“Where is he,†Roen nearly growled.
The Highlander crossed her arms, her drink set aside. She eyed the Sultansworn up and down, an iciness to her gaze. The smile that touched her lips was not a pleasant one. "Silly girl. Even if I told you... well. What could you do? Pull together that little band of yours, march in? You caused quite a ruckus, my dear. People are angry." She added after pause with a cant of her head, “And angry people do not forget."
Roen swallowed, trying not to react to Delial’s change in demeanor since they had spoken last. She felt herself grow cold. "Then why do you taunt me with his fate? What do you want?"
Delial’s smile hooked wickedly as she flashed her fangs. "I'm not doing this for me. Gharen... well. Gharen made a mistake."
"What is it you want? Need I return? I will. You must want something!"
"You will return, my dear, regardless of my wishes. I do not care. Your father does, however, and... as I said. Angry people do not forget. It was sheer coincidence that your fate would intertwine with mine. With Gharen's. Such an interesting predicament."
Roen paused, her eyes narrowing. "What do you speak of?"
Delial tilted her head and raised her brow in mock surprise. "Poor, poor child. You don't even know what you are, do you? Roen Deneith, Sultansworn, prodigal daughter. It is much more fitting than you think."
The Sultansworn shook her head. "I do not understand. What does this have anything to do with... with his fate?â€
The Highlander canted her head, then fished about somewhere beneath her robes. "He didn't believe me," she said idly, "When I told him. Perhaps it was the drug. Or the rage. I cannot tell - that man has a great capacity for rage. Did you know?" Her smile brightened some as she apparently touched upon whatever it was she sought and she withdrew a picture. She extended it to Roen. "I don't need this anymore. You know what happened to Greyarm."
Roen opened the picture in her hand, her eyes blinking rapidly. "What is this...?" She saw her resemblance to the older woman in the portrait. “Who is this?!â€
"It is a dreadful thing to be so... oblivious to your ancestry. Perhaps it was better that you were taken,†Delial said nonchalantly.
“Taken... what?"
The Highlander sighed patiently. "I promised you I would lead you to your ancestry. So... here. I am an honest liar, duckling. Do not mistake me for anything less."
"Who is this other woman?" Roen’s eyes darted between the portrait and Delial. She pointed to the younger woman in the picture, one that bore Gharen’s eyes. "Who are they?"
"That, my dear, is your mother." Delial clucked her tongue. "No imagination in that pretty little head of yours. Honestly."
Roen staggered. "No. This is not. I know my mother. She... she died when I was young. I-I knew her face."
The Highlander rolled her eyes."Had I kept you to myself that night," she sighed, "You may very well have known me as your mother. Thank the Gods for small favors. Truly, a lost child."
Roen stiffened. "You are lying."
"The only lie I've told you, my sweet, is that I am on your side." Delial cracked that wicked smile again.
"I do not know what you have to gain, but you are lying about my mother. And this has nothing to do with--" Roen did not want to believe. "What does this have to do with Master Gharen?!" Her hand lowered to her side with the portrait, as if to dismiss it for now. "I do not wish for your games! I only wish to insure his return!"
Delial slowly tilted her head. "It almost breaks my heart, this. How long have you longed for that boy? I wonder what sort of dreams you've dreamt of that man? It is... well. Tragic, perhaps. Tragic." She tsked slowly. "I do not know how well you think you know him. But... honestly. Did he never tell you of his sister?"
Roen swallowed. "She... died." Her voice shook, her words were slower to come. "When she was a baby..."
"That's odd."
"When the Garleans..." Roen stopped. She felt herself sway, one step taken backwards as if she was struck. All breaths left her for an instant. She shook her head. “No.â€
“I should have killed you. Killed him. Ended the line there. It would have been a mercy." The Highlander shook her head. "Your... 'father' was quite insistent. And I was young, and idealistic. We all make mistakes."
"No,†Roen said again, just shaking her head. "You are lying."
"Do you believe that?"
Roen stared at the portrait in her hand again, and what it showed plainly was difficult to deny. The older woman had her face, her eyes. And she also bore some resemblance to the younger woman in the picture, one that had Master Gharen’s eyes. Had she been so blind until now?
"You will behave yourself, Roen Deneith. For as much as you have that traitor's blood in you, you are valuable. And so is he." The Highlander crossed her arms, smug confidence exuding from every pore.
Roen curled one hand into a fist by her side. "I want him back."
"Of course you do.†Delial smirked. “And it would please me to have him dead. But it is not up to me."
