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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Winnie meets with her client Harvey Mourningdew to prepare for his trial. The bad news is that he's being charged with extremely serious crimes. The good news is that he's being charged with extremely serious crimes but his lawyer is Winnie. Contains summary of plot up to this point, and context for the upcoming trial. 9700-ish words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Arc: Death Knight PR
Siamus Fallon's study at the Fallon townhouse in Stormwind City has been rearranged to accommodate a group meeting. The broad, wooden desk has been entirely cleared; even the few nautical instruments that stand constant vigil at one corner of it have been shifted to a bookshelf nearby, as the desk's master yields it to another person for her temporary use.
The armchairs from the hearth have been dragged over to join the two that usually stand alone before the desk, now part of a companionable semi-circle. A fire burns in the hearth against the damp chill of the early November morning, and a tea service and buffet of sorts — sandwiches and scones, chiefly — have been arranged on a table nearby.
Siamus Fallon himself, in black waistcoat and trousers and a blood-red cravat, stands to one side of the desk, leaning shoulder-propped against the bookshelves, in low-voiced conversation with his secretary, Miss Annai Curran. That lady is dressed in a prim, high-necked jacket and skirt of charcoal gray, her chestnut hair pulled into a soft, loose chignon, her tortoiseshell glasses hanging on a little gold chain around her neck.
Harvey Mourningdew sits with perfect posture in one of the armchairs closest to the desk, his runesword leaning against the side of the chair. His armor is maybe just a permanent feature, as he rarely seems to be without it. The bloodstains have been cleaned, at least for now.
Across from him sits his babysitter, the dark haired Lathrik Dinnsfield, a man claiming to be a paladin. The truth of those claims is not readily apparent. He's dressed in a typical Stormwind Guard's armor, Alliance tabard included, and positioned in a lazy slouch against the back of the chair, his own blade held upright between his legs.
He taps idly on its sheath as he waits, expression bored, thoughts probably elsewhere, etiquette nonexistent.
On the dot of the hour, the door to the office opens, courtesy of the lady of the house. Lady Fallon, the ninth Duchess Esprit, is dressed impeccably in a deep, soft shimmer velvet brown dress, tailored into a high waistline just beneath her bustline, with long draping sleeves that show slashed interiors of a matching silk red to the cravat Siamus wears. Her hair is in a tight chignon, her cosmetics are subtle on her eyes, and her expression is so perfectly composed you might think her unfeeling. If she has a particular sort of healthy glow to her, well, nothing at her waist yet gives her away as to the why.
At her side, in deep contrast is a bedraggled rabbit dressed in a brown skirt suit, and carrying a lawyer's briefcase with her. Winnie looks like she's seen better months. Maybe better years. The deep circles under her eyes and her pallor make her seem more like the undead man in the room than the other living souls populating it. Her hair has been scraped back from her face into a high bun that makes her seem even smaller, and younger.
Winnie's expression however does not look like a rabbit. Her eyes are sharp, and she nods again to Avrenne, her brows drawn deep into a V for a moment longer. The look on her face alters as she glances into the room to see the assembled persons, and there's a startled flinch of a jump she can't quite help at the sight of Harvey in his armor.
Avrenne touches Winnie's arm, ushering her gently. The Duchess' eyes flick around the room quickly, and land briefly on Harvey. Nothing, absolutely nothing changes about her expression, but for that tight moment of freezing of all movement. Only Harvey truly knows how deep a pain hits her, although Siamus likely suspects. Her hand goes to her waist and her chin goes up. "I shall leave you to it," she says, cool and brisk as the fall wind, already withdrawing rapidly with one final look back at Siamus.
Winnie steps into the office, clutching at her bag like a security blanket. "Um."
Siamus straightens from the bookcase, his gaze on his wife. It lingers as she withdraws, and then he turns his focus to Winnie and smiles at her. "Lady Alwynneria." He gestures at the desk in an It's all yours fashion.
Miss Curran lifts her glasses on their gold chain to poise them correctly on the bridge of her nose, and takes up an attaché case from the bookshelf beside her. She offers Winnie a brief, composed smile.
Harvey himself freezes at Avrenne's presence, however brief, and for a moment he forgets his facade of breathing, holding still as a corpse, denying himself the urge to look at her.
Lathrik, however, whistles, thawing Harvey's expression into a frown. "Oi. Heck of a beauty you landed, Fallon. I'm almost jealous." His gaze then flits between Winnie and Harvey. "Nothin' to be afraid of, Miss Lawyer. The dog won't bite you here."
Whatever opinion Harvey has on being called a dog, he keeps to himself.
"The Duchess is indeed a beauty, and I count myself a fortunate man," Siamus agrees with smooth geniality. "I'd ask ye no' whistle at or about a lady in her home, however."
He moves ahead of Miss Curran to take one of the chairs and lift it a little away from the others, arranging it more beside than before the desk. Once it's in position, he steps away, and Miss Curran settles into it, smoothing her skirts and crossing her ankles neatly. She nods up at him, flicks a look between Harvey and Lathrik, and then busies herself opening her attaché case to produce a pencil and notebook.
If Avrenne hears or acknowledges the whistle, there's no indication of it, the door shutting quietly behind her.
"Hello," Winnie mumbles as she looks awkwardly between Lathrik and Siamus with the air of someone unsure if she should get involved at all or say something more, and then scoots around them all to the desk. Unlike Avrenne, Winnie does not have any faerie glamours to aid her in appearing intimidating or taller. In fact, for someone who is essential to the process about to happen, she seems to be attempting to fade back into the background, blend in with desk while Siamus secures Miss Curran's seating. Whew, she made it to the chair. Good job, Winnie.
Winnie sits in a bit of a quiet plop, and sets her briefcase on the desk, opening it without making eye contact with anyone. "So, um. We'll be going over, uh, the elements of the trial coming up, going over what you'll need to know, and I'll be preparing you for your testimony, and for the cross questioning, Harvey." She clears her throat. "D-do you have any questions for me since th-the last time we spoke?" Don't think about it too hard, Winnie.
