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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Siamus invites Winnie to discuss her status with the ongoing Morningdew Matter, and offers the lawyer a solution to a potential problem as the controversial trial moves forward. 4k-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Winnie is a prompt person when she's showing up by a request to someone who is paying her. She arrives at the time she's meant to, dressed to impress function in society. She's looking a little run down already, soft smudges under her eyes that squint in the October sunlight, the gray of her skirt suit making her look a little more sallow, a bit more washed out, picking up the grayer beige of her eyes and the ashy notes of her hair. But it's pressed neatly, the brooch at her throat pinned perfectly at center.
She has a black wool coat to give to Barbour, not quite on the same level of nice as the suit, some of the seams starting to wear a bit thin, and the fashion of it more than four years past. It's fine.
Barbour receives her with the same smiling, courteous warmth he does anyone; we cast no judgment on coats here, madame. "His lordship is in his study," he informs her, and ushers her down the airy, pale hallway to the double doors on the right and the study beyond.
Siamus Fallon is not at his desk, for a change, but pacing before the window. He's dressed in a navy blue waistcoat and trousers and a blue-striped gray cravat; the latter is, as per usual, jauntily askew. He's frowning thunderously at the sheaf of papers he is reading as he paces.
Winnie enters, opens her mouth to say something like a greeting, and at the expression she closes her mouth again. It's clear she's considering if she can just…maybe…blend in with…this nice wallpaper. Maybe he won't notice the extra wallpaper. She doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. Should she touch the wallpaper?
"Lady Alwynneria," Barbour announces, and Siamus halts and looks up, startled. His expression smooths at once into smiling, gleam-eyed warmth, and he crosses the room toward her, laying the papers on the desk absently as he comes.
"Lady Alwynneria," he repeats, and reaches for her hand. "Thank ye for coming so promptly. I know ye must be a busy woman."
Winnie knows handshakes, this is fine. She presents her hand for a relatively firm handshake, nodding in agreement. "Er. Yes. You too. I mean, I know you're busy. Not that you're…" A busy woman. It's fine, Winnie, just move along. "So. Did you want an update on the case?"
"Please, aye. Will ye take tea?" He arches a brow at her, half-turning to usher her toward one of the armchairs before the desk.
"Oh, um." Winnie considers it. Will she? "Sure." She doesn't sound thrilled at this prospect, but asking for coffee might be a bit much. She sits with a bit of a tired plop in her designated seat. "I don't have a lot of, um, the big news, you know. Trial date. The judge. The finalized charges to plead one way or another to…" She trails off as she gets caught on some thought or another from that, looking like someone who is chasing down a sentence somewhere else.
Siamus dismisses Barbour in pursuit of tea with an absent half-nod as he moves to his own seat behind the desk. He reaches to collect the papers he'd been reviewing when she arrived, taps them into a precisely-aligned stack, and lays them aside at his right hand, then reaches into a drawer just beneath and lifts out a notebook and pen. "That's fine. What have ye got so far? Ye met wi'him — what were your impressions?"
"What?" Winnie jolts back. "Yes." Right, thoughts. Sorry, she was elsewhere. She sits up straighter, doing nothing to make her seem older. If anything, she seems younger, like a school kid about to give a report to a teacher.
"Depending on what the prosecution chooses to pursue as formal charges pending the results of an ongoing investigation, I believe that Harvey has a reasonable chance at proceeding through this trial without…incident that would be…" She seems a little paler. "Dangerous for the public. He seemed to be of sound mind. Which does, um. If we were…if we were to need to argue against, uh, temporary insanity, I don't think we would succeed. He, um. He was…well behaved. And civil." She would sound a lot more convincing if her voice wasn't going higher, more sheepish, and a little shaky. She fidgets with her hands, picking at the tips with her nails. "He hasn't ever been in this sort of situation before. A-arrested. Or on trial."
"No," Siamus agrees sternly. "I expect he hasn't. He's a gentleman, Morningdew is. Was a gentleman." He surveys Winnie, and his manner softens again. "I expect he was unsettling, aye? I'd have gone with ye, and will in future if ye like."
