Then
Everything about this is wrong.
Roen stared at the man's unconscious form lying on the basement floor. Like most Highlanders he was tall of stature, his head shaved clean, dark-skinned like his sister.
But Harvard Blackstone bore only a slight resemblance to Delial. The paladin studied his breathing; it was even and steady. Her brows creased when she spotted the growing welt on the side of his head, where Shaelen had delivered a swift but hard kick to knock him unconscious.
What was she expecting, after all, when she had suggested to the two mercenaries that tracking down Delial’s brother was their only option of negotiating with the woman? Roen herself knew quite intimately the quick and brutal violence that Shaelen was capable of. The paladin could see the anger simmering just beneath her cocky retorts--an anger all due to the the death of Aylard Greyarm, suffered at the hands of Delial Grimsong.
The second half of the mercenary pair was Qaeli Varily, the silver-haired former champion of the Blood Sands. She had been on Gharen’s list of ‘people to contact’ should there be any trouble involving her brother. Both the paladin and the former gladiator had received each other with a measure of caution, neither knew the other had existed until Roen sought her out. But at the word of Gharen’s impending fate, the heavy accented Hyur woman readily offered her help.
Much to Roen’s chagrin, she also showed a penchant for brutality, if her verbal threats were to be believed.
Roen did not want either of them anywhere near Harvard Blackstone. She glanced down to the loops of coarse rope in her hand; she had demanded to be the one to talk to him alone and to see to his bindings. The paladin frowned as she set the rope aside on the floor, coming to a kneel next to the man. When she lightly touched his bruised scalp to examine it further, the man began to stir.
“Ow…†the Highlander muttered sourly, his lashes fluttering open. It seemed to take him a moment to focus on her, but when his eyes seemed to clear, he immediately frowned. He flinched at her touch.
"Apologies... about how we got you here," Roen said quietly, lowering her head, her voice kept low. "But this matter is of great import." She continued to watch him, and although both Qaeli and Shaelen warned her of some possible attempt at an escape or violence from the man, Roen did not have such apprehensions. Resignation hung upon his slumped frame like a heavy robe, and even his attempt at sitting up straight was abandoned half way. His form was wiry, suggesting he did not do much heavy work, and he had worn no weapons on him when he was searched. The man was no fighter.
When Harvard propped himself up with one elbow and leaned his head back against the boxes behind him, Roen continued. "I would like to talk to you. One on one." She held his gaze intently. "About your sister."
"I already told you all that I don't know what she's up to,†the man muttered, lightly touching his head. “Had to go and kick my head in anyways."
Roen winced, knowing exactly what that kick felt like and the ache it left in the aftermath. She sat on the ground, leveling her gaze to his. "I believe you, that you do not know where your sister is. Or that you support her. What she does.â€
"Then why am I here?" He looked around blearily at the rest of the darkened room. It was a storage room in the basement of Qaeli’s residence. The room had no windows, only rafters, wooden columns, and crates. The small space was only dimly lit by a distant lantern. "Is this... even Ul'dah? I just wanted to do my job, that's all. I have bills to pay, same as anyone."
"Delial told me of you, that while you two do not share a family bond, she still considers you the most important person in her life." Roen looked away, guilt darkening her expression. “You are here because I was desperate."
She closed her eyes, and when Harvard only answered her with an expectant silence she swallowed. "I am desperate to save my own brother,†Roen confessed, looking back to the Highlander. "And your sister has him."
Harvard regarded Roen silently for a moment, his lips--thin already--seeming to draw tighter.
His restrained ire only brought more words to come tumbling forth. "I do not want you harmed. I only... want her to think we may consider it." She made a face, those words tasting bitter as soon as it left her tongue. She turned away from him again, instead looking behind her to the stairs leading up to the main floor. "Delial knows me well enough even to suspect my bluff... but she will not call theirs."
“Do you think she really cares?" he asked incredulously.
Roen blinked, turning back to the man. "She does. For you."
Harvard shook his head, then bumped it back against the crate behind him. A momentary wince gave way to a scowl. "I'm sorry you think so. I don't know what you expect she'll do but she's... I don't think she cares about anybody." His jaw tightened. "Not if it doesn't help her."