Siamus does not take a seat himself, but moves back to the bookcase behind and to one side of the desk to lean casually again.
Lathrik shrugs. It's possible that whistling a lady — wherever that lady may be — is his idea of politeness. Clearly the gentlemen disagree, despite one of those gentlemen being a death knight. He continues to watch Winnie with fascination. Who brought this cute little bunny into the room?
Harvey returns to his regularly scheduled breathing after Avrenne exits. "I do not have any questions as of yet," he says, trying to keep his voice gentle. "Please proceed."
The Fallons technically brought this particular bunny to the room.
"Okay." Winnie removes several pieces of paper from the briefcase, setting each one flat on the surface. Her handwriting is practically unreadable, where if she entered into a Bad Handwriting competition of doctors writing prescriptions, she might actually win. She exhales heavily, and looks up at Harvey. Glances at Siamus. Looks back at Harvey. She can do this. It's gonna be fine.
"Have you ever witnessed a trial by judge in person, or served as a juror in a trial by jury?" Winnie asks the question with a no-nonsense familiarity of someone following a well known professional script.
"I have never served as a juror," Harvey says, his internal sigh almost becoming a visible one. "But I have attended a number of trials, alongside my father. It has been quite a few years since, of course."
The study door opens discreetly, just a gap, and it's Miss Curran who rises at once to her feet, as though she'd anticipated this. She lays notebook and pencil in her seat and crosses on swift, silent steps to the door. She leans out of the room for a brief, soft-voiced negotiation, and then straightens back into the study with a tray in hand. The door is drawn closed behind her.
She brings the tray to the desk and sets it down quietly by Winnie. On it is a ceramic French Lordaeron press of fresh coffee and a matching cup. Just as quietly, she returns to her chair and takes up notebook and pencil again, settling attentively.
Winnie nods, reaching out to take the coffee cup with such automatic confidence that she almost — almost — manages to pull it off that it was on purpose when she takes a sip of empty air, because she did not pour the coffee first.
She clears her throat, more than a little pink as she sets the empty cup down and starts the process over again properly: pour coffee, obtain coffee. "Okay, then you know the process at least. For ours, we have secured a closed court." She glances in the direction of the door where the Lady Fallon was. "As well as a judge that I think is probably for the best." She makes a note on her own papers, frowning again. "Judge Darby wouldn't have been my choice for the easiest, but…I think maybe the right one for this. He's not, um, on either side of the issue at the moment, in terms of known opinions stated and implied through his rulings on the issue at hand. So, we'll go in as blank slate as I think we can.
"Do you, um, have a, uh. A suit? To wear. Y-you should probably have a suit." Oh, we're getting a little squeaky at the end there.
Lathrik applauds, a slow, deliberate clap, at Winnie's failed coffee attempt. He actually looks impressed. Another of his intended compliments, presumably. He quiets down once she starts to speak again.
There is a mild twitch of irritation from Harvey at Lathrik's behavior, but he saves his attention for Winnie. "A neutral judge will ultimately be better if we can produce a favorable outcome," Harvey agrees. "Less fallout would be directed at the Ebon Blade by dissenters claiming the trial was fixed. As for attire, I…do not currently have anything appropriate. I will see that remedied."
"You can dress 'im up, but he's still gonna be what he is," Lathrik interjects.
"I'll have my tailor see to ye, Morningdew, if ye like," Siamus offers mildly. He ignores Lathrik completely.
It is Miss Curran who says, with the prim composure of a governess who has both Seen Some Shit and Sent It To Bed Without Dinner, "A little less from you would be helpful, Mr. Dinnsfield."
"S-some people look more at the dress, than the, um. Person." Winnie ventures. She is still pretty pink from her coffee moment. She drinks the coffee as hot as it is, and sets it back down. "Which I guess is as good a time as any to bring up what we have at the moment from the prosecution, of what they've entered into evidence and what they've formally charged you with, that we will be pleading not guilty to.
"First, they will be charging you with first degree murder, which is very good news." She pauses. Wait. They might not — uh. "I mean, um, good news for us because they're going to fail at it because we do have the evidence to prove that it was, at most, involuntary manslaughter, and it will mean that another charge of theirs will also fail, because they're going to try to prove collusion, and they don't have the necessary evidence for it, but they think they do. They've also thrown in a charge of Disturbing the Peace, which is where we will be counting on Judge Darby to waive as irrelevant as you were attacked, but we're working on ensuring that even if they manage that one, the sentencing will be negligible." Winnie separates out two of her papers. "You are also being charged with aiding and abetting the kidnapping of the priestess Jenzelle Halveris and the Argent Crusade soldier Brendol Westwind."
Harvey blinks at that last charge. "Pardon?"
Lathrik stifles another whistle and glances at Harvey.
That particular revelation gets Siamus to straighten up from the bookshelf, his brows knit. "How do they figure that?"
Winnie sighs, and slides over a paper with writing that, honestly, can Winnie even read it? "A search and seizure of your property, Harvey, following your arrest for the purpose of collecting evidence turned up a letter addressed to you and in your belongings from one Kaela Mondragon, using language that implies that you have been working with her, or for her, and have been in collusion with the Scourge through her. They intend to use this to prove that you did this on purpose, at her behest, and that you have been in league with the Cult of the Damned and the Scourge."
Miss Curran sets her notebook and pencil on the edge of the desk, rises and goes across the room to the hearth. She pours a cup of tea, black, and brings it back to hand it to Siamus.
Siamus, who very much did not ask for a cup of tea, accepts it reflexively and nods his thanks, and is thus distracted by Manners from what might have been an Outburst of some kind.
He does hold the teacup rather like he might throttle it, and regards Harvey like he is imagining Harvey is a teacup right now.
Miss Curran resumes her seat. Next potential crisis, please.
