Roen crouched over the edge of the precipice overlooking the town of Drybone. She pinched up a bit of the dry dirt and rubbed it absently between the pads of her fingers as she looked down to the well that stood near the vendor stalls below. It was easily a hundred-fulm drop, if not more. A fall from this height would be a fatal one.
Gideon North would not have survived it.
She had overheard the report given by one of the Brass Blades in the area on the sand pearl, of a tall burly Hyur who had assaulted a man on the road, wrestling him from his mount and attempting to bodily throw him over the cliff down to the bottom of Drybone. When the victim was identified as the personal valet of Jameson Taeros, she knew it could be no other. Luckily he was able to fend off the assailant, and the attacker then ran off when authorities were alerted below.
The paladin had gone immediately to the infirmary at Drybone to make certain with her own eyes that Gideon was safe and alive. He had suffered a broken rib along with a few other minor wounds, and upon the healers’ insistence at the infirmary, he was made to convalesce there for a few suns. At least the rest was something that would benefit the ever diligent butler, Roen thought.
As she looked over the canvassed vendor tents below, a part of her wondered if this particular bandit attack had anything to do with what Nero and Osric had set in motion. The Flame sergeant had vaguely insinuated that he had promised to do something for the smuggler in exchange for a favor, and it likely involved violence directed at Taeros. She tried to warn Coatleque of this, but despite the fact that the Sworn herself had suffered Taeros’ wrath--as evidenced by the bruise marks upon her neck--Ser Crofte seemed determined to continue to protect the noble.
Coatleque, Gideon, and Delial…they were all people that Roen had relied on to stay near Taeros, to distract him, spy on him, and thwart him if possible. But now, as shadowed daggers seemed to turn their points towards the Monetarist noble, the paladin feared that those allies that she had placed near him might suffer collateral damage. And even Taeros himself, Roen had never sought an outright assassination of the man. She wanted to use his power and his reputation to throw the Monetarist alliances into disarray.
A long sigh escaped her lips as the desert wind sent a dried leaf tumbling past her over the bluff. Coatleque stated that she was going to stand by Taeros, and Roen had to remind herself that the woman was a trained Sultansworn. Ser Crofte was quite capable of handling herself, she would be no easy mark. Delial too was skilled at looking out for herself; on more than one occasion, the Highlander woman reminded Roen that she would do whatever it took to preserve herself first and foremost, even if it was to kill Nero if it came down to it.
But Gideon North, despite his insistence that he was capable of defending himself, and that after this incident he would no longer be caught so unawares, Roen still feared for his safety. Perhaps it was because he was one of very few confidants that she still had left; the paladin could now count on one hand the number of people she trusted and considered dear friends. Even her relationship with Mister North had seen its own share of trials. But despite one adversity after another, he had refused end their agreement. He insisted on aiding her in however way he could, as long as he was able.
The paladin recalled the first time she asked him to leave the noble’s service. It was after Mister Bellveil had been viciously attacked, for his involvement in the warehouse raids. She had confessed her guilt over the affair to to Gideon, and asked him to remove himself from Taeros’ house, for the fear that same or worse fate may fall upon him. That was one of the first lectures that Gideon had give her in response. A calm and succinct observation that this agreement between them was for his own sake as well. He needed to do this to pursue his own goals, in discovering those who had wronged his masters.
So when Roen told him the truth about Nero’s involvement in the sinking of the Aerstorn ship off the coast of Limsa, she would have expected that it would have ended their agreement. He was helping her against the Monetarists while she also worked to uncover the mystery of who had killed his previous masters. But even after discovering that the man she loved was responsible for killing the head Aerstorns, Gideon somehow…stayed. While he refused to work for Nero, he still wanted to ensure Roen's safety in these matters and help her in however way he could. The memory of that heated conversation still brought a distant pang of guilt.
