Second Hand Faith [Complete]

[Roen]

_{((This post follows events from here and here.))}

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'll never see the end of this, Roen thought darkly. Or worse, they will truly be the end of me. She cursed the day she'd ever heard of the documents.

 

The papers contained the testimony of a confessed Garlean spy, The Rose, who had fingered Roen as his accomplice. He had admitted to using Roen's knowledge of the Resistance to find the stolen ceruleum core, as well as her association with the Sultansworns to set up a conflict that then served as a distraction for the ceruleum theft. He even knew the name and the details of her Garlean father, a high ranking military officer. That was in there too.

 

Roen knew that the evidence was damning. It was because it was so damning that it had forced Natalie’s hand to do what she did to secure it: having Roen kidnapped and out of the way, and to lure out and capture her brother by blood, Gharen Wolfsong, to turn over to the Syndicate.

 

And now Roen had entrusted this cursed evidence to Hornet, who was to turn it over to Ser Crofte, a Sultansworn who seemed determined to use the evidence that had caused so much suffering to try and right some of the wrongs it had caused. Ser Crofte had said that it could save more than just her. Did she also mean Natalie and Kage who were still trapped in their service to the Syndicate?

 

Roen had dared to hope, dared to believe in this new Sultansworn who had shown her nothing but her devotion to her Oath and also compassion to Roen’s plight. That perhaps, out of all this misery, something good could still be salvaged. For not just herself, but Kage and Natalie.

 

But when Hornet returned earlier today with her grim tidings, Roen was reminded yet again that she continued to make the same mistakes that had led to so much hardship: she had been too trusting. Hornet was convinced that the Sworn were just another cog in the corrupted system that was Ul’Dah. Even though they both held genuine hope for Crofte’s success, the fact that her commander told her to arrest the suspected spy did not sit well with Hornet, Roen, or Gharen.

 

But there was a part of Roen that did not want to surrender the small thread of hope that she had been given by the Sultansworn.

 

So as dark rainy clouds gathered above, Hornet, Gharen and Roen approached the Lighthouse south of Moraby Bay, to hear what Ser Crofte had to say. As they walked up the hill approaching the meeting place, Roen stole glances at Gharen’s shining armor, white and blue and glimmering even beneath the cloudy sky; it signified him as a Free Paladin. She hid her own pang of remorse at the sight of it, for she herself felt that she was unworthy of it; dismissed from the Sultana’s service as she had been, then branded deserter by the Brass Blades. Roen was a lost paladin without a purpose.

 

“Ser Deneith.” Ser Crofte greeted her, always with that title. It was meant as an honor, yet only brought shadows of regret; reminders of mistakes made. “Good to see you about once more," Crofte continued. She nodded in greeting to Hornet and Gharen.

 

"Aye, Ser Crofte, 'tis good to have a name te go with th' face," Gharen said. He stood between the Sultansworn and Roen, with Hornet in her dark armor and an enormous lance standing off to the side.

 

"I trust Madam Hornet has delivered my message. Unless she has brought you here for me to relay it myself."

 

"She has, but I'd nae mind hearin' it from yer lips." Gharen narrowed his eyes at the Sultansworn.

 

"Very well." Crofte nodded respectfully and cleared her throat. “I have taken the file given by you into mine own custody. It is safely locked away. Using its contents, I have assumed full responsibility for the continuation of the investigation. It is no longer the Brass Blade’s responsibility to track her down."

 

Both Gharen and Hornet shifted in their stance just slightly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

"In addition, I have been ordered by mine own superior to apprehend Ser Deneith and detain her." Crofte's even tone never wavered. “She would be detained, not in the common gaols, but with the Sultansworn.  A proper cell, better accommodations. And I will be her personal guard throughout. In the meantime, I will continue to conduct my investigation into these false charges with the ultimate goal of acquittal." She paused, her green eyes looking to each of them in turn. “I have been given a limited number of suns for a preliminary investigation before I am forced to attempt apprehension."

 

Obsidian Hornet crossed her arms and looked to Gharen and Roen, her scowl displayed prominently.

 

Crofte fixed her gaze to that of Gharen’s. "I had told Ser Deneith before, I would not proceed without her own blessing on the matter. It is that same reason I decided to relay these goings on first, before acting." Her gaze then shifted to Roen, expectant.

 

“And if I do not wish to go?" Roen could not hide the disappointment from her voice.

 

"I shall stall for as long as I am able, you have my word. If you should choose not to go, then hide. Stay hidden and pray I do not catch wind of your location." The woman crossed her arms, her expression intent. "Otherwise... when the Captain forces my hand, I shall have no choice. You do understand, Ser Deneith?"

 

Roen blinked. She understood Crofte fully. As raindrops began to fall, she bowed her head.

 

"Well I'm sorry," Gharen muttered. "Nae happen'n. I'll lay this out fer ye. First, th' sworn have no jurisdiction in La Noscea. So ye can tell yer superior te go pound sand. Second, ye have two outcomes if'n ye come after my sister. Neither end well fer ye."

 

"For me, no, it most likely shall not end well, Master Wolfsong.” Crofte seemed resigned. “However I will not be alone if it comes to it. Which is why I give the warning now... I am loath to shed blood, Ser. Any blood."

 

"All the more reason to ignore that order.” Hornet rumbled. “Lead them on a wild goose chase if you must."

 

Crofte gave Hornet a sidelong glance. "I said I would stall, Madam, and I shall. As long as you stay out of my reach, it will not be a lie." She shook her head slightly.

 

"You don't want to do this, so don't. It is not that difficult." Hornet responded dismissively.

 

"Perhaps for you." Crofte answered simply, then turned her gaze back to Roen.

 

Roen peered back up at Crofte, and understood. She too could not lie to her superiors. And looking upon the woman, a part of her was not surprised by this outcome. “The evidence says I am a spy. Of course Captain Jenlyns would want me brought in. It would be the same for anyone."

 

"I'm not the one determined to get people killed hunting an innocent woman..." Hornet growled.

 

"You think I am looking for this?" Crofte swiveled her head back to the Roegadyn. "I swore to save her, and I shall."

 

"I think you're an idiot who can't see past her own nose.” Hornet did not relent, her words unforgiving. “Whatever code you're following is leading to this, and look what it's got you."

 

“She is doing it for the safety for the Sultana,” Roen acknowledged, her voice lowered with a hint of resignation.

 

“The Sultana is not in danger.” Hornet snorted.

 

"You are both correct." Crofte replied cooly. "Madam Hornet, unlike some persons, I do not break my oaths so easily."

 

Roen stiffened.

 

"I do wonder what that woman is worth to be all this damned trouble." Hornet shrugged and frowned up at the dark skies that continued to spray a light drizzle on them.

 

"Miss Crofte, I am no 'sworn, I am a Free Paladin sworn te protect any in need,” Gharen interjected after a long pause, his voice calm and expression determined. “Ul'dah has shown my family no kindness, myself branded a terrorist by a 'sworn no less, and my sister taken captive by tha' same individual. So I will be protectin' my sister from Ul'dah."

 

"Aye, as you say.  But what does your sister want, Ser Wolfsong?" Crofte took a long exhale, the rain tossing the chocobo feather on her beret this way and that. Roen’s eyes fixed on it as the Sultansworn continued. “She gave me the evidence. She agreed for me to aid in this matter. I did not act on my own behalf."

 

"You don't owe them anything, Roen." Hornet uncrossed her arms, stepping closer to Roen. Her voice was soft but held a note of fear.

 

"If I did not care for what she wanted, I would not have come alone."

 

“I... I believed you." Roen frowned, raindrops starting to gather at the tip of her lashes. "I think... I think I still believe you." She almost did not believe her own words as she uttered them.

 

Crofte blinked. "Ser Deneith... I... I am not giving up. I have only started." She inhaled and folded her arms behind her. “I must locate this Flame who is mentioned, then track down the ... Rose. Even if you were detained, nothing would happen to you until my investigation was completed."

 

Roen stared at the woman, her own thoughts a storm of emotions and doubts.

 

"Again, there is time before my hand is forced... do not make this choice hastily." Her voice lowered. "I am already risking much by being here. If the Captain knew I was in your presence again and did not act..." she trailed off.

 

Roen nodded slowly. "I will think on your words, Ser Crofte.”

 

"Thank you."

 

"I've been told yer trustworthy, but I don' really care if'n ye put her up with th' Sultana herself.” Gharen's eyes were narrowed. “People with good intentions have done enough damage as o' late. Pass this to yer superior. He sends ye after us, we disappear, an ye'll ne'er find us, or he'll have a larger incident te clean up."

 

“I will remember that,” Crofte said, shifting her gaze to Gharen.

 

"Understand this, Ser Crofte. I do not wish for any bloodshed." Roen stepped around her brother, approaching the Sultansworn.

 

"I feel that is something we all agree upon." Crofte nodded to her. She then glanced to Hornet and Gharen. "I have said my peace. If there is nothing further..." She nodded to each of them. "Should Ser Deneith choose to willingly surrender, you may send word directly to me. Otherwise, I shall stall as long as I am able, then send warning to Madam Hornet."

 

After giving a courteous bow to both Hornet and Gharen, Crofte turned to Roen with a crisp salute. There was a moment’s hesitation before Roen returned it. She felt compelled to, and her eyes lingered on Crofte for two breaths after.

 

"Then I bid ye best o' luck, an' a good day, Miss Crofte." Gharen nodded back to the Sultansworn and led Roen away from the Lighthouse.

 

When they were earshot away, Hornet turned to the siblings, her voice low. “Move the camp. And tell no one, not even me.”

 

Roen furrowed her brows in alarm as she looked to Hornet. The Roegadyn woman only answered her with a slight smile.

 

"Don't worry about me." She placed a hand on Roen’s shoulder for a brief moment with a squeeze. "This just may be the first time that I'm really fighting on the right side of things."

 

Gharen and Hornet exchanged a look and a smile before they both turned, returning to the road leading away. Roen hesitated a moment, her eyes going back to the figure still standing by the Lighthouse and the darkening skies behind her, before she finally turned to join her brother and Hornet.

[Roen]

"You're sure about this?"