Winnie's breath whooshes out of her like a question she'd thought to ask just got skipped over the difficult part. She gives Siamus a shy smile. "I'm really, um. I'd be grateful. It's not…he wasn't trying to, um, unsettle. Deliberately. I don't think. It's just…you know, my usual clients, they're…well, they're under 18 at most. A lot of them under ten. And none of them could just…kill me, without even trying." She stares straight ahead, eyes large and soft. "I don't…I don't have anything, you know. I've never even touched a gun before. What would I even do?" Winnie's voice is small, and she shrugs. "Quote penal codes at him until he got confused around the subdivision A of section eighteen?"
Siamus laughs. It is kind of a generous laugh in proportion to the humor offered, but Siamus is a guy who has a lot of practice with putting nervous debutantes — or mousy lawyers with makeovers — at ease, and it is also a warm laugh.
"It won't come to that," he assures her. "And I'll go with ye whenever ye like, to see that it doesn't. If ye'd prefer to meet with him here sometimes, ye'd be welcome to as well."
Winnie nods, offering up a weak little smile. "I'd appreciate it. The courthouse I think is also a bit…it can put anyone on edge." She says it like it's something she's been told, but finds strange herself. What isn't soothing about the courthouse?? That's where the courtroom lives! Good place. Homey place.
"I'll need to meet with him to prepare him for his testimony, once I know what we're really going to deal with. The prosecution is a man named Stuart Klein. I worked with him, actually, a few years ago. He, well, at least then, he could get overconfident, and aggressive in a charge. I don't know yet if that's going to be a good thing or, um, really bad. Harvey made a, um. A bit of an odd…request." She fidgets worse with her hands, and seems like she might sit on them soon to stop. "He doesn't want any sentencing to result in, uh, incarceration. It's…I mean, that would. It would mean." Winnie seems reluctant to voice it.
"… He'd prefer death?" Siamus asks, brows drawn together.
Winnie nods, a nervous bobbing. "It limits the options to acquittal or…immediate execution. Which cuts out any real potential for an appeal." So, no pressure, Winnie. The circles under her eyes are only going to get worse from here, that's for sure.
Siamus frowns thunderously. "That's preposterous. That's absurd. Why would he tie your hands like that? Does he think he can try a judge's bluff? I wonder if the Westwind girl's aware of this nonsense."
Winnie shrugs helplessly. "I think there's some fear that without a way to, um. Feed the Hunger, that he'll just… he said 'that there would not be a man left.'"
Siamus slumps thoughtfully back in his chair and smooths an end of his moustache. "The penal regulations," he says, mostly to himself. "Another thing to mention to Dema– your father. They'll need a different system, should we ever mean to incarcerate any."
"I was able to use a, a bit of a loophole for his bail, because they couldn't provide sufficient, um. Food." A shudder rolls through her. "And he hasn't been convicted of anything." She gathers herself up, holding onto herself like she's giving herself a hug. "But they'll close that as soon as they can. And… they'll use this trial to decide what does and doesn't go in that first draft of any new code. It's, um. It will be scrutinized very closely, everything that we choose will create some level of precedence, even if all it does is confirm a law already in place, that it applies to the Ebon Blade. With stare decisis, that means that another court will make a decision in alignment with the previous ruling. If we lose, it might mean that every death knight tried in a court of the Kingdom of Stormwind could face the same sentencing." This is a normal amount of pressure.
"Well," says Siamus after a long silence. "That is a normal amount of pressure."
He smiles ruefully at her, his gaze dark and solemn. "I'm deeply obliged to ye, Lady Alwynneria, for taking on this case. I know it's a massive undertaking. Are there — d'ye have any concerns wi' security, public sentiment, anything of that sort?"