Just over a fortnight past, she had informed him that Spahro had written up a slanderous article filled with half-truths about Nero, Taeros, Coatleque, and herself, but the butler seemed unfazed. What worried Roen the most about that article was that it did mention an association between herself and Gideon. This would not only jeopardize his career, but likely also endanger his life if Taeros suspected him to be a spy. But the valet calmly reminded the paladin of the obviously false articles written previously by the same reporter, especially the one that painted Ser Crofte in the most unflattering way. He then dismissed any serious consideration to her future writings and accusations.
But now this.
When Roen found him in Drybone, all she could feel was immense relief that he was safe and sound. Gideon was as composed and unflappable as ever, and from his recounting of the events, the one-man attack seemed to be a random and poorly organized one. It was a clumsy attempt at best, nothing was taken, and Gideon had only suffered minor wounds. The valet was convinced that it could not represent any real attempt against Taeros simply due to its incompetence. This assuaged her fears temporarily, but she could not dismiss the nagging fear in the back of her mind that something else could still be looming on the horizon.
But she voiced no such dark thoughts to the butler; he was recovering, after all, and there were ears within the infirmary. Instead, she gave him a warm smile, one that was easy to summon considering the comfort she took in his well-being. He even had a fledgling dodo bird waddling about, a gift given to him by a colleague. He seemed proud and happily distracted by the creature, having even given it the dignified name of “Wilhelm.†So Roen kept the news to herself, that Nero had given up in his quest to save Ul’dah, and that she was now on her own trying to salvage what she could. She was just grateful that Gideon was alright.
As the paladin looked to the distant setting sun that colored the Eastern Thanalan sky in bright gold and red hues, she drew out a note from her pocket and read the words again.
“Comfort is often hard to come by, especially in dire circumstances, but I recall one particular method you mentioned. Take such moments when available.
-G.N.â€
That note from Mister North had come with a specially packaged delivery of chanterelle saute. Roen still smiled distantly at the memory of the conversation they had shared many moons ago. It was one of many, for she had always found his placid demeanor and apathetic outlook on things objective and refreshing.
"It has troubled me that I asked this of you. Actually that I have asked others to help me in this endeavor," she had said to him as they looked over the waterfall in Eastern Thanalan. Her heart had been heavy with worry.
“Madam will remember that I, in fact, asked the opportunity of her specifically.†Gideon’s usual serene disposition did not waver.
"Aye. Others have volunteered as well. But...it does not put me at ease. This is a risk."
“Madam, I am well aware of the danger,†the valet said in his ever calm and unerringly polite tone. “It has already taken from me, and thus replaced, any purpose I had before it. If I die in pursuit of my purpose, that is a loss to nobody. It will be, as they say, a loose end tied up.â€
Roen frowned. "Surely, it is a loss. To someone."
Gideon chuckled quietly. “Madam overestimates the breadth of my social connection. I am a tool to be wielded, madam, and if a tool breaks, then another is easily acquired.â€
"You are more than that, Mister North. Everyone is."
“A severed limb, madam, cannot operate without the body's direction...nor can it develop its own impetus of being.â€
"Perhaps, if that is all it was.†The paladin shook her head. “There are plants, where you cut it off at the branch, then you give it a vase of water, and it grows its own roots. Its own branches. It just needs a bit of water to give it nurture."
The valet brightened at her response. “Ah! Madam is a student of horticulture. A breadth of education is the sign of a rounded, wholesome upbringing.â€
"You truly do remind me of those I knew in my childhood.†She responded with a growing smile. “Such words were said to me rather sternly. I had not known then, that they were so well learned as you were.â€
“Suffice it to say the training to become a valet was not altogether pleasant at times. The whimsy of the upper class was imagined to be...broad, bizarre, and requiring the most versatile of minds and skillsets. I can sew, cook, clean, read, and even perform some rudimentary chemistry…†Gideon shook his head, a brief look of exasperation on his face.
Roen could not help but be impressed. "Then you are probably one of the most educated person I know in Eorzea."
“Madam is pleased to exaggerate†Gideon nodded politely, but nevertheless flickered a tiny smile.
"And you are much too modest." Roen chuckled quietly.