"And here I thought this was going to be boring," Lathrik pipes up, straightening in his seat. He sends a winning smile to Miss Curran. He stifled (1) whistle, so she got a little less from him. What an obedient young man.
Harvey, for his part, begins to scrape his armor, one finger scratching loudly, obnoxiously, perhaps, against his legplates. "Was that her plan?" he mumbles to himself. "No…she could not have known that I would keep the letter… Could she?" The scraping gets louder. "Brendol Westwind was present when I received that letter," he says eventually. "It was when Ralaea Westwind was being held by Kaela and we were attempting to locate her."
The look Miss Curran gives Lathrik conveys she doesn't yet admire his restraint.
Winnie flinches at the sound of the scraping armor, and her eyes dart nervously to Siamus with his teacup, and back to her paperwork, eyes on the papers, soothing…soothing papers. Legal papers.
The lawyer nods. "He's, um, he's one of your character witnesses, so it will be a good counter point. The evidence they intend to use primarily to prove that you were involved in the kidnapping itself is circumstantial. The most damning bit of evidence they have for you is that you were aware of the kidnapping, and that you were not present during the successful rescue attempt. This is pretty thin for evidence, and we have some statements of our own from those involved in the rescue that Kaela Mondragon did not behave as though she had prior knowledge of the rescue, and that you did have knowledge of some of the specifics that you could have passed on to her.
"This is, uh. This is." She clears her throat. "Where you will need to testify as to your whereabouts, why, and why you kept the letter. I will be asking you several questions to help you explain in your own words why, and that is part of why I am here today to help make sure you are prepared for those questions."
"That's absurdly thin evidence," Siamus agrees. At the little darted glance from Winnie, he'd stopped strangling his teacup and reverted by force of will to Relaxed Mode. He offers Harvey a brusque nod of reassurance.
"I wish I did not have to utter her name in such a setting…" Harvey murmurs, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Winnie nod nods to Siamus, relaxing slightly in reflex at his own easier manner. "It's really good news for us. I think… I think the Prosecution was counting on a more biased judge, and to sell this through provoking you directly in questioning, trapping you into confessing." Winnie makes a face — not quite an eyeroll, because she is a Professional, but it's getting there. "But, Stuart can be like that." She takes out a pencil from her briefcase in her left hand and sets it over a paper only half filled with writing. "Can you tell me about your relationship with Kaela Mondragon, and the meaning of the letter, Harvey?"
"From… from the very beginning, or only the relevant beginning?" Harvey asks. "Because I did briefly make her acquaintance in Lordaeron."
"I'm not…um. I'm not sure what might or might not be relevant in this case. The very beginning, if you…if you don't mind, and if it's um, not relevant then…" Winnie trails off. Will she actually halt him? Um. Probably not. Maybe someone else will. Who knows.
"I expect we'd best have all of it ye can give," Siamus suggests. "Lady Alwynneria can decide what's useful or no'."
"My Lord Father was rather…patriotic, and once threw a party to celebrate veterans of the First and Second wars and their families," Harvey begins. "That included the Mondragons. Kaela, her younger sister Alynnra, and their father were present. I only exchanged introductions and a handshake with Kaela at the time. As I understand it, she was in training as part of the City Guard in the Capitol. She stood aside during the party, alongside her father. I shared a dance with the younger one, Alynnra. The two seemed nothing alike. Kaela was cool and composed, Alynnra was a nervous wreck. Aside from meeting them, and the dance, nothing significant happened."
You know who else's father was patriotic and into veterans? Somewhere in the townhouse, Avrenne sneezes.
"That is all you remember of her at that time? This was your first meeting, and she didn't say anything in particular, or express some…um. Cool…uh, interest in you or…" Winnie struggles with putting the idea out there. Did she think you were hot back then, Harvey? "A connection of some sort? Encouragement, maybe?"
Siamus surveys Harvey. He can see it.
Miss Curran also surveys Harvey. She can't.
Winnie gets you, Miss Curran.
Harvey stares at her. "I-interest? She watched the dance, but I assume she was watching her sister, specifically. If there was anything more, it was impossible to tell. The Lady Fallon was present at this particular party. Perhaps she knows something more. In any case, I do not believe she was interested?" It is definitely a question. It is also very likely that Harvey was navigating parties with Raedar at the time.
Winnie makes some notes. "What year was this?"
"Year eighteen, I believe." Harvey watches her write.
Lathrik is bored again, and has resumed tapping on his sword sheath. Clearly nobles and parties are not in his interests.
Winnie's hand twitches into motion, flick flick. Yeah, that could be the year 18 she's written. "And what happened after that?"
"I did not see her again alive," Harvey replies.
Ooh, death, now Lathrik is paying attention again.
"The next time I heard her name was from Ralaea," Harvey continues. "I learned Kaela had become a Commander of the Scarlet Crusade, and had passed on in its service. And that the younger sister, Alynnra, was responsible for an injury caused to Ralaea."
Quick notes. "Okay. So, that's very good news." Again, Winnie, they — She jerks her head up. "I - I - I mean, not, not to hear she was injured. I'm very sorry to hear that she was. I just mean. That you have very good independent reason to - to have felt that there was a clear and present danger to your, um, fiancee, but not yourself. There's, um. We have…" She flips through her papers, quickly, and pulls out one from below a stack.
"You should be aware that we have an agreement with your primary witness to your attack, one Almeiria Fey, that we do not use anything discovered to support your case by establishing one against one Alynnra Mondragon that could lead to a potential conviction or charge, due to reasons of being a vulnerable person. Miss Fey's cooperation is contingent on this agreement."
Harvey's eyes narrow into something slightly less gentlemanly. "Does it say anything about going after the priestess herself, once this is over? Just…curious."
Lathrik watches Harvey intently, his grip a little tighter on the handle of his sword.
Winnie goes pale. "I. Um."
"Morningdew," says Siamus sharply. "I fail to see the humor." The tone makes clear he does not think it was humor, but we are all now officially going to pretend that it was. Just ol' Bad Joke Harv, makin' one of his wacky Bad Jokes.