 

Obsidian Hornet’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. Roen was staring off at the lighthouse south of Moraby Drydocks. A light misty drizzle was beginning to descend from the skies, lending a grey hue to the seaside landscape. Even though the heavy cloak shielded her from the cold, Roen wrapped her arms around herself as the gusty ocean winds billowed her hood. She used to love the cold. But now it reminded her too much of Coerthas.

 

"It will be how you want it, Roen. Whatever that winds up being." Hornet placed her hand on her shoulder with a reassuring squeeze.

 

"Sometimes I wish I knew what that was, exactly." Roen glanced over at Gharen and Hornet who both stood next to her, her brows drawn with troubled thoughts. "But I do know that I do not want you hurting anyone. Not on my account. Not those we will see today."

 

She meant Natalie of course, and from the look in Hornet’s eyes, the Roegadyn woman knew it too. Roen was not certain that agreeing to meet with Ser Croft and Natalie was a good idea anymore. She had initially agreed, still after some hesitation, resigned to the fact that she could not avoid nor hide from Natalie forever. Last time Roen had seen her was at Crescent Cove, and their exchange had not been kind. And when Ser Crofte contacted them to meet with herself and Natalie, Hornet offered Roen to kill Natalie if she wished.

 

Roen had said no. Roen asked Hornet, implored her not to kill Natalie. Hornet had promised, but even now Roen could see that there was a struggle behind the Roegadyn’s eyes. The desire. Hornet wanted retribution from Natalie for the wrongs she has committed.

 

"I will only do what I have to. If they try to take you, I will defend you,” she said simply. “I remember my promise, Roen.” Hornet gave her a nod then crossed the roped bridge to the other side, waiting for the Sultansworns’ arrival from Moraby.

 

"I am not sure what I will say to her,” Roen murmured quietly. “Or… even if I should.”

 

"I'm sure'n it'll come te ye." Gharen inhaled deeply.

 

"You told me why she did what she did." Roen looked up at her brother. “Have you… forgiven her?”

 

Gharen shook his head, his expression stoic. "No, but 'tis ye that needs te decide whether forgiveness is in her future or nae. I'll nae hurt her because she was a friend o' yers, less o' course she decides te be stupid again."

 

Her frown only deepened as she turned her gaze back toward the ocean.

 

"Do nae let her words define ye lass,” Gharen said, breaking the silence after a pause. "Yer nae as she said tha' day. If'n anything yer stronger than she'll ever hope te be.. an smarter te boot."

 

"I... do not have your strength, Gharen."

 

Gharen stepped up from behind her, putting a hand gently on her shoulder. “Ye do too... you jus' need te find it."

 

It was then that Roen saw two armored Sultansworns approach from the other side of the bridge where Hornet awaited them. Roen placed a hand over her stomach as if to quell the pitted feeling there, as she watched Hornet motion them to stand in the middle of the bridge. Gharen and Hornet flanked both ends.

 

"Master Wolfsong.  A pleasure as always." Crofte glanced from Hornet behind her to Gharen in front of her. Natalie stood silent next to the woman, also wearing the surcoat and armor that befit a Sworn.

 

"Aye, Ser Crofte. I heard yer predicament was taken care o'?" Gharen crossed his arms and nodded once in greeting. Roen glanced from her brother to the Sworn, to spot the neck that no longer wore a collar.

 

“If you refer to my personal dilemma, yes.” The Highlander Sworn nodded calmly.

 

Straightening, Roen took a step to stand near Gharen, although she kept her eyes trained on Ser Crofte. She could see Natalie shift in her stance just slightly.

 

"Tis fine. Seems there have been a lot o' obstacles in need o' passin' as o' late."

 

"Indeed. With regret, I must place another in front of you." Crofte bowed her head slightly.

 

That was when Natalie cleared her throat, breaking her silence. "Ser Crofte, if I may?" Her tone seemed deferential to Crofte, which caught Roen’s attention. When Crofte nodded to Natalie, she continued. "Roen, Ul'dah wants you. They won't stop until they get you, or you flee out of their reach. You have the choice of coming willingly, to what we have been assured is a fair inquiry, to flee to a land beyond their reach, or to wait for someone less... understanding to find you next."

 

The Miqo’te exhaled, and there was a tinge of grim resignation in her words. "The choice is yours." When Crofte shot her a look, Natalie gave the Sworn a sidelong glance. “She deserves to know the truth. Now of all times."

 

The Highlander woman drew herself up tall and turned back to Gharen. "Tis as she says. We are here because I am honorable. I had said I would give warning when my hand was forced."

 

“If you do not come with us today, we will leave.” Natalie added. "But we won't be the end of the matter, Roen. You know how relentless the Jewel can be."

 

After drawing a breath to steel herself, Roen turned to meet Natalie’s gaze, her jaw set. “Why are you here, Natalie?” Her voice sounded more hoarse than she’d like. “Why did you come?”

 

Natalie’s green eyes were as cool as ever. "Because I was ordered to do so.”  A pause. “And I would not entrust this task to another."

 

"Th' jewel's reach is nae as far as one would think Miss Mcbeef.” Gharen growled. “An' I see ye've nae bothered te be humbled any.” His words were also bolstered by a derisive snort from Hornet across the bridge.

 

"Enough,” Crofte interjected. "She is here under my orders. I brought her for a reason.”

 

Natalie continued regardless. "What would you have me do Gharen? Crawl on my knees? Weep? Beg for forgiveness?" She shook her head.”I did not foresee the way things would turn out." Her eyes narrowed, unwavering. “But I don't regret my motivations for doing them."

 

"That does not make you not accountable for what happened." Hornet said darkly.

 

Roen stared at Natalie. "Do you regret anything?"

 

"I regret not burning those papers when I was given them." Natalie turned her gaze back to Roen, her voice cold. "If I had, we wouldn't be having this discussion."

 

"That will do, Ser Mcbeef." Crofte turned to her companion, giving her a look of warning.

 

"So you do not regret anything else." Roen persisted. She had to know.

 

"Ye did nae bother to think about yer actions an' the effects they would have on others. Miss McBeef. Don' ferget tha'."

 

Crofte raised her voice along with everyone else. "The actions of my companion are in the past now. I understand the pain they have caused and that such things will not be so easily healed. That is not the reason she is here now. I brought her so that Ser Deneith may see the wisdom of my previous council."

 

Natalie only spared Crofte a moment’s glance before she continued. "I was blackmailed, with Roen's life as hostage. And you Gharen, you willingly went along with my plan. Do I regret hiring Askier to do it, he and that madman of his? Yes." She gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing at Gharen. “But I'm not prescient, I did the best I could with what I had and I don't regret that one gods damn bit."

 

Natalie then spun back to Roen, pointing a finger at her. "You're alive! Instead of dying as a pawn in some political game."

 

A flash of anger heated her cheeks. Roen’s own voice shook, as she stepped around Gharen onto the bridge. "So you would do that again. Trade his life, for mine."

 

"He traded his life,” Natalie retorted. "Not me. He could have walked away from that pier.”

 

Roen shook her head, her fist clenched by her side. “No. You. You made him the offer. You knew he would take it! Of course he would!”

 

"The Syndicate made me an offer." Natalie’s countenance remained steadfast and unmoved. “Of course, I did.”

 

Roen shook her head. "You were there. You were there when I got him back. You... you saw how I was. You comforted me!" She felt herself shaking. “How could you possibly think that I could simply continue?" Her face twisted with bitterness, all the anger she bore the Miqo’te woman rising to the fore. "I trusted you. Not with just my life, with everything."

 

Natalie slowly nodded. "And I bought your life... with that trust." She met Roen’s gaze without flinching. "I consider it well spent."

 

"Are you waiting for a 'Thank you', McBeef?" Hornet sneered as she stepped up behind the two Sultansworns on the bridge, one hand resting around her axe that hung behind her..

 

"No. It was a selfish act." Natalie glanced over her shoulder, although not seemingly alarmed by the Roegadyn’s approach.

 

"You bought it with suffering. And my trust and..." Roen felt a tear escape her eyes unbidden and hated herself for it. She stormed onto the bridge and approached the Miqo’te Sworn, her stride quick and fueled with fury.

 

Natalie stiffened. "I couldn't let them kill you Roen. … I just couldn’t.”

 

Roen stopped a fulm width from her, her stare full of indignation and shame.  "Do you know... what he did to me?" She let out a guttural whisper. "There are days... I wish … I wish I had died. That I do not have this weight upon my chest. This dread looming over me. This … hatred… for man already dead.”

 

"Feel free to hate me instead then." Natalie met her gaze and did not look away. "If that will help. Gods know I deserve it.”

 

Roen stepped back once, a trembling hand rising to her forehead. Too much emotions were rising all at once. She did not want this.

 

"An still, ye lack humility," Gharen growled, also stepping onto the roped bridge.

 

"I didn't come here for forgiveness!" Natalie looked past Roen to Gharen. "I came to give her the truth."

 

Crofte came to stand between Natalie and Roen, the woman’s green eyes peering into the heavy hood to seek Roen’s. “Ser Deneith,” she said quietly. “She may not know, but I do. Please, you do not need to do this.”

 

Roen looked back up, but her eyes inevitably were drawn back to Natalie. “I clung onto life. To survive. To return to those I loved. You were one of them. But it is because of you that I was on that boat. And possibly would have returned to a dead brother."

 

"All true,” Natalie said grimly.

 

"You should have let them kill me,” Roen hissed.

 

"I couldn't." Natalie shook her head. "No more than Gharen could walk off that pier."

 

“Do not compare yourself to--” She stopped, then snarled, “You are not my family. You are no longer my sister!”

 

"Enough. Gharen!" Hornet stepped up behind Crofte, calling out.

 

Natalie finally broke her gaze and looked away, releasing a shuddering breath. “Aye," she said softly, "I’m not.” She frowned. “I am just a messenger.”

 

Gharen stepped up behind Roen and placed his hand on her shaking shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

 

"No, I am the messenger,” Crofte insisted. “Ser Deneith, please. I know your ire burns, but you must focus." She stepped closer to Roen. "Look at me, please." She bent slightly to peer into the fall of the heavy hood. "Look... at... me.”

