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| Details |
| Author: | inkie |
| Summary: | Having successfully fled I mean escaped from the Emotions surrounding Reniya Hartrim's fate, Siamus Fallon summons the man himself -- and his comrades -- to get some answers. You can get a lot of answers by just waiting for people to give them. A lady surprises him for once. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
Arc: The Red String Game
Siamus waits until the door has closed behind the other three, and then he goes to where Ren is perched and lifts the handle at one end of the sea chest at the foot of the bed to drag it aside. He rests the chest with a thump on the floor by the wall, and then turns back to Adrin and Samiella and gestures to the chair and ottoman nearby. "I'm afraid it's not the most comfortable room at present, but I needed someplace discreet and… away from the other end of the house."
He moves to the end of the room opposite the bed and leans with his shoulder propped against the wardrobe, his arms folded. "Ralaea will bring ye fresh clothes," he tells Ren, "unless she's gotten lost in my rooms somehow. And there'll be drink and food." And then he turns his focus to Adrin.
"Why don't ye start with — " He glances at Reniya again and then back. "I'd ask ye to start wi' the 12th, because that's the last report I had — and Hartrim said he was being followed — but why don't we start wi' the more pressing who and how and why?" He is still barefoot, tousle-haired and disheveled, but the sheer force of his intensity and the command in his manner stamp the image of a naval officer over all of the disarray.
Adrin straightens as if in response to the command, and begins. "There was a goblin bank operating out of the Dalaran Sewers, not part of any of the major cartels that we could discern. We determined that this was not a legitimate operation, and that they themselves were running other fronts such as selling counterfeit goods and fake potions among other things. Our wayward mage, Malus Everdell, made contact with this bank and stole a significant sum, then vanished. They want it back. It seems we may have, towards the end of our stay, given them the impression that we knew where Malus was hiding, and they attempted to press us for everything we knew, including why we were searching for him in the first place."
Siamus' expression turns coldly dire. "Goblins," he says in an ice-edged tone of contempt. "And what did ye tell them?"
"To clarify, the leader was a goblin," Adrin says. "He had an… assortment of other races crewing his operation. All I told them was that the Light would give us the strength to endure in the face of their threats. Reniya attempted to reason with them, explain we didn't know anything, but one of them was a bit… overzealous, and insisted he was lying. Ultimately, we gave them nothing."
Siamus nods curtly. "And they run a regular operation out of the Dalaran sewers? Would ye expect them still to be there? And tell me about the zealous one." He flicks a glance at Reniya and then looks back at Adrin.
Before anyone can answer there is the lightest sound at the door, like a scratch, and then it opens and a black-haired young woman in a maid's uniform slips in, carrying a tray. Siamus spares her a glance. "Thank ye, Moirin," he says. "Just there." He indicates with a nod the chest he'd pulled over to the wall, and Moirin dutifully turns to set the tray down there.
It contains a tea service with a pot of scalding hot black tea, a plate of sandwiches — thick-sliced rare roast beef and horseradish, or chicken salad with walnuts and grapes — and another plate of apple turnovers. There is also a bottle of whiskey.
Moirin bobs a little curtsey to the room — her bright, grey-eyed gaze takes the scene in with undisguised interest — and then slips out again.
Adrin's focus is disrupted by the arrival of food, and he eyes the tray like he hasn't eaten in days — which, coincidentally, he hasn't. But there are questions to answer, and he can't talk and eat, so he mumbles a small prayer to the Light for strength, and continues.
"They might still be there," he says. "But if they're smart, they've packed up. The zealous one — I heard one of the others refer to her as 'Rida' — is the one who found us out. We were… unprepared for a worgen. She was maybe… early twenties, looked like she had been through some things, perhaps even before the curse hit Gilneas. The streetly sort."
Reniya, at this point, has started to doze, rocking perilously back and forth as he drifts in and out of wakefulness. Samiella looks ready to step forward in case he falls.