“What do you want,†Roen growled.
"Such a dangerous question.†The Highlander’s dark complexion split again with a broad white grin.“What would you do for him, hmm?"
"Anything,†she rasped.
Delial’s single amber eye seemed to shine with delight, she too sensing the Sworn’s desperation. "My employer wants you. But I want your peers. The boy or his wench. Have you killed anyone before, sweet Roen?"
Roen blinked, blood draining from her face. "You cannot be asking me to..." She shook her head immediately. “Nay. I cannot.â€
"This... lack of resolve. It is disappointing to say the least." The Highlander tilted her head, still staring at her. "Why the loyalty? You understand what they are, do you not?" She sighed heavily, heaving her shoulders and shaking her head. "Tsk. I knew you were innocent, my sweet, but this... Ah, very well. They sought a bomb. What, pray, do bombs do?" When she was met with cold silence from Roen, Delial continued. “I wonder. How many lives have been saved because these... these rebels. Were they not given the chance to have their toy? Do you honestly think Ala Mhigans look any different from Garleans? Do you wonder if they bleed the same?"
"I care not about--†Roen began, her jaw set. “I just want him returned."
“You care about the lives of two worthless Ala Mhigans. Surely you care about the lives of thousands." Delial’s words were sharp and unrelenting. "You want your brother back. Then give me the Resistance.â€
“Do not give me such a choice,†Roen shook her head. “It is an impossible choice. You want me to kill for you.â€
"You are much too soft, my dear.†The Highlander tsked. “It is no small wonder how we've carried on so long, you and I."
Roen’s mind raced. To refuse the woman outright, she may be damning Master Gharen--no, he was her brother now--to his death. She swallowed hard. "Give... give me some time. Please. I need to think on this.â€
Delial cocked her head to a side, seeming to eye her with a slice of skepticism. But eventually she nodded. "... Soon. Pray it is soon. I will remain in the area for a time. But when I am gone..." She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.
"Very well." The words sounded dead in her mouth.
"I'll be awaiting your word.†Delial’s face split with another wide grin again. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, my dear. And know that the choice is far, far easier than you think." The woman bowed with a flourish before turning away. "Do not make me your enemy, Roen Deneith. Things will be easier for you."
The Highlander crossed her arms, her drink set aside. She eyed the Sultansworn up and down, an iciness to her gaze. The smile that touched her lips was not a pleasant one. "Silly girl. Even if I told you... well. What could you do? Pull together that little band of yours, march in? You caused quite a ruckus, my dear. People are angry." She added after pause with a cant of her head, “And angry people do not forget."
Roen swallowed, trying not to react to Delial’s change in demeanor since they had spoken last. She felt herself grow cold. "Then why do you taunt me with his fate? What do you want?"
Delial’s smile hooked wickedly as she flashed her fangs. "I'm not doing this for me. Gharen... well. Gharen made a mistake."
"What is it you want? Need I return? I will. You must want something!"
"You will return, my dear, regardless of my wishes. I do not care. Your father does, however, and... as I said. Angry people do not forget. It was sheer coincidence that your fate would intertwine with mine. With Gharen's. Such an interesting predicament."
Roen paused, her eyes narrowing. "What do you speak of?"
Delial tilted her head and raised her brow in mock surprise. "Poor, poor child. You don't even know what you are, do you? Roen Deneith, Sultansworn, prodigal daughter. It is much more fitting than you think."
The Sultansworn shook her head. "I do not understand. What does this have anything to do with... with his fate?â€
The Highlander canted her head, then fished about somewhere beneath her robes. "He didn't believe me," she said idly, "When I told him. Perhaps it was the drug. Or the rage. I cannot tell - that man has a great capacity for rage. Did you know?" Her smile brightened some as she apparently touched upon whatever it was she sought and she withdrew a picture. She extended it to Roen. "I don't need this anymore. You know what happened to Greyarm."
Roen opened the picture in her hand, her eyes blinking rapidly. "What is this...?" She saw her resemblance to the older woman in the portrait. “Who is this?!â€
"It is a dreadful thing to be so... oblivious to your ancestry. Perhaps it was better that you were taken,†Delial said nonchalantly.
“Taken... what?"
The Highlander sighed patiently. "I promised you I would lead you to your ancestry. So... here. I am an honest liar, duckling. Do not mistake me for anything less."
"Who is this other woman?" Roen’s eyes darted between the portrait and Delial. She pointed to the younger woman in the picture, one that bore Gharen’s eyes. "Who are they?"
