((The successor thread to this guy.))
Annunu straightened from the third report she was working on as the candles were burnt down nearly to the end; a gnawing headache plagued her behind her eyes, and she could barely see the chronometer across the room that indicated it was two or three bells past midnight. She needed a safehouse, she thought dimly. The Duskbreak wasn't the place for this kind of work. The air in her rooms was damp and chilled from bells of inattention to the fire.
She fanned out the three reports. Two were sourced to Agent R, a Midlander man and easily her most prolific source, an information broker in his own right, which meant he was both well-connected and infuriating to coax information from. Such people rarely wanted to divulge their own information acquisition chains, which really was more of a problem than having to pay for it, but R had eventually - begrudgingly - opened up about it, and was a mine of information as a result. Then Agent L, a Duskwight Wood Wailer, was the source of the third. L had five children by three women, and felt the Wailers didn't make nearly enough money; Khamja helped him make ends meet, though of course he didn't really know (or care) who was signing the checks.
She had enough information in for a partially-sourced report from Agent G as well, an Ul'dahn expatriot who lived in Gridania now at the surprise allowance from the elementals. G was one of An's favorites - smart enough to realize why she wanted to know the numbers and composition of Garlean supply convoys, but not bold enough to do anything more with that than passively collect and report. But then, that was all she really was doing herself with her slowly-growing network - collect, write reports, then wait. Perhaps Master Gogonji was selling it, or formulating some greater plan.
She pushed back from her desk and toddled slowly over to the armchair by her bookshelves, pouring herself a glass of wine from a dusty bottle. How long had it been since she'd had wine with Chuta? She hadn't been offered her own sake at the Starlight dinner with the Gegenjis, and so had not been able to partake, but the men had seemed to enjoy it. Her stomach twisted at the memory of that uncomfortable meal.
Much was slowly coming into focus afterwards. Zozonji Gegenji, the family patriarch, had asked her if Master Gogonji was happy. It had shaken her to say she didn't know. Who could know if such a man were happy? Dissatisfaction - ever striving forward - were his hallmarks, a restless drive to know and see and do more his ambition. She had for so long been his right hand, his knife in the dark, his eyes and ears. His happiness had been her primary mission, and yet when the question was asked, she'd had no answer.
So she had approached him with it the evening prior, and he had allowed that he was as happy as could be expected. Well, then, good. Right?
But that answer had left her feeling gnawingly dissatisfied. As had the encroaching thought: what of her own happiness?
She tilted back the wine glass. It had been coming on slowly for moons, really. When she touched his arm or his hand, or leaned closer, or shared her feelings verbally, his responses were irregular, indifferent, or nonexistant. Well, she knew he was not the demonstrative type, that he showed his regard for her in other ways. But evidence was mounting, disturbingly enough, that instead of their relationship advancing as it should given he requested they be married in truth - that things were regressing. The Starlight dinner... she had gone in with her heart steeled to present herself in the most favorable light to Master Gogonji's family.
But instead, the entire meal had been about Chachanji and his girlfriend, Zhara. Zhara had stalked out at one point and had to be chased down - An could only imagine what would've happened had she pulled a similar stunt, but surely it would've lost her respect in Master Gogonji's eyes - and Master Gogonji had argued more that Chachanji's choice of mate be respected than he had that his own was a worthy choice. An passed muster because she was a Lalafell, not for any merits of her own, and had faded into the background for most of the night. Where she'd been hoping to meet her new family, the family that would be hers someday - instead, she had been a pawn in a larger game. Of course, she had shifted her own behavior to support Master Gogonji's goals once she realized what they were - but she felt hollow inside, realizing that she had not been the priority.
That was understandable in the end - save that when she brought it up to him the night prior, specifically mentioning that it had hurt her (words hard for her to say), he'd shrugged it off.
