(2024-11-05) The Red String Interview

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	Almeiria presents herself at Fallon House for the not-an-ambush ambush she knew was coming; the Vice Admiral has questions. Estel has sandwiches. Lena moderates uncertainly.
Rating:	T for Teen

Arc: The Red String Game

The afternoon of November 5th is crisp as an apple, and the western sunlight pours like honey over the grounds of Fallon House, warming the stony walls and setting the many-paned windows aglow in shades of gold and amber. The sea beyond the cliffs is velvet-dark beneath the slanting sun, the waves sighing softly against the shore.

Thredd and a junior groom wait at ease outside the gatehouse; the younger man is keeping his hands warm with a thermos of something, and Thredd is keeping an eye on the road. They are expecting company.

The carriage bearing said company arrives barely on time. It’s certainly not early. It pulls to a stop a short distance from the house, and a dark-haired woman emerges. Almeiria Fey is wearing a robe of deep purple, reminiscent of swirling shadows; far less innocuous than the simple white robe she wore during her time at the church. She looks better dressed for combat than a simple tea party. Still, her smile is as unnervingly sweet as ever as she turns her attention to the two men.

Estel hops out of the carriage after Almeiria. She's wearing nice practical hiking boots and a black pea coat over a blue dress and white stockings. Around her neck is a scarf striped like a peppermint in red and white. She has no luggage besides the messenger bag she always wears. "Hi!" she calls, cheerful, stepping up next to Almeiria.

Thredd nods courteously. He is a wiry little dark-haired man of indeterminate age, with the baked-brown skin and perennial squint of someone who spends most of his life outdoors. "Marms," he greets. "Yewaugumt'Fauonoose." He goes forward to the horses to address the coachman in impenetrable tones; the coachman looks nonplussed.

The junior groom sets his thermos on the gatehouse window-ledge and hurries to join him, possibly to translate for the coachman.

The door to the house opens and a shave-headed giant in immaculate, white-gloved butler's livery steps out. His expression is impassive but he wears a grave air of expectation.

"Thanks," Estel says, flashing a smile at Thredd before he moves past them to the coach. "Okay, it's probably that huge building," Estel says to Almeiria. "Unless there's somehow an even huger building around a corner we ain't seen yet."

Almeiria's smile widens for a tiny window, before returning to her usual mask. "This is the place," she says confidently, striding up to the giant butler, not at all intimidated by his size. Or perhaps she's simply seen him before. "I am Almeiria Fey, and this is my friend, Estel Herald. I believe we are expected."

Vane inclines his head gravely. "Indeed. I believe Miss Coit is waiting in the library." He stands aside to usher them into the broad foyer, where the portrait of a gaunt, flint-eyed Duchess Esprit watches them like a gothic haunting from between the grand, curving staircases.

To Estel, Vane says, "Shall I take your things, madam?" (He does not make the offer to Almeiria because she does not appear to have Things.)

"Oh, uh, am I supposed to take my shoes off?" Estel asks, looking at the carpet uncertainly. That doesn't look like the kind of welcome mat she's used to wiping her feet off on.

"No, madam," says Vane. "It isn't expected. But I'll take your coat and scarf for you if you wish."

"Okay, sure." Estel wiggles out of her coat and scarf and hands them over. "What's your name?"

"Mr. Vane, madam," says Vane, collecting her garments and folding them carefully over his arm. "The library is this way, if you please." He indicates the hallway to the right, and then turns to lead them in that direction, toward the open double doors.

"Thanks, Mr. Vane," Estel says cheerfully, following along.

Almeiria follows as well, her gaze casually roaming, taking in every detail of the place.

Through the double doors of the library, Lena Coit is visible sitting in a white armchair by a coffee table. Her hair is tidy and down, and she's wearing a relatively simple long-sleeved dress in pale green. She does not look ready for combat, merely ready for a tea party. That's not to say she isn't, of course, ready for either. She raises a hand in greeting as the two guests come into view.

"Miss Coit," says Vane. "Miss Fey and Miss Herald for you. I will advise the Vice Admiral. Catrin will be in shortly with your tea."

"Thank you, Mr. Vane," Lena says with a smile, rising from her chair. "I'm happy you two could make it. Please, come on in. Have a seat."

"Hey! I remember you," Estel says, grinning. "The summoner on the ship, yeah? Ben's friend Lena." She waits for Almeiria to pick a chair — Estel is going to sit next to her, wherever she picks.

"Yes, that's me," Lena says, and she remains standing while she waits for the guests to choose a seat. "I work with the Fleet, and so I stay here at Fallon House sometimes. And you were with Ben's team down in the sea, right?" She glances to Almeiria. "You and Miss Fey, of course."

"Lena, dear, we're friends," Almeiria says, sliding smoothly onto the couch across from the fireplace. "There is no need to address me so formally. Almeiria will do." She settles her hands into her lap and smiles sweetly.