"As-as your lawyer I would advise you that you do not undertake any action against a member of the Church of the Holy Light subsequent to having been on trial for first degree murder of three priests, and of aiding and abetting the kidnapping of another priestess," Winnie adds, her eyes back on her paperwork. It's a bad look, okay, Harv. "Please. Um. Continue with your relationship with Kaela Mondragon preceding this current incident?"
"It was…poor timing," Harvey relents, closing his eyes for a brief moment before refocusing. "The next time I saw Kaela Mondragon, she was a Death Knight. I had been serving as an intermediary between Jenzelle Halveris, the Argent Dawn, and Cobalt Company. At the time, she was still active in the Scarlet Crusade, but was attempting to convince the rest of her squad to leave it with her, and join Cobalt Company instead. We were in communication via secret letters. When the reports stopped coming, I… The Argent Dawn could not spare the resources to investigate, especially not for a Scarlet Crusader, and so I left by myself to…"
This part of the story is visibly hard for him. No mask is strong enough to cover his distress. "Jenzelle was a friend of Ralaea's," he explains. "The squad was one they had both been part of, under Kaela Mondragon. I thought…if Jenzelle was in trouble, if I could…help her, then Ralaea would be happy. But…" The armor scraping starts up again, this time on his knee. "I left in the middle of the night, and told no one where I was going. One person did notice me, however…that being Brendol Westwind, and he followed. When we found Jenzelle, her squad was dead. Killed by Kaela. The Death Knight. I shielded Jenzelle and engaged Kaela myself, but she…"
One of his hands moves to the hole in his Argent Dawn tabard. No, he will never take the tabard off, fite him. "I bought time for Brendol and Jenzelle to escape, at least." Harvey's gaze is distant, now, as if he isn't in a nobleman's study, preparing for a trial that could end his existence for the second time.
Lathrik, mercifully, remains silent. Even he isn't about to mock a soldier's death.
Winnie's hand moves rapidly as she takes notes as he speaks, and she bites down on her lower lip as he reaches the inevitable conclusion.
Siamus inclines his head in solemn silence, a moment of grave respect.
"That was…That was very brave of you," Winnie says eventually. Her voice is very small, but the sentiment seems sincere. "I'm really sorry that that happened to you." She takes a deep breath, and continues, not making eye contact with Harvey, "For the purposes of your testimony, you will want to be very clear to the judge that it was Kaela Mondragon who ended your life, and not other circumstances of environment or other elements at work at the time. We'll use it to start establishing your innocence and that you have been repeatedly targeted by Kaela Mondragon. Please, um. Continue."
"I awoke in the thrall of the Lich King." The statement is said (by a zombie) in a neutral, even tone. Harvey folds his hands in his lap before continuing. "Mondragon was the one who handled my training, and who directed my efforts during our servitude. I was not aware, at the time, that the rest of her squad were or would also be raised. Until the battle of Light's Hope, she devoted her efforts to me alone. In the aftermath, she fled, and Ralaea gave chase. This was what led to the search for Ralaea, and the discovery of that letter. I kept it, because I felt Mondragon was attempting to manipulate me, and thought it might hold a clue to prevent me from playing into her hands."
Winnie frowns, writing quickly. "Do you know what she is referring to in her letter, um," she pauses as she moves through her papers, eyes scanning rapidly. "Can you explain why she wrote, 'I will see you both again soon, in Northrend. Don't disappoint me this time'?"
"Kaela Mondragon left for Northrend knowing Ralaea would follow her, and knowing that if Ralaea followed her, I would follow Ralaea. As for that last part…" Harvey shakes his head. "I have been over and over it in my head, but I still do not know what she wants. Perhaps it was because I failed to catch her? The cave was empty by the time we discovered it. But that does not make sense. I would think she would not want to be caught."
"The Prosecution will be leaning heavily on it, and he will press you hard on the point. If he goes too far, I'll step in, but your best defense is to be honest that you do not know what she was referring to, and to answer only exactly the question the prosecution asks. If he gives you yes or no, answer that way, don't over explain. Can you confirm for me then that you were part of the, um, Ebon Blade after the Battle of Light's Hope, that others can attest to your state as being no longer under the Lich King's control, at the time of this letter, having to the best of your knowledge left any service or relationship personal or professional with Kaela Mondragon?"
"Yes," Harvey says. "That much is certain. I have since engaged her in combat, though she did not kill me, perhaps because she knew Cobalt Company was in pursuit."
"That would be…you would be referring to the incident on…" Winnie moves her papers rapidly, scanning for something. She must land on it, because she nods. "The incident involving Almeiria Fey, Alynnra Mondragon, Alysson Mondragon, yourself, and Cobalt Company on the 31st of March of this year? This is, um, when you were allegedly attacked by Kaela Mondragon a second time?"
"Almeiria Fey, the witness?" Siamus asks, his focus swiveling to Winnie.
Winnie nods. "Yes. She's, um, involved with Alynnra Mondragon."
"Is there no concern of a… bias? Predisposition? Based on prior contacts?" Siamus knits his brows at Winnie.
Winnie nods again. "According to statements, it was a brief, um, encounter. Almeiria Fey was injured by Kaela Mondragon during an alleged attack in which Harvey was present, but did not recognize or know Harvey at that time, and did not have any contact with him afterwards until this recent incident."
"I was not attacked by Kaela, I did the attacking." The irritation in Harvey's voice is mild, but present.
Winnie frowns, squinting at her notes. "I have it noted that you were allegedly attacked by Kaela Mondragon, discovered wounded outside the vrykul stronghold of…Shalerbron? Although, um. No one witnessed this particular alleged attack, only that you went after her, and that upon being located you claimed to have been attacked by her, and that she fled to whereabouts unknown to you." She glances at Harvey, and rapidly drops her eyes again. This is looking real great, Harvey.