 

When Roen’s eyes finally rose to meet Crofte's, they were glistening and bloodshot. “You remember what I told you in Vesper Bay? I ordered her to be here with me to prove that point." She gave a sidelong glance to Natalie who had now turned her back on them to look out over the ropes. "There is a reason she is wearing those colors this day. You may not like it. I'm not even sure I do. But the Captain has returned her status to the Order."

 

When Roen stared at Crofte with some disbelief, the Sworn continued. "She provided much needed assistance to the people of Ul'dah during a crisis. I know that means nothing here, and I do not expect it to carry weight. But title has once again changed. Do you understand?"

 

"Aye, an t'was my sister an' I tha' assisted in getting th' device that removed th' collar from yer neck." Gharen did not remove his hands from Roen’s shoulder, as if to give her support, even as he spoke to Crofte.

 

"I figured as much. You all know I was there by now." The Highlander turned her attention back to Roen. "Please, Ser Deneith... you must allow the system to work. I can clear you of these charges, officially. No more hiding, no more lurking in shadows. No more cover ups."

[Roen]

Roen's anger had begun to slowly ebb away as she focused on what Crofte was saying. Those were the very hopes she had harbored since she had spoken to the Sworn last, and now Crofte was giving them voice. But that was when Natalie spun around again, after tossing her beret off the bridge into the gully.

 

"The fuck do you want from me, Roen. My life? Take it," she growled. “An apology? Sure. I can whip one up in no time at a--"

 

Roen had no time to react as Gharen stepped up and popped Natalie on the nose. The Miqo’te staggered and fell back against the ropes, her nose bleeding.

 

Natalie rubbed at her nose and laughed. “Is this what you want Roen? For me to feel what you felt?” She rose again to her feet. “Keep going if that's the case."

 

“Enough!” Hornet roared. "Gharen, Roen, go home."

 

"Please!" Crofte stepped in front of Natalie, putting herself between the Miqo’te and the rest.

 

Roen heard none of their pleas. She stepped up next to Gharen, a hand going her brother’s arm to stay any further violence. "No. I do not want your blood on anyone's hands. Why do you think I gave those papers to Crofte? She said she could help more than just me."

 

Natalie blinked surprised, looking from Roen to the Highlander Sworn. “Crofte…? Who else?”

 

Roen did not wait for Crofte to answer as she stepped closer to Natalie, nearly shoving past the Sultansworn in her way. “What I want is some regret in your eyes. Some acknowledgement of the mistake you made. That you betrayed EVERYTHING I gave you. My love. My trust. My faith in you. You destroyed all of that.”

 

Natalie blinked, then closed her eyes. "That's why I can't regret. So much was sacrificed. So much." She hung her head low. "And for what? If I regret it all... it means all that, gone." Her voice lowered to a whisper. “For a mistake." She was trembling. “And I can’t say that. I can’t say everything was destroyed… for nothing.”

 

Seeing Natalie’s sorrow only fueled hers more. “A part of me died on that boat. Do you know that?” Roen could not stop, and neither did her tears for all of her pain. “Do you know how... how Askier screamed? The pain he was in." She felt herself starting to shake again.

 

"And yet, and yet I asked him to live," Roen continued. She swallowed, trying to dismiss the constriction in her throat as her voice rose. “And every time he screamed, I knew ... I knew I was not alone on that boat. Do you know what that is like?!”  She screamed with all her rage at Natalie, her eyes wide, her voice hoarse. “To be both tormented and relieved by someone else’s agony??”

 

"Ser Deneith... Please!" Crofte pleaded.

 

Natalie met her eyes, darkness creeping into her green Miqo’te gaze. "I can't even imagine." She uttered slowly shaking her head. "That's why... I have to believe it was for something. That some good came of it. Otherwise it's... it's too much."

 

Hornet came up behind Roen and put a hand on her shoulder, but in reliving her shame and guilt, the unexpected touch made her flinch. She spun away, stepping to grip the ropes on the other side of the bridge. She stared at her white knuckles.

 

"Roen..." Natalie called out from behind her. “Did Crofte tell you those papers would help Kage.... and myself?"

 

"This meeting should be ended." Hornet growled.

 

"Natalie. Enough with that for now." Crofte ordered.

 

"My sister will not be returning te Ul'dah, yers is a city that does nae wish te be saved.” Gharen rumbled.

 

"I need to know." Natalie was insistent. “Roen. Who did Crofte tell you the papers would help?”

 

Roen felt her breathes come and go, and with each exhale her grip on the ropes loosened just a little. She had come here to meet with Crofte with hope. She was trying hard to remember it now.

 

“Who Roen?”

 

She straightened as she released the ropes, taking another long inhale of the sea air. She turned when she felt that she had regained some composure even though her voice still sounded ragged. “She hoped it would clear all those that it damned." She lifted her eyes towards the Highlander Sworn. "Is that still your hope... Ser Crofte...?"

 

"Aye, it is, and always has been."

 

Natalie nearly staggered. "You risked yourself..." she murmured, turning away. “For…”

 

"You shut up." Hornet warned.

 

"I need to go,” Natalie choked out as she shoved past Hornet. Roen did not notice when Hornet turned as well and followed her off the bridge.

 

Ser Crofte stepped forward, her voice soft and her gaze imploring. "You need not relive those events every night."

 

"When does it go away...?"

 

"When you chose to allow it, Ser Deneith." The Highlander Sworn bowed her head slightly, locking gaze with her. "For three years... three years I was forced to serve. All manner of... clients. If I refused, I suffered close to the same fate as you."

 

Roen blinked, staring at the woman.

 

"You must not allow it to change you," Crofte said softly. "It is over. Do you understand? It is over, and you survived. Do not make your survival count for naught..." She inhaled. “If you need to talk about it more, I will listen. But that is not why I am here tonight... you understand that?"

 

Roen bowed her head and nodded. "How certain are you...?" Quiet words that held but mere threads of hope, they emerged quietly from beneath the hood. "That you can clear me of these charges."

 

"More certain every day.”

 

"If you do not bring me in... is what Natalie said true? There will be others?"

 

Crofte swallowed, her brows furrowing. "Aye, she speaks true. My... our hands have been forced. To my chagrin, the Captain has made us partners in this matter now. Though I retain rank over Ser Mcbeef. We need your testimony as well, of course, the accused has the right to speak her own defense... but you cannot do so here. The accusations of this man, Cicero. They were used to damn all three of you. If we can acquit you, the other two must be as well by association, as he accused all three for the incident at the mines." She glanced to Gharen who was now glaring at her before she continued. "The only matter I am unsure of is that of your brother."

 

"I do nae care how Ul'dah regards me Miss Crofte.” Gharen crossed his arms, stepping up close behind Roen. “An' regardless o' how yer captain thinks I don' think it wise fer my sister te turn herself in. Th' sworn have shown themselves te be corruptible in th' face o' th' syndicate before."

 

Roen stared off the bridge to the ravine below, her thoughts whirling. She had been pondering these possibilities for many nights now. “If... I am acquitted... then perhaps all implicated would be as well. Including my brother. Lilliana tracked us all, when I was meeting with the Resistance. She said she had no interest in arresting any of them."

 

“Then you have even more to hope for, aye?" Crofte sounded hopeful, looking from Gharen to Roen.

 

A long silence fell between them. A gust of wind tossed her cloak this way and that about her as Roen stood stalk-still, her thoughts lost to possibilities. She had not shared with Gharen what she had been pondering, for she knew he would not like it. And despite the angry exchange with Natalie, it had not wavered the decision Roen silently made before arriving at the lighthouse.

 

"As I have always said..." Crofte broke the silence. "You have time to consider the options."

 

"But next time it may not be you."

 

"Aye, and I would prefer this be resolved tonight... this is not my choice to make."

 

Roen bowed her head and she could feel Gharen’s eyes upon her even without looking up. She spoke quietly. “Gharen. I know you do not want me doing this.” She turned and drew her hood back, looking at him fully. “I do not want to be a fugitive. I do not want you to be a fugitive."

 

"Yer right I don'." He said quietly to her, his jaw set. He casted a look towards Crofte who was retreating off the bridge. "I believe ye te be an honorable woman an tha' ye'll hold te yer word.”

 

The Sultansworn turned at the end of the bridge just as she watched Hornet return, passing her. "Ser Wolfsong, my life is forfeit if I do otherwise."

 

"More'n yer life is forfeit if'n ye fail. Ul'dah is a city tha' does nae with te be saved, an if'n they wish te regard me as a terrorist the'll see jus' what kind o' a holy terror I can be if'n ye fail.”

 

“Gharen,” Roen looked up at her brother, her eyes lucid and focused, having shed the fury and the shame that raged in them before. She waited until Gharen turned his eyes back to her, and she sensed his reluctance. As if he knew what she was going to say. And he did not want to hear it.

 

She said it anyway. “I am turning myself in.”

[Roen]

"No." Hornet said immediately, staring at her. "Roen..."

 

Roen continued to stare at Gharen as if to press her point. “I do not want to be a fugitive. I do not want you to be a fugitive.” She reiterated, this time, there was determination that fueled her words. “I do not want Kage to be a Blade. I do not want them hunting you or Hornet to get to me.”

 

"Goin' with them will put ye in close te' th' syndicate lass.” Gharen met her gaze, his jaw drawn tight.

 

"They wanted you, Gharen. Not me."

 

"Aye, an used ye te get te me."

 

"Then you need to make certain that, that does not happen again." Roen frowned. "I cannot let this be for naught." She glanced over her shoulder towards Ser Crofte, and Natalie who had now come to join her. “I need him cleared.”

 

"Roen… that will be complicated." Natalie chimed in, astonishment clear in her expression. “Far more complicated than your own case.”

 

"Complicated, yes, but not impossible, Ser Mcbeef.” Crofte nodded to Roen then to Natalie. “We must try."

 

“Very well,” Natalie narrowed her eyes. “I will take Gharen’s case.” When she saw all eyes turned to her, the Miqo’te Sworn continued, not wavering. “Ser Crofte can focus on Roen’s case, while I work to clear Gharen. One of the strongest charges against Roen is consorting with a terrorist. If Gharen can be cleared, Roen’s case might go a lot easier.”

 

“Besides…” Natalie added under her breath. “Me working with Roen, is not a good idea.” She averted her eyes from those on the bridge.