Was she allowed to be unhappy? she wondered. Before, when she felt despair or emptiness at how things were going, she'd just plowed more efforts into the mission. Work harder for Master Gogonji - do whatever he tells you to do - and your reward will be his happiness. That had been her feelings. Now, he had happiness, as much as he could have, but... had she begun to fade into the distance? Was her own happiness a priority?
She shivered, wrapping a blanket around herself. Her bed wasn't so far, but she had no desire to cross the room to lie in a cold, rigidly-made bed. Best to lie in the armchair and sleep here, if she could quiet her mind enough to find rest.
* * *
"She's starting to become a problem," the witch observed, exhaling smoke into the air and then tracing her slim pipe through it.
Garran raised a brow. "She's one of yours, isn't she? Control her."
"I am not the girl's puppetmaster. THAT one is a far harder mark, even if he, too, owes me a debt."
"What exactly do you want me to do about it?"
"I don't particularly care what you do about it. Approach her, or him if you prefer, and remind them - what they owe. Which means they are obligated to turn a blind eye."
Garran's gaze shifted from the witch's face to the impassive, stone-like countenance of her mate. He shuddered inwardly. The Roegadyn was massive, impervious, and yet so deferential to Lt'helo as to make them both all the more intimidating. They were always a united front, which was more than Garran could ever say when he sat here with Ornh or Moro. Of course, Ornh was gone now, and Moro was in the witch's pocket, so that pretty much meant he was on his own. Not surprising.
"I'm surprised you haven't tried to recruit her. She could be useful."
"There's an issue of control, as I said. Break that control and take her if you think she'd be helpful, or threaten her away. Kill her if you absolutely must - but I hate to reave what I once saved. But however you do it, her interference needs to stop."
Garran suppressed a sigh. It was all about those damned crystals, he was willing to bet. "The Scions are going to get involved if you keep this up."
"Let me worry about that," Impact interjected curtly. "You jes' do as yer told."
If only it were that easy. But, Garran thought sourly, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He glanced up at the Duskbreak ceiling. And it wasn't as if he didn't know where she lived, either.
Annunu straightened from the third report she was working on as the candles were burnt down nearly to the end; a gnawing headache plagued her behind her eyes, and she could barely see the chronometer across the room that indicated it was two or three bells past midnight. She needed a safehouse, she thought dimly. The Duskbreak wasn't the place for this kind of work. The air in her rooms was damp and chilled from bells of inattention to the fire.
She fanned out the three reports. Two were sourced to Agent R, a Midlander man and easily her most prolific source, an information broker in his own right, which meant he was both well-connected and infuriating to coax information from. Such people rarely wanted to divulge their own information acquisition chains, which really was more of a problem than having to pay for it, but R had eventually - begrudgingly - opened up about it, and was a mine of information as a result. Then Agent L, a Duskwight Wood Wailer, was the source of the third. L had five children by three women, and felt the Wailers didn't make nearly enough money; Khamja helped him make ends meet, though of course he didn't really know (or care) who was signing the checks.
She had enough information in for a partially-sourced report from Agent G as well, an Ul'dahn expatriot who lived in Gridania now at the surprise allowance from the elementals. G was one of An's favorites - smart enough to realize why she wanted to know the numbers and composition of Garlean supply convoys, but not bold enough to do anything more with that than passively collect and report. But then, that was all she really was doing herself with her slowly-growing network - collect, write reports, then wait. Perhaps Master Gogonji was selling it, or formulating some greater plan.
She pushed back from her desk and toddled slowly over to the armchair by her bookshelves, pouring herself a glass of wine from a dusty bottle. How long had it been since she'd had wine with Chuta? She hadn't been offered her own sake at the Starlight dinner with the Gegenjis, and so had not been able to partake, but the men had seemed to enjoy it. Her stomach twisted at the memory of that uncomfortable meal.
Much was slowly coming into focus afterwards. Zozonji Gegenji, the family patriarch, had asked her if Master Gogonji was happy. It had shaken her to say she didn't know. Who could know if such a man were happy? Dissatisfaction - ever striving forward - were his hallmarks, a restless drive to know and see and do more his ambition. She had for so long been his right hand, his knife in the dark, his eyes and ears. His happiness had been her primary mission, and yet when the question was asked, she'd had no answer.