"A worgen?" Siamus's interest sharpens. "And she's the one who… injured Hartrim? How did it happen?" He throws a glance at Ren and some of the ice in his manner thaws. "Hartrim. Lie down if ye need it. I'll get enough of it out of your friends here, aye? And ye can fill in anything more later." To the other two he says, "I'd take ye elsewhere to speak so as not to disturb him, but I think he ought to have company for a time, and anywhere else in the house we're more likely to be… interrupted." (By hysterical ladyfolk who know where the Vice Admiral habitually hangs out, he means. Although it seems likely the Duchess has that well in hand by now.)
"Aye, sorry mate," Reniya mumbles, letting himself fall back onto the bed. A small amount of panic flashes over Samiella's expression and she moves a bit closer to, if not completely behind, Adrin.
Adrin adjusts his glasses again. Bent glasses, it turns out, have an even harder time staying in place. "They found our room in Dalaran moments before we attempted to escape. Managed to arrive there in force without drawing the notice of the staff. Invisibility potions or perhaps even skill could account for that. They ambushed us as we tried to leave, and held us captive within. For two… possibly three days they had us, trying to get information, and then Sami here" — he gestures to the very pinkly dressed woman — "got worried and came looking for us. She drove them off with her magic and the threat of discovery, but perhaps out of spite, Rida stuck a dagger into Reniya before she left."
Siamus's gaze follows Samiella as she moves, but his attention is still on Adrin's words. "Rida," he repeats. "I'll have the pair of ye — that's you and Hartrim — speak to one of my employees later when ye've had some time to rest. I'll want ye to describe as much as ye recall about this… Rida and the others."
"Of course," Adrin acknowledges.
To the woman attempting to stand in Adrin's shadow, Siamus says, "We owe ye some thanks, it seems, Miss Verglas. Are ye the one who got them to the mage tower?"
Samiella nods, attempting to display confidence. Instead, guilt clouds her face. "I am," she says. "Adrin said he needed to reach a paladin, and the infirmary was just so far away that someone traveling there and back would never make it, and Ren himself wouldn't have survived the trip. Or… I guess he didn't anyway, but…" She peers at Reniya, but he has already fallen asleep.
Siamus contemplates the guilt in Samiella's expression for a moment, and then he waits. He waits with the sort of impassive, unbending patience of a man who knows that sometimes when you just wait intensely at a person who clearly has something else they might say, the silent pressure of that waiting will get them to say it.
Samiella waits too, the staff slowly tapping against the floor behind her, counting off the seconds. It takes a while. Maybe she's used to lying, or living with guilt. But eventually, she does break.
"You shouldn't thank me," she blurts. "If… if I'd only told them what I knew right away, they never would've gotten tangled up in this."
Siamus nods mildly. "Will ye sit, Miss Verglas? And would ye care for some tea? What was it ye should have told right away?" All three questions are delivered in the same tone of courteous invitation.
"Malus Everdell," Samiella says, resigning herself to a seat. "I… know how to find him." She looks like she might be a bit too nervous for tea. The staff, now that she has sat down, is in even plainer view in front of her.
Siamus's gaze strays from her to the staff for a moment and rests there. His brows draw together as he considers it. "I see," he says at last. He appears to be addressing the staff. He straightens away from the wardrobe and moves toward the tray of food and drink on the chest by the wall. "Well, I won't rescind my thanks, as ye did get these two safely to home and help. I believe there are some fair serious apologies and explanations owed as well, however."
He bends to pour black tea into two cups. After a moment's thought, he adds one (1) sugar cube to each, and then picks the cups up and turns to bring them to Adrin and to Samiella. As he offers Samiella hers, he asks, "Is that your staff, Miss Verglas?"
There is the slightest emphasis on that your: Is that your staff, or someone else's?
Samiella swallows hard, balancing the staff with her sandalled feet as she accepts the tea. "I'm a mage, but it's as you suspect. There's no way I could use something this powerful. It's… his. Malus's."
Adrin's brows draw together. Apparently this is news to him. He, too, accepts the tea however, and after a few seconds spared blowing on it to cool it, starts sipping at it. It's not food, but it will do.
Siamus nods and returns to leaning against the wardrobe, arms folded. "I believe — from his reports — that Hartrim met ye early in his stay in Dalaran. Was that by chance or by design on your part?"