"I went after her after forcing her to retreat from the two she was attacking, one of which happened to be that priestess," Harvey says. "I started the attack."
"That is consistent with what Miss Fey reported," Winnie says. "But we have no witnesses for what occurred afterwards between you and Kaela Mondragon. I believe that if the Prosecution learns of this particular detail that he will press on it, and use it to imply that you used that opportunity to, um, collude with Kaela Mondragon."
"That wasn't colluding! It was… She was…" Doubt passes through Harvey's expression.
Winnie looks mildly alarmed, and then drinks some coffee like she's hoping to swallow down her own nerves. "Can you please explain in your own words what you believe happened that day?" It comes out confident, and smooth, and extremely well practiced.
Siamus is proud of you, girl.
"She did not kill anyone…" Harvey says slowly. "She attacked them near where I was operating. When I joined the fight she lured me away, then defeated me in the same manner in which she killed me the first time, only, she knew it would not be fatal. She said I may be of use to her after all, and when I…attacked her when she turned to leave, she praised me." He stares at his hands. "Am I merely a pawn on her board?"
Winnie's expression does a weird thing, some sort of little wobble before she puts on that same firm, no-nonsense voice, and yes, a phrasing that seems to be one she must say often, "No. You are a survivor of her repeated attacks and harassment, and you are entitled to your feelings of uncertainty, but you are not responsible for her actions, or her intent. Should Kaela Mondragon ever be apprehended by the Kingdom of Stormwind, she will be held to the full account of the law." The words are out before she really thinks them through, clearly, because she deflates instantly after her conclusion. "Th-that is if, well. Um."
"She will be," Siamus says, coldly confident.
"If death knights are recognized in the eyes of the law," Harvey finishes. Still, her words seem to have reassured him, at least enough for his calm social mask to return. "Thank you, Winnie. I see Kaela Mondragon as an enemy of the Alliance and the Ebon Blade, and would never willingly or knowingly aid in her plans."
Winnie gives Harvey a small smile, and nods, shifting her paperwork around again, in a way that at least seems purposeful rather than only to busy her hands. "When you give your testimony in court, and when the Prosecution asks you, that is what you should say. Be firm, and don't let him bully you into feeling like you should have known more. Hindsight makes everyone confident that they would know exactly what to do, and they would see through everything, but we don't know that." This, too, has that sound like she's said it more than once, it has that measured confidence.
It doesn't last. "If you…was that the last time you can recall seeing Kaela Mondragon in person?"
"Yes," Harvey says. "Though it is my understanding that she was at Voldrune with Jenzelle and Brendol."
Winnie just makes an 'mmhm' sound, her eyes scanning her papers. "You remained in Stormwind for the entire duration of that, um, incident?"
"There was some travel between Stormwind and Ironforge, via the tram, but I was with Ralaea during that time," Harvey replies.
"She might be called as a witness to your activities," Winnie says, biting at her lower lip. "One of the concerns I have is that there are, apparently, witnesses of the Church of the Holy Light that state that you were seen repeatedly outside the Cathedral of Stormwind, dressed in, um, bl-bloodied armor, and…with a, a — " She takes a sip of coffee before she can clear her throat. "'Menacing manner.' This is I think part of the prosecution's plan to paint this as premeditated."
"I was guarding Ralaea," Harvey says flatly. "I was only there when she was inside. If anything, I was focused rather than menacing. If people were menaced it's because I am a death knight, not because I was being overtly threatening. And…she may be called as a witness by who? Do NOT put her up there, I swear by the Light, she will say something stupid."
Siamus's expression twitches and he contemplates his tea. Ralaea, say something stupid? Gosh.
Winnie swallows hard. S-speaking of being menaced. "I…I might have to, Harvey. She is your only alibi, and I-I will be briefing her just like this for any statements she might need to make. We want to establish that there was a credible threat to her safety. But…I…I'll see what else we might be able to do."
"If she's necessary to your defense, Morningdew, then she is. Lady Alwynneria is best-suited to know that. And she can see Miss Westwind properly coached and instructed, as she says. We'll try to… limit improvisation, aye?" Siamus lifts a mild look to Harvey. "Ye might have some more faith in the lass."
Does he mean Rae or Winnie? Ambiguous.
Winnie gives Siamus a grateful little smile, and it makes her look, oddly, a little older for a moment, small lines forming around her eyes. She might not be as young as she first appears, after all. "I know that it's daunting, to be on the witness stand. It might have been easier if you were already, um, married. A spouse can't be compelled to testify against their spouse, or used as a witness against their spouse. But, um. That, that doesn't apply to, um. Fiancee." Anyway. She shuffles her papers together again.
Harvey leans back in his seat, somehow still well-postured. "I am going to die," he announces.
"What, spontaneously?" Siamus asks. His tone is withering. "Lady Alwynneria knows her work and knows it well. She's the finest lawyer in Starmwend, she's working like a fiend on your behalf, and I'm paying her a goodly sum for that work, so I expect we'd both appreciate if ye'd no' keel over before any judge actually decrees it. I might remind ye that there's more than your own neck at stake here. The future of Ebon knights in this Kingdom is under some shadow at the moment, so if ye could spare us all the theatrics and do as your attorney instructs for the good no' just of yourself and your affianced but also your comrades, a great many people would no doubt be obliged. Keep it together, man."
Miss Curran flicks a glance at Siamus. She has nothing to add at this time.
Winnie blushes, and ducks her head, but she smiles again.
“It is not me you need to remind, it is Ralaea,” Harvey says flatly. “Keeping her opinions to herself is not her strong suit. If you are not concerned about placing her on the stand for questioning, you should be.”