Estel sits down on Almeiria's right. She does not put her feet up on the table, but she glances at the table like she might have considered it for a moment.

Lena moves to the armchair closest to the fireplace, across the coffee table from the two of them, and takes a seat. "Almeiria, then. And I realize this was probably a bit of a weird invitation, but I figured we've helped each other out in the past. It's really not an ambush — I should've never writ ambush — just a whole situation I think you're a lot closer to than I am."

"A 'whole situation'?" Estel looks at Lena curiously.

"Yes, do tell," Almeiria says. "Unless the Vice Admiral plans to join us after all?"

"I think he does plan so," Lena says, glancing at the door. "And I think he's got a lot more of everything sorted out than I do, so it might be best to wait till — but it seems to be all circled about Count Amerith."

Vane has disappeared in that disconcerting fashion he has, but now Catrin appears in the doorway in her neat navy blue dress and white apron, pushing a tea trolley. She approaches the table silently and begins to lay out tiered dishes of tiny sandwiches, ginger scones split and filled with apricot preserves and cream, little caramel-sticky apple tarts, and blackberry macarons. She steps back to her trolley to pour tea.

"Oh, that guy," Estel says before she is fully distracted by the arrival of food. "Thanks! What's your name?" she asks Catrin.

"Catrin, miss," murmurs Catrin to Estel, her head down.

Meanwhile, in definitive answer to Almeiria's question, Vice Admiral Fallon enters the library himself. He pauses to survey the little group, his faint, sardonic smile in place, and inclines his head to Lena before approaching. "Miss Fey," he greets. "And Miss Herald. A pleasure to see the pair of ye on dry land."

"Is it? I rather thought you preferred the sea," Almeiria says, sparing Catrin an assessing glance, before turning to Siamus. "Unless you're saying it's better now that we're not polluting it. I agree, for the record."

Estel greets him with, "Hey. Estel's better, if you're allowed to say first names in this house."

Siamus's smile tips up higher at one side at Almeiria's remark. "I do prefer it," he says. "But not everyone does, and I was under an impression most of ye would be glad to see the shore again. So I'm pleased to see ye both safe and dry." To Estel, he says, "Obliged to ye, Estel, but I hope ye will forgive me if I forget to use it; lifelong habit, I'm afraid." He moves to take a seat comfortably on the couch across from Lena.

"'ppreciate it," Estel says. "And the rescue. It was great. Does it help if I say 'Herald' isn't my real last name? And I just made it up to have somethin' to put on the forms?"

Siamus raises his eyebrows. "That sounds like a piece of a tale, there."

Lena looks curious as well, but she doesn't add any inquiries for the moment.

"Not much of one," Estel says, waving a hand. "Orphan, never knew my parents, left in a basket on the monastery steps. Am I allowed to eat that?" She gestures towards the table.

"Please." Siamus waves a hand courteously at the food. As Catrin approaches to hand him a cup of black tea, he smiles up at her. "Thank ye, Catrin."

Almeiria collects her tea from the coffee table and takes a slow, deliberate sip, her eyes flicking between Siamus and Lena. "Would I be correct in assuming you aren't truly involved in this 'situation,' Lena, dear? That perhaps you called me here on behalf of your employer, who may have had doubts that I would come if he called?"

Lena reaches forward to snatch a ginger scone, maybe more to open the game than out of any appetite. She says mildly, "Would I be correct in assuming you spoke to me after Naxxramas because you didn't think it'd go as well if you spoke to my employer directly? Good friends play the same games, sometimes."

Estel picks up the entire dish of tiny sandwiches and sets it in her lap.

Almeiria does not look at all surprised, and actually seems a bit pleased by Lena's response.

Siamus crosses his legs and looks between Lena and Almeiria blandly. "I trust ye will forgive Miss Coit for acting the intermediary, Miss Fey, as she did for ye yourself in Northrend. I did instigate the invitation, but thought Miss Coit's presence more likely to set ye at ease. I'm glad that Miss He–Estel could join us today as well.

"The invitation isn't purely social, as ye've deduced. I've questions about certain events and connections, and I believe ye can enlighten me."

Estel stacks five tiny sandwiches on top of each other, spreads a napkin over her lap to catch crumbs, and returns the tiny sandwich plate to its place so the others can have some too.

Lena takes a little bite of her scone.

Almeiria turns her attention back to Siamus. "Events and connections," she repeats. "And something to do with Count Amerith? I might be able to enlighten you, but it depends on what you want to know. As I'm sure you're aware, the Count is currently an… ally of mine, and one I'm not yet ready to discard."

Siamus inclines his head in acknowledgement. "That is, in fact, part of what I'd like to ascertain. I did assume, based on your current living arrangement, that he is an ally. Has this been the case long? Since — or even before — he was squiring 'Lady Ravendusk' about last year?"

