It was the First Annual Royal Ball held by Her Majesty, Sultana Nanamo Ul Namo.
The Hustings Strip was bustling with activity, women and men dressed in all manner of finery gathered and mingling with each other. Music drifted through the air as bards made their talents known, their dulcet melodies weaving in and out of conversations. The Gold Court's central fountain seemed just a bit quieter this evening, its thin mist lending a cool air to the central halls of Ul’dah. Noblemen swayed and twirled their ladies around the waterfall, some lost in each other’s gazes and others taking delight in showing off their style and finesse.
Roen barely noticed any of it; the grandeur of the event was lost on her, as her thoughts were far away. She had reported to her duty as bid, and stood vigilant guard next to the Sultana herself as endless rows of citizens and visitors alike lined up to pay their respects. Erik, Natalie, and Kage all stood at attention alongside her, and a part of Roen knew she should have been awed to be in Nanamo’s presence. And yet her mind was elsewhere. She was merely performing her duty to make certain nothing seemed amiss.
So when they dismissed her from her duties to go ‘enjoy the festivities', Roen found herself at a loss. She had donned an elegant white dress gilded in gold--one that was sent to her by a mysterious benefactor--and walked about the crowded halls aimlessly. Even her Oath-sister Siha’s warm greeting did not break Roen from her trance. She distantly murmured her polite responses to anyone who greeted her, silently thankful that those who knew her well enough seemed pleasantly distracted with the Ball to notice her dour mood.
It was not until she spotted Delial Grimsong, her dark complexion split with a wide smile, that the Sultansworn snapped to attention. The woman looked like a cat that had just swallowed a baby dove. She gave Roen a pointed look before sauntering away--one that indicated that there was more to be exchanged.
What is she doing here?!
Roen’s panicked thoughts raced through her mind as she tried not to think of the worst possible scenarios that would explain her presence at this ball, especially wearing that ominous smile. This was not the same woman who spoke of debts owed and made her promises at Drybone.
The Sultansworn made a motion to follow the Highlander, when she spotted yet another familiar face in the periphery of her vision. It was a face she had not seen in sometime.
Kiht Jakkya beamed at her, her dark Miqo'te eyes fond with recognition. It had been moons since they had spoken last, and when they had, it was about Roen’s undecided feelings regarding her mentor at the time. The Sultansworn could not deny the irony that the one person that Roen had confessed her feelings to would find her now, when his life was in danger.
“Kiht,†Roen said, her eyes wide. “I am surprised to see you here. But glad none the less.†She exhaled in immediate relief as she stepped closer to the Miqo’te.
"Kage told me you have recently become a full Sultansworn,†Kiht said with a bright smile. “Congratulations. I came hoping to see you." Roen and Kiht had come to know each other over many moons. They were both similar in their reserved demeanor, but in appreciating each other’s unobtrusive company had kindled a friendship of unspoken trust. It was this trust that drew Roen to the Miqo’te now as she glanced again across the hall to where Delial had gone.
Kiht was quick to notice her somber expression and distracted gaze. "Is something amiss?â€
Roen gave her a quick shake of her head, though she knew it was not at all convincing, and the Miqo’te stepped up closer. Her dark eyes were trained on Roen’s. "If there is something you need help with, all you must do is ask," Kiht said softly.
They were watching Natalie. And Kage. And all the Sworns. But they could not know about Kiht. How would they?
Roen swallowed, her eyes locking onto the hunter before her. "Kiht, how skilled are you? As a tracker." Her voice had suddenly dipped to a whisper."...I cannot lose her this time.â€
Kiht narrowed her eyes, wary. "That is something I have done all my life. It is how I found C'kayah, and how I united a group of… Exiles."
There was a twinge of guilt that made Roen pause, but only for a moment. "I am sorry, I know you must have come to the festivities to enjoy yourself... I do not want to ask this of you. But I cannot lose her again. If she disappears again..." She curled her hands into tight fists by her side.
The hunter shook her head calmly. "Worry not, I came here to see you. What is it you need? Ask anything."