Winnie gives Harvey that same smile, sitting up straighter. "It's not that I have no concerns. It's only that it's not unfamiliar territory for me to have witnesses that are not necessarily going to give the most, um. Perfect answers. I realize how this might sound, but — a lot of my work is with younger children, some of whom have to give testimonies about things they don't really understand, who will say things in unpredictable, sometimes overly honest or misleadingly honest ways. Obviously, Ralaea is not a child," Winnie stresses, leaning forward. "And she does understand what is happening, and she has u-understandably strong feelings about the matter. But, I believe that she is more than capable of doing what needs to be done, and that she can be worked with as a reasonable person who wants to see you acquitted and remain — " Uh oh. The smooth words falter, as she trips on the word alive. Uh. UH. Come on, Winnie. Anything! A synonym! Something! Don't just pause awkwardly and —
The silence is hanging there. Please. Someone. Anyone.
Siamus sets his teacup down on the edge of the desk and folds his arms. "She wants to see ye remain free and well, and for the two of ye to marry, aye? Ye promised the young lady a future, and a gentleman abides by his promises." If Siamus has thoughts on the nature or quality of that future, he does not voice them. Not the time, buddy.
“Perhaps you will have better luck with her than I have,” Harvey relents, with a glance towards the ceiling. “Be aware that she does not always act in her own self interest. Half of her Company has rather strong…feelings…about me ever since we had a certain miscommunication. And that was when I was still among the living.”
Winnie makes a note on her papers. "Um. Well. That's…uh." She doesn't seem to know where to go with that, so she doesn't. Wow, look at that fresh coffee. Time to take a sip. Fresh coffee, fresh direction for her client. "We won't want to be leaning too much on anything that you did while, um, alive. In part because there isn't anything that…will really help you now, except in establishing your identity. So, we'll be focusing more on the present, and your more current activities. The prosecution has the burden of proof to prove that you have been working for the Scourge, but we can help your defense by demonstrating what you have done against it. What would you say you have done to that effect over the past year?" The way she's asking it makes it sound like she thinks this is an easy win, maybe meant to be of better thoughts than Ralaea on the stand.
"Thinning the vrykul population in Howling Fjord has been a large part of my activities, though I did this at night in an effort to keep the living from…having to see it. I also killed my parents, but you knew that part. Perhaps I should leave it out. Aside from that, my efforts have been devoted to Ralaea and keeping her safe from Kaela Mondragon and her death knight allies." Harvey seems a bit resigned at this point. This whole situation is only ruining his unlife a little.
Winnie pours herself even more coffee. Light, she's going to need so much coffee. "We'll, um. We'll try to keep it focused on…the vrykul then. And, um. On how important Ralaea's safety is for you. That will, um, possibly also help with demonstrating to the judge that you aren't…um." Different? Dead? Unfeeling? Monstrous? Come on, Winnie, think. "Someone whose feelings are to be disregarded." Nailed it.
"There is a small chance that we might get far enough through your defense that the prosecution might attempt to make you seem like a, um, fall guy or that you were tricked into doing this by Kaela Mondragon. That will be actually a very good sign that we're winning, because he can't have it both ways that you premeditated this and killed those men with intent and didn't know what you were doing. Stuart can come on strong, but he's reactive, and if I can get him to stumble, the judge will know that the prosecution has insufficient evidence. But. You're going to hear a lot of, um, disparaging remarks about your character and actions. It can be very difficult for anyone to hear and sit through."
"And my father will have his last laugh from wherever he is now, I understand." Harvey's expression has gone blank. "I was a failure to him too. I will play whatever game you need me to play, and when it is done I will leave this place."
Siamus regards Harvey, his brows set sternly. "I'm no' clear how your late father's feelings are relevant," he says (do you hear yourself, Siamus?), "nor how anything in what the Lady just said implies failure. The opinions of the general circus are beneath ye; leave them there. The prosecutor will play his role, as you and Lady Alwynneria will play yours, and ye may no' like the role ye've been cast in, but play it as directed until the show's done, and we'll see ye come out of it the better, wi' your present hopes still ahead. There are changes to be made to the laws, your Miss Westwind to marry, the Lich King to bring down, the north to retake — none of that happens without we get through this nonsense first, so man up and keep your eyes on the horizon ahead."
Whatever is going through Harvey's head during this lecture is contained tightly behind a neutral expression. Perhaps too tightly, as there is an echo of it that reaches his voice, a frosty bite to the words, "Yes, sir." His casual breathing has all but stopped. He doesn't need to, anyway.
Lathrik lifts his eyebrows at the tone, his expression one of mild amusement. He shifts his sword a little for a cleaner draw, just in case.
Winnie, on the other hand, looks bolstered by this speech. That's right! It's a play! There are rules and regulations to this judicial social interaction and it's gonna be fine. She is a lawyer!
At Harvey's sharper retort, however, the bunny returns. There's a sound of papers now being gathered back together, as she breathes, maybe a little more loudly than before in an unconscious response to Harvey's own ceasing. "And that's, um. That's all that really…we can do. I, um. That's, uh. That's all…" She stands up awkwardly, still trying to put her papers into her briefcase, but now she's doing it while standing, and there's a bit of a fluster as she closes the briefcase before she's put her pencil back and has to reopen it to toss it back inside. She pulls it to herself like a shield between her and the room.
"I'll- I'll let you know when we have our official trial date. I. I expect it will be soon, now that we have all the. Judge." Right. This is not the most confidently spoken, and Winnie scoots around the desk as she says it, undermining it further.
"Thank ye, Lady Alwynneria. I appreciate the fine work ye do." Siamus offers her a smile. "Shall I walk ye out?"
Miss Curran offers Winnie an encouraging smile of her own, eyes warm behind her glasses. Ur doin great, honey.
Winnie smiles back at Miss Curran, with a tiny little bob of her head. She needs so many cookies right now. Ha ha any way.
She shakes her head to Siamus. "Thank you, but I'm fine. I can, um. Manage." She scoots a little more around the edges of the room, creeping awkwardly closer to the door like maybe they won't notice she's leaving, while she's in the middle of talking and everyone is looking at her. It is not her finest of plans, admittedly. "Goodbye, Harvey. Try to, um. Get some…rest." Do they rest? Winnie doesn't know, and now it's awkward to ask. Just keep going, Winnie. "E-everyone, I mean. Goodbye. Rest."