 

Crofte nodded. "Aye, and you know more of the events personally than I." She looked back to Roen, breathing a sigh of relief. "Not only that, I will be spending time watching over our guest."

 

Roen turned to Hornet, spying the consternation on the taller woman’s face. "Please do not tell me I am making a mistake."

 

"Roen…” Hornet struggled for a response. "I... I'll take care of him," was all she managed.

 

Roen exhaled and nodded. “Aye.”

 

"Every part o' me says this is a bad idea."

 

"I know.” Roen found herself strangely calmer by the minute. She had something to focus on now. Clearing herself and her brother. It was a purpose. “But I feel it is something I need to do. Too many. Too many have been hurt because of this. I need to put an end to it. I will not have it haunt me or anyone else for the rest of our lives."

 

"It's always been your decision Roen,” Hornet said softly. She slipped down to her knees, embracing her tight.

 

"You will take care of him, aye?" Roen said quietly to Hornet.

 

"I promise." Hornet nodded as she rose again. "If they let me, I'll visit."  

 

Roen searched Gharen’s eyes. "I am going to put my fate in their hands. No matter what the decision, Gharen. Do not let them use me to get you."

 

Gharen’s neck muscles tightened slightly. "I cannae promise that, an' ye know it."

 

She frowned, her eyes locking onto his. "Please." She pleaded. “Promise.”

 

The siblings looked to each other in a silent struggle, before he exhaled and took her in his arms. "Ye win. We'll see what Nymeia has in store fer us."

 

Roen rested her cheek against his chest. "Aye."

 

She couldn't see Gharen's scowl. She heard it in his voice. "Lets get this o'er with 'fore I change my mind and do somethin' rash."

[111]

Natalie sighed and arranged the papers on her table for the umpteenth time. The Bismark had a beautiful view, but the sea breezes made a mockery of her attempts to keep things organized. She had stolen the salt shakers from every table within reach, and it was barely enough to keep the papers from flapping out into the ocean with every gust. Satisfied that, for the moment, the papers would behave, she yawns, stretching out the last of the discomfort from the airship ride. Nibbling on a scone and sipping on a bowl of coffee she scans the area, Gharen should be here any moment… if he decided to actually show.

 

Gharen walked onto the balcony of the Bismarck the weather was nice this day, given the occasional gust of coastal winds. He saw Natalie across the way looking bored. Grimacing as he saw her, he walked over to the woman’s table and took note at the absurd sight of a dozen or so salt shakers on the table. “Expect’n te be attacked by some sort o’ sea slug?” he mused, though he didn’t smile. He placed his hand on the back of the chair opposite of Natalie though he did not sit down right away as he regarded her.

 

She blinks, “ah, Gharen,” she scratches the back of her head, “No it’s these damnable winds.” She frowns and shakes a fist at the heavens, “Why couldn’t they have built a city someplace proper, where the elements cooperate.” She notices him standing there, “Please, sit sit.” She smirks, “If I wanted to harm you there’d be easier ways.” Showing her empty hands, “Today I come in peace for once.”

 

Gharen pulls out the seat and sits down at the table, he is wearing the same white cotton and leather attire he was the day they met on the pier, and does not appear to be armed as well. He plants both of his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together in front of him, “So what did ye wish te speak about?”

 

Natalie waves down a server, who places coffee and pastries in front of Gharen. “Let’s do the pleasantries first, such as they are” She chuckles, “Hopefully you drink coffee.” She takes a sip of her own, “To start with Roen is comfortable, safe and secure in the headquarters of our order.” She forces a smile, “Though I haven’t visited her myself, I wouldn’t want to ruin her vacation. Kage and Crofte have assured me of it though.” She leans back, and arranges her papers once more, “Hopefully that will put your mind, even if only slightly, at ease.”

 

Gharen picked up the cup and took a drink of the freshly brewed coffee, setting it back down he nodded, “Alrigh’.” He decided it better to keep his mouth shut about how he felt about Ul’dah in general these days, and how he truly felt about Roen being incarcerated in the lion’s den regardless of where she was in the city. He looked over the pastries but declined to partake of any. “I’d say ye go see her, regardless how either o’ ye feel. Cannae avoid one another ferever, an’ worst case, ye provoke her inte pop’n ye one, tis a therapeutic feelin’, I can attest te tha’.”

 

Natalie snorts and rubs her nose, still sore despite the conjured healing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who couldn’t smell for three days.” She chuckles, “But you may be right. Worst case scenario is only yet another trip to the clinic.” She exhales, “Well, shall we get to business then? I wish to speak of you Gharen Wolfsong.” Natalie steeples her fingers, “If I’m to represent you effectively, and get the syndicate off your back I’ll need the truth.” She leans back, “If you truly are innocent of what is claimed, then as they say, it shall set you free.”

 

He swung an arm over the back of chair. “I dinnae take ye te be such a fragile flower te need a clinic o’er what amounted te a love tap.” This time there was a grin behind the statement. “Ask away Miss Mcbeef, I am an open book.” he said calmly. The last several moons played out quickly in his head as he regarded her for a moment. None of this had sat with him very well, to begin with, but in the end it had been Roen’s decision, not his, and he was willing to go with on this regardless of how he felt about it.

 

“A love tap?,” she chuckles, “Remind me never to get in a relationship with a Highlander.” Natalie drains her cup before inking her pen, “Let’s start at the beginning then. When we met at the Nanawa mines, you and your compatriots had a cerulean core in your possession. How did you acquire it?”

 

He grins at her statement and almost retorts, but responds to her question matter of factly. “Don’ rightly know. I was told we were te be wait’n fer one Aylard Greyarm, who’s since passed. When I was asked if’n I wanted te know what th’ cargo was, I opted te nae know at all, figured th’ less people tha’ knew th’ better.” He pauses for a moment while she scribbles.

 

“I’d gone back te th’ site after th’ scuffle an’ blast, found fresh footprints lead’n up te th’ site tha’d have fit a Hyur or Miqote, mov’n light an’ quick toward th’ cargo. Though th’ blast an th’ miners try’n te put out th’ fires, wiped out th’ prints in the immediate area, I’d found prints leav’n this time they were slowed weighed down by somethin’ heavy. Dinnae know what was in th’ cargo till Roen came look’n fer me days later.”

 

Natalie taps her pen on the table for a moment as a hostess comes by and refills her glass. “You knew it was probably a dangerous cargo though… hence your precaution of keeping the contents secret. You also seemed prepared for combat when we arrived. Who were you worried about attacking you? Flames? Brass Blades?” She stirs a small amount of cream in, before taking a sip, “Or someone else?”

 

He shakes his head a little, “No one specific at th’ time, though should have been look’n out fer th’ empire, as I understand it, a fella named Cicero, or th’ rose as he was callin’ himself, was th’ one tha’ took th’ core an’ caused th’ explosion.” He pauses. “Aylard was killed by a garlean agent an’ th’ charmin’ fellow ye lobbed off’a th’ stairs was killed soon after.”

 

She nods, “I see…” as she writes some notes. “Your friend tried to kill me first, so I don’t feel terribly guilty about throwing him off that bridge.” She frowns, “Though I didn’t wish his death, it seemed his daughter was with him there at the mines. This would doesn’t need any more orphans.” Sighing and rubbing her forehead for a moment she gathers her thoughts, “So you were given this Cargo, you knew transporting it would be a dangerous task, but you were more worried about the Empire than Ul’dah?” She tilts her head, “In other words, at the time you had no knowledge that your actions could have been in violation of Ul’dah laws?”

 

Shakes his head again. “None. Granted, anythin’ done under th’ cover o’ night is likely somethin’ ye want kept from th’ pryin’ eyes o’ authorities. Given tha’ th’ ultimate goal at th’ time was te return te Gyr Abania, I think it’s safe te assume th’ core was goin’ te be used against th’ empire. While I cannae say Ul’dah has nae exactly been a good home fer Ala Mhigans, certainly wouldn’t do well te go an use tha’ kind o’ hardware on th’ one place that’s been even mildly acceptin’.” He plants his chin in the palm of his hand with his elbow resting on the table as he watches her reaction.

 

Natalie crosses her arms and closes her eyes, she sits and thinks for a moment before responding with a grin. “I can work with this…” she takes a sip of her coffee, “The brave freedom fighter and hater of Garleans, Gharen Wolfsong, tricked into taking on an illegal core.” She nods, “His only crime was being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, left by despicable agents of Garlemald to take the fall for their own nefarious acts of subterfuge.” She leans back, “So, think they’ll buy it?”

 

He thinks for a moment. “Mayhaps, but I was nae tricked inte bein’ there tha’ night.” My Grandmother was an important figure in th’ early days o’ th’ resistance fer Ala Mhigo. Or so I was told. Fer tha’ my mother who was in hidin’ at th’ time was found an’ killed, along with’ th’ rest o’ Kayle an’ I’s family.” He gives her a moment to let that sink in. “Aylard was hop’n tha’ a survivor from th’ old Noble bloodlines would be able te rally th’ resistance, an bolster th’ ranks. Ultimately I jus’ wanted te learn more about th’ family I ne’er got te know.”

 

Natalie tilts her head, “If you knew exactly what was going on that night, the nature of the cargo to be transported, and its origin, would you have still gone along with it?” She holds up a hand, “You weren’t lied to, but you also weren’t told the whole story. Your patriotism and interest in your family was used to blind you to the truth of what you were doing. I’d call that trickery.”

 

He regards the smaller woman for a moment as he takes a breath. “Mayhaps. But I did know th’ cargo was likely goin’ te be illegal. An’ admittedly if I had known exactly what it was, an how it was procured, I’d have had issues if Innocents were harmed in so doin’ but if nae? I’d likely have still been there. Remove’n th empire from Eorzea’s doorstep would nae only help my people. But tha’ o’ Ul’dah an her allies.” He adjusts his weight in his seat. “As much as I want te see my sister cleared o’ charges I won’ sugarcoat things or lie about my actions te do it. I don’ see what she or I have done te have ever been against th’ interests o’ th’ people o’ Ul’dah.”

