“Is it even remotely possible you could be the slightest bit wrong about me?"
Gideon was there, with Jameson Taeros in his study.
Roen had entered with a scimitar in hand, the small round shield of the Brass Blades buckled onto her arm. She did not notice the aching fatigue to her limbs nor her breaths that came short and quick. Her senses were almost spinning with the thoughts of failed plans and hopes. Her heart was pounding and her mind throbbed with a need to do something. Anything.
All those deaths could not have been for nothing. All the suffering…all that had happened…
Anden Anduron.
Crimson Mountain.
Natalie.
Crofte.
It had to end.
“I would not expect you to follow, especially if I decide the snows of Ishgard are more to my--†Taeros was seated behind his desk, fingers laced upon his lap, speaking evenly to his valet when he spotted her at the door. He raised his brows at the woman in the Brass Blade armor. “What is the meaning of this?†he demanded.
Gideon turned with his gaze upon her as well. “Sir is not to be disturbed without prior appointment or myself as an intermediary, Miss.†His tone was sharp and crisp.
Roen knew she had only seconds to act while she still had the advantage. Both the men’s attention went to her drawn weapon, and even as she took quick steps across the room, she spotted Gideon drawing his thin book from his jacket in a smooth languid motion. She did not want to, but she had to incapacitate the butler. Anything else would implicate him or put her at a disadvantage.
“Milord, the prisoner has escaped!†She knew her lie would not be believed, both men would recognize her voice soon enough. But it bought her enough time to close the distance between herself and the valet. With a hidden grimace, she bashed Gideon on the head with her shield. She forced her expression to remain neutral as she saw his head slam from her fist to the desk, sending a tea tray there flying. The paladin could not afford another glance to the man -- her friend -- as he lay motionless on the floor.
“Now see here…†Jameson started even as his hands unclasped from his lap and slipped beneath the desk. Roen knew not if he was reaching for something, but she could not take any chances. She summoned aether into a blinding flash of light as she darted around the desk.
“Do not move, lest you lose a hand," she ordered. "Or something more vital.†She held the blade at ready.
“At ease, friend,†the noble said calmly as he slowly brought his hands up into plain view. She could see that he did not remain blinded for long, as he slowly stood from his seat. He frowned. “Roen.â€
The paladin took another step forward, setting the edge of her blade against his neck before the noble regained his full bearings.
Taeros did not seem fazed. He glanced to his unconscious valet. “Gideon treated you with utmost respect. That was unworthy.†His disappointment was clear in his bent brows. “He is no threat to you.â€
"He is another one of yours. At least he will come to no further harm if he remains unconscious." Roen forcibly kept the guilt from her tone and refused to look to where the butler still laid. She prayed that he was not hurt badly.
"He should come to no further harm regardless."
Roen narrowed her eyes on the noble. "You, on the other hand."
Jameson only smiled. "The end for me?" he asked softly.
The paladin flexed her fingers slightly around the hilt of her scimitar. There was hesitation that coiled her wearied muscles. "Why not? You have caused so much sorrow." She hated the emotion that was already rising in her voice.
"Many. Yes. I am rarely who people want me to be.â€
"There is a reason why so many believe the world would be a better place if you were no more." Her arm shook slightly from the weight of the armor and the sword. Or was it her doubts that made her tremble? "Would this not be a better place, if today was your last?"
“One life to save many. That is so very Lazarov of you,†Taeros said with a sneer.
"I am…nothing like him." The anger in her retort could not be muted.
He tilted his head. “I am very willing to die," he said softly, "but I would ask for a few questions to be answered first." He inclined his head deferentially. "If I may go screaming into the hells with due knowledge.â€
Roen clenched her fist tight to steady her grip. She nodded once.
"These recent murders. You truly know nothing of them?"
Roen blinked behind the fly-mask. "The nobles...?" She shook her head. "I knew of no such plans for assassination." Even in her denial, she felt a sudden chill in her spine as she looked to the length of her own blade that ended at the man’s throat. What was she considering now if it was not assassination?