"I will be approaching a woman, dark skinned Highlander. Remember her face. I need to know where she goes after she leaves this ball." She bowed her head slightly, as if to level her gaze with that of the shorter female in front of her. "She has someone I hold very dear."
Kiht’s eyes widened in understanding. "Very well. You go. I will follow.â€
Roen just gave her a firm nod. Kiht asked for no other explanation. It was always how it had been between them. Unspoken trust. Silent understanding.
Steeling herself, the Sultansworn turned and made her way through the crowd, weaving between dancers and singers, to find the Highlander. Kiht fell behind her and was soon lost to her sight, but Roen had expected as much. She had always suspected that the Miqo’te was a skilled hunter who often traveled about unseen.
When Roen spotted Delial, the woman was standing by the railing with a drink in hand, watching the dancers below. The Sultansworn placed one hand over her stomach to quell the shaking there before approaching her.
“You are not supposed to be here,†Roen said quietly.
"Dearest Roen," the Highlander murmured, her lip coiling into a smile.
"You made me a promise.†Roen did not bother to hold back her tone of accusation.
Delial did not seem to care for her ire. "I was rather enjoying myself. A lovely boy on my arm, though there is not nearly enough wine. A shame. But it is said that even the Sultana's pockets are not infinite." She gave Roen a lazy sidelong glance. “I have made you a promise. And I've kept it."
"You are not supposed to be here. You said…â€
“I said he would be safe. And he is. At least... in the sense that he won't be dying any time soon." She rolled her shoulders in a casual shrug. “In this I have not lied. Dear Roen, I have... no. I've not lied much at all to you. Though even if I did... well. You were very easy to nudge."
Roen’s knuckles were white as she clenched her fists. "We need to talk."
The Highlander’s lips broadened, it was akin to a crocodile."Yes. Yes, we do."
The Sultansworn looked around quickly and gestured to the stairs leading towards the lift. “So we can speak more freely.†She had scanned the area for anyone suspicious, but spotted none. Not even Kiht.
“As you wish, duckling.â€
The Hustings Strip was bustling with activity, women and men dressed in all manner of finery gathered and mingling with each other. Music drifted through the air as bards made their talents known, their dulcet melodies weaving in and out of conversations. The Gold Court's central fountain seemed just a bit quieter this evening, its thin mist lending a cool air to the central halls of Ul’dah. Noblemen swayed and twirled their ladies around the waterfall, some lost in each other’s gazes and others taking delight in showing off their style and finesse.
Roen barely noticed any of it; the grandeur of the event was lost on her, as her thoughts were far away. She had reported to her duty as bid, and stood vigilant guard next to the Sultana herself as endless rows of citizens and visitors alike lined up to pay their respects. Erik, Natalie, and Kage all stood at attention alongside her, and a part of Roen knew she should have been awed to be in Nanamo’s presence. And yet her mind was elsewhere. She was merely performing her duty to make certain nothing seemed amiss.
So when they dismissed her from her duties to go ‘enjoy the festivities', Roen found herself at a loss. She had donned an elegant white dress gilded in gold--one that was sent to her by a mysterious benefactor--and walked about the crowded halls aimlessly. Even her Oath-sister Siha’s warm greeting did not break Roen from her trance. She distantly murmured her polite responses to anyone who greeted her, silently thankful that those who knew her well enough seemed pleasantly distracted with the Ball to notice her dour mood.
It was not until she spotted Delial Grimsong, her dark complexion split with a wide smile, that the Sultansworn snapped to attention. The woman looked like a cat that had just swallowed a baby dove. She gave Roen a pointed look before sauntering away--one that indicated that there was more to be exchanged.
What is she doing here?!
Roen’s panicked thoughts raced through her mind as she tried not to think of the worst possible scenarios that would explain her presence at this ball, especially wearing that ominous smile. This was not the same woman who spoke of debts owed and made her promises at Drybone.
The Sultansworn made a motion to follow the Highlander, when she spotted yet another familiar face in the periphery of her vision. It was a face she had not seen in sometime.