 

Natalie sighs, “I think what we have here is a cultural gap. What you just said would sound ridiculous to any citizen of the city.” She looks off into the sea, “How to explain it… I’m sure you’ll agree that a cerulean core is an item of great value. The core that was stolen might have gone on to be the power source of an airship, or the engine on one of Ul’dah’s mining trains. It represents a huge investment, taking vast amounts of resources, manpower, and expertise to create. In other word, it was very expensive.” She takes a coin from her purse and places it on the table, “Despite Nanamo’s efforts refugees die every day outside the wall, they die because they lack coin. When people say coin is the lifeblood of Ul’dah, it is no exaggeration, everything in the city is bought with it, including life itself. The problem of the refugees is simply a lack of coin, and thus, they die.” She leans back, and spins the coin on the tabletop, “Even if no one was directly hurt, in Ul’dah we know better than anyone the power of money. That money was taken from someone, somewhere, possibly even from the refugees that crowd the walls. The idea that something so valuable could be taken without some harm being done, would seem hopelessly naive to us.”

 

“I may live in th’ wilds Miss Mcbeef, but I am no fool. I lived in those refugee camps and in th’ cave’s o’ little Ala Mhigo fer twelve cycles.” He reaches to the collar of his tunic and pulls it down revealing what appears to be deep scars and burns. He lets her take that in for a moment before he lets go “I’ve experienced what Ul’dah has done te my people first hand. Mayhaps there is a cultural gap, but what will cost Uldah more in’ th’ long run? A stolen ceruleum core? or th’ refugees that flood inte th’ city even te this day. Where will Ul’dah’s wealth be when th’ empire is th’ one knockin’ on th’ gates Miss Mcbeef? I understand tha’ someone’s pocket book is lighter as a result but ye’ll have te forgive my simple view o’ th’ world.”

 

Natalie chuckles, “I think you took my words the wrong way. I am not even saying you’re wrong, there is much you say that I agree with.” She pockets the coin, “It is not me who needs to be convinced however. You live close to the conflict, it affects you, and you understand the threat that Garlemald still poses.” She shrugs, “But to most in the city, the war is over, we’ve finally gotten our much deserved peace, time to to rebuild, and profit in the process. To those people, many of whom are in power, using a cerulean core in such a way is at best a waste of resources on a reckless gamble, resources that could be spent better elsewhere.” She narrows her eyes, “At worse it would be the provocation that would renew hostilities with Garlemald, and if those people in power view it in such a way, things would go very badly for you, and anyone involved in it, including your sister.” She sighs, “I understand the plight of your people Gharen, but Ul’dah is not under occupation, we’ve fought this war for decades, and we finally have respite. It may be cowardly of us, but the last thing the city wants is a renewal of hostilities.”

 

He promptly gives his response “Did tha’ stolen core nae get turned inte a weapon te be used against Ul’dah -by- garleans? An’ more recently collared citizens turned against th’ city, it’s wells poisoned? Hostilities have ne’er subsided Miss Mcbeef, Ul’dah is nae at peace much as th’ rich would like te believe. Th’ war might be o’er but yer city is still in their sights.” He shakes his head slightly. “I understand th’ opposin’ viewpoint, but tis a fallacy at best a lie told te make th’ people feel safer at night.” He stops for a moment. “Evil will do as it pleases, as long as good men an’ women do nothin’.”

 

Natalie groans, “Gharen, as I said, I’m not the one you have to convince. I’m just trying to let you know how your words will be taken. Specifically, how they will be taken by those who will decide the fate of you, and your sister.” She taps the scars on her own face, “I know as well as you that the war isn’t over, but convincing people to spend coin and blood on a enemy that seems defeated is political suicide in the city.” She gestures to the papers on the table, “We need a story that will convince those people, your words, while passionate, are wasted on those whose minds are already made up.”

 

He nods. “As I said I understand how they will be taken, these are simply th’ truth’s behind th’ matter. But enough debate then. What do ye propose then Miss Mcbeef?”

 

“You don’t wish to lie, fair enough, but we also don’t need to tell them the whole truth.” She taps her fingers on the table, “We’ll keep all the business with the Garleans, your lack of knowledge of the cargo.” She sighs, “But can we keep out the fact that, even if you’d have known, you would have done it anyway?”

 

He gives it a moment of thought. “Alrigh’.” The puts both elbows back on the table and interlaces his fingers before him. “Anythin’ else I should keep te myself?”

 

Natalie nods, “Thank you,” before chuckling. “I don’t know, but I’ll tell you if I think of anything.” She grins, “But I think instead there are things we can add to the account. Like that Castrum raid I heard you were involved with. Technically it has nothing to do with the core, but as the city gives a sigh of relief after Jin’li’s attacks, it would be very unpopular for the Syndicate to demonize one of its saviors.” She re-inks her pen and poises it over a fresh page, “What can you tell me of the event?”

 

Gharen points to seat just a couple of tables over. “I was contacted by Osric Melkire right o’er there, once he got my attention he passed notes indicating tha’ he’d like my help. Well, he helped locate Roen in th’ first place.” He gives Natalie a icy look for a heartbeat and continues. “So how could I refuse? I spoke with Askier at th’ red wings headquarters an’ miraculously dinnae kill him by th’ time I left.” He takes a deep breath. “Few suns later Roen, Delial an’ I along with others were dressed in stolen Garlean uniforms an entered castrum occidens, we were discovered, some fight’n broke out I held th’ rear guard while others retrieved th’ tool required.” Taking a breath he continues to recount the events afterward. “We gathered in Drybone where we encountered th’ white haired Miqote with th’ gunblade Jin’li, Some folks were wounded, Roen took te healin, I uncovered Crofte there as well. After a short exchange I let her go after lettin’ her know, quietly tha’ we had th’ tool.”

 

Natalie nods, “Gharen, feeling remorse at how he had unknowingly wronged Ul’dah set off to redeem himself in it’s moment of crisis. At great risk, and at no profit to himself he set off on a daring raid to free Ul’dah’s defenders of their collars.” She grins and writes, “Perhaps I could have Ser Crofte give a tear filled speech describing her experience under Jin’li’s yoke. I think that would be quite moving.”

 

He cocks an eyebrow at just how ridiculous what Natalie just said sounds. “..Aye, if’n ye think so. Don’ expect me te be turn’n on th’ water works though.” He wraps his hands around the somewhat still warm cup of coffee. “Was there anythin’ else ye’d like te cover?” Gharen downs the remainder of his coffee, and sets the cup down, again interlacing his fingers in front of him on the table.

 

Natalie laughs, “No no, as you’ve made quite clear, this will have to be managed without your presence at the city. Either way your tears probably wouldn’t help this case.” She takes a sip of her coffee, “I’m thinking we’ll go more of the misguided yet noble savage angle. Should sit well with the audience. You couldn’t help that you aren’t as wise and all knowing as the great and civilized merchants of the city.” She winks at him, “stroking the ego of the Syndicate generally works wonders.” Natalie ponders his question for a moment, “Nothing that directly comes to mind… but is there anything you’d like to add?” She chuckles, “Anything helpful I should say. I’m sure a message to the syndicate saying “Go fuck yourselves.” Is something you’d enjoy, though I doubt it would help your case.”

 

Again the eyebrow gets raised he was fairly certain she’d just managed to insult him on the sly. He opted not to take the bait if that’s what it was. He shakes his head slightly. “Nothin’ tha’ I can think o’ tha’ pertains te Ul’dah. Far as th’ Syndicate is concerned I figure if they decide te toy with my family again I may nae be quite so passive in my response te them. But those are jus’ -what if’s- right now.” He offers Natalie a slight grin. “Give my regards te Miss Crofte aye?”

 

She nods, and begins gathering up her papers, “I will… but just warning you, she seems quite infatuated with another gentleman at the moment. If that’s what you’re after.” She chuckles, “Though you seem the type who wouldn’t admit it if you were.” As she leaves a few coins on the table, “I’ll let you know if I have any further questions, and don’t hesitate to contact me if you have anything to add.” She grins, “For example that last threat of violence against the Syndicate would probably not fall into the ‘helpful’ category.”

 

“Regard’n’ Miss Crofte, no intentions there Miss Mcbeef.” He stands up as well and pushes his chair in. “An I would ne’er levy threats o’ bodily harm against such upstand’n citizenry as th’ Syndicate.” He offered her a wry grin that clearly outlined the sarcasm in his tone. “Stay safe Miss Mcbeef, an until we next meet.”

 

She laughs, “I’ll do my best, and thank you Gharen.” She places the papers into a satchel, “This could help more than you know. Until next time.” She walks off towards the direction of the airship docks.

[Roen]

Roen stared up at the dark stony ceiling of her cell, one arm draped over her head. The room was dimly lit, and it reflected her thoughts.

 

How many suns has it been since she'd turned herself in? A week? Suns were already starting to blend into each other. At least she had the singular window in her cell to mark the passage of days; that and the vase of wildflowers that Ser Crofte had brought lent a little brightness to her small cell. A blanket and pillows, parchment to write with, a lamp to lend extra light... all small comforts afforded by the Sultansworn to try and make her incarceration somewhat bearable.

 

It was barely that. The small walled cell sometimes felt as though it encased her like a vise. Askier had noted it within seconds of entering her cell. It took her a few bells, before the dark walls started to feel closer and the room lacking air. When had she become claustrophobic?

 

It was that cursed boat, she thought bitterly.

 

Roen took to her meditations like bee to honey. She had meditated most suns for bells on end, to try and clear her thoughts, to dismiss that heaviness that wanted to crush her chest and shatter her composure. Numerous visitors had brought comfort and welcomed distraction too. Hornet had brought her things from Noscea, just personal trinkets and changes in clothing. But she too immediately felt uncomfortable standing within the prison. Her obvious disgust for the place was worn plainly on the Roegadyn's face.

 

Verad Bellveil, however, brought something Roen did not expect. A gift of levity. He charged in with falsified papers demanding to be put in the gaols, only to be refused. He shared his not-so-sane plan with Roen after the fact, that he had hoped to break her out from within. But the Sworn's refusal to arrest the man on fabricated charges foiled it, and for that Roen was grateful. And... perhaps amused. Their talks were always something that lent brightness to her day and left her with a small, lingering smile. The eccentric elezen seemed to have a special talent for it where she was concerned. He departed with a promise to send her a copy of his highly scandalous memoir to pass the time.