Jameson nodded. "Then perhaps Lazarov's aim will be met regardless. I have come upon some recent information which leads me to believe the Syndicate's demise may very well be accomplished from within."
“What…?â€
The noble’s eyes flickered to the blade, just a moment, and then back to the paladin. "One of the councilmembers, if not more than one, is beginning the necessary steps forward toward an ultimately bloody endgame, now that the Sultanate has taken some notable defeats." He curled a thin smile. "I was just discussing with Mr. North our relocation options. Ishgard is cold, but dragons are safer than my friends these days, it seems. The removal of certain key Monetarists only lent my enemies more ammunition."
The paladin stared at him. "...You think yourself a target then. From the Monetarists reorganizing from within?"
"Trimming the fat, so to speak. Congratulations, Roen. All your efforts have paid off. The scales have been tipped, and not in my favor. I do not intend to be here for the end result." His smile broadened suddenly. "Nor, it seems, do you intend for me to be."
Roen gritted her teeth. "I never wanted your death. Despite all that you have done. I thought targeting you would cause a disadvantage for the rest of the Monetarists. Along with the rest, I wanted you and your kind to face justice.â€
Taeros shrugged. "I was paranoid. I admit to as much. Lazarov's threat blinded me to the actual enemy, and it was not at my gates, but within. Too many secrets have spilled out of this wound. I must concede the game."
“Justice is all I wanted from the start. But laying in that cell for suns, delirious, I began to see that you must have something personal against me."
The nobled blinked, surprised. "Against you?"
"Why else disgrace three Sultansworns? I was freshly sworn in. Is it because I am a Garlean like you? You had me placed under Anduron. Do you know what kind of man he is?!"
Taeros seemed to bristle a little. "My treatment of you was ill becoming of me, I will grant, and I had hoped to make amends of it with my more recent gentle care and your eventual freedom. But..." He frowned, and his words turned sharper. "I have actually been protecting you. Did I not relinquish the evidence of your heritage to Natalie? As to Anduron..." he sighed. "Yes. Another misstep amidst so many. He owed me a favor. I thought you were shielded. I did not know Anden for the creature he was. I have him far away now, where he can harm very few."
“No more lies!" Roen snarled, as she gripped again her sword, the edge of her blade turning just slightly against his neck. "Every word out of your lips is a lie, that is how you play the game is it not? You yourself sit here in your gilded throne of wealth posing as an Ul'dahn noble, and yet you worked to condemn me for the Imperial heritage that you and I both share."
The smile on the noble was unsettling. “Is that what you think?â€
"What else should I think?"
“Words will not sway your mind, but...they say a picture is worth a thousand. Might I stay my death a moment longer to show you something I have in my possession? It will require me to unlock a strong box I keep beneath my desk. If I may?"
Roen swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She nodded, and took a single step back to allow him room.
He glanced at the sword still hovering near him. "You needn't shave me with that. You are armed and armored, and I am not. Just plunge your blade through my back if you find my movements offensive."
Taeros lowered his hands, and it was only then that the paladin spotted the blade that slipped immediately into his palm...but he casually tossed it onto the desk as he lowered himself to one knee, drawing out a key from a chain around his neck.
"We share Garlean roots. That is true. But moreover..." He unlocked the strong box. "I was allowed passage to Ul'dah because of my roots. I was very good at blending in with the rest of the Eorzeans. Once I arrived, the Empire found many uses for me. But after the Calamity, I had a singular task assigned to me by a woman named Raelisanne Banurein. It was to find you and return you to your father, Dorien nan Luraes."
Roen found herself frozen and rooted where she stood.
The noble removed a locket from the strong box and opened it carefully and slid it across the desk toward her. When it nearly slid off the edge, Roen lowered her blade instinctively to catch it. Taeros only waited patiently as she studied the rendering within, a red-haired woman with deep blue eyes.
The paladin stared intently at the face she knew all too well from her childhood. "What…is this."
"That is the locket Melia Luraes gifted to me the day she agreed to wed your father. She hoped I would remember her kindly. I have.†His tone softened. "I loved her. If you can believe it. But I was not worthy of her returned affections."