Roen stiffened. "She twists truths, but she claims she does not outright lie. If that is the case, you are the only thing she cares for. Perhaps the only thing in her life." She fixed her gaze on the man. "She said she would do anything for you. You are blood."
The Highlander met her gaze with his own eyes - an odd icy blue - before he looked away and settled them somewhere on the far wall. "If I'm the only thing it's cause she made it so. She didn't care for the rest of us. Westor, an' dad. They were blood, too. It's all just blood to her."
"What do you mean?"
“What do you think?†he retorted with a sharpness not unlike his sister’s. “You know what they call her back home? What her legacy is? Kinslayer.†Harvard’s stare returned to Roen for a breath but she could see the accusation and the anger kept close, kept cold and hard beneath his skin. “It don’t have anything to do with me. Not that it matters. Here we are all the same.â€
Roen froze, just staring at the man. "Kinslayer..." she echoed in a whisper. She found herself searching her memories, reevaluating all the conversations she and Delial had in the time that the two had gotten to know each other. When Delial had somehow earned her trust. Roen had been certain, at least until this very moment, that Delial’s words of her only surviving brother was genuine. That he was the only person that mattered in her life. It was an uneasy truth that Delial had shared begrudgingly, and Roen believed it to be true. Was it? "Why does she care for you so?" she asked hastily, fighting the pitting feeling in her stomach.
“I’m the last one. I don’t know why. Sold me out, too, just like with the rest.†His face fell and his fists clenched. “Said it would be safer. Ain’t so bad in the south. Better than dying a traitor. Pretty words all plenty rich comin’ from--†A bitter grin flashed across his lips and a harsh breath hissed out through his teeth. Gingerly, he tapped the side of his shorn head not too far from where his skin and darkened and swollen. “Got me right here, too, right before clappin’ on the chains.â€
Her hands closed tightly, and she pressed them upon her lap."It is my brother she holds. He is an Ala Mhigan, just like you.†Roen sighed heavily, her gaze going to the floor. Her knuckles had turned pale in their grip. “She knew of our relation from the beginning. She did not tell me this until after she had him."
“I'm sorry about that," Harvard said quietly after a long pause. Roen could hear that some of his misgivings had faded from his voice. "But... do you even think he's still alive?"
"He is. At least, she has said so. She offered me a trade. Two lives for his. Lives of two young Highlanders that belong to the Resistance." Roen swallowed. "I... cannot make that bargain."
"Still chasing the Resistance..." The Highlander shook his head slowly. "So... that's what I am, then. The card up your sleeve."
Roen sat up straight, looking to him imploringly. "I cannot harm them, nor will I allow anyone to harm you." She leaned in, shaking her head firmly. "I will not. But... if she at least is willing to bargain for you, her brother..." She felt her shame tighten its grip around her heart. "I may have a chance yet for the return of my own."
A long pause fell between them, where the paladin and the Highlander regarded each other, taking each other’s measure. “Will you at least, stay here, until I get him back?" she asked tentatively.
In that moment, Roen glimpsed an image of Delial in her brother, for there was a certain stoic quality the man shared with his sister. But that gave way to another resigned sigh as he slumped in his seat. "I don't wanna get beat up again," he mumbled. "And I don't think you're just gonna let me go even if I wanted to."
Roen bowed her head in apology. "I just need you to stay out of sight. And anywhere else, Delial will find you, I fear. Then my own hopes are lost." She frowned, her frame tense. "But I will give you my word, I will do my best to return you to your normal life. Very soon."
Harvard seemed to contemplate that, before he nodded. "She's not going to let this go, you know. Delial. She doesn't... she never liked being wrong.†He added then, his voice lowering further, “And she never liked people getting in her way."
The paladin narrowed her eyes on Harvard, her expression hardening. "She made enemies as soon as she took my brother. She of all people, should expect no less."
"I hope you stop her. Stop her taking people."
Roen blinked at that. She reached for the coil of rope and slid it across the floor toward him. "If they come to check in on you, just put your arms behind you with the rope. I will explain to them soon enough." She rose back to her feet.
"Right," Harvard grumbled, staring balefully at the rope.
"Gratitude." It was a pointless thing, but she said it anyway.
"Don’t."
It made the paladin pause, but she had nothing else to offer. She turned and left the cellars, locking the door behind her.