"Chance," Samiella says. "The inn they booked at — the Legerdemain — I work there, and have for a while. I didn't expect… I thought everything was over."
"Define 'everything.'" Siamus's tone is still bland, his expression still impassive, but he's watching her like he suspects that if he glances away she's going to try to vanish.
"Mistress Mondragon is dead, I heard, and the Scourge…" Samiella's hand trembles on the teacup.
"Mistress Mondragon," Siamus repeats thoughtfully. "Would ye be acquainted with our Ralaea Westwind, then?" He doesn't shift, only watches and exudes that steady, intent patience. Adrin, you might wanna go ahead and grab yourself a sandwich.
Adrin is seriously considering it.
"I've… seen her," Samiella says, then frowns. "Wait, your?"
Siamus smiles very faintly at her. "My ward," he says. "She helped to summon Hartrim and Dinnsfield here tonight, in fact. What was the nature of your relationship with Everdell?"
Samiella's trembling only increases, and she glances at Reniya's sleeping form. "I didn't know him," she admits. "I knew of him, but we never met personally."
Siamus's tone grows gentler as Sami becomes more agitated. "How did ye know of him, then? Ye were near enough to be in possession of his staff." He pauses. "Miss Verglas, in case there's a misapprehension, I want to be plain that you're not in any danger here. Not from me or mine, at least, and not so long as ye mean no harm to anyone under my roof. I do believe we're owed some answers, though, as it seems ye could have saved Hartrim and Moores a considerable amount of" — he glances toward Reniya on the bed — "trouble, had ye been forthcoming. Are ye in danger from another quarter, and that's what kept ye quiet?"
"I'm under no illusions, milord, that if knowledge arose of a person working with the Scourge, that person would be spared their life," Samiella says. "Ren… he's a good person, but you never know at first, right? By the time I resolved to tell him… well. I was too late. The staff came to me via courier. Another of Mistress Mondragon's connections, probably, though they hid their appearance so I couldn't get a look. Malus Everdell had already disappeared, which is why they came to me."
"What was Everdell's connection to Mondragon?" Siamus raises his eyebrows.
"From my understanding — people do gossip, even in cults — she asked for a very specific cannon to be sent to Voldrune, a vrykul village," Samiella says. "And Malus was responsible for that. That's why his staff came to me. He sent it along to Voldrune as sort of a beacon, or focusing device to allow him to pinpoint where the cannon would end up long-distance. It's very advanced magic, quite impressive. But it's a little unfortunate. Mistress Mondragon also sent money along with the staff, maybe in the hopes he could use it to lie low somewhere. Only, he took matters into his own hands and tangled with that shady group in the sewers."
"To be clear," says Siamus, "was it Mondragon who engaged Everdell's services in transporting the cannon?"
"You mean did she ask him directly?" Samiella asks. "Sorry, I don't know for certain. I just know that she was aware it was him working with her. She did act by proxy when she could, so we rarely ever saw her in person."
Siamus nods slowly, his gaze going briefly distant. "And ye know how to find Everdell, ye said."
"The staff can be used to trace him, although I'm sure he's aware of that and has set traps," Samiella says. "I haven't done it because I was afraid to. He really is a powerful mage."
Siamus nods thoughtfully. He looks at Adrin. "How did Miss Ravendusk come into the matter?" he asks.
"She…" Adrin loses a shade of color and looks at Reniya, then checks his robes, then looks helplessly at Samiella. "Blast and damnation. She has the dagger."
Samiella frowns. "Is that a problem? I saw her licking it…"
"Yes it's a — licking it?" Now Adrin frowns. "But… it was poisoned."
Siamus holds up a hand to forestall them. "She licks things. Aye. How did she come into it?"
Adrin clears his throat. "Apologies," he says. "Lathrik said she intercepted him in Old Town, not far from his house, and handed him gryphon reins, allowing him to arrive sooner. She turned up herself after that. We never got an explanation as far as how she knew."
Siamus broods on this. "And now ye say she has the murderess's dagger?"
"If you mean to apprehend Rida and her group of miscreants, you may have competition," Adrin says, bowing his head. "Apologies, again. My focus was elsewhere."