So she had approached him with it the evening prior, and he had allowed that he was as happy as could be expected. Well, then, good. Right?
But that answer had left her feeling gnawingly dissatisfied. As had the encroaching thought: what of her own happiness?
She tilted back the wine glass. It had been coming on slowly for moons, really. When she touched his arm or his hand, or leaned closer, or shared her feelings verbally, his responses were irregular, indifferent, or nonexistant. Well, she knew he was not the demonstrative type, that he showed his regard for her in other ways. But evidence was mounting, disturbingly enough, that instead of their relationship advancing as it should given he requested they be married in truth - that things were regressing. The Starlight dinner... she had gone in with her heart steeled to present herself in the most favorable light to Master Gogonji's family.
But instead, the entire meal had been about Chachanji and his girlfriend, Zhara. Zhara had stalked out at one point and had to be chased down - An could only imagine what would've happened had she pulled a similar stunt, but surely it would've lost her respect in Master Gogonji's eyes - and Master Gogonji had argued more that Chachanji's choice of mate be respected than he had that his own was a worthy choice. An passed muster because she was a Lalafell, not for any merits of her own, and had faded into the background for most of the night. Where she'd been hoping to meet her new family, the family that would be hers someday - instead, she had been a pawn in a larger game. Of course, she had shifted her own behavior to support Master Gogonji's goals once she realized what they were - but she felt hollow inside, realizing that she had not been the priority.
That was understandable in the end - save that when she brought it up to him the night prior, specifically mentioning that it had hurt her (words hard for her to say), he'd shrugged it off.
Was she allowed to be unhappy? she wondered. Before, when she felt despair or emptiness at how things were going, she'd just plowed more efforts into the mission. Work harder for Master Gogonji - do whatever he tells you to do - and your reward will be his happiness. That had been her feelings. Now, he had happiness, as much as he could have, but... had she begun to fade into the distance? Was her own happiness a priority?
She shivered, wrapping a blanket around herself. Her bed wasn't so far, but she had no desire to cross the room to lie in a cold, rigidly-made bed. Best to lie in the armchair and sleep here, if she could quiet her mind enough to find rest.
* * *
"She's starting to become a problem," the witch observed, exhaling smoke into the air and then tracing her slim pipe through it.
Garran raised a brow. "She's one of yours, isn't she? Control her."
"I am not the girl's puppetmaster. THAT one is a far harder mark, even if he, too, owes me a debt."
"What exactly do you want me to do about it?"
"I don't particularly care what you do about it. Approach her, or him if you prefer, and remind them - what they owe. Which means they are obligated to turn a blind eye."
Garran's gaze shifted from the witch's face to the impassive, stone-like countenance of her mate. He shuddered inwardly. The Roegadyn was massive, impervious, and yet so deferential to Lt'helo as to make them both all the more intimidating. They were always a united front, which was more than Garran could ever say when he sat here with Ornh or Moro. Of course, Ornh was gone now, and Moro was in the witch's pocket, so that pretty much meant he was on his own. Not surprising.
"I'm surprised you haven't tried to recruit her. She could be useful."
"There's an issue of control, as I said. Break that control and take her if you think she'd be helpful, or threaten her away. Kill her if you absolutely must - but I hate to reave what I once saved. But however you do it, her interference needs to stop."
Garran suppressed a sigh. It was all about those damned crystals, he was willing to bet. "The Scions are going to get involved if you keep this up."
"Let me worry about that," Impact interjected curtly. "You jes' do as yer told."
If only it were that easy. But, Garran thought sourly, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He glanced up at the Duskbreak ceiling. And it wasn't as if he didn't know where she lived, either.
People have forgotten this truth. But you mustn't forget it. You become responsible forever for what you have tamed.
Howl's Wiki
Howl's Wiki