"I don't keep track of the Count's playthings," Almeiria says lightly. "What he did before is his business. I was in Northrend."

"Oh, aye, as I was myself," Siamus agrees mildly. "Except for those occasions when I was back here, as for the Charity Gala and my wedding." He watches her steadily.

Estel's jaw cannot unhinge far enough to eat her quintuple tiny sandwich-sandwich. She picks the top two off the stack and eats them together.

Lena is distracted briefly by Estel's attempt to unhinge her jaw, but her attention snaps back to Siamus and Almeiria as he answers.

"Did she catch your attention somehow, this 'Lady Ravendusk?' Or is it Ilanya who concerns you?" Almeiria asks, taking another sip of tea, meeting his gaze.

"I am interested in Ilanya, as it happens, aye. But very much interested in your uncanny resemblance to Lady Ravendusk, as well. Now, ye say ye were in Northrend, but I do know that ye were right here in Stormwind in October of last year, because ye were a vital witness in Morningdew's trial. For which, by the way, I remain grateful. Ye helped to see a justice done." Siamus sits forward and sets his teacup on the table.

"Let me be frank with ye, Miss Fey, as playing coy is not my strong suit. I've no desire to lead ye into a pitfall; I'm only after some frank answers myself. I don't believe that ye trust me, which is fair as I don't entirely trust you, but I'm willing to extend a hand. Ye've done fine work for me in Northrend and again in Vashj'ir — though it was meant to be Tol Barad I sent ye to — and, as I say, ye did a good turn in the Morningdew trial." Siamus settles back again and folds his arms across his chest. "I'd like to know the facts of some things before I go stumbling somewhere I shouldn't, which I think is likely to the benefit of both of us.

"I'm not interested in why ye were playing your Ravendusk game; I don't care about that. I'm interested in the events of October 2nd that Kaela Mondragon set in motion. I'm interested in whether the assassination of 'Lady Ravendusk' was somehow connected. I'm interested in the Twilight's Hammer and their interest in Amerith — or in you, if that's the case and Amerith is protecting ye somehow. I wonder whether ye know anything about a woman called Solari Farrens. And I'm curious as to the nature of your history wi' my ward, Ralaea Westwind."

Estel looks at Siamus with sudden interest. "Rae? She's your ward? Does she live here?"

His gaze flicks to Estel and he nods. "Aye, she does."

"Another good friend of mine," Lena adds with a smile, drawing the conversational lines clearly.

Estel grins. She has sandwich fragments in her teeth. "I know Rae, Rae's great. I can probably elaborate a little bit on that history after the rest of it, 'cause that's how I met Almeiria, but there's some stuff I won't discuss without Rae's actual permission. As her doctor."

Siamus nods respectfully to Estel.

"My history with Ralaea is just that. History," Almeiria says, and there is a spark of undisguised irritation in her eyes. "But as for the rest, Lady Ravendusk was assassinated because of her connection to Count Amerith. If there was another reason, the assassin didn't know it, nor do I. The order was given by Kaela Mondragon, and she had an unfortunate talent for being hard to read. As for the Twilight's Hammer, I am rather curious how you know about their interest in Count Amerith. As far as I am aware, it wasn't announced publicly. The name Solari Farrens does not sound familiar, outside of the obvious potential relation to that reporter."

"I'm not the public," Siamus observes mildly. "And I'll share confidences with allies willing to share their own. Why would Kaela Mondragon care about an associate of Amerith's? Far enough to assassinate her?"

"I can think of two potentials, but the only one who really knows is now dead. Again." Almeiria glowers into her tea. "Either she knew Lady Ravendusk was me and she was attempting to finish the job, or she knew her attempt on the Count would fail, and she wanted to hurt him by taking away one of his toys. Possibly both. Or I could be completely off, which, if we're being honest, is frustrating."

Siamus's smile is a wry twist. "Frustrating, aye. I do sympathize. If ye can hypothesize, though: Mondragon had a grievance with you she might have been attempting to address? Was it to do wi' the Northrend incident regarding Ralaea's arms? And ye confirm that Amerith's own condition was another attempt by Mondragon — what was her grievance with him?"

"I could speak more on both of those points," Almeiria says. "But you see, I have two allies involved, at least one of which is under my protection. Your questions put me in a difficult position."

"We don't necessarily have any grievance with any of your allies, unless you're saying that we should," Lena says, glancing at Siamus in case correction needs to be made. "So the position doesn't need to be difficult, if you can explain why we shouldn't."

Siamus tips his head toward Lena, still watching Almeiria. "And I believe Miss Coit can attest I'm a man of honor. I'll not press ye on the identity of a person under your protection, so long as they're no one who means active harm to any of my people. I'm not here to convict anyone any more than I'm trying to trap ye; I'm looking for the pattern in a complicated puzzle, because there are people I'm interested in protecting and I can't even be sure yet that I'm understanding the threats correctly. I wouldn't like to point blame at the wrong person any more than I'd like to see the right person get away with a harm to someone."