“If Madam is attempting to fluster me with compliments, she may find I am quite swoon-proof.†Gideon looked away, as if to hide a brief but mischievous smile.
The paladin flicked him a sidelong glance, her own lips curling into a lopsided grin. "Hm. Swoon-proof. I have not met such before. Alas Mister North, I will confess. I am rather poor at making people swoon. So take my words as you will. I say it as I see it."
“...Madam Deneith.â€
"Mister North..?"
“If you do not find it presumptuous, or forward.†He bowed slightly. “What is madam's favorite food?â€
"Ah. Um.†Roen blinked, surprised. It was not what she had expected to be asked. “My favorite dish." Amusement lingered on her lips as she tapped a finger against them in thought. "My mother used to make a few things. She loved garlic...and there was this dish she made with mushrooms." Her expression and tone had turned dreamy. "That was a long time ago.â€
Gideon regarded her in silence for a moment longer. “Very good, madam,†he said finally.
"Why do you ask, Mister North?"
He answered with a pleasant smile. “Idle conversation, Madam. Think nothing of it.â€
The dish that was delivered moons later was carefully packaged, and when she opened it, a delectable aroma of mushrooms, butter, and garlic greeted her senses. Gideon had even added some extra spices, ones that reminded her of home.
Take such moments, when able… Roen told herself as she folded the note and tucked it back into her pocket.
The sun had completely set over the horizon, the dark velvet of night starting to blanket the sky above. Roen rose from her perch overlooking Drybone, taking one last look at the people milling about below. The guards were lighting the lamps, and warm light was starting to filter through the windows from the buildings. Two children darted across the courtyard, joining their parents who were folding up their vendor tents for the night.
She would take comfort in such sights this day. Until now, the seeming failure of Nero’s efforts--his abandonment of his cause, and the corruption and suffering that still festered in Ul’dah...they all seemed overwhelming for her to face alone. But at least today, she was heartened to know that one dear friend was spared his life, and there were plenty others who led their lives in peace far from Ul’dah.
The paladin glanced up at the stars that were slowly starting to peek through the night sky and watched them slowly glow brighter in the darkness. She stood there for a long moment as if to search them intently, before turning and making her way back to Ul’dah.
Gideon North would not have survived it.
She had overheard the report given by one of the Brass Blades in the area on the sand pearl, of a tall burly Hyur who had assaulted a man on the road, wrestling him from his mount and attempting to bodily throw him over the cliff down to the bottom of Drybone. When the victim was identified as the personal valet of Jameson Taeros, she knew it could be no other. Luckily he was able to fend off the assailant, and the attacker then ran off when authorities were alerted below.
The paladin had gone immediately to the infirmary at Drybone to make certain with her own eyes that Gideon was safe and alive. He had suffered a broken rib along with a few other minor wounds, and upon the healers’ insistence at the infirmary, he was made to convalesce there for a few suns. At least the rest was something that would benefit the ever diligent butler, Roen thought.
As she looked over the canvassed vendor tents below, a part of her wondered if this particular bandit attack had anything to do with what Nero and Osric had set in motion. The Flame sergeant had vaguely insinuated that he had promised to do something for the smuggler in exchange for a favor, and it likely involved violence directed at Taeros. She tried to warn Coatleque of this, but despite the fact that the Sworn herself had suffered Taeros’ wrath--as evidenced by the bruise marks upon her neck--Ser Crofte seemed determined to continue to protect the noble.
Coatleque, Gideon, and Delial…they were all people that Roen had relied on to stay near Taeros, to distract him, spy on him, and thwart him if possible. But now, as shadowed daggers seemed to turn their points towards the Monetarist noble, the paladin feared that those allies that she had placed near him might suffer collateral damage. And even Taeros himself, Roen had never sought an outright assassination of the man. She wanted to use his power and his reputation to throw the Monetarist alliances into disarray.