 

Then there was Askier. With the golden-eyed Miqo'te, there was always that sense of stark honesty between them, because they both knew the truth of what had happened aboard that boat, and the darkness they had suffered there. It brought about bouts of sadness, but also a measure of freedom in their honesty towards each other. He whispered his promise, but also slipped her a ceruleum grenade hidden in his sleeve, in their farewell.

 

If she had been quicker in thought, Roen would have gotten Kage to smuggle it back out when he visited her next. But so excited was she when she recalled that the smuggler named Shaelen could potentially clear Gharen of the involvement in the ceruleum theft, that she had completely forgotten about the grenade she had hastily shoved under her pillow.

 

And she dared not share it with Crofte, who may have been duty bound to report it. She could share it with no Sworn. Not even Natalie, who had recklessly stolen Roen from of her cell by sneaking in a courtesan who uncannily bore a face that could have belonged to her sister, all just for an hour's lunch.

 

But the grenade was still in her keeping. Hidden, rolled up in a tunic in her sack, but still there, so she was immediately grateful when Delial unexpectedly came to visit. The woman was obviously not pleased with her decision or her situation, but did not press the issue for long. Instead, Roen asked her to sneak out a special package that Askier had left with her, and the Highlander woman immediately understood.

 

Only after the grenade was disposed of did Roen confess it to Crofte, along with the courtesan who came for a visit. The Sultansworn seemed to gain new lines above her brows with the news, but she bore it stoically.

 

But after the events of today, Roen began to see genuine concern and perhaps even doubt in the Sworn's eyes.

 

Roen frowned as she still felt some lingering aftereffects of the somnus she nearly overdosed on. She was told a potent dose had been hidden in the sweet water that Kage had brought her. She did not recall all of the events clearly, but knew that there was a surprise search of her room while she was trying to stay conscious, and vials of Garlean made aether poison, as declared by the heavily armored Sworn who conducted the search, were discovered hidden in her pillow case. Crofte immediately argued that it was planted, but Roen could not remember any other visitors. She wondered how long she had been asleep after her drugged state.

 

Immediate suspicion fell to the Sworn who conducted the search; Ser Besten was his name, and he proclaimed that his orders came from his superior. He also then implied that his superior had Monetarist ties and knew Taeros.

 

This all seemed to fall back to Taeros, the Monetarists investigator that started the Mines inquiry in the first place; the same man with ties to the Garlean woman, Banurein. Roen frowned, trying to make sense of things. He had his own motivations, as Gharen noted, but none seemed to know what they were.

 

But if he was working for Banurein, one constant had been that the mysterious Garlean woman had wanted Roen to return home to Garlemald. But with this potentially fatal dose of somnus in her waterskin, that no longer seemed to be her agenda. What had changed?

 

The fact that Kiht had known this Banurein woman for a long time came as a complete surprise. Her longtime Moon Keeper friend had come for a visit, and just in time, to discover Roen's groggy, drugged state. Once again, Roen owed her a debt, for with her help, along with that of Ser Crofte and Natalie, the antidote was administered in time and only thing Roen suffered now was a bit of a headache and some hazy memory of the last few bells. But that mattered not to Kiht. The sorrow and guilt she bore on her face when she confessed of the knowledge of the Garlean woman had taken Roen aback. Of all people, she would have never guessed that Kiht would have been in contact with the woman who captured and tortured her brother.

 

Banurein was also likely responsible for getting Natalie, Kage and herself suspended from the Order. And even blackmailing Natalie into luring out Gharen. Now things were starting to make sense. Why would the Syndicate really care for her brother? For a few destroyed properties? For gil? Nay. Banurein wanted him back. This Delial warned her and Gharen. And she used Taeros to bait him back out.

 

Perhaps this somnus was also a trap then. Roen knew, if she had overdosed on somnus, possibly died within the gaols, the news would reach her brother. It would bring him back to Ul’Dah, looking for retribution. It may even rekindle that rage within him that Roen knew he had worked so hard to calm--a rage that Banurein wanted to unleash for unfathomable reasons.

 

Roen clenched her fists. She was tired. She was tired of being beaten. Kidnapped. Poisoned. Tired of being used as a lure for her brother. She was tired of the sleepless nights. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of feeling so helpless. She had turned herself in to the Sultansworns with hope finding a new bloom in her heart. But now laying here, that delicate bloom was threatening to wither. Had she made a mistake? Was she wrong to trust Ser Crofte and the system she so stoutly represented? She could not say.

 

Roen closed her eyes. At least her brother was safe, and Hornet too. But sitting here in the gaols, it made her an easy pawn still. Of this Gharen warned her. He had promised her not to let them use her, but … she was starting to have doubts about his resolve after seeing their methods.

 

She sat up straight in her bed, a new resolve set in her narrowed eyes. Her fate had been given willingly over to the Sultansworns, and she would abide by it. But she would not simply sit here and be bait. A pawn. A victim. There were still pieces to this puzzle that did not quite fit, but she had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that there was a missing a key, and she just needed to figure out what it was.

 

Roen took a deep breath in, but rather than taking her seated meditative pose, she stood and began to practice her forms--the ones Qaeli had taught her in those final days of her escape in Noscea. She no longer felt the need to clear her thoughts and calm her mind. She needed to get ready for whatever was coming.

[Coatleque]

Coatleque stood casually in the Ruby Exchange, fanning herself from the heat. She was thankful to not be on duty today. And even though she had a reprieve from her uniform, the heavy dress she wore in its place trapped just as much heat against her. The sun was just now setting. She hoped for at least some reprieve soon.

 

A man approached her then, wearing all white as she was. He seemed to recognize her from afar. His shoes fell lightly on the stone road and his feathered hat bobbed with every step. Stopping just before her he bowed courteously.

 

"Ser Crofte.", he said with a smile.

"Master Taeros, I presume.", she replied with her own flourish.

"I received a missive that... you want to take me up on that drink finally."

"Want is not the word I would have used."

"But yes, I believe we should speak.", he said with another smile. "It has been far too long. Captain Jenlyns has told me about you long ago."

"Do not presume that you know me, Master Taeros."

"Forgive my rudeness. I should have made your acquaintance long before today.", he said, his smile never seeming to leave his face. "Come now. Come, come. Let us relax over a drink, hmm? Perhaps the airport lounge?"

"As you would, Ser."

He nodded and turned about. She followed him to the lift as they continued on.

 

"Such a quaint place, this. Quiet. Don't you agree?"

"I do, Ser.", she replied curtly.

He slowly led her across the lounge to the seating area by the bar. Pulling her seat out from the table he turned to her.

"Lady first."

She thanked him as she sat and scooted the chair forward. He moved to the other side of the table and also sat. Folding his hands in front of him, he smiled at her then gestured to the bar tender for two glasses.

"I will have him prepare us my favorite."

"As you see fit, Ser. Though I do not drink usually."

His hand waved her off dismissively. "It is my philosophy that we all need to relax now and then. Our jobs and duties often waste our day."

"Perhaps your job, Master Taeros. Mine is hardly a waste of my time."

He smirked.

"Indeed. Even I would hold your job as loftier than mine. Protecting the life of the Sultana and all."

"And that is why I asked you to meet with me. I assume you trust the life of Her Grace in my hands, Ser?"

 

His hand raised momentarily as if to request pause and she nodded lightly. Jameson arose and walked to the bar. Nodding to the tender he left the required gil and returned with two glasses. One he sent in front of her, the other he set before himself as he retook his seat.

"Thank you.", she said as she swirled the contents of the glass before her.

"Why would I not trust you? Or all of the Sworn for that matter? You all swore the oath to protect our Grace."

"That is my same question to you, Ser. What is your interest in my ward?"

He paused.

"You are full aware that this investigation was given over to me."

"I trust you speak of Deneith."

 

She took a small sip of her drink. It was the most pungent, awful thing she ever tasted. She thought of spitting it back out but instead swallowed and did her best not to show her disgust.

 

"I do. And what is this called?"

"Ah! That.", he remarked with the same smile. "Sandsnake. Made from the venom of sandworms I believe. Potent thing."

"I trust you are not attempting to poison me, Master Taeros. T'would hardly be proper for our first true meeting."

His smile seemed to grow slowly wider still, as if he knew the game she was playing. He lifted his own glass and took a sip, his eyes never leaving her. He returned the glass to the table gently. "Distilled, it brings out a dark but subtle flavor and loses the poison." His hand remained on the glass.

 

"Back to business then. Why was my ward targeted by your thug?"

He arched a brow at her. "My thug?"

"You needn't keep up pretenses, Ser. I know you ordered the inspection. You received my report and did not like it. So you had him return to plant false evidence."

He nodded slowly as she spoke.

"Ah yes. I did get that report. Thank you for the courtesy." He shrugged. "I did spy a Grimsong visiting her dungeon. I merely suggested that they be watched carefully."

Coatleque lightly sipped at her drink once more before returning the glass to the table. "Mm."

"If they took that as to searching the place, well... I think that was cautiously wise, don't you think? Considering Grimsong's history with the girl."

"Searched? Her cell resembled a war zone."

His other brow now raised as well.

"I understood you took over the search."

"The first one, yes. What of the second, after my initial report?"

 

He blinked once. It was the only crack in his otherwise impeccable facade.

"Second?"

"I am not a fool, Master Taeros."

"Perhaps not. I suspect you show indulgence and favoritism to the prisoner."

"I am her advocate. T'is my job to show her favoritism. You were not pleased that it was I who filed the inspection report. Your same man returned and said so himself. That it was his own neck on the line if he failed to deliver the second time."

"... My man. Hm. Yes. Just who was it that inspected the cell?"

"Ser Besten."

He eyed her steadily before reaching for his drink taking an indulgent sip from it. She also lifted her glass, swirling the contents before taking another sip, albeit a slightly larger one than before.

"Besten, I see." He set his drink back down and smiled once more.

"And this Ser Besten said that I sent him?"

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him, looking for any signs of a lie or cover up. He maintained his smile but his eyes were intent. They never lifted the same time his lips did.

"I will not be another pawn in whatever political game you are playing."

"A bit of an obvious power-play, don't you think?"

"Explain?"