Perhaps to his surprise, if he was expecting her to put on the stiff upper lip and say she has no fear, she nods. "Yes. There always is with particularly, um, unpopular defense cases. You learn to expect that there may be protests, and some people may take to threatening or…worse. I've been, um. I have contractors finishing up my windows to be reinforced and, um. New locks, more secure. It's…it's…" Well, it is. She crosses her legs at the ankles, seeming a little smaller. "Most of the time I just. My neighbor gets me groceries and I don't really, um. Go places. But I don't really…usually go places, anyway." This may not come to a surprise to Siamus. "Well. The courthouse, but that's not places." That's home away from home.
Siamus frowns at her; it is a paternal frown, and never mind the fact she's six years his senior. "Would ye be willing to shift to Fallon House? We've plenty of room" — he assumes — "and ye'd be welcome."
Winnie immediately blushes, and holds up both her hands as she shakes her head. "Oh. That's, that's very. That's very you of. I mean, very nice of you. But, I — I." The fluster is making the words come out in little hiccups of short stops and sudden starts, and she pauses to take a breath. Try again, Winnie.
"No, thank you. That's very kind of you to offer. But I, I really do prefer my own space. I have. Um. A system. And, it's really…the scrutiny that will come, later." And if she was known to have been staying at their house, some implications might be made. They'd be ridiculous for some obvious reasons, but people might still make them. "And the system. The system really is…important right now. I need all of my references and papers and." And color coordinated foods, but Winnie doesn't mention that one.
"Naturally. O' course, naturally, thoughtless of me," Siamus agrees easily, attempting to smooth over the fluster. "Would ye prefer if I arrange some personal security for ye, then? A… companion, shall we say?"
Winnie blinks. Uh. What? "Oh." This does not fluster the lawyer, as she lowers her hands slowly back to her lap, considering it. It might be on the tip of her tongue to ask if he really thinks that's necessary, but something must resolve in her mind before the question does, because she nods slowly. "That might be a very good idea, yes. If…that is if you're, if it's not going to be too much of a problem. Just anyone who could…you know. Do more than quote penal codes."
Siamus considers this. "Do ye have a secretary?"
Winnie starts to laugh and then realizes he's serious and turns the laugh into a shake of her head. "Um. No." She can barely afford herself on her usual salary, let alone a personal secretary.
"I could loan ye mine," Siamus suggests, politely overlooking the laughter. "A most capable lady, Miss Annai Curran. A sharp mind and a fine assistant, and she can… as ye put it, she can do more than quote penal codes. She won't be quite so conspicuous as a musclebound sort might be, and twice as useful, no doubt."
"She was the one running the auction, at your Charity Gala, wasn't she? In the black dress?" Does Siamus remember that Miss Curran wore a severe looking black dress on the night of the Charity Gala? Probably not. Does Winnie? Yes. Does Winnie remember what Siamus was wearing? Almost certainly not. Sorry, Siamus. She wasn't really looking. "She seemed, um, really good at her job." Winnie's cheeks are a little pink.
(It was a blue suit, Winnie, that's okay.)
Siamus knits his brow thoughtfully. Was Miss Curran wearing a black dress? "Aye, ran the auction," he confirms. "Excellent at her job. And very discreet. Would ye like me to send for her? To introduce ye?"
Winnie does not squeak. That was, uh, a…normal sound. That would be the normal order of things, wouldn't it? Be introduced to someone to be your secretary bodyguard. The fluster grows but Winnie keeps it simple. Good idea, Winnie. "Yes."
Siamus nods and rises from the desk to cross back to the door. He steps out into the hallway and has a quiet conversation with someone, then returns and takes his seat again. "She'll be just a few minutes." He smiles reassuringly. "Why don't ye tell me why ye decided to go into the law? Purely your father's influence, or…?"
"Oh." Winnie straightens up. This is an answer she has likely given before, something she might have even had to give a speech on at some point, based on the way she holds herself, as if she has been suddenly placed in front of a podium. "Dad always had an interest in law, but it was a hobby, back when I was little. He collected books, and focused on work, mostly in textile trading and investments. When I was really young, six or so, I used some of those books to get up to a high shelf, and I fell, did some damage to the books. Dad talked to me after about what they really were, you know. And I just, the way he talked about it, the whole concept of someone who could protect a world through the law, that was what grabbed me, and didn't really let go.