Roen could not tear her eyes away from the locket and the picture within. "You…you knew my mother...?"
"You remain a quandry, I will grant.†Jameson sighed. “I cannot return you to your father. In truth I despise the man, and not for his more obvious crimes. And yet you continually ally yourself with my enemies. It would be one thing to forgive if you merely remained on the side of the law and sought to bring me in for justice. No doubt I have wronged many of the people of Ul'dah in some fashion. Although…I have come to love them too, in a way. I am unwilling to return to Garlemald."
The paladin could only stand in shocked silence, her eyes darting from the locket to the man standing before her. The man she thought she knew everything about.
“But no.†Jameson sighed, his gaze boring into her. “It had to be Lazarov. Of all people.â€
Roen’s eyes were wide beneath the mask and her words came slowly. “I...do not...believe..."
“Yes, you do.†He seemed almost disdainful of her as he glared back at her.
The paladin’s sword only hung limp by the leather loop from her wrist, she had released it without knowing, the locket still in her palm. She did nothing as Taeros rounded the desk to kneel by his valet who was now stirring on the ground.
“My...humblest apologies, sir…†Roen heard Gideon murmur.
Roen shoved the locket in her belt pouch as she too walked around the desk. Gideon had a line of blood trickling from his hairline and shards of shattered porcelain littering his dark hair.
“No offense at all, Mr. North," Taeros said calmly. "I do not believe you will be assaulted any further.†Jameson’s tone was surprisingly gentle and reassuring as he removed the valet’s handkerchief and placed it on the wound. “Be at ease, and do hold that there."
Gideon kept the cloth held while his other hand fumbled for a little silver booklet he had drawn out earlier. “Yes. I will...my book, I can...repair myself, adequately.â€
Roen approached both of them hesitantly and somewhat awkwardly. "I can...I should heal him. I am the one that..." She was fumbling herself for words, she could not recall any of the rage or the certainty that drove her to come here in the first place.
"No arcana at this moment, Mr. North, please,†Taeros chided. He then shook his head the looked at the paladin disapprovingly. “You struck a servant, woman.†As though the act were beneath the basest villain.
Gideon looked up to her as well, speaking with mustered politeness, his words somewhat muddled. “Miss's...deliberate non-lethality is...well-noted, and appreciated.â€
The words only made her grimace. She was glad for the mask for it hid her deep guilt, even as she knelt next to the butler. She gave the noble one more single wary glance before she removed one gauntlet, laying her bare hand on Gideon’s temple. “Hold still, please.â€
“Could I perhaps find a chair for anyone…?†Gideon mumbled.
“No, Mr. North, please remain still for the nonce.†Jameson laid a firm hand on the valet. He shot the paladin a frown even as she closed her eyes to summon the aether for a cure spell. “He did not present a threat to you," James said, continuing to chide her. Few things apparently made him as irked as having an injured manservant. "It was absurd and emotionally triggered.â€
Roen inhaled sharply when the healing was done, her eyes opening to assess the mended wound. She gently took the handkerchief from his hand and lightly dabbed the bloodstains from Gideon’s cheeks. “My apologies,†she murmured.
“My humblest thanks, Miss.†Gideon nodded. His eyes then went to the shattered porcelain about them and frowned in dismay.
“And there we go," Jameson murmured. "Friends anon.â€
The paladin stiffened, dropping her hand as soon as she heard those words, setting the handkerchief upon the butler’s lap. She rose abruptly, only to find herself swaying slightly at the effort. She hid it quickly enough, but her hand went to the hilt of the sword just in case. The fire within was gone. The pounding of her heart had ceased. Her body ached once more and her mind and muscles screamed with exhaustion. The sleep ward was fading from her system, as was her bloodlust. She turned for the door.
“Roen,†Taeros called out after her. “That is my locket.â€
The paladin stopped just by the doorway, fishing the locket from her pouch and laying it on the nearby mantle. She did not turn back to the men behind her.
“Also, I would advise against returning to the city,†Jameson said calmly. “You are still wanted for crimes against the city-state.â€
Roen did not answer him as she exited.