Estel pats Almeiria's arm and gives her a smile. "I've got a good feeling about 'em," she says.

"If you will excuse my saying so, men of honor are usually the sort I struggle with," Almeiria says, her expression chilly despite her smile. It warms a tiny bit at Estel's encouragement. "But let's test it. My ally was working with Kaela Mondragon for a while. Kaela's grievance with me, as you put it, was that I was following them, watching to see what they would do. She doubled back and attacked me after sending my ally on ahead, but was interrupted before she could finish the job. To answer your question, yes, it had to do with Ralaea's arms. But my ally did not stop working with Kaela after that. They were present at a place known as Voldrune when there was a rescue ongoing, I believe."

Siamus leans forward to take up his tea again as he considers all of this impassively. "All right," he says at last. "But you yourself were clearly not in Mondragon's good books. Was your ally involved in — as I understand it — the healing of Ralaea's arms? I'll ask ye no further questions beyond that, so long as we're all in agreement that you weren't Mondragon's ally, which it seems fair clear ye weren't."

"Well, if we're already talking about that, then yes," Estel says. "Almeiria's ally was involved. I don't think I would've been able to figure out the cure without their help, period."

Siamus nods and lifts his teacup to Estel in a courteous salute. "Obliged, then. I'll have no further questions about your ally, Miss Fey, and in return I'd be grateful if ye could lay out for me what ye know about Mondragon's grievance with Amerith."

"What I know is less what I know and more… speculation based on the scene and what I know of my allies," Almeiria says. "I know that one of my allies was set up some distance from Voldrune on standby. They did not end up doing anything. I know that a cannon was found in Voldrune, and that it was from the Darkmoon Faire. I know that Count Amerith has connections inside the Faire. I suspect that Kaela Mondragon approached him somehow to request the cannon, and I suspect that her move afterwards was to silence him, or at least appear as though she was trying to. The only person who knows for certain is, again, dead.

"Which does lead me to wonder why you are bringing all of this up now. The Scourge is no longer a threat." Almeiria sets down her teacup and returns her hands to her lap.

Estel has eaten her five tiny sandwiches. She snatches a scone to eat next. She has not acknowledged in any way that there is tea to drink.

"A lot of the people involved are still here," Lena points out. She has not even finished her scone yet. "And while the Scourge was involved, Mondragon might've been a danger undead or no, her and her allies."

"Are you referring to her time in the Scarlet Crusade?" Almeiria asks. "Because I believe Cobalt Company counts two of those allies among their number. One of which lives in this very house. There is a third working with the Count, but as I understand it, he spent most of his time with Kaela as a block of ice."

"Exactly so," Lena says with a shrug. "So the Scourge is defeated, more or less, but threads from the past — both those times — can still pull on things in the future. And like the Vice Admiral said, some of those folk are ones we care about." That is not exactly what he said, but maybe close enough. "So it still matters. As to why now, maybe because now is when folk can see enough to start trying to make sense of things. Or maybe I'm just behind, I don't know."

Siamus nods at Lena. "And it still matters because other people are still tugging at some of those connections. I can't see what their motives are, and as Miss Coit says, there are people involved who are in my care. Does Amerith have any reason that ye know or can think of to take a continuing interest in Mondragon's schemes and the people connected?"

"You're suggesting he knows what those schemes were," Almeiria says, shaking her head. "As far as I know, his pet death knight should be the only active tie to her, and that was established while I was stuck under the ocean. If you're that worried about it, I could ask Ilanya for more information."

Lena raises an eyebrow at 'pet death knight', but doesn't comment.

"Tell me about Ilanya," Siamus says. "I'm not altogether clear on what it is she does for Amerith, though she's plainly not a maid. Espionage? Protection? Both?"

"She does whatever he asks of her," Almeiria replies. "If you suspect that much already, it's because she's gotten bored of her maid act and decided to tease you."

"It's not me she's teasing," Siamus says. "What was it she did for… Lady Ravendusk, then? Protection? Surveillance?"

"Protection, surveillance, though at first Lady Ravendusk was the one under observation," Almeiria says with a nod. "But as it turns out the two were similar, and Lady Ravendusk earned her trust. Even after her assassination, Ilanya never told the Count her identity."

"She likes children," Estel says out of nowhere.

Siamus stills, startled by Almeiria's revelation. He raises his eyebrows at her. "Is that so? Ye mean to tell me he doesn't know? Or has he learned it by other me–" He cuts off to look to Estel. "She? Ilanya?"

Estel nods. "Ilanya, yeah. She likes kids. That's somethin' I know about her. Whatever stuff she does, I don't think she'd want to hurt a kid."