A long sigh escaped her lips as the desert wind sent a dried leaf tumbling past her over the bluff. Coatleque stated that she was going to stand by Taeros, and Roen had to remind herself that the woman was a trained Sultansworn. Ser Crofte was quite capable of handling herself, she would be no easy mark. Delial too was skilled at looking out for herself; on more than one occasion, the Highlander woman reminded Roen that she would do whatever it took to preserve herself first and foremost, even if it was to kill Nero if it came down to it.
But Gideon North, despite his insistence that he was capable of defending himself, and that after this incident he would no longer be caught so unawares, Roen still feared for his safety. Perhaps it was because he was one of very few confidants that she still had left; the paladin could now count on one hand the number of people she trusted and considered dear friends. Even her relationship with Mister North had seen its own share of trials. But despite one adversity after another, he had refused end their agreement. He insisted on aiding her in however way he could, as long as he was able.
The paladin recalled the first time she asked him to leave the noble’s service. It was after Mister Bellveil had been viciously attacked, for his involvement in the warehouse raids. She had confessed her guilt over the affair to to Gideon, and asked him to remove himself from Taeros’ house, for the fear that same or worse fate may fall upon him. That was one of the first lectures that Gideon had give her in response. A calm and succinct observation that this agreement between them was for his own sake as well. He needed to do this to pursue his own goals, in discovering those who had wronged his masters.
So when Roen told him the truth about Nero’s involvement in the sinking of the Aerstorn ship off the coast of Limsa, she would have expected that it would have ended their agreement. He was helping her against the Monetarists while she also worked to uncover the mystery of who had killed his previous masters. But even after discovering that the man she loved was responsible for killing the head Aerstorns, Gideon somehow…stayed. While he refused to work for Nero, he still wanted to ensure Roen's safety in these matters and help her in however way he could. The memory of that heated conversation still brought a distant pang of guilt.
Just over a fortnight past, she had informed him that Spahro had written up a slanderous article filled with half-truths about Nero, Taeros, Coatleque, and herself, but the butler seemed unfazed. What worried Roen the most about that article was that it did mention an association between herself and Gideon. This would not only jeopardize his career, but likely also endanger his life if Taeros suspected him to be a spy. But the valet calmly reminded the paladin of the obviously false articles written previously by the same reporter, especially the one that painted Ser Crofte in the most unflattering way. He then dismissed any serious consideration to her future writings and accusations.
But now this.
When Roen found him in Drybone, all she could feel was immense relief that he was safe and sound. Gideon was as composed and unflappable as ever, and from his recounting of the events, the one-man attack seemed to be a random and poorly organized one. It was a clumsy attempt at best, nothing was taken, and Gideon had only suffered minor wounds. The valet was convinced that it could not represent any real attempt against Taeros simply due to its incompetence. This assuaged her fears temporarily, but she could not dismiss the nagging fear in the back of her mind that something else could still be looming on the horizon.
But she voiced no such dark thoughts to the butler; he was recovering, after all, and there were ears within the infirmary. Instead, she gave him a warm smile, one that was easy to summon considering the comfort she took in his well-being. He even had a fledgling dodo bird waddling about, a gift given to him by a colleague. He seemed proud and happily distracted by the creature, having even given it the dignified name of “Wilhelm.†So Roen kept the news to herself, that Nero had given up in his quest to save Ul’dah, and that she was now on her own trying to salvage what she could. She was just grateful that Gideon was alright.
As the paladin looked to the distant setting sun that colored the Eastern Thanalan sky in bright gold and red hues, she drew out a note from her pocket and read the words again.
“Comfort is often hard to come by, especially in dire circumstances, but I recall one particular method you mentioned. Take such moments when available.
-G.N.â€
That note from Mister North had come with a specially packaged delivery of chanterelle saute. Roen still smiled distantly at the memory of the conversation they had shared many moons ago. It was one of many, for she had always found his placid demeanor and apathetic outlook on things objective and refreshing.
"It has troubled me that I asked this of you. Actually that I have asked others to help me in this endeavor," she had said to him as they looked over the waterfall in Eastern Thanalan. Her heart had been heavy with worry.
“Madam will remember that I, in fact, asked the opportunity of her specifically.†Gideon’s usual serene disposition did not waver.