"He never really pushed you know, my dad. But I was…" The speech fails, a hitch, and she has to catch herself slightly on it, take a slow breath. The words are much less sure when she continues. "I used to be the, the youngest. So it wasn't…I could study all I wanted. And not worry about…about anything. And I did it. And then…" She looks away, her face going a little paler, her right hand rubbing where a wedding ring would have been on her finger, if she wore one. She doesn't. "Um. Anyway. That was how. I just…it's always been something we both loved, in different ways. He loves the ideal of law. I love the practice of it."
Siamus's dark gaze shifts as she talks, following the gestures, studying her changes of expression. But when she's done he only smiles again and nods. "Then I chose the right Demasco for the matter, it seems." He does not question the elisions in her story.
The study door opens and the housemaid Catrin enters with a tea tray. Following close on her heels is a woman who is today wearing a trim high-necked peplum jacket and full skirt in a soft camel shade, her hair in a high twist, her tortoiseshell spectacles on a gold chain around her neck. She pauses and makes a gesture that seems like shorthand for a curtsey at Siamus.
He seems to interpret it as such as well, and rises to incline his head courteously to her in return, indicating with an open hand the seat beside Winnie's. "Miss Curran. Thank ye for coming."
"Naturally, sir," says Miss Curran, and moves to settle smoothly in the chair, arranging her skirts and then settling her attaché case on her knees. She regards him attentively, with solemn brown eyes.
Catrin sets the tea tray on the corner of the desk and begins to pour tea.
Winnie hurriedly stands after she realizes that there might be curtsying, then plops back down again because, oh, no, we're sitting. Yes, good. Wait, should she be standing again? Was she supposed to stay standing as a lady, or is she a sitting lawyer now? Winnie clearly doesn't know and now it's going to be too awkward if she asks. "Um," she says to Miss Curran, and then stops there, as she tries to remember the rules of etiquette. She's supposed to be introduced, right? Or does that not apply to secretaries? Winnie does not remember, and now she's paused too long.
"Lady Alwynneria," Siamus says. "Miss Annai Curran."
Miss Curran turns to nod at Winnie. Her smile is slight, a warmth visible more in her eyes than at her lips. "Lady Alwynneria," she says. "A pleasure."
"Win-winnie," Winnie squeaks out, the handshake started to be offered while seated, which is just logistically going to be very weird. She tries to set it back down in her lap before it gets any more awkward, and gives a strange little bob of a bow while seated. "You can, um, I mean, that's my — you can call me just 'Winnie.' Um. Lady Alwynneria is more for uh…formality places. Unless you, I mean, you can call me that, too. I-I will, you know, uh, respond. I know it's my name." Although when she says it like that, you do kind of wonder if she does.
"Winnie, then," says Miss Curran, and the smile in her eyes warms further. "You may call me Annai, if you like."
It is hard to imagine anyone having the audacity to call a lady of Miss Curran's composure anything but Miss Curran. It feels possible that her parents call her Miss Curran.
"Annai," says Siamus — oh, okay — "would ye be willing to do some work for Lady Alwynneria, on my behalf?"
Winnie nod nods. Wait, is she agreeing for Miss Curran Annai? Probably not intentionally, maybe it was meant as encouragement. She realizes she probably should not be the one nodding far too late to un-nod. She ducks her head instead and looks for that tea, wow, look, a beverage distraction. Social interactions are the worst.
"Certainly," says Miss Curran. "What sort of work?"
Catrin leans deferentially toward Winnie. "Milk and sugar, my lady?"
Winnie hesitates. "Oh, uh, yes," she says to Catrin, which is actually not what she wants in her tea, but that is predominantly because she wants coffee instead of tea, and saying yes is easier than explaining the preference. This is fine. "Um, I'm a lawyer." She pauses, longer. Should she be explaining the potential problems? It doesn't sound like she's going to elaborate, as she stares in a way that seems likely she's gotten caught on another thought somewhere.