Siamus nods thoughtfully, weighing this data point for a moment. He returns his focus to Almeiria. "When ye say that Lady Ravendusk was under observation first — was that by Amerith, then, I assume? As Ilanya's his? Did Ilanya take her surname from the Lady?"

"Correct on both points," Almeiria says. "As for how the Count learned Lady Ravendusk's identity… it seems that he becomes a bit too interested in his interests. He cornered me by a mailbox one day and proceeded to describe the lower half of Lady Ravendusk's face as compared to the assassin's."

"… which assassin, now?" Siamus asks. There are a bunch of assassins to keep track of, tbh.

"You might wanna clarify," Estel says to Almeiria. "Compared to the… assassin's? Was that a body swap sort of situation where the dead body found was actually the assassin who tried to kill Lady Ravendusk?"

Siamus tilts his head gratefully at Estel.

"What Estel said. The body did belong to the assassin. It was close enough I had hoped I could get away with it," Almeiria says.

Lena takes another bite of her scone as she watches Estel and Almeiria, looking a little like an audience member in a theater. Maybe she doesn't need to read any mystery novels while she's busy living in then.

"But Amerith recognized the difference. And sniffed you out. Is that when he began… protecting you?" Siamus watches Almeiria intently.

"I didn't need protection until the Twilight's Hammer began to move in earnest," Almeiria says. "He has money and enemies. I wanted to use him, maybe even convince him to make me his wife, and then if he happened to die — from one of his other enemies, I value my life too much to bother — I would inherit. Right now, however, he is of more use to me alive."

"Interesting." Siamus settles back against the couch again, his gaze gone to that abstract distance that says he's erasing the mental whiteboard to adjust some calculations.

Estel collects two scones, wraps them up in a napkin, and puts them into her bag right in front of everybody. "So, uh, Captain Fallon? Is that right? Who are you worried about bein' a threat, exactly?"

Siamus returns from his mental math to focus on Estel once more. "That's in part what I'm trying to sort out. Amerith — or Ilanya, or both — seems to have an ongoing interest in parties connected with the Mondragon business, and I can't tell what his motive is or whether he's got one; I only know that certain people feel threatened by that interest. I wanted to discover whether he had some lingering connection to Mondragon that would make him genuinely a threat to those people. If, however, he was also a thorn in her side, then… that doesn't explain his interest, but it eliminates that potential danger.

"Ilanya's had a hand in all of it, she's been paying some rather frank attention to some people and freely admitted it's surveillance for Amerith, and again, I'd like to sort out whether that's a sinister interest or he's watching out for something or watching over someone. Ilanya's role for him, as best I can gather, seems to be as much protective as it is aggressive, and I wonder whether he means to extend that protection — and if so, why he thinks it's necessary.

"But last — and now most of all — I'd like to know how the Twilight's Hammer comes into it. Because as ye say, Miss Fey, they seem to have a dangerous interest in you. And there's… a missing woman with connection to the Twilights who is of interest to me.

"And," he adds dryly, "as ye know, we seem to be at war with them in a general way."

"Outta that list," Estel says, "I'd put the Twilight's Hammer on the top of the threatometer. Almeiria pissed 'em off big time. Who's your missing woman?"

Lena giggles at 'threatometer,' and then clears her throat, busily fetching herself some tea. There is no giggling in the Red String Game. Probably.

Siamus says, "Threatometer," carefully. It does not seem like a statement. He is trying the word out. "Solari Farrens," he tells Estel. "And how did Miss Fey… piss off the Twilight's Hammer, if I may ask?" He looks from Estel to Almeiria.

"We had a bad breakup," Almeiria says, smiling coldly. "The man who tried to take out Count Amerith while I was away was my master. The one who taught me shadow and void, and raised me from a child. I doubt it really needs to be said, but he's dangerous. Now. I have a question about those certain people you're trying to protect. Do any of them know how to cast their sight into other creatures? It's called Mind Vision in the church."

Siamus raises his eyebrows again. "I can certainly ask them, if ye like. Ye say ye were raised in the Twilight's Hammer?"

Almeiria laughs. "Raised in the cult? Oh, nothing so formal. There wasn't much of a proper organization at the time. The orcs brought that from their home world. I didn't officially join until the Fall of Lordaeron. Oh, and please do ask your people. Either they were watching through Ilanya's eyes, or someone else was, and I think you know which I would prefer."

Estel puts a hand on Almeiria's arm and says to Siamus, "It's a hard thing to leave a cult. Harder still to realize the people who raised you didn't have your best interests at heart, didn't care about you, just what you could do for them. To be very clear, Almeiria got out, and she's staying out. She ain't one of them."

Lena looks at Estel with new interest, perhaps trying the balance whether this is empathy or experience.

Siamus nods mildly at Estel. "I'll believe it." He looks at Almeiria and repeats for her benefit, "I'll believe it. Ralaea Westwind is my ward." He pauses thoughtfully and then adds, "And my people have been made deeply uneasy by Ilanya's inexplicable surveillance of them, so if one or more of them is capable of such a thing, it may be they'd think it a fair turnabout. But I'll have an ask for ye. I can understand in your position why ye'd want the reassurance."

