(2023-05-29) Strategy Over Breakfast

Details

Author:	Alli
Summary:	Dara chats with her brother Devon about his current plans and strategy.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: Ringside Seats

There’s light streaming in through the windows of the elegantly appointed townhouse in the Cathedral District, when Dara steps into the dining room to find her brother already there. She’s perfectly ready for the day, her hair in ringlets that fall just so and her blue and white dress is perfectly tailored. Devon, for his part, looks a bit more rumpled, his collar loosened as he pores over documents laid out on the table in between coffee and a small plate of bread and fruit.

“Morning, brother,” she says brightly, eyeing the papers as she slides into a chair nearby. “Working on your plan for the House bid?”

“What?” Devon asks distractedly, then shakes his head looking up at her. “I need to, I know, but this is the personnel compensation. It’s the time of year to consider that, and it waits for the outcome of no political contest.”

Dara frowns, grabbing a fork and spearing a small slice of melon. “We pay them fairly, don’t we? The mines are running like they always have.”

“It’s not just the miners - there’s administration and the armed men and…” Devon gestures at the papers, “What’s fair may shift between one year and the next. Inflation, likelihood of violence by orc or gnoll… and besides, we can’t simply be fair, we must be competitive. I must gather what information I can from other operations in the area, which is a headache and a half itself, when it is even possible.”

“It sounds dreadful,” Dara says, popping the melon into her mouth. “You ought to have someone else do it.”

Devon turns his frown to his sister. “Delegate the happiness of our people? The financial solvency of our House? No, Dara. I have accountants, of course, but the final determinations are always mine.”

“Okay, okay,” Dara holds her hands up in surrender. “But you might consider more pleasant topics, once you’re done. Like the Lady Aubrienna. What did you think of her?”

Devon sighs, pushing the papers away slightly and reaching for his coffee. “She’s a sweet girl, and surprising. Has she talked you into knife-fighting lessons yet?”

Dara gives a startled trill of laughter. “She brought that up with you? Oh dear.”

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Devon says, with a thoughtful smile. Does he mean knife-fighting or Lady Aubrienna herself? “But she is so very young. The lady has made her interest plain, but I’m not entirely certain she is not merely toying with the idea of being a countess. I would not want her to tie her future to mine on that goal alone.”

“It is the season of weddings, though,” Dara says brightly. “Did you hear Commodore Fallon and Duchess Esprit are engaged? I was quite surprised.”

“Truly?” Devon raises his eyebrows. “I saw them dancing, but she danced with many others that night. I’m sure you heard of her circumstances - she’s a kind woman, and I’m pleased things are turning around for her. Provided the Commodore will make a good husband, of course.”

“Hm, well, you could give it a try with Aubri. Get to know her better, see what you both think. The Glenarvans would be a good ally.” Dara’s smile takes on a bitter edge as she adds, “Light knows we’ve made no progress in those kinds of alliances so far. Any news on other bridges being built? For the House seat?”

Devon winces and shakes his head. “I’ve had no real luck approaching Ference, though he’s been unfailingly cordial. The Fallons and Thenedains have enough history that I don’t think I could break into that block. And Count Tyrrell… I cannot tell, with that man. Would he favor an alliance? Does he despise our entire family? I will always treat him with the utmost respect as a neighbor and tend to his estates when needed as if they were my own, but I honestly cannot tell. What of your side?”

Dara shrugs daintily. “I missed my chance to send Count Tyrrell a case of whiskey. I was going to send it to Northrend and then poof suddenly he was here. I do think I have a good link to Lady Alwynneria, but I’m not certain of her ties with her father. Perhaps I could ask her, when I go to the orphanage. But, as for maneuvering… many of the lines are already drawn up. You’ll just need to decide where to stand.”

Devon sighs and looks down at his accounting papers with a touch of weariness. “All of this reminds me of twenty years ago,” Devon says, taking a sip of coffee before continuing. “You and Leric were young enough to be shielded from most of it at the time. Stormwind was an impossible tangled yarn of connections, and I could not make sense of it without our parents there to guide. I should not have had to, not until I was older, but… life waits for no one.”

“Tangled yarn can be fun,” Dara says, with a kitten-like smile. “Puzzles to unravel. But then, I suppose the puzzles I chose never had the same import as the ones in front of you. But you’ve managed well since then.”

“Yes, and I would like to think that my life since then is my statement, that I do not need to make speeches or force acquaintance with House members that have no interest in me as a person,” Devon frowns. “But I don’t think I have been loud enough in my actions. Lord Ference leans heavily on the accomplishments of his mercenary company. By my eye, they would serve better in the military, but… I cannot deny their popularity. Or their successes.”

“There were many of them at the gala,” Dara points out. “Of course, I didn’t spend my time chatting with mercenaries. But… some did. I was watching. Duchess Esprit spoke with a draenei of all things, not to mention the warlock girls, the Aspenwood couple, Lord Ference’s son… and she even danced with Lord Ference himself. But then, the Duchess was speaking to everyone important,” - not me, her eyes say for a moment, but Devon doesn’t seem to notice. “Count Tyrrell went on a garden walk with the two warlock girls - “ scandal? asks her eyebrows, “ - and had a terribly long talk about tentacles and other nasty things with Lady Cressidha. The Fallons spoke to nearly everyone, and Baron Demasco was… social, but about as strategic as you, if you don’t mind me saying. Aside from the common mnercenaries, of course, there are Lysanders and Aspenwoods and Glenarvans in Cobalt Company. All the more reason Aubrienna makes sense as a match.”

Devon is tapping one finger thoughtfully against his papers. “A tenuous link, at best. But perhaps you should.”

“I should what?” Dara blinks at him and gives a little laugh. “Marry Lady Aubrienna?”

“Spend some time chatting with mercenaries,” Devon replies, and Dara laughs again until she realizes that he’s serious. “You were talking about learning self-defense, after all. And if I show an interest, it undercuts my message about centralization of the military. Leric would get along with them, I wager, but he’s in Northrend and their headquarters are in Ironforge.”

“But… what would I even talk to a mercenary about?” Dara asks, baffled.

“I don’t know, Dara,” Devon says, lifting his accounting papers and turning his attention away from her. “What do you talk to anyone about? I’m sure you’ll manage.”