?" The person stage whispered.
West calmed himself, "Aye, Gov, it's me. And two delighted drunks. Give me a hand would you?"
Beau was too engulfed in her mental musings to have noticed the bridge bounce and creak as a large body made it's way down to them. "Oh." A voice said with light surprise, even a bit of amusement. That made Beau look up.
She couldn't be sure if it was the drink, or the blasted placement of the moon, but her eyes were met with the most striking image she had even seen. Her face dropped as she stared in complete shock. It was just like the first night, when a most gentle giant called her a Lady. Her whole system short-circuited and she wasn't thinking anything at all. Gov'ner didn't help because he only stared back. It was as if everything dulled around him, and his person nearly GLOWED in the moonlight. Sharp features highlighted themselves, his smooth tan skin illuminated. He hadn't bothered to tie his shirt, yet again. Her lips had parted slightly, feeling entrapped by his eyes and for the most frightening moment she felt like she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. An inner part of her panicked at what he might think at the sight of her. Cheeks and neck flushed red from drink, irises blown from intoxication, hair and clothes mussed from carelessness. She thought she looked a mess.
He thought very differently, he thought she looked devine. Quite delectable in fact. So the mighty, tight-strung, Knight Commander could let loose, could she?
Their eyes only met for a moment, but to Beau it felt much longer, and she found her feet cemented to the ground. She felt taught and tensed, but at the same time limp and light. She swore off heavy drinking, for at least a few months, in that moment. Even if it was to prove it to Raiders.
"There's no way all three of us can get her up the bridge," Hawke SO HELPFULLY pointed out.
Gov'ner turned and seemed to be QUITE concerned about the matter. West was quite happy just to be relieved of duty. Hawke was actually concerned about the matter, "I might've had a bit too much to be able to make it up there myself..." He rubbed the back of his neck, before testing himself by trying to focus on his hand from different distances. "Yeah, nope, depth perception is a mess."
Beau's knees decided to give out just that moment, and she yelped as she plummeted the few feet it took to the ground. Except she didn't head for the ground. Her body decided it was better to throw itself in a much more inconvenient direction.
He didn't even stumble when she collided into him, her cheek coming flush against a bare collarbone, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Instead he steadily caught her by the waist. But she also was unable to regain balance, her hand clinging desperately to the sleeve of his shirt as the other gripped his shoulder. "Good evening," he hummed warmly, his voice vibrating through her wherever her own body made contact to his.
He made no moves to actually AID her in regaining her footing, so instead she clung to him in her drunken fog, unaware that she was mentally panicking. "Help," She peeped.
Gov'ner acted entirely innocent to her predicament, "Hmm?" He looked down at her and blinked, a pleased little curl in his lips, completely content in the turn of events.
A predicament both Hawke and West decided wasn't happening and instead sauntered their way up the boat, both holding tight to the other's shoulder, both a little tipsy.
She huffed, "C-could you..." Her pride held her tongue. But her drunkenness demanded that this was a rather severe matter, so she shoved it down, "Could you please- Would you- Please help me stand up." She forced out.
Gov'ner had a pleased lilt to his voice as he brought her up by the small of her back, which effectively regained her balance, but also drew her closer to him, "But of course, My Lady. Did you enjoy you're evening?" His words had that hint of foreign curl to it that she couldn't help but notice a lot more tonight.
A girlish giggle bubbled up from her chest, alarming the both of them, and although embarrassment burnt through her entire being, she hadn't the control to stop. She tried to give an apologetic look but the moment she met his eyes again she drew back to laugh harder, flipping back into the floating state she was in only moment before. She hadn't bothered to let go of him, however, because she still felt unstable, he legs shaky and tingly. And he didn't either. A firm grip on her arms.
Gov'ner grinned, "It was a VERY good evening, I take it." She only broke into more bouts of giggles that was very much unlike her, the joke far funnier to her NOW than it would be tomorrow.
She tried to stop, and it didn't help that he gently laughed along with her, or at her, either way it didn't help. It only made her start laughing again. After a few seconds it seemed the wave of giggles abated and she was able to look at him straight. Taking a deep breath, with only a few interruptions, they both gazed at the current problem.
Getting up the bridge.
Gov'ner eyed the plank, eyed her, eyed the bridge, and insufferably looked back to her. He rose a blond brow with a curious little smile, but kept his mouth shut.
She physically wilted, "Oh don't make me say it." She pleaded. He shook his head innocently like he didn't understand, but even if she was drunk out of her wits it wasn't hard to see the twinkle in smoldering amber eyes and the dubious smile hidden behind the kind one he was giving her now.
Unknowingly, she was doing a lot of things like that tonight, she had again given all her weight onto him. Or maybe he orchestrated it that way. But, unfortunately, she was leaning against him and dropped a tired head on an accessible broad shoulder. Suddenly she felt exhausted, her head heavy.
He heard a mumble come from his shirt and looked down at tousled blond locks to bring her from his shoulder slightly so he could hear, not forgetting to note the hint of a fragrance much like cherry blossoms, most likely from the soap she had used. "What was that, My Lady?"
She exhaled a long-suffering sigh, "For Maker's sake, I'm in no state to be climbing bridges and boarding ships, so for the love of the Maker would you so KINDLY escort me to the Captain's study?" She said none too prince-like.
He chuckled, "Of course, of course." He patted her head and drew her back. "Like we did at the sails, can you manage?"
She sniffed and righted her shoulders, then with a salute that would insult the king, she waited his instructions in mock seriousness, even swaying a little. "Lead on."
Gov'ner chuckled good-natured and slid his arms down hers, although Beau may blame the cool breeze that glided past for the shiver she couldn't hold back when he did.
Just like before, he easily guided her up and over without mistake, her eyes stubbornly on her feet as she tried to walk straight, he kept himself a constant anchor.