Something in Estel's posture relaxes, and she snags a caramel apple tart and pops it into her mouth. She's going to be chewing on this for longer than she anticipated.

Almeiria nods in acknowledgement. "Now, then. Solari Farrens. You say she has a connection to the Twilight's Hammer, but that could be just about anyone these days. Not only that, do you expect she would be running around in the cult using her real name? If I did happen to know her, I doubt it would be by that. Is it a recent connection she has, or has she been with them for a while? Is she related to that reporter?"

"She'd have been wi'them a while," Siamus says. "From — I can't be sure when, precisely. Around the Second War. After the First, certainly. And no, I suppose she wouldn't be using her real name, though I can't say I'm versed in cult protocol myself. Is 'Farrens' not a common surname on the mainland?"

"There's only one 'Farrens' I can think of who has anything to do with the topic of the rest of your questions," Almeiria says, her sweet smile making a return. "Did I mention Ilanya is a friend of mine?"

"Oh!" Estel blurts out with her mouth full of food. "Azrothnn Nntress!"

Siamus laughs good-naturedly. "Aye," he says to Estel. "Azerothian Interest." He inclines his head to Almeiria, smiling, that sardonic glint in his dark gaze. "I believe she may be kin to Peril Farrens, aye."

Estel looks for a liquid. Oh, tea. Help her, tea, the conses are quencing.

"Around the Second War, he would have been a child," Almeiria says. "That you're asking about this now means there's been a recent development. Something to do with Count Amerith?"

"With Amerith? I don't know. I'm not sure what Amerith would have to do with it, though if he somehow does I'd be very curious to know. But as there's this Twilight business swirling around him, and as I know he's connected to Farrens — the newspaper man — I wondered at a connection myself. I've been looking into Farrens' parents for other reasons — military matter, to do with his father's wartime service — but another possible Twilight link is interesting."

Lena's brow furrows, as this new information settles into an already tangled web.

Estel, having survived the caramel apple tart, wraps several blackberry macarons in a napkin and stashes that in her messenger bag as well.

Siamus glances distractedly toward Estel. "I can ask the kitchen to put a hamper together for ye, Miss Herald," he says. "I know it's a long carriage ride back to the city."

Estel does not remind him of her name because he has just offered to do her a favor. "That'd be great," she says. "Got a bunch of family at home who don't get nice food like this all that often."

Almeiria is silent for a moment, perhaps tucking away a piece of information she didn't actually know. She glances at Estel as she squirrels away food, and a faint smile appears on her face before she brushes it away. "I could find out what Ilanya's — or even the Count's — interest in your people is," she says. "But I don't see how doing so benefits me."

"I couldn't say myself," says Siamus mildly. "Not unless I know what ye'd find to be a benefit. I believe I can be a beneficial friend° to have, and perhaps Miss Coit or Ralaea can speak to that. I can also tell ye that I'd be very grateful to know what the nature of their interest is."

°Different from a friend with benefits, which he can also be.

"I've trusted a fair few men I oughtn't have, and I'd say by now I'm well-versed in warning signs," Lena offers, as someone who sees him as more beneficial without benefits. "I've seen none of them in the Vice Admiral. If he offers you a thing, he means it."

Siamus casts Lena a small, solemn smile with a bow of his head.

"I am humoring you this once, out of respect for my friend Lena, but I believe it suits your interests far better if you avoid associating with me outside of work," Almeiria replies. "I would also strongly suggest that you keep your interest in the Twilight's Hammer focused on anyone other than my former master. Do those things, and you will be more grateful in the end."

Siamus arches a brow. "I've no particular interest in your former master, only in the Twilight connection to Amerith and any possible threat to my people. All of which I believe we've established. My only remaining particular interest would be in Solari Farrens." He smiles humorlessly. "And a general sort of interest in the cult's downfall. But that's a popular interest these days." He tilts his head. "And is that friendly advice or threats? I ask ye honestly. So that I know where I stand when I tell ye I'd be glad to have those answers about their interest regardless."

"That's friendly advice," Estel translates. "Because her former master is very powerful and holds a hell of a grudge, so, like, don't piss him off for the sake of your loved ones, yadda yadda." Estel turns to Almeiria. "Will you find out what Ilanya and the Count are after with his people?" she asks. "Sorry to interrupt the haggling, but at this point, I'm just super curious."

Siamus smiles at Estel. He likes that one.

Almeiria sighs softly. It's hard to sound threatening when the person you're with already knows the nuance of it. "For the sake of knowing what other attempts on my life I might expect courtesy of the Count, I will find out. Whether or not I offer that information will be a different story." She eyes Siamus.