Gideon was there, with Jameson Taeros in his study.
Roen had entered with a scimitar in hand, the small round shield of the Brass Blades buckled onto her arm. She did not notice the aching fatigue to her limbs nor her breaths that came short and quick. Her senses were almost spinning with the thoughts of failed plans and hopes. Her heart was pounding and her mind throbbed with a need to do something. Anything.
All those deaths could not have been for nothing. All the suffering…all that had happened…
Anden Anduron.
Crimson Mountain.
Natalie.
Crofte.
It had to end.
“I would not expect you to follow, especially if I decide the snows of Ishgard are more to my--†Taeros was seated behind his desk, fingers laced upon his lap, speaking evenly to his valet when he spotted her at the door. He raised his brows at the woman in the Brass Blade armor. “What is the meaning of this?†he demanded.
Gideon turned with his gaze upon her as well. “Sir is not to be disturbed without prior appointment or myself as an intermediary, Miss.†His tone was sharp and crisp.
Roen knew she had only seconds to act while she still had the advantage. Both the men’s attention went to her drawn weapon, and even as she took quick steps across the room, she spotted Gideon drawing his thin book from his jacket in a smooth languid motion. She did not want to, but she had to incapacitate the butler. Anything else would implicate him or put her at a disadvantage.
“Milord, the prisoner has escaped!†She knew her lie would not be believed, both men would recognize her voice soon enough. But it bought her enough time to close the distance between herself and the valet. With a hidden grimace, she bashed Gideon on the head with her shield. She forced her expression to remain neutral as she saw his head slam from her fist to the desk, sending a tea tray there flying. The paladin could not afford another glance to the man -- her friend -- as he lay motionless on the floor.
“Now see here…†Jameson started even as his hands unclasped from his lap and slipped beneath the desk. Roen knew not if he was reaching for something, but she could not take any chances. She summoned aether into a blinding flash of light as she darted around the desk.
“Do not move, lest you lose a hand," she ordered. "Or something more vital.†She held the blade at ready.
“At ease, friend,†the noble said calmly as he slowly brought his hands up into plain view. She could see that he did not remain blinded for long, as he slowly stood from his seat. He frowned. “Roen.â€
The paladin took another step forward, setting the edge of her blade against his neck before the noble regained his full bearings.
Taeros did not seem fazed. He glanced to his unconscious valet. “Gideon treated you with utmost respect. That was unworthy.†His disappointment was clear in his bent brows. “He is no threat to you.â€
"He is another one of yours. At least he will come to no further harm if he remains unconscious." Roen forcibly kept the guilt from her tone and refused to look to where the butler still laid. She prayed that he was not hurt badly.
"He should come to no further harm regardless."
Roen narrowed her eyes on the noble. "You, on the other hand."
Jameson only smiled. "The end for me?" he asked softly.
The paladin flexed her fingers slightly around the hilt of her scimitar. There was hesitation that coiled her wearied muscles. "Why not? You have caused so much sorrow." She hated the emotion that was already rising in her voice.
"Many. Yes. I am rarely who people want me to be.â€
"There is a reason why so many believe the world would be a better place if you were no more." Her arm shook slightly from the weight of the armor and the sword. Or was it her doubts that made her tremble? "Would this not be a better place, if today was your last?"
“One life to save many. That is so very Lazarov of you,†Taeros said with a sneer.
"I am…nothing like him." The anger in her retort could not be muted.
He tilted his head. “I am very willing to die," he said softly, "but I would ask for a few questions to be answered first." He inclined his head deferentially. "If I may go screaming into the hells with due knowledge.â€
Roen clenched her fist tight to steady her grip. She nodded once.
"These recent murders. You truly know nothing of them?"
Roen blinked behind the fly-mask. "The nobles...?" She shook her head. "I knew of no such plans for assassination." Even in her denial, she felt a sudden chill in her spine as she looked to the length of her own blade that ended at the man’s throat. What was she considering now if it was not assassination?