"She is clearly your ward. Under your care. But I had every right to voice my concern when a Garlean sympathizer visits an accused Garlean spy. It led to a search, I find that perfectly reasonable. Even Jenlyns could not argue. But after nothing was found? What? I send someone again to search her room? Don't tell me. this time... something was found?"

"Indeed."

"Of course it was."

"I am not questioning your search warrant, Ser. Ser Besten was to make the report to you directly. You did not hear of this?"

He leaned foward towards her.

"Ser Crofte. Let me make this clear. I did not send Ser Besten. Not personally. I voiced to a Sworn that a Garlean sympathizer was visiting a potential spy. That is all."

 

There was a pause. She swirled her glass around on the table once more as she watched the contents lap at the sides of the cup. "So you are also unawares of the attempt on her life?"

He blinked at her once more, though his expression did not change.

"I take it she still lives."

"Thankfully. I arrived in time, as well as Ser Mcbeef. Poisoned. A lethal somnus overdose in her water.", she replied as she took another sip and set the glass down once more.

"Hm."

The man paused, letting the news sink in as he pondered the implications quietly to himself.

"So, you think I tried to kill her."

"I think many things, Master Taeros. The evidence is pointing a certain direction. What I can't seem to figure out though, is why you would want to?"

"Indeed, Ser Crofte. Why would I?", he said as he leaned back. "I am the one that gave Natalie the evidence. If I wanted the girl convicted, why even bother?"

"Aye, after she delivered the girl's brother into your hands."

He shrugged casually.

"A high-value target. One you no longer possess."

"It was at my employer's behest. And it seems he was broken out. Of a Blade prison no less."

"Yes, I heard of that. Nasty business, aye?"

"But guarding a prisoner already caught is not my responsibility."

"Except now you have the only true leverage against him sitting in my care. Just beyond your reach."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Mm. Ah, you see the link do you?"

"As I said. I am no fool, Master Taeros."

"Indeed. Deneith would be a good bait. She always was. For Wolfsong."

 

He smiled at her then his eyes seemd to drift beyond her momentarily. The Knight watched him and suddenly felt as if she was being watched from behind. An uneasy feeling settled over her as she eyed her own drink.

"Ah! Natalie."

 

(tbc)

[Coatleque]

Jameson smiled at Natalie. That same emotionless grin he had been using all night. She returned it to him as best she could. "Oh? Interesting clothes for a business meeting, Ser Crofte." Natalie bowed courteously to Taeros. "Hello again Jameson."

 

"Mm... Indeed.", Coatleque replied flatly. Her stomach was already beginning to churn and she wasn't sure it was from the drink.

 

"Good to finally see you as a Sworn once more.", he remarked.

Natalie laughed. "If only all thought the same."

Jameson gave her an odd sort of grin.

"If only I could keep her in uniform", Coatleque quipped as she noticed the Miqo'te once again wearing her non-issued red and bronze hauberk. "I don't see you wearing plate either Ser.", she snapped back.

 

Coatleque considered retaliating once more. She was off duty after all. No, this was not a battle she cared to fight here and now. She held her tongue and cast her gaze back to Jameson across the table.

 

Natalie continued. "I need to speak to you as well. Should I wait for you to finish with beautiful over there, or should I pull up a chair?"

"But you were never the one for caring what others thought, hm?"

She winked at him. "People believe what I want them to believe."

Jameson tossed glances to both women. "More the merrier.", he said at length. "I suspect you are here for the same reason as she. to tell me I tried to kill your girl? Deneith?"

"Two reasons, actually. Let me handle the first one quickly."

 

With that she walked to the bar and promptly ordered a tankard of ale. Coatleque maintained her eye contact with Jameson as they waited. Her head tilted, she offered him a rather strained smile. He sighed. It was as if the two were feeling the same pain. Natalie returned a few moments later sipping her drink.

 

"As for the second, yes I do have some concerns. I thought we had somewhat of an understanding about Roen."

"We did, and we do, Natalie.", he replied sharply. "I was just reminding Ser Crofte that it was I that gave over the evidence to you, rather than having her arrested in the first place."

Natalie nodded. "Of course."

"She was foolish enough to turn herself in."

"So the inspection... was a political matter?"

"The first inspection, it was my doing. After all, I saw a Garlean sympathizer visiting a potential Garlean spy. No one seemed to be concerned about that but me. Ser Crofte... sent me a report."

"Fair enough, many would have had them detained as well. An inspection seems rather levelhanded of you."

"Then I heard nothing else until today. That there was another search, something found... and an attempt made on her life"

 

Coatleque sat quietly and listened to them go over everything once more. She swirled her drink once more before taking another sip. Natalie tapped her jaw. "A second search which you had nothing to do with?"

 

"I am but a cog in this wheel, Natalie. I play by the rules as much as it will allow me. First inspection, I had full justification. Second... Jenlyns would have been furious with me."

"I sometimes forget, you two go back quite a ways."

"He has been rather... vexed with me of late. It took much work for me to smooth things over again."

"Probably because he thought he was rid of me for good."

Jameson laughed at this notion.

"Imagine his consternation to find I was coming back."

"Indeed. He was vexed with me and yet... could not deny the cure you brought."

Natalie grinned. "You and I are like the scales of Nald'Thal, Jameson. We bring misery and fortune in equal amounts." She turned to her superior. "Ser Crofte, do you have some evidence that Jameson was part of the second inspection?"

 

She looked over to Natalie. "As I told him, the same man returned and said he was ordered to carry out the inspection himself the second time."

"Ser Besten. I should speak to this Sworn."

Natalie removed her beret. "I see no reason why Jameson would lie."

"Nor do I, if I must be honest."

He smiled once more as Natalie chuckled. "Excellent."

"Plus, if he really did want to kill Roen, he wouldn't be so ham-handed about it. Jameson never does any villainy he can't get away with."

"... You give me far too much credit, Natalie."

"Yes, I am sure the two of you are very well acquainted by now."

She laughed. "Well, I don't wear dresses to meet with him. So I imagine you're quite well acquainted as well."

He smiled at Coatleque then turned to regard the Miqo'te. "You should. It is quite flattering on the eye."

Coatleque blinked once and nodded politely towards Taeros, ignoring Natalie's comment.

"I wouldn't even know where to buy one.", she said as she took another drink. "Well... where are we to go from here? Jameson, you're not behind this, but something tells me you're interested in who is."

"Indeed."

 

(tbc)

[Coatleque]

There was another pause in the conversation as the three of them exchanged glances. Or maybe it was simply for dramatic effect as their words began to sink in. Only Coatleque knew for sure, and she wasn't about to break the silence.

 

"Someone is trying to kill your ward, and laying the blame on me. I am not pleased."

"But whom? You had mentioned a former employer to me before. Someone whom I assume was interested in her brother. You lost the target, as we spoke about. I would imagine this employer is not pleased."

"Mm. Well, I am not a very good employee if I divulge my employer's secrets now, am I? I would be out of a job very quickly."

She gazed at him with a slight smirk. "Master Taeros, has it occurred that you already are?"

Natalie tapped her jaw as she chimed in. "There is only room for so many puppet masters in Ul'dah. It's only natural they try to cut each others strings."

 

Jameson took up his glass and took another long sip of the red liquid. He held the glass there as he looked towards Coatleque with narrowing eyes. "Believe me, Ser Crofte, I would know it." He returned the glass to the table.

 

"How was the assassination attempted?"

"A high dose of Somnus was placed into a water skin Roen used. Enough to cause her body to fail."

"Somnus you say?"

Natalie nodded. "A very strong dose. I felt the effects from just a taste."

"Was there not some investigation about a Somnus dealer in Deneith's past? I have done quite the research on her. I've read it in her files."

Natalie nodded in agreement to him. "Though it never got very far. Certainly not far enough that they'd wish to take revenge."

"... Natalie, that investigation was started because someone tried to stab her in the middle of the street in broad daylight. Yes?"

"That..."

He gave her a knowing smile, clearly reading her astonishment.

"I have read her file extensively. Sordid history on that girl."

Coatleque gave him a slight glare at his comment. One he returned with his ever pleasant smile.

 

Natalie cleared her throat. "Ok, so let's level.", she began.

"Roen is Garlean, right? No shock there. Though she is Ala'Mhigan by birth, and was adopted. Apparently her father was some sort of big shot scientist guy and was not pleased that she deserted the empire, and embarrassed his family." She tapped her jaw. "So on one level he wants her back, but on the other level he seems equally happy to just silence her for good. I believe the one who stabbed her was related to her family, but it was never proven. Or if it was I am not privy to the information. While Roen's heritage was secret, it's possible her family was content to just ignore her. But I don't think they can handle the embarrassment of a second Cid." She shook her head. "If Roen is publicly Garlean, and serving Ul'dah, it's possible they'd rather just silence her."

 

Jameson sipped his drink languidly. Coatleque had almost forgotten about hers entirely at this point.

"A plausible theory.", he nodded.

 

"The last thing the Empire needs is for their conscripted soldiers to know they can find a place in Eorzea", she continued as she shrugged him off for now. "Most of them don't want this war any more than we do."

 

Coatleque turned her gaze to Natalie with an almost worried expression. "If that is the case, she will never be safe."

Natalie laughed. "She's a Sultansworn, Crofte. If she wanted to be safe, she picked the wrong job."

The Knight smirked at her comrade. Jameson regarded her over his own drink with a curious glance.

 

"Either way, I think this attack has little to do with local politics. If the Syndicate wanted her dead, a rigged trial would be all it would take." Coatleque turned back to Taeros. "After this night, I am inclined to agree. That still leaves the question, Master Taeros, of who would want to frame you? I doubt the Empire cares about what you do here."

"Indeed. But... given our history, I would be a likely suspect."

Natalie laughed. "Perhaps someone was jealous of your fashion sense?"

He ignored her comment and continued.

"I would like to speak to this Ser Besten."

"Perhaps I should as well, if you would desire my presence. He may speak more freely with another Sworn present. That is, if there are no objections of course." She glanced towards Natalie.

Jameson nodded in agreement. "He is a Sworn. No objections from me. Like I said, more the merrier."

"Well, I'll bow to your authority on if I should come along or not, Ser."

 

She thought for a moment before passing down the order. "I shall handle this, Ser Mcbeef. He and I have already butted heads over his orders. Too many and he may realize something is amiss. Though I shall certainly keep you informed."

