#{i figured their gascoigne and viola's marriage would have made ripples considering}

[ashendcst]

"hear there's to be another wedding this month." Trevor drawled, flicking his cards down onto the table with practiced indolence. His smile betrayed him however: rather than the usual lazy sneer deepening the laugh lines around his mouth, this curl of lips gave a hint of softness to weathered features. Not by much, since Djura doubted Trevor could remain pleasant to anyone for longer than perhaps a minute tops, but enough to draw notice before the man's prickly disposition reinstated itself.

"Some cleric." The other Keg continued, reaching for his cup and draining it in a swallow. He licked his lips afterwards, catching any last drops of brandy - or blood. "Odd name. Didn't quite catch it. But it's not common for the churchmen here to marry, so whoever she is - she must be a treasure."

Djura set down his hand of cards with a touch more restraint, grinning as Trevor's eyes rolled in exasperation. A sweep of his arm was enough to collect the winnings: a pile sizeable enough to certainly put a dent in the ever-growing list of materials needed for a hunter's work.

"Not jealous are we?" He asked innocently, plucking up the cards between them and dealing when his companion drummed scarred fingers impatiently.

Still, it was no small amount of news. Yharnam saw more seasonal traffic than those willing to stay in the city, and to hear that someone, cleric or otherwise, wished to potentially start a family was enough to bring a warm sort of cheer into his tired bones.

"Watch your mouth." Trevor snapped without heat as he studied his cards. A gleam that had nothing to do with the blood or alcohol brightened dark eyes, and this time when he smiled it was vicious.

Djura glanced at his own hand and withheld a wince. He'd counted his good fortunes too soon, it would seem.

"We both know there ain't a woman in this city that would have you or me." Trevor continued blithely, taking a card from the deck and laying down another. "For the better, cause I've heard you snore and it's a wonder we still have a roof over our heads every dawn."

"Piss off." Djura flicked a coin at him in vain hopes that it might bounce off Trevor's shoulder, grumbling when his fellow Keg caught it instead. "I may snore, but you are the worst by far. It's a miracle you haven't broken your neck before the hunt with all the clothes you leave around."

"Thank you mum." The captured coin glinted in Trevor's hand before he tossed it back into the pile. Silence took it's roots between them as they played their turns, pausing occasionally to drink or curse their luck.

"Doesn't really matter." Trevor split off the pile of coins and bonds into even halves, pushing one towards Djura before collecting his own. "Long as they aren't fools and don't hop in too quick, it should turn out well for them."

In a softer voice that few scarcely ever heard he added, "I wish 'em well, come what may. Someone in this bloody city deserves to be happy."

Holding his tongue, Djura nudged the last bit of coin into it's pouch. He blew out the lantern next, slightly more comfortable once they were both plunged into the gentle gloom.

"Keep your head up. There'll be more weddings yet, if we're lucky." Perhaps even some children to run the streets, if the stars were kind and this illness sweeping through the city faded as some claimed it would.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen or heard children playing anywhere, Djura realized. Not even within the more well-off districts.

"Hope so." Trevor's mild reply startled him back to the present, the scrape of his chair loud in the semi-dark. "Burn a light if you need me, Djura. I'll be taking a walk til night fully settles."

Was that brief gleam of gold a play of light from somewhere else? Djura blinked, but it had already gone. It had looked, just for a moment, like his fellow's eyes had glowed.

"Of course. The shop will be open if you need it." The answer came by force of habit, and he pushed the idea from his mind. They'd both had a long day and the night had yet to fully stretch out before them. He was seeing things, that was all.