"That, my dear, is your mother." Delial clucked her tongue. "No imagination in that pretty little head of yours. Honestly."
Roen staggered. "No. This is not. I know my mother. She... she died when I was young. I-I knew her face."
The Highlander rolled her eyes."Had I kept you to myself that night," she sighed, "You may very well have known me as your mother. Thank the Gods for small favors. Truly, a lost child."
Roen stiffened. "You are lying."
"The only lie I've told you, my sweet, is that I am on your side." Delial cracked that wicked smile again.
"I do not know what you have to gain, but you are lying about my mother. And this has nothing to do with--" Roen did not want to believe. "What does this have to do with Master Gharen?!" Her hand lowered to her side with the portrait, as if to dismiss it for now. "I do not wish for your games! I only wish to insure his return!"
Delial slowly tilted her head. "It almost breaks my heart, this. How long have you longed for that boy? I wonder what sort of dreams you've dreamt of that man? It is... well. Tragic, perhaps. Tragic." She tsked slowly. "I do not know how well you think you know him. But... honestly. Did he never tell you of his sister?"
Roen swallowed. "She... died." Her voice shook, her words were slower to come. "When she was a baby..."
"That's odd."
"When the Garleans..." Roen stopped. She felt herself sway, one step taken backwards as if she was struck. All breaths left her for an instant. She shook her head. “No.â€
“I should have killed you. Killed him. Ended the line there. It would have been a mercy." The Highlander shook her head. "Your... 'father' was quite insistent. And I was young, and idealistic. We all make mistakes."
"No,†Roen said again, just shaking her head. "You are lying."
"Do you believe that?"
Roen stared at the portrait in her hand again, and what it showed plainly was difficult to deny. The older woman had her face, her eyes. And she also bore some resemblance to the younger woman in the picture, one that had Master Gharen’s eyes. Had she been so blind until now?
"You will behave yourself, Roen Deneith. For as much as you have that traitor's blood in you, you are valuable. And so is he." The Highlander crossed her arms, smug confidence exuding from every pore.
Roen curled one hand into a fist by her side. "I want him back."
"Of course you do.†Delial smirked. “And it would please me to have him dead. But it is not up to me."
“What do you want,†Roen growled.
"Such a dangerous question.†The Highlander’s dark complexion split again with a broad white grin.“What would you do for him, hmm?"
"Anything,†she rasped.
Delial’s single amber eye seemed to shine with delight, she too sensing the Sworn’s desperation. "My employer wants you. But I want your peers. The boy or his wench. Have you killed anyone before, sweet Roen?"
Roen blinked, blood draining from her face. "You cannot be asking me to..." She shook her head immediately. “Nay. I cannot.â€
"This... lack of resolve. It is disappointing to say the least." The Highlander tilted her head, still staring at her. "Why the loyalty? You understand what they are, do you not?" She sighed heavily, heaving her shoulders and shaking her head. "Tsk. I knew you were innocent, my sweet, but this... Ah, very well. They sought a bomb. What, pray, do bombs do?" When she was met with cold silence from Roen, Delial continued. “I wonder. How many lives have been saved because these... these rebels. Were they not given the chance to have their toy? Do you honestly think Ala Mhigans look any different from Garleans? Do you wonder if they bleed the same?"
"I care not about--†Roen began, her jaw set. “I just want him returned."
“You care about the lives of two worthless Ala Mhigans. Surely you care about the lives of thousands." Delial’s words were sharp and unrelenting. "You want your brother back. Then give me the Resistance.â€
“Do not give me such a choice,†Roen shook her head. “It is an impossible choice. You want me to kill for you.â€
"You are much too soft, my dear.†The Highlander tsked. “It is no small wonder how we've carried on so long, you and I."
Roen’s mind raced. To refuse the woman outright, she may be damning Master Gharen--no, he was her brother now--to his death. She swallowed hard. "Give... give me some time. Please. I need to think on this.â€
Delial cocked her head to a side, seeming to eye her with a slice of skepticism. But eventually she nodded. "... Soon. Pray it is soon. I will remain in the area for a time. But when I am gone..." She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.
"Very well." The words sounded dead in her mouth.
"I'll be awaiting your word.†Delial’s face split with another wide grin again. “Enjoy the rest of the ball, my dear. And know that the choice is far, far easier than you think." The woman bowed with a flourish before turning away. "Do not make me your enemy, Roen Deneith. Things will be easier for you."