Jameson nodded. "Then perhaps Lazarov's aim will be met regardless. I have come upon some recent information which leads me to believe the Syndicate's demise may very well be accomplished from within."
“What…?â€
The noble’s eyes flickered to the blade, just a moment, and then back to the paladin. "One of the councilmembers, if not more than one, is beginning the necessary steps forward toward an ultimately bloody endgame, now that the Sultanate has taken some notable defeats." He curled a thin smile. "I was just discussing with Mr. North our relocation options. Ishgard is cold, but dragons are safer than my friends these days, it seems. The removal of certain key Monetarists only lent my enemies more ammunition."
The paladin stared at him. "...You think yourself a target then. From the Monetarists reorganizing from within?"
"Trimming the fat, so to speak. Congratulations, Roen. All your efforts have paid off. The scales have been tipped, and not in my favor. I do not intend to be here for the end result." His smile broadened suddenly. "Nor, it seems, do you intend for me to be."
Roen gritted her teeth. "I never wanted your death. Despite all that you have done. I thought targeting you would cause a disadvantage for the rest of the Monetarists. Along with the rest, I wanted you and your kind to face justice.â€
Taeros shrugged. "I was paranoid. I admit to as much. Lazarov's threat blinded me to the actual enemy, and it was not at my gates, but within. Too many secrets have spilled out of this wound. I must concede the game."
“Justice is all I wanted from the start. But laying in that cell for suns, delirious, I began to see that you must have something personal against me."
The nobled blinked, surprised. "Against you?"
"Why else disgrace three Sultansworns? I was freshly sworn in. Is it because I am a Garlean like you? You had me placed under Anduron. Do you know what kind of man he is?!"
Taeros seemed to bristle a little. "My treatment of you was ill becoming of me, I will grant, and I had hoped to make amends of it with my more recent gentle care and your eventual freedom. But..." He frowned, and his words turned sharper. "I have actually been protecting you. Did I not relinquish the evidence of your heritage to Natalie? As to Anduron..." he sighed. "Yes. Another misstep amidst so many. He owed me a favor. I thought you were shielded. I did not know Anden for the creature he was. I have him far away now, where he can harm very few."
“No more lies!" Roen snarled, as she gripped again her sword, the edge of her blade turning just slightly against his neck. "Every word out of your lips is a lie, that is how you play the game is it not? You yourself sit here in your gilded throne of wealth posing as an Ul'dahn noble, and yet you worked to condemn me for the Imperial heritage that you and I both share."
The smile on the noble was unsettling. “Is that what you think?â€
"What else should I think?"
“Words will not sway your mind, but...they say a picture is worth a thousand. Might I stay my death a moment longer to show you something I have in my possession? It will require me to unlock a strong box I keep beneath my desk. If I may?"
Roen swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She nodded, and took a single step back to allow him room.
He glanced at the sword still hovering near him. "You needn't shave me with that. You are armed and armored, and I am not. Just plunge your blade through my back if you find my movements offensive."
Taeros lowered his hands, and it was only then that the paladin spotted the blade that slipped immediately into his palm...but he casually tossed it onto the desk as he lowered himself to one knee, drawing out a key from a chain around his neck.
"We share Garlean roots. That is true. But moreover..." He unlocked the strong box. "I was allowed passage to Ul'dah because of my roots. I was very good at blending in with the rest of the Eorzeans. Once I arrived, the Empire found many uses for me. But after the Calamity, I had a singular task assigned to me by a woman named Raelisanne Banurein. It was to find you and return you to your father, Dorien nan Luraes."
Roen found herself frozen and rooted where she stood.
The noble removed a locket from the strong box and opened it carefully and slid it across the desk toward her. When it nearly slid off the edge, Roen lowered her blade instinctively to catch it. Taeros only waited patiently as she studied the rendering within, a red-haired woman with deep blue eyes.
The paladin stared intently at the face she knew all too well from her childhood. "What…is this."
"That is the locket Melia Luraes gifted to me the day she agreed to wed your father. She hoped I would remember her kindly. I have.†His tone softened. "I loved her. If you can believe it. But I was not worthy of her returned affections."