Estel looks at Siamus. "Things that are beneficial to us include safety, privacy, and financially secure futures for the kids."

Lena looks a little surprised at these entirely reasonable desires.

"Those are all the sorts of benefits I'm glad to see to for friends," Siamus tells Estel. "And information is valuable to me. Particularly as the information Miss Fey now means to get is the very specific information I'm after." He looks at Almeiria. "I'm not requiring that ye come regularly to tea. But I'd like those answers and I'd consider ye a friend for providing them."

"Then unless you consider that quietly and to yourself, you will have to ask the Count for it," Almeiria says, bristling. "I don't want any association between us that is able to be tracked by someone with an interest. There is at least one child in this house, and that man has already attacked one of my allies. I can't even go home until I deal with him somehow."

Estel pats Almeiria's arm soothingly.

Siamus leans toward her, his manner somber. "I am deeply grateful, Miss Fey, for your consideration of my family. I assure ye, if that is your concern, that our friendship would remain a silent matter. It would only mean that if you — or your family — should have need of something from me in future, I'd be glad to lend what aid I can. Until such time as ye do call on me, if ye do, there's no one but us to know.

"I've asked ye here in the first place because there are people I'd like to protect from a threat I'm not even certain of. I've respected your own desire to protect your allies. We both plainly understand and appreciate a need to protect people or associations, and we're both capable of it."

"And I am, as you'd guessed, not deeply involved in this whole situation," Lena says, sitting back in her chair. "As long as I stay that way — publicly — you might call on a friend who happens to be in Fallon House with little suspicion toward either side."

Almeiria's composure slowly returns, in part thanks to Estel's presence. When she speaks again, it is with clear sincerity. "I will find out for certain, but if the Count views your people as his, then they are probably safe. At least until they catch his interest in the opposite way. If your people also happen to be the people who saved his life that night, then I would appreciate it if you would thank them for me."

Siamus nods to Almeiria and sits back again. "I will be obliged to ye, Miss Fey." He is silent for a further moment, clearly weighing something. With his gaze level on her — intent, a little assessing — and his expression bland, he adds, "And I will certainly pass your thanks along."

"Gratitude where it's due and all that," Almeiria says lightly. "I would be down a significant resource without the Count. I do hope they managed to avoid attracting my master's attention themselves, or Count Amerith is the least of their worries."

Siamus's gaze turns hard, but he only smiles faintly.

"These are great," Estel says, holding up another scone. "Tell your cook they're fantastic, yeah?"

Siamus flicks a glance to Estel and his smile warms. "I'll do so, thank ye kindly. She's a talented lady. In fact — Vane?" His tone remains conversational, he doesn't raise his voice, and yet Vane materializes abruptly in the doorway.

"Sir?"

Siamus leans back to gaze at him over his shoulder. "Would ye have Cook pack a hamper for Miss Herald? And pass along her compliments. She'd like to bring some things back for her family."

If this is at all a weird request, Vane's expression doesn't show it. From Vane's expression one might assume that people show up here every day to pick up takeout. "Of course, sir," he says, and bows his head in Estel's direction.

"Cheese would be great," Estel says. "And the sandwiches are amazing. And the desserts — really, whatever she's got, I don't want to be a bother. Thanks, Mr. Vane. Really appreciate it, Captain Fallon."

Siamus smiles at her again as he resettles.

"Of course, Miss Herald," Vane says. He steps from the room and vanishes.

"If opposing the Twilight's Hammer is like to draw your master's attention, then we're all of us at some risk," Lena points out, just sidestepping the whole food hamper conversation.

"Perhaps," Almeiria says. "But as I heard it, they interfered with my master directly. That is far more likely to irk him."

"To irk him," Siamus repeats thoughtfully. "Well, I'll be sure to pass along any relevant messages or questions. Was the attempt directed at Amerith, or at yourself?"

"It was a bit of both," Almeiria says. "My master knew where I was at the time. It was a strike meant to isolate me. He intends to slowly dismantle everything I have built for myself until all I am left with is rage and despair, and the only options left to me are to return to his side, or die at his hand. It would be touching if it wasn't such a nuisance."

"Men can be so predictable sometimes," Lena murmurs, taking a sip of tea.

"Almost disappointingly so," Almeiria agrees with a smile. "There's no need to isolate your target, when friends and loved ones can cause more harm if manipulated correctly."

Siamus raises his eyebrows. There is a short, contemplative silence, and then he says dryly, "I'm not sure either 'touching' or 'nuisance' is the word I'd use, but naturally ye understand your own business best." He pauses, tilts his head. "And while I realize neither situation is the same, as someone who's seen some of Ralaea's struggles with her history, and as someone who counts… 'friends' among the Ebon knights, I will say that ye have my sympathies and my respect, Miss Fey."

Estel smiles. She picks something out from between her teeth with her fingers — success! — and eats it. Then she smiles again.

"Is there anything else that still needs an answer?" Almeiria asks.