Everything about this is wrong.
Roen stared at the man's unconscious form lying on the basement floor. Like most Highlanders he was tall of stature, his head shaved clean, dark-skinned like his sister.
But Harvard Blackstone bore only a slight resemblance to Delial. The paladin studied his breathing; it was even and steady. Her brows creased when she spotted the growing welt on the side of his head, where Shaelen had delivered a swift but hard kick to knock him unconscious.
What was she expecting, after all, when she had suggested to the two mercenaries that tracking down Delial’s brother was their only option of negotiating with the woman? Roen herself knew quite intimately the quick and brutal violence that Shaelen was capable of. The paladin could see the anger simmering just beneath her cocky retorts--an anger all due to the the death of Aylard Greyarm, suffered at the hands of Delial Grimsong.
The second half of the mercenary pair was Qaeli Varily, the silver-haired former champion of the Blood Sands. She had been on Gharen’s list of ‘people to contact’ should there be any trouble involving her brother. Both the paladin and the former gladiator had received each other with a measure of caution, neither knew the other had existed until Roen sought her out. But at the word of Gharen’s impending fate, the heavy accented Hyur woman readily offered her help.
Much to Roen’s chagrin, she also showed a penchant for brutality, if her verbal threats were to be believed.
Roen did not want either of them anywhere near Harvard Blackstone. She glanced down to the loops of coarse rope in her hand; she had demanded to be the one to talk to him alone and to see to his bindings. The paladin frowned as she set the rope aside on the floor, coming to a kneel next to the man. When she lightly touched his bruised scalp to examine it further, the man began to stir.
“Ow…†the Highlander muttered sourly, his lashes fluttering open. It seemed to take him a moment to focus on her, but when his eyes seemed to clear, he immediately frowned. He flinched at her touch.
"Apologies... about how we got you here," Roen said quietly, lowering her head, her voice kept low. "But this matter is of great import." She continued to watch him, and although both Qaeli and Shaelen warned her of some possible attempt at an escape or violence from the man, Roen did not have such apprehensions. Resignation hung upon his slumped frame like a heavy robe, and even his attempt at sitting up straight was abandoned half way. His form was wiry, suggesting he did not do much heavy work, and he had worn no weapons on him when he was searched. The man was no fighter.
When Harvard propped himself up with one elbow and leaned his head back against the boxes behind him, Roen continued. "I would like to talk to you. One on one." She held his gaze intently. "About your sister."
"I already told you all that I don't know what she's up to,†the man muttered, lightly touching his head. “Had to go and kick my head in anyways."
Roen winced, knowing exactly what that kick felt like and the ache it left in the aftermath. She sat on the ground, leveling her gaze to his. "I believe you, that you do not know where your sister is. Or that you support her. What she does.â€
"Then why am I here?" He looked around blearily at the rest of the darkened room. It was a storage room in the basement of Qaeli’s residence. The room had no windows, only rafters, wooden columns, and crates. The small space was only dimly lit by a distant lantern. "Is this... even Ul'dah? I just wanted to do my job, that's all. I have bills to pay, same as anyone."
"Delial told me of you, that while you two do not share a family bond, she still considers you the most important person in her life." Roen looked away, guilt darkening her expression. “You are here because I was desperate."
She closed her eyes, and when Harvard only answered her with an expectant silence she swallowed. "I am desperate to save my own brother,†Roen confessed, looking back to the Highlander. "And your sister has him."
Harvard regarded Roen silently for a moment, his lips--thin already--seeming to draw tighter.
His restrained ire only brought more words to come tumbling forth. "I do not want you harmed. I only... want her to think we may consider it." She made a face, those words tasting bitter as soon as it left her tongue. She turned away from him again, instead looking behind her to the stairs leading up to the main floor. "Delial knows me well enough even to suspect my bluff... but she will not call theirs."
“Do you think she really cares?" he asked incredulously.
Roen blinked, turning back to the man. "She does. For you."
Harvard shook his head, then bumped it back against the crate behind him. A momentary wince gave way to a scowl. "I'm sorry you think so. I don't know what you expect she'll do but she's... I don't think she cares about anybody." His jaw tightened. "Not if it doesn't help her."