Roen could not tear her eyes away from the locket and the picture within. "You…you knew my mother...?"
"You remain a quandry, I will grant.†Jameson sighed. “I cannot return you to your father. In truth I despise the man, and not for his more obvious crimes. And yet you continually ally yourself with my enemies. It would be one thing to forgive if you merely remained on the side of the law and sought to bring me in for justice. No doubt I have wronged many of the people of Ul'dah in some fashion. Although…I have come to love them too, in a way. I am unwilling to return to Garlemald."
The paladin could only stand in shocked silence, her eyes darting from the locket to the man standing before her. The man she thought she knew everything about.
“But no.†Jameson sighed, his gaze boring into her. “It had to be Lazarov. Of all people.â€
Roen’s eyes were wide beneath the mask and her words came slowly. “I...do not...believe..."
“Yes, you do.†He seemed almost disdainful of her as he glared back at her.
The paladin’s sword only hung limp by the leather loop from her wrist, she had released it without knowing, the locket still in her palm. She did nothing as Taeros rounded the desk to kneel by his valet who was now stirring on the ground.
“My...humblest apologies, sir…†Roen heard Gideon murmur.
Roen shoved the locket in her belt pouch as she too walked around the desk. Gideon had a line of blood trickling from his hairline and shards of shattered porcelain littering his dark hair.
“No offense at all, Mr. North," Taeros said calmly. "I do not believe you will be assaulted any further.†Jameson’s tone was surprisingly gentle and reassuring as he removed the valet’s handkerchief and placed it on the wound. “Be at ease, and do hold that there."
Gideon kept the cloth held while his other hand fumbled for a little silver booklet he had drawn out earlier. “Yes. I will...my book, I can...repair myself, adequately.â€
Roen approached both of them hesitantly and somewhat awkwardly. "I can...I should heal him. I am the one that..." She was fumbling herself for words, she could not recall any of the rage or the certainty that drove her to come here in the first place.
"No arcana at this moment, Mr. North, please,†Taeros chided. He then shook his head the looked at the paladin disapprovingly. “You struck a servant, woman.†As though the act were beneath the basest villain.
Gideon looked up to her as well, speaking with mustered politeness, his words somewhat muddled. “Miss's...deliberate non-lethality is...well-noted, and appreciated.â€
The words only made her grimace. She was glad for the mask for it hid her deep guilt, even as she knelt next to the butler. She gave the noble one more single wary glance before she removed one gauntlet, laying her bare hand on Gideon’s temple. “Hold still, please.â€
“Could I perhaps find a chair for anyone…?†Gideon mumbled.
“No, Mr. North, please remain still for the nonce.†Jameson laid a firm hand on the valet. He shot the paladin a frown even as she closed her eyes to summon the aether for a cure spell. “He did not present a threat to you," James said, continuing to chide her. Few things apparently made him as irked as having an injured manservant. "It was absurd and emotionally triggered.â€
Roen inhaled sharply when the healing was done, her eyes opening to assess the mended wound. She gently took the handkerchief from his hand and lightly dabbed the bloodstains from Gideon’s cheeks. “My apologies,†she murmured.
“My humblest thanks, Miss.†Gideon nodded. His eyes then went to the shattered porcelain about them and frowned in dismay.
“And there we go," Jameson murmured. "Friends anon.â€
The paladin stiffened, dropping her hand as soon as she heard those words, setting the handkerchief upon the butler’s lap. She rose abruptly, only to find herself swaying slightly at the effort. She hid it quickly enough, but her hand went to the hilt of the sword just in case. The fire within was gone. The pounding of her heart had ceased. Her body ached once more and her mind and muscles screamed with exhaustion. The sleep ward was fading from her system, as was her bloodlust. She turned for the door.
“Roen,†Taeros called out after her. “That is my locket.â€
The paladin stopped just by the doorway, fishing the locket from her pouch and laying it on the nearby mantle. She did not turn back to the men behind her.
“Also, I would advise against returning to the city,†Jameson said calmly. “You are still wanted for crimes against the city-state.â€
Roen did not answer him as she exited.