Natalie smirked slightly as she bowed in deference. "As you command."

 

Coatleque turned back to Taeros for the moment. "He does report to you, does he not? I am sure you can arrange the meeting?"

"He does not. I know not this Ser Besten personally. I assumed someone was assigned once I voiced my concern."

"It seems there are too many assumptions being made lately. Very well, I shall find him."

"Indeed. I am quite interested to hear what he has to say."

"Well, I'll let you two be alone then. I can understand why Ser Crofte would want to be alone with you in that dress. Well, probably she won't be in it for long." With that, Natalie gave her a quick salute and turned to leave.

"That will do, Ser Mcbeef!"

Taeros laughed as the Knight shook her head slowly.

 

"One must love or hate her, yes?"

"Indeed. I swear I only retain my position so the Captain does not have to deal with her directly."

"Perhaps you may be right in that, Ser Crofte.", he replied as he finished his drink. Her own drink was barly half touched. She pushed the glass further towards the center of the table now.

"I believe our business is concluded for tonight, Master Taeros."

"Alas, I would love to indulge further here, but I must return to business as well."

"Aye, and it has been nigh near twenty and four bells... I have another meeting I must attend. Or a tongue to remove, we shall soon see."

 

They both rose from their seats and bowed in turn. "Has been a pleasure, Ser Crofte."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Ser. Twelve guide you."

[Roen]

Ser Samuel Besten grunted as he rolled out of bed, one hand yanking away the rumpled sheet that was tangled around his legs. A woman's soft moan behind him drew his attention back to the bed, where a naked woman still slept. She seemed to care not that the sheets were pulled away from her bare form, the warm Thalanan summer nights making it almost obligatory of late to shed clothing before bed.

 

And the fact that this was a brothel, well, it was mandatory.

 

Besten grumbled at the thought of donning his armor again. His last ten cycles of service to the Sultanate had left many old wounds, and the scars still ached now and again, especially when troubled thoughts brought tension to his muscles.

 

As he slipped into his undergarments, he spotted a small pouch that had fallen from one of his pockets to the floor. He swiped it up quickly, carefully examining it to make certain nothing had escaped the enclosure. “Half the pouch will allow a few bells before the effect sets in. Emptying the entire pouch should induce seizures and death within minutes.” Those precise instructions were spoken by the one who had placed it in his hands to dispense it.

 

Considering the circumstances, half the pouch was wise, and drugging the Deneith girl was easy enough. So was planting the vials. But he wondered where the vials had come from. He knew of the contents within, and that it was of Garlean make. It was not an easy thing to come by, concentrated aether poison. He’d seen it in Carteneau. It worked quickly and worked in most deadly ways against anyone with aether reserves.

 

But if Deneith was guilty, why go through the means of planting evidence? And drugging the girl? These were questions that he had not asked his contact. Not yet anyway. But she was an accused Garlean spy who had a Sultansworn defending her; Sergeant Crofte was advocating for her innocence. And from the look of things, the ex-Sworn may be acquitted if Ser Crofte continued to pursue this case with fervor as she had been.

 

The thought made Besten angry. Did not the Sergeant understand the countless number of lives that were lost in the battle against the Empire? How could she possibly advocate for any accused Garlean spy? She clearly had not suffered the losses he had to the Empire’s encroachment. His wife and children--all killed in the Calamity. And the fact that this spy was once accepted as one of their own... it burned his blood.

 

They should have asked me to snap her neck, he thought bitterly. Few would question him for it; fewer still would hate him for it. It would almost be worth the charges he would face. Would Crofte defend me as passionately? He knew the answer to that.

 

Ser Besten felt staunchly alone but vindicated in his righteous anger. There were others within the Order that detested all things from the Empire as much as he did. But when the girl turned herself in, many started to question their assumption of her guilt. Some snickered that she would not last suns in the gaols, but it has been two weeks and now it seemed that Ser Crofte and Ser Mcbeef’s due diligence in the matter was paying off. The system might actually exonerate Deneith. There were mutterings of how many disbelieved that the justice system would work at all. This was throwing doubts in their face like cold water to burning embers.

 

But none of them had the conviction to go through the lengths that he was willing, to do what was needed to eliminate yet another Garlean threat. Besten suspected Garleans have been infiltrating Eorzea for some time now, even within their highest ranks. Deneith only proved that the Sultanate was not immune. It would be up to him to drive out the Imperial influence, even if it meant he had to accept other influences to do so.

 

“Was that not what Ul’Dah was after all? A balanced scale of good and evil to keep things right?” Those were the words that still burned in his mind--the words that convinced him onto this path in the first place. He would do whatever it took to keep the Sultana safe, to stomp out any Imperial corruption within the Sultanate. Even if it meant treachery.

 

He had just finished buckling his gauntlets when the knock came at the door. The woman on the bed sat up rubbing her eyes. “Are you expecting someone, Sam? You have me for the whole night.” She yawned lazily, not bothering to pull the blanket over her exposed body even as he went to open the door.

 

A cloaked man stood at the entryway, and he lifted his gaze just enough to meet Samuel's. He held up a badge, one bearing a red gryphon, wings raised against a field of argent. Samuel's eyes widened, recognizing it immediately.

 

“We should talk,” emerged a gravelly voice from beneath the hood as he lowered his head. Samuel could only see the well trimmed beard that wrapped around the man's chin. He thought he could see a smirk.

 

Samuel nodded as he glanced back to the woman on the bed. “I need to go,” he simply said, even as she was arching to get a better look at the man at the door. The hooded man did not seem to care for the naked woman on plain display in the room as he turned and disappeared around the corner. Besten hurriedly grabbed his sword and shield and followed him out, mumbling something about the Immortal Flames.

 

That was the last time that the woman saw Ser Besten alive. His lifeless body was found suns later, half buried in the dirt just outside of Drybone, his abdomen gutted and opened to the sun.

[Roen]

“Acquittal?”

 

Captain Jenlyns Straightblade arched a brow, looking up from the document in his hand to the woman who handed it to him. Ser Crofte stood at attention, posture rigid, professional; her hands were tucked behind her, her eyes staring straight ahead. When the Captain posed his question, her green eyes lowered to meet his. She nodded firmly.

 

“Aye. Ser,” she said with certainty. “In light of Ser Deneith’s exemplary record, it would be a travesty to believe the accusations of one ex-spy without further evidence.” She stepped forward, nodding to indicate the pile of papers she had just laid out before him. “Especially when it is painfully clear that Ser Deneith is loyal to the City-state. She may be Garlean in her mind, but she is certainly Eorzean in her heart.”

 

Jenlyns noted the confidence in both her tone and posture as she spoke. It was something that he had not seen before, since her promotion into her current ranking. He smiled inwardly and tapped the parchments together. “And what of the testimony of the ex-Garlean spy?”

 

“Recanted. Ser. Kage Kiryuu conducted the interview and is processing the corrected testimony.”

 

Jenlyns pinched the bridge of his nose. “He was an unreliable witness all along.”

 

“Indeed, ser.”

 

“And what of the aether poison found in her cell? The one that was of Garlean make?” He had already read her report on the matter, but he wanted to hear it from her in person. The Captain regarded the woman carefully.

 

“As you know, ser, Ser Besten was found murdered. While it is a shame that one of our own was lost, and the investigation into his death is still ongoing, it does throw a suspicious light onto his involvement in Deneith’s case.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Were it just the poison that was found, it would put Ser Deneith’s innocence in a poor light, but she was also poisoned with a near-fatal dose of somnus. Someone clearly wanted her dead, ser.”

 

“Hm.” Jenlyns leaned back against his heavy chair, fingers steepled. “And we do not know who.”

 

Ser Crofte shook her head, but did not waver in her argument. “I consider that a separate matter, and one that should not have any bearing on Ser Deneith’s innocence. She has only cooperated with me since she surrendered herself, and I believe her, ser. I will give my own testimony to her behavior, her character, and my own belief of her innocence. I also have listed the names of others who are willing to do the same.”

 

The Captain looked at the document on his desk for a long time, his brows furrowed in thought.

 

“If I may… ser.” The Highlander woman broke the silence. “After this Jin’li disaster and the attempt on the Sultana’s life, you know me to be loyal to her Grace. I would give my life for her. I believe Ser Deneith to be of the same heart. She helped Mergrey infiltrate a Castrum to retrieve the device that held us captive to that madman’s whims. I would trust the Sultana’s life to my ward without fail.”

 

Jenlyns let out a long exhale, casting an expectant look on her. “Your recommendations?”

 

Ser Crofte straightened again in attention, her chin lifted. “With the recanting of Cicero’s statement of the conspiracy at the mines, and with the addition of Shaelen Stormchild’s testimony that Gharen Wolfsong was also unaware of the ceruleum theft, I recommend that the accusations of conspiracy be stricken from the records of the three Sultansworns involved, and their suspensions lifted. And exoneration of Ser Deneith from the accusations of being a Garlean spy.”

 

“Bold.” Jenlyns considered that, letting the silence fall between them. The Highlander woman waited patiently in attention, but her countenance remained calm. Almost undaunted. She is growing into her role. “Granted,” he said finally.

 

Crofte’s expression broke into a bright grin, before she quickly cleared her throat and subdued her obvious joy of triumph.

 

“Good work, Crofte.” He tapped a finger on the documents. “I am going to keep Mcbeef under your command.” When she gave him an odd look in question, he answered back with a wry expression of his own. “You two made a good team for once. And…” He could not hide the amusement in his tone. “She can submit her reports to you now.” When it looked like she wanted to say something, he continued. “Having someone under your command will make you think of their welfare, and their actions will also reflect upon you. It lends a new perspective on things, Crofte.” He knew this was the next appropriate step for her own growth.

 

“Dismissed,” Jenlyns said as he returned to whatever random paper that was in front of him. But as she saluted and pivoted for the door, he looked back up to the woman. “And file the report regarding Wolfsong with the Immortal Flames as well. I suppose he is no longer a wanted man either. I will inform Taeros.” Jenlyns furrowed his brows at the thought. “Also inform the Blades. Kiryuu and Deneith are both welcome to return to duty when able.”

 

“Yes, ser.” Crofte turned and saluted again before ducking out of his office.