Maybe Winnie should get some rest. She probably needs it.
Miss Curran rises as Winnie leaves, and gathers her own belongings briskly back into her attaché case. "Shall I see you later, Lord Fallon?" she asks.
"Tomorrow," he says. "I'm for Fallon House this afternoon. I'll be back in the city tomorrow around nine."
"Sir." She bobs an efficient little curtsey and then glides from the room after Winnie.
Siamus leans against his desk, arms folded, and watches her go. Once she's gone, he turns his attention to the other two men. "It will go well," he tells Harvey. "I promise ye, Lady Alwynneria will manage famously, and we'll see ye free of the charges. It will go as well as can. How are ye bearing up? Personally, I mean?"
"Personally, I would rather be in Northrend doing something useful," Harvey mutters. "Having every moment of my existence scrutinized under a microscope is not a feeling I have missed."
Lathrik hums in response. "I bet this means we got a date later, you and I."
"Aye, we'd all rather be useful in Northrend right now," Siamus says — quite an assumption there, buddy — "but tides willing, you'll be back there soon enough. Is there anything ye need, meanwhile? Miss Westwind is very well at present, I assure ye. Her Grace is looking after her admirably."
"As it happens, death knights have rather little in the way of needs. The one need I do have is being taken care of." By this guy, Harvey's expression says as he spares a glance at Lathrik. "As long as Ralaea is doing well, I am…content." That last statement might not be completely true, but he's probably as fine as he's going to get.
"Fond of horses. A good Kul Tiran lass," says Siamus approvingly. "Taken wi' our stables. And mending nicely, the Duchess tells me."
"Kul Tiras…" Harvey considers for a moment. "How is your relationship with your homeland faring? I know they have —and with good reason — withdrawn from the Alliance, but do you still have ties?"
Siamus's warm expression fades to something weary, and he shrugs a shoulder. "At present, I couldn't tell ye truly. I have family over there, and political ties through them, but… something's taken a turn since news of the Wrathgate reached the islands. I'm having trouble getting word to or from there. And I've no' been the most welcome of men since I made my Alliance loyalty clear at Theramore. My sister and my secretary both still have contacts on the isles, though, or should." He glances at the empty chair recently vacated by Miss Curran.
"I am sorry to hear of the trouble," Harvey says. "I had wondered if perhaps Kul Tiras would make a better home for Ralaea, given the current…inhabitants of Lordaeron, and the…politics in the way of its possible reclamation. But that may be wishful thinking on my part."
"It is my deepest hope," says Siamus, "that the King can be made to see sense in the matter, cut his ties wi' Theramore, and bring Kul Tiras back into the Alliance. It's one of the chief goals I've brought wi' me to the House of Nobles. I'm no'… encouraged by the present state of things, but tides do turn. Miss Westwind would thrive on the isles, judging by what I've seen of her."
"While my support likely means little, given that my political pull died with Lordaeron and the public's view of my character is about to be further assassinated, you have it nonetheless," Harvey says. "Returning Kul Tiras to the Alliance would be nothing but beneficial, and for only the cost of Theramore…" He shakes his head. "I wish you great success in the matter. Do you think, pending improved relations, you would consider taking Lady Fallon there for a visit?"
Siamus's gaze softens. "Nothing would please me better than to take Her Grace to Kul Tiras. I would show her the sea wall at Boralus and the coasts of Stormsong, and I'd have her negotiate a contract for stormsilver for the fleet."
The man knows romance.
He inclines his head to Harvey. "I do thank ye for your support and kind wishes."
"I consider her a friend, and from what I have seen of you in recent days, I am confident you will look after her well." Harvey gets to his feet. "I should leave before I trouble her further with my presence."
Lathrik rises as well, smooth as a shadow. Seriously, is this guy really a paladin?
Siamus does not contradict Harvey's last statement, but moves courteously to the study door to open it ahead of his guests. "Thank ye for coming," he says. "I'm sure Lady Alwynneria will be in touch wi'ye if anything changes."
Harvey gives a surprisingly graceful bow, for a dead guy, and steps out into the hall, Lathrik within weapon's reach behind him.
In the hallway on the path to the door, there's a soft sound of a cultured, strongly Lordaeron accented voice speaking; Avrenne's voice carries easily, even when she does not always intend it to do so. She's obviously speaking to her secretary, given the nature of the discussion appears to be examining shifting around a timetable to accommodate a new change. Her back is to the office for the moment.
The secretary is a much older woman, holding a planner and making notes as Avrenne speaks; she is, however, not looking at what she's writing, her eyes facing straight ahead, not focused on Avrenne. An old wound of some sort has caved in half her face, distorting her features. Sophie's head moves slightly at the sound of the footsteps in the hall, and Avrenne pauses mid sentence to turn to look behind her. Like a compass pointing north, her eyes go first to Siamus, but then flick to the other two.
Avrenne's face gives nothing away. Even her body language is controlled this time, her shoulders already held squared off, her chin high and proud, her hands clasped correctly in front of her. And yet, all this truly does is reveal how much of this appearance, this Cold Unfeeling Duchess, must be a facade, as a pang of sorrow and grief go through her, less intensely than before but nonetheless still present, as she catches sight of Harvey.
Harvey freezes in his tracks, having suddenly and unexpectedly lost his battle to avoid looking at Avrenne. His eyes are practically glued to her now, like a hunting dog scenting prey. His expression, however, is twisted in disgust. With a slow and controlled force of will, Harvey raises his hand to cover his face as much as it is able to. "I… I apologize. My timing was not ideal."
Siamus, who is behind Harvey, does not see the expression on the death knight's face, only Avrenne's. Or rather, Avrenne's carefully-schooled lack of expression. He sidesteps quietly around Lathrik and Harvey and moves to stand beside Avrenne. His hands are in his pockets; he does nothing so indiscreet as touch her or acknowledge that there might be distress of any kind. Just going to stand over here now.