"For which ye can hardly be blamed," Siamus says, in a stern and slightly blame-y fashion. Look, he's not saying you screwed up, but if you want to apologize for it he's certainly not going to stop you.
He straightens from the wardrobe. "The pair of ye stay here wi' Hartrim for the moment. Get some food in ye, be sure he's resting easy. I'm going to go and have a word with Her Grace about accommodations, and then we'll see ye settled."
Samielle gazes at the sandwiches as though she is looking upon her last meal, but nods silently. Adrin needs no second urging to start moving in on the food, though he does spare a considering glance at Reniya, determining whether or not he should wake him for sustenance.
"Thank you, Lord Fallon," he remembers to say.
Siamus nods curtly. He moves away from the wardrobe to pause by the bedside and gaze down at Reniya, looking troubled. Then he straightens and turns away to go decisively from the room.
TIME HAS PASSED UPSTAIRS
Back in the downstairs hallway, Siamus halts again. As if by magical summons (but not warlock summons, because Lena is still upstairs), Moirin appears. Siamus nods to her. "Bird Room and the B– the other one with a B. Near my office."
"I'll have Bird and Botany freshened straightaway, Vice Admiral." Moirin curtsies and hurries off.
Siamus turns back to Joelle. "Botany," he says. "That was it." Then he blinks at Joelle as he shifts mental gears (the clutch is a little tricky sometimes). He looks down at Joelle's outfit. Ah, yes, there we were. "You're not in uniform," he observes. "Ye weren’t on duty yourself?"
"I was not scheduled for night shift," Joelle dutifully reports.
"Ah," says Siamus. "Naturally." He is silent a moment, brows drawn down. "Elle. Joelle — sorry, d'ye have a surname?"
"Ebek," Elle replies, though his gaze lowers to the floor upon speaking it.
"Ebek," Siamus repeats, and nods. "Right. So, Eb– hang on, I know an Ebek, don't I?"
"My father serves in the Royal Guard," Joelle says softly, and his hunch of shame worsens.
"Oh, aye," says Siamus, brightening briefly. "Ebek. I’ve met the man." He nods firm approval.
Brightness and approval both fade behind severity again, though, as he considers Joelle. "Right, Ebek. Ye were at Dinnsfield's house the night we discussed some of the Amerith business, if I recall." (Which he does, because he got his hair petted by Elle, and a man does not forget that kind of thing easily.) "Would you happen to know how Miss Ravendusk came to be at the scene in the Mage Tower with Hartrim and Dinnsfield and the others?"
"Oh." Joelle ducks his head a little. "She was with me."
"Ahhh," says Siamus softly, and raises his eyebrows. There is another silence. "Did ye send her to the scene, or did she take it on herself?"
"She got us gryphons," Joelle says. Oh yeah. The gryphon. He glances up in the direction he left it. "Lathrik ordered me here, but she went to see Ren."
Siamus nods again thoughtfully. "I'm afraid she's given us a bit of a difficulty," he says; his tone is the particular flavor of gentle that a headmaster might use to tell you to go and pack up your things, he's afraid they have no choice but to expel you. "She seems to have taken the murder weapon from the scene. I'm sure that you, as a guardsman, can particularly appreciate the need for a swift, thorough, and lawful investigation into Hartrim's assailants. Whatever Miss Ravendusk's intentions may have been, whether for good or ill, she has now impeded that lawful investigation and our ability to bring these people to justice. That's an unpleasant situation she's put us in."
He pauses. "Again, whatever her intentions might be, there are lawful channels here, and I would like to see them employed to the fullest and fastest extent on Hartrim's behalf. We can't have evidence wandering away."
Joelle visibly flinches, his eyes filling with emotion at the use of the term 'murder weapon.' His expression doesn't otherwise change, and none of it reaches his voice. "I could ask her for it," he says.
"I would be," says Siamus, "deeply obliged if ye would. And we must hope she hasn't tampered with it in any way meanwhile."
He is silent again for a moment, and then reaches out to set a hand on Elle's shoulder briefly. "Come on, then," he says, and turns away to continue leading the other man down the hall.
Joelle starts to ask a question, then decides it's not his place, and continues to follow in silence.