Roen stiffened. "She twists truths, but she claims she does not outright lie. If that is the case, you are the only thing she cares for. Perhaps the only thing in her life." She fixed her gaze on the man. "She said she would do anything for you. You are blood."
The Highlander met her gaze with his own eyes - an odd icy blue - before he looked away and settled them somewhere on the far wall. "If I'm the only thing it's cause she made it so. She didn't care for the rest of us. Westor, an' dad. They were blood, too. It's all just blood to her."
"What do you mean?"
“What do you think?†he retorted with a sharpness not unlike his sister’s. “You know what they call her back home? What her legacy is? Kinslayer.†Harvard’s stare returned to Roen for a breath but she could see the accusation and the anger kept close, kept cold and hard beneath his skin. “It don’t have anything to do with me. Not that it matters. Here we are all the same.â€
Roen froze, just staring at the man. "Kinslayer..." she echoed in a whisper. She found herself searching her memories, reevaluating all the conversations she and Delial had in the time that the two had gotten to know each other. When Delial had somehow earned her trust. Roen had been certain, at least until this very moment, that Delial’s words of her only surviving brother was genuine. That he was the only person that mattered in her life. It was an uneasy truth that Delial had shared begrudgingly, and Roen believed it to be true. Was it? "Why does she care for you so?" she asked hastily, fighting the pitting feeling in her stomach.
“I’m the last one. I don’t know why. Sold me out, too, just like with the rest.†His face fell and his fists clenched. “Said it would be safer. Ain’t so bad in the south. Better than dying a traitor. Pretty words all plenty rich comin’ from--†A bitter grin flashed across his lips and a harsh breath hissed out through his teeth. Gingerly, he tapped the side of his shorn head not too far from where his skin and darkened and swollen. “Got me right here, too, right before clappin’ on the chains.â€
Her hands closed tightly, and she pressed them upon her lap."It is my brother she holds. He is an Ala Mhigan, just like you.†Roen sighed heavily, her gaze going to the floor. Her knuckles had turned pale in their grip. “She knew of our relation from the beginning. She did not tell me this until after she had him."
“I'm sorry about that," Harvard said quietly after a long pause. Roen could hear that some of his misgivings had faded from his voice. "But... do you even think he's still alive?"
"He is. At least, she has said so. She offered me a trade. Two lives for his. Lives of two young Highlanders that belong to the Resistance." Roen swallowed. "I... cannot make that bargain."
"Still chasing the Resistance..." The Highlander shook his head slowly. "So... that's what I am, then. The card up your sleeve."
Roen sat up straight, looking to him imploringly. "I cannot harm them, nor will I allow anyone to harm you." She leaned in, shaking her head firmly. "I will not. But... if she at least is willing to bargain for you, her brother..." She felt her shame tighten its grip around her heart. "I may have a chance yet for the return of my own."
A long pause fell between them, where the paladin and the Highlander regarded each other, taking each other’s measure. “Will you at least, stay here, until I get him back?" she asked tentatively.
In that moment, Roen glimpsed an image of Delial in her brother, for there was a certain stoic quality the man shared with his sister. But that gave way to another resigned sigh as he slumped in his seat. "I don't wanna get beat up again," he mumbled. "And I don't think you're just gonna let me go even if I wanted to."
Roen bowed her head in apology. "I just need you to stay out of sight. And anywhere else, Delial will find you, I fear. Then my own hopes are lost." She frowned, her frame tense. "But I will give you my word, I will do my best to return you to your normal life. Very soon."
Harvard seemed to contemplate that, before he nodded. "She's not going to let this go, you know. Delial. She doesn't... she never liked being wrong.†He added then, his voice lowering further, “And she never liked people getting in her way."
The paladin narrowed her eyes on Harvard, her expression hardening. "She made enemies as soon as she took my brother. She of all people, should expect no less."
"I hope you stop her. Stop her taking people."
Roen blinked at that. She reached for the coil of rope and slid it across the floor toward him. "If they come to check in on you, just put your arms behind you with the rope. I will explain to them soon enough." She rose back to her feet.
"Right," Harvard grumbled, staring balefully at the rope.
"Gratitude." It was a pointless thing, but she said it anyway.
"Don’t."
It made the paladin pause, but she had nothing else to offer. She turned and left the cellars, locking the door behind her.