Siamus nods encouragingly at Winnie. You are a lawyer! Way to start strong. "Some clerical and secretarial," he tells Miss Curran. "But chiefly in the interests of providing her wi' discreet security."
"Of course," says Miss Curran.
Catrin offers Winnie a cup of milk-and-sugar tea.
"If you have any experience or background with the law, I could list you temporarily as a paralegal, otherwise, more realistically, a litigation assistant, which wouldn't be too strange given the case I currently have," Winnie suggests, and then gets distracted again by her tea, holding it to her like it's extremely fragile and she's terrified she's going to drop it suddenly for no reason, and if she does, it will explode, killing them all.
"Y-you wouldn't have to actually, um, do any-anything. I can handle it. I have a system." This system might not be a system that makes sense to anyone but Winnie. "But if you could look like it, um. I have…I have a lot of people I need to, um. There's witnesses?" Is that a question? She tries again. "There's witnesses. And a lot of, um, angry priests. And p-possibly death knights, to, to talk to." The stutter gets worse, and so Winnie stops talking to drink some of her tea.
Winnie regrets her choices. Drink it faster, maybe. At least the temperature doesn't seem to bother her as she chugs her tea like she's cutting the correct wire on that potential tea explosive.
"A litigation assistant, then," says Miss Curran. "If your system is confidential then I shall naturally leave you to it, but I am very good at learning systems. Priests and death knights suggest this is the Morningdew matter?" She looks a mild inquiry from Winnie to Siamus and back again.
Winnie takes a breath and sort of holds it, also looking at Siamus, cradling her empty teacup with both hands.
Siamus nods. "That's correct. Lady Alwynneria has agreed to serve as counsel for the defense, and I'm concerned about her security."
Miss Curran nods as well, hers directed at Winnie. "How remarkable of you. It's sure to be a legal landmark. I'd be very glad to help, if you're amenable. I assure you that I am quite capable as a personal security as well as a clerk. And I'm a notary."
You know, the usual bodyguard-notary combo.
Right. That combo. The usual combo. The regular combo. Winnie blows out the breath, and looks very obviously out of her depth for a moment. What might be surprising is that it only lasts a moment, before she meets Miss Curran's eyes and nods, firmly. "That is a very good skill set to have," she says, definitively. "My usual working hours are from 6am to 2am, although I will be at home for most of those currently, as I am still in the process of readying what might be necessary for the trial. I have scheduled meetings for my part of discovery, usually starting between 2pm to 4pm, lasting approximately 18 minutes of billable hours on average. There will be a necessary meeting with my client when charges are finalized that I expect to last up to one hour of billable hours, and possibly another brief one after a trial date has been arranged that I expect to be within six minutes of billable hours." Whew. She deflates a little, and seems to realize she's still holding the teacup. Putting that down now.
Miss Curran takes all of this in without comment or change of expression. "Where do you live, my lady?" she asks.
Winnie gives her address promptly. It has an apartment number. The address is one listed in the Old Town District, and not the nice side, more the kind to be next to places called Cut Throat Alley and where her apartment would look out on shady deals where someone could beat up a dwarf with his gangs of cronies and no city guards would interfere. It is likely very inexpensive to live there. It's not where you'd expect a lady of a wealthy baron to live, but here we are.
Miss Curran nods. "I'll take an apartment in the building, so I needn't be an intrusion on you but can be aware of comings and goings, and be near at hand if needed."
She doesn't ask whether there are apartments available in the building. There will be when she asks for one.
Winnie certainly isn't going to question it. She may be only a bunny lawyer, but she knows a Miss Curran when she sees one.
"Thanks. I appreciate it. Um. A-annai." Winnie only stumbles on it a little. Despite it, she relaxes back in her chair, probably more than she has since her first introduction to Harvey. Whew. It's going to be okay.
Probably.