"Are ye rested?" Siamus asks over his shoulder as they walk.
"No," Joelle says. "It's late."
"I'm afraid you're going to have a long night, then," Siamus tells him. "I'll have them bring up tea or coffee if ye need it." He stops at the door to the Compass Room, opens it, and steps in.
Samiella, who has been behaving herself, jolts from her chair at his arrival. "Should I undress? This is an expensive outfit, and if I must die, I would rather not damage it," she informs him. "Someone else could get some use out of it still."
Adrin, meanwhile, cannot readily respond, as his cheeks are still stuffed with sandwich. He does nod and rise in acknowledgment of the Vice Admiral's arrival though.
Joelle's eyes fixate on Reniya, and it takes every ounce of willpower for him to not rush the bed.
Siamus stops mid-stride to regard Samiella. After a slightly awkward silence, he says, "I congratulate ye on originality, Miss Verglas. I've never before had a lady offer that particular motive for removing her clothing for me. While I'm sure the gown would serve admirably off ye, I think for the moment it does just as well on ye, aye?" He looks from her to Adrin. "There's a pair of guest rooms ready for the two of ye, down the hall. I'll show ye where in a moment."
He steps further into the room and gestures at the chair just vacated by Samiella. "May I?"
Samiella moves closer to Adrin with a nod.
Joelle's gaze never leaves Reniya, but he does not step in front of Siamus at any point.
Siamus goes past Samiella and Adrin to swing the chair up one-handed and carry it back out the door of the room. He sets it in the hall next to the door with a thump, and then reenters the room. "Guardsman Ebek," he says.
Joelle straightens and finally tears his gaze from his friend to regard Siamus. "Sir."
Siamus points out the door to the chair in the hall. "That is your post. I'm going to show Mr. Moores and Miss Verglas to their rooms. When I return, ye will take that post, and ye will see — on pain of my even greater annoyance, which nobody wants, I assure ye — that Hartrim is not disturbed by anyone. Not until the man himself is awake and on his feet to open that door. Not even his mother." He pauses. "Perhaps especially not his mother."
Joelle is silent for a moment, then he reaches out and gently pats Siamus on the head. "Okay."
Siamus sets his jaw, closes his eyes, and endures this. It is not the worst of Joelle's crimes tonight. Then he steps away and inclines his head courteously to the other two. "This way, if ye please."
Adrin, having finally swallowed his sandwich, fixes his glasses again. "Lord Fallon, he will be hungry when he wakes. Our captors did not see fit to give us more than minimal water. In the interest of helping him regain his strength, it may be wise to wake him for food tomorrow regardless."
Samiella, a bit baffled that she's being given her own room, and the guard is not for her, silently follows Adrin.
Siamus surveys the tray as they leave the room. "Aye, he ought to have fresh when he wakes up, then." He nods at Adrin and, without further comment, leads them down the hall in the general direction of the Bird and B-something rooms.
(Moirin is helpfully waiting in the hall to welcome the guests to those precise rooms, in case the Vice Admiral has lost track of them.)
Joelle exits with them and closes the door behind him, then sets up the chair directly in front of it, and takes up a stance to one side. He is now On Duty.
When Siamus returns a few minutes later, he is accompanied by the same grey-eyed maid who brought the tray up to Ren's room earlier. "Guardsman Ebek," he says. "This is Moirin."
Moirin bobs a little curtsey and makes a not-terribly-covert survey of Joelle. She looks very pleased to meet him.
"Moirin is the only exception to what I said earlier, aye?" says Siamus. "She's going to take the tray out of Hartrim's room now, and will bring up a new tray for him when he wakes. And if he needs anything else, she'll see to it."
"Can I get you anything, sir?" Moirin inquires helpfully of Elle.
Joelle offers her a gentle smile. "No, thank you. I'm on duty."
Moirin nods and gives him another admiring appraisal. It's a military household; she likes a man on duty. Then she steps to the door to ease it open gently, and slides within to collect the tray in silence.
"Good night, Ebek," says Siamus.
Joelle inclines his head to Siamus in response.
Siamus departs in search of his wife, who is legally authorized to pat him on the head.