The disgust on Harvey's face makes a faint flicker in Avrenne's, just around the eyes and mouth, so rapidly swept away that it's possible to think it wasn't there at all. Her brows raise up, both of them, because she cannot raise only one. Her hand comes up between her and Siamus, a lady's ask for an escort. It's a little odd — as she doesn't seem to be going anywhere at the moment, and he has no reason to need to offer his arm, and yet she does it, with such surety that he will meet her that it seems smooth, reasonable. Obviously, her manner implies, he has come over here to be ready to escort her. Somewhere. Eventually. Don't worry about it.
"I see no need for an apology," she says, and her tone is cool, detached. Her hand curls around Siamus' arm. "You are not interrupting anything of note. The meeting is concluded then? I saw Lady Alwynneria on her way out."
Sophie's lips go thin, and she does a servant's fade to gently remove herself from notice, waiting for some signal by Avrenne if needed.
"Yes, it… She left. I was going to…" Harvey glances behind him, as if looking for a different exit, but there is only Lathrik. Lathrik, who seems to understand exactly what is going on.
"Maybe we won't have to go for that walk," he says with an impassive shrug.
Siamus has given Avrenne his arm automatically, and lays his hand absently over hers. His expression as he watches Harvey is still bland, polite, but his gaze is murky; there is something happening here he does not quite understand but he's pretty sure he's not a fan of it.
Avrenne doesn't seem to entirely know either, but if there's one thing she's good at, it's spotting when two people have some sort of communication at work where they are using a code. Her eyes flick from Harvey to Lathrik to Harvey. "Is there something that you require that you intended to collect on a walk? If you need some quiet or air or…" She leaves the opening, distantly polite. The pain has lessened, a steadying of the grief with Siamus touch, though nothing appears any different on the outside, her expression unchanged.
Harvey shoots Lathrik a disapproving scowl, but receives only slightly raised eyebrows in return. You're on your own here, bud.
With a minor hesitation, made easier by Avrenne's newfound strength, Harvey drags his hand away from his face. "Death knights…" he begins. "Are you aware of how we… sustain ourselves?"
Siamus's hand tightens briefly, involuntarily over Avrenne's on his arm.
Avrenne's chin goes up higher, but there's a moment where something of the real grief slips through the facade, almost an apology in her eyes, and then it's wiped back away; nothing remains but a cold, unassailable Duchess of Lordaeron. Some internal struggle may be at work, some attempt to distance herself from her emotions, or perhaps to disengage with her memories, or possibly that she has set her mind to something else — whatever it is, it has at least a limited success. The pain isn't worse, at least, and there is no fear in her at all.
"I am." Her tone is sharp, and ice cold. "I see. It will not happen again. Good day, Lord Morningdew." She does not, however, move. This is, after all, her home.
Her efforts, while valiant, come a moment too late. As soon as her grief slips through, the glow in Harvey's eyes brightens. The disgust returns, briefly, but the moment she refers to him as Lord Morningdew, his control seems to snap. A slow smirk creeps across his face, and in place of disgust, there is elation.
Lathrik recognizes the sudden easing of tensions in the death knight's body and quickly draws up alongside him, ready to physically block him from the Fallons if needed.
"And yet…" Harvey takes a step towards her, his own head raised as though he is looking down on her. "You wanted to see me, didn't you? That's why you placed yourself in my path."
"Oi. Lord of Blood. Let's shove off, hmm?" Lathrik's hand is on the hilt of his sword, and his phrasing is perhaps a signal to the others, if it is even needed at this point.
Siamus shifts just slightly, just enough to angle himself so his shoulder is between Avrenne and Harvey, a partial shield. "Lady Fallon placed herself in the hallway of her own home, on her own business, Morningdew. I remind ye you're a guest here." His tone is mild, courteous. The look in his eyes is not, but he doesn't move further. He casts a glance at Lathrik and offers a curt nod.
Some other emotion must rush through Avrenne, because that sense of pain cuts off with a suddenness of someone turning off a tap, leaving a strange silence behind. For a brief moment, there is a gathering warmth in her palm, one that fades back as Siamus steps forward. She doesn't move at all; her manner does not alter. But now, it would seem, the ice queen goes down deeper than the surface.
"A guest whose business is concluded for the day, as I understand it." Her voice is so cold that someone listening to it might be put in mind of feeling as though somehow they have briefly returned to Northrend after all. "I believe your charge was just leaving for his walk, Mr. Dinnsfield. Do take care.”
There is a brief pause as something, anger, frustration, hunger, passes over Harvey's face, before he seems to wrest control back from whatever demon took hold of him. For a moment, his face is his usual social mask, but as he dips into a bow, he allows embarrassment to show though, perhaps as a form of apology to the Fallons.
"You are quite correct," Harvey says, not looking directly at either of them. "We will be on our way."
Lathrik gives a nod to Avrenne, and a lazy salute to Siamus, before prodding Harvey forward past the group of three. Proper formalities are probably not on his list of important things to remember.
Siamus remains planted where he is, and follows the departing duo with only his gaze, not turning his head.
Only when they have reached the door and are being ushered out by Barbour does he look down at Avrenne, to address her quietly. "I beg your pardon, my lady. He'll no' be invited back here as a guest."
Avrenne is looking straight ahead, that composure pulled in tight. "It's no matter. Invite him as you will in accordance to what is necessary. I thought I saw someone I knew, that is all. I was mistaken. I will not make the same mistake twice." Her gaze flicks up to his, and there is nothing cold in her eyes now, her voice warming, leaning in closer to him like a sunflower turning to follow the sunlight. "Thank you."
Siamus nods down at her, his expression set gravely. He does not bend to kiss her, not in the hallway with guests still present, but the banked warmth in his gaze says what he is thinking.
And then he glances up and toward the door again, watching the departure of the death knight and his paladin shadow.