Kiht Jakkya beamed at her, her dark Miqo'te eyes fond with recognition. It had been moons since they had spoken last, and when they had, it was about Roen’s undecided feelings regarding her mentor at the time. The Sultansworn could not deny the irony that the one person that Roen had confessed her feelings to would find her now, when his life was in danger.
“Kiht,†Roen said, her eyes wide. “I am surprised to see you here. But glad none the less.†She exhaled in immediate relief as she stepped closer to the Miqo’te.
"Kage told me you have recently become a full Sultansworn,†Kiht said with a bright smile. “Congratulations. I came hoping to see you." Roen and Kiht had come to know each other over many moons. They were both similar in their reserved demeanor, but in appreciating each other’s unobtrusive company had kindled a friendship of unspoken trust. It was this trust that drew Roen to the Miqo’te now as she glanced again across the hall to where Delial had gone.
Kiht was quick to notice her somber expression and distracted gaze. "Is something amiss?â€
Roen gave her a quick shake of her head, though she knew it was not at all convincing, and the Miqo’te stepped up closer. Her dark eyes were trained on Roen’s. "If there is something you need help with, all you must do is ask," Kiht said softly.
They were watching Natalie. And Kage. And all the Sworns. But they could not know about Kiht. How would they?
Roen swallowed, her eyes locking onto the hunter before her. "Kiht, how skilled are you? As a tracker." Her voice had suddenly dipped to a whisper."...I cannot lose her this time.â€
Kiht narrowed her eyes, wary. "That is something I have done all my life. It is how I found C'kayah, and how I united a group of… Exiles."
There was a twinge of guilt that made Roen pause, but only for a moment. "I am sorry, I know you must have come to the festivities to enjoy yourself... I do not want to ask this of you. But I cannot lose her again. If she disappears again..." She curled her hands into tight fists by her side.
The hunter shook her head calmly. "Worry not, I came here to see you. What is it you need? Ask anything."
"I will be approaching a woman, dark skinned Highlander. Remember her face. I need to know where she goes after she leaves this ball." She bowed her head slightly, as if to level her gaze with that of the shorter female in front of her. "She has someone I hold very dear."
Kiht’s eyes widened in understanding. "Very well. You go. I will follow.â€
Roen just gave her a firm nod. Kiht asked for no other explanation. It was always how it had been between them. Unspoken trust. Silent understanding.
Steeling herself, the Sultansworn turned and made her way through the crowd, weaving between dancers and singers, to find the Highlander. Kiht fell behind her and was soon lost to her sight, but Roen had expected as much. She had always suspected that the Miqo’te was a skilled hunter who often traveled about unseen.
When Roen spotted Delial, the woman was standing by the railing with a drink in hand, watching the dancers below. The Sultansworn placed one hand over her stomach to quell the shaking there before approaching her.
“You are not supposed to be here,†Roen said quietly.
"Dearest Roen," the Highlander murmured, her lip coiling into a smile.
"You made me a promise.†Roen did not bother to hold back her tone of accusation.
Delial did not seem to care for her ire. "I was rather enjoying myself. A lovely boy on my arm, though there is not nearly enough wine. A shame. But it is said that even the Sultana's pockets are not infinite." She gave Roen a lazy sidelong glance. “I have made you a promise. And I've kept it."
"You are not supposed to be here. You said…â€
“I said he would be safe. And he is. At least... in the sense that he won't be dying any time soon." She rolled her shoulders in a casual shrug. “In this I have not lied. Dear Roen, I have... no. I've not lied much at all to you. Though even if I did... well. You were very easy to nudge."
Roen’s knuckles were white as she clenched her fists. "We need to talk."
The Highlander’s lips broadened, it was akin to a crocodile."Yes. Yes, we do."
The Sultansworn looked around quickly and gestured to the stairs leading towards the lift. “So we can speak more freely.†She had scanned the area for anyone suspicious, but spotted none. Not even Kiht.
“As you wish, duckling.â€