"Aye. Others have volunteered as well. But...it does not put me at ease. This is a risk."
“Madam, I am well aware of the danger,†the valet said in his ever calm and unerringly polite tone. “It has already taken from me, and thus replaced, any purpose I had before it. If I die in pursuit of my purpose, that is a loss to nobody. It will be, as they say, a loose end tied up.â€
Roen frowned. "Surely, it is a loss. To someone."
Gideon chuckled quietly. “Madam overestimates the breadth of my social connection. I am a tool to be wielded, madam, and if a tool breaks, then another is easily acquired.â€
"You are more than that, Mister North. Everyone is."
“A severed limb, madam, cannot operate without the body's direction...nor can it develop its own impetus of being.â€
"Perhaps, if that is all it was.†The paladin shook her head. “There are plants, where you cut it off at the branch, then you give it a vase of water, and it grows its own roots. Its own branches. It just needs a bit of water to give it nurture."
The valet brightened at her response. “Ah! Madam is a student of horticulture. A breadth of education is the sign of a rounded, wholesome upbringing.â€
"You truly do remind me of those I knew in my childhood.†She responded with a growing smile. “Such words were said to me rather sternly. I had not known then, that they were so well learned as you were.â€
“Suffice it to say the training to become a valet was not altogether pleasant at times. The whimsy of the upper class was imagined to be...broad, bizarre, and requiring the most versatile of minds and skillsets. I can sew, cook, clean, read, and even perform some rudimentary chemistry…†Gideon shook his head, a brief look of exasperation on his face.
Roen could not help but be impressed. "Then you are probably one of the most educated person I know in Eorzea."
“Madam is pleased to exaggerate†Gideon nodded politely, but nevertheless flickered a tiny smile.
"And you are much too modest." Roen chuckled quietly.
“If Madam is attempting to fluster me with compliments, she may find I am quite swoon-proof.†Gideon looked away, as if to hide a brief but mischievous smile.
The paladin flicked him a sidelong glance, her own lips curling into a lopsided grin. "Hm. Swoon-proof. I have not met such before. Alas Mister North, I will confess. I am rather poor at making people swoon. So take my words as you will. I say it as I see it."
“...Madam Deneith.â€
"Mister North..?"
“If you do not find it presumptuous, or forward.†He bowed slightly. “What is madam's favorite food?â€
"Ah. Um.†Roen blinked, surprised. It was not what she had expected to be asked. “My favorite dish." Amusement lingered on her lips as she tapped a finger against them in thought. "My mother used to make a few things. She loved garlic...and there was this dish she made with mushrooms." Her expression and tone had turned dreamy. "That was a long time ago.â€
Gideon regarded her in silence for a moment longer. “Very good, madam,†he said finally.
"Why do you ask, Mister North?"
He answered with a pleasant smile. “Idle conversation, Madam. Think nothing of it.â€
The dish that was delivered moons later was carefully packaged, and when she opened it, a delectable aroma of mushrooms, butter, and garlic greeted her senses. Gideon had even added some extra spices, ones that reminded her of home.
Take such moments, when able… Roen told herself as she folded the note and tucked it back into her pocket.
The sun had completely set over the horizon, the dark velvet of night starting to blanket the sky above. Roen rose from her perch overlooking Drybone, taking one last look at the people milling about below. The guards were lighting the lamps, and warm light was starting to filter through the windows from the buildings. Two children darted across the courtyard, joining their parents who were folding up their vendor tents for the night.
She would take comfort in such sights this day. Until now, the seeming failure of Nero’s efforts--his abandonment of his cause, and the corruption and suffering that still festered in Ul’dah...they all seemed overwhelming for her to face alone. But at least today, she was heartened to know that one dear friend was spared his life, and there were plenty others who led their lives in peace far from Ul’dah.
The paladin glanced up at the stars that were slowly starting to peek through the night sky and watched them slowly glow brighter in the darkness. She stood there for a long moment as if to search them intently, before turning and making her way back to Ul’dah.