"I don't… believe so. If ye will advise me — via Miss Coit or Miss Herald, if ye prefer not to have contact — what ye learn about Amerith and Ilanya's interest in my people, I believe that will satisfy the matter." Siamus tilts his head, his gaze black and intent again, and studies Almeiria. He slides an inscrutable look to Estel, and then shifts back to Almeiria and flashes her a sharp-edged smile. "I'm obliged to ye for your time."

"Happy to courier whatever," Estel says, grinning.

"And I hope I've not done anything to make you trust me any less than you did before," Lena says with an open, friendly smile.

"Oh hardly," Almeiria says to Lena. "I came expecting an ambush, and I got one." She gets to her feet, straightening out her robe. "I suspect, Vice Admiral, that you don't want me paying your people a visit?"

Siamus rises reflexively as the lady does. "I would very strongly prefer that ye not, aye," he tells her. "They're sufficiently on edge, and I'd prefer to mediate right now to avoid… volatility. Also, if your former master may be taking an interest, it seems wisest to avoid a direct connection, as ye advise, aye?" His smile remains in place, but there's very little humor in it.

Estel finishes eating all the crumbs in her lap-napkin and bounces to her feet.

Lena rises as well, since everyone is rising. She may be not totally clear on the protocol in this particular situation — avoiding volatility and providing food hampers — but she is following Siamus's lead.

Almeiria holds Siamus's gaze for a moment, then dips into a curtsy, flashing her own sweet smile in return. "As you wish, Vice Admiral," she says. "But I will take none of the blame if they approach me. Oh, and if I catch any more spying, I intend to strike first, ask questions later. I don't have the luxury to determine if it's a misguided fool or a real enemy before I act."

Siamus inclines his head courteously. "I do understand, Miss Fey. And I assure ye I do mean to mediate, not to take their part unexamined. I wouldn't like to see anyone harmed in this business. Nor would they, as I believe Amerith has cause to know."

He bows to her and then turns to Estel. "Miss Herald, will ye come with me just a moment to see Vane about your hamper?" He does not even bother to feign sincerity; it is clear enough that he wants a moment to speak with Estel alone that he presumably doesn't have any conspiratorial or nefarious intent.

"Estel," Estel reminds him cheerfully, because now the hamper has already been established. "Sure thing. I'll meet you at the carriage, Almeiria!"

"Very well," Almeiria says, starting towards the door on her own. She pauses and turns back. "Lena, dear, I do hope when we meet again it's for something more interesting. A comparison of magic, perhaps."

"If you like," Lena says agreeably. "I expect we're most likely to meet again on a battlefield — on the same side, I trust. Hopefully, one where neither of us need guard ourselves from judging eyes. That would be the most interesting."

Almeiria smiles, satisfied, and takes her leave.

Siamus ushers Estel courteously into the hall and then to the left into the grand, paneled dining room with its heavy blue draperies and wall of heraldry. "I'd like to ask your opinion, Miss– Estel," he says low-voiced. "And I want to be clear that I am not asking for your assurance or word or anything of the sort, only your opinion as a friend to the both of them. Do you believe that Miss Fey is any threat to or harbors any ill intent toward Ralaea?

"And before ye answer I will also explain that the reason I'm taking you aside to ask is that if I asked it of or in front of Miss Fey, that would be asking for an assurance of sorts, and I've no desire to wring concessions or get the lady's hackles up any higher. I just want to be certain that my… ward is safe. At least from this direction."

"Rae's safe from her," Estel says without needing to think about it. "Long as Rae doesn't attack Almeiria or threaten her family, it's all good."

Siamus nods. "Ralaea is… growing. I'll see she minds herself, and I'll advise Her Grace." Don't make him get your mother, Rae. "Thank ye kindly, Estel."

At that moment, the kitchen door at the far end of the dining room opens and Vane emerges, carrying a closed picnic basket. Siamus shifts his attention in that direction with a smile, but just before Vane reaches them, he asks casually, "How many children?"

"Two little ones," Estel answers. "And two that are a good bit older, but still part of the family." She smiles at the incoming picnic basket.

Siamus nods equably.

Vane stops and bows slightly, offering the basket out to Estel. "With Cook's compliments."

The basket is very, very heavy. If one is not a 6'7" potentially half-vrykul giant ex-marine, it is probably a two-handed lugging sort of situation.

"Shall I take it to the carriage for you, madam?" Vane inquires.

Estel accepts the basket and nearly drops it the moment Vane is no longer supporting its weight. "Oh! Uh, sure, if you just tell me where my scarf went? Thanks!"

Vane takes the basket back from her carefully. "Mr. Burren has your coat and scarf for you in the foyer."

"This way," Siamus says courteously, as though the short, straight walk back to the foyer might confuse. He ushers Estel out of the dining room and into the hall, and Vane trails them, bearing the basket.