A Forlorn Fortnight 【Complete】

[Nero]

Daegsatz shrugged sheepishly. "Not 'specially, lass. Honestly, I not really be an ideas sort o' person," he said. "Mayhaps ye be askin' N--" the Sea Wolf managed to catch himself and cut his sentence off mid-statement, aware of the tense relationship the paladin shared with his captain. "I not be knowin' th' circumstances o' Ul'dah. Truth be told, this be me first time inside th' city." He snorted, glancing about the gaol for the umpteenth time. "I be sure th' city be in possession o' its own brand o' charm, but I not be sold on it."

 

"But fer what it's worth, lass, ye be 'avin' a good heart, an' ye be wantin' ta help it fer the better," the Roegadyn affirmed. "Can't be sayin' that that be a common trait these days."

[Roen]

Nero would know.

 

Roen thought to herself. As arrogant as he was, the smuggler was a smart man. There was not a situation or a conversation yet that Roen had caught him completely unawares, he either had been prepared or quickly reached a conclusion on how to proceed without hesitation.

 

The paladin rubbed her temples. “Aye, but I am starting to realize that good intentions will not get me far.” She frowned and stood. “I best get going.” Roen took no comfort in Daegsatz’ encouragement, her thoughts now muddled with quandaries and doubt. He had posed questions that she had no answers to, and as it was, the only person that possibly could, she could not locate.

 

This day was turning out to be a long string of frustrations. Roen sighed and gave the Sea Wolf a meek smile and a nod in parting.

[Nero]

Day 12

 

Daegsatz spun the bottle idly in his hands. The temptation was there, and it would certainly help pass the bells, but on the other hand the Roegadyn found that using alcohol as a form of escapism was a rather detestable way for a man to avoid facing his dilemmas. He meant it when he said that strong drink should be reserved for celebrations. Inebriation in other situations in a more negative state were reprehensible.

 

Nearly a fortnight had he spent in the gaol, and the signs were not hopeful that his imprisonment would end any time soon.

[Roen]

I just need to not think about it.

 

That was what Roen had told herself. It was a simple solution really--just block out the unwanted thoughts in her head. The only problem was that when she had no other tasks to concentrate on, the very thing that she wanted to dismiss was the only thing that seemed to want to occupy her mind.

 

Her lips still burned from that kiss.

 

As hard as Roen tried to abandon the memory, it just kept returning with a vengeance, each time accompanied by irrational thoughts that she did not want to entertain. So rather than battling with her own imagination, she strode back out of her room, seeking escape into the cool night air. But as she meandered about the empty streets of Ul’dah, she eventually found herself in front of the gaols. Until she arrived at the doors, the paladin had not realized that she had not visited Daegsatz for the day. She had brought no food nor amenities, her thoughts so jumbled and filled with chaos.

 

So when the barred door closed behind her, Roen gave the Sea Wolf a look of curiosity tinged with dread. Would she ask Daegsatz? What would she ask him? She could not very well just tell his First Mate that she kissed his captain.

 

No, she reminded herself sternly, he kissed me.

 

She just made a face, trying not to look distraught or conflicted. She was not sure why she came.

 

A long, awkward moment of silence passed before she managed to mutter an apology. Roen quickly shook her head as if to clear the fog lingering about her. “I did not bring...anything this time. I am a little out of sorts today.”

 

She stared at him strangely then fell back onto her easiest deflection. “How are you?”

[Nero]

Daegsatz raised a bushy brow in consternation as Roen entered his cell. The paladin looked dizzy, distracted, and confused. Something had happened, and the Roegadyn did not know whether or not it would be prudent to ask about it.

 

He waved her generic query away. "Same as always, lass," Daegsatz said nonchalantly. There was not much else to say. Every passing day began to bleed into one another; sooner or later it would become hard to track time. He only knew the cycle of the sun from his sleeping habits; since he couldn't even see the sun from the cell, what day or time it was would eventually become impossible to tell.

 

Daegsatz held the bottle out to her. "Ehh...I not be one ta ask, but mayhaps ye be needin' this?" he said awkwardly.

[Roen]

On any other day, Roen would have refused the offer of a drink. She never did enjoy the burn of alcohol down her throat, nor the flushed dizziness that was left in its wake.

 

But today was not any other day.

 

She looked at the bottle long and hard, before snatching it up with a defiant frown. Why not, she thought to herself. Certainly not thinking about it was not working. Did she not bring the bottle to distract Daegsatz from his troubles after all? Besides, one drink could not hurt. And she did not want to explain to the First Mate why she was acting the way she was.

 

The paladin plopped down on the cot unceremoniously next to the Sea Wolf, uncorking the bottle. “Perhaps just a little. And only if you are drinking with me.” She brought the mouth of the bottle to her nose, then cringed as she felt its potent aroma nearly burn her nostrils.

 

Roen looked at the bottle nervously, reconsidering her decision. “Or...maybe no more than a taste.” She extended the bottle first to the Roegadyn, her inspired recklessness moments earlier suddenly draining away. “Would you like to try first?”

[Nero]

Daegsatz grinned, briefly taking the bottle and sniffing it himself. The Roegadyn's experienced nose told him that it was some kind of wine or brandy. The aroma was potent indeed, with the strong sweetness of plums. Privately, Daegsatz was glad that it was some form of liqueur; while the Sea Wolf was hardly adverse to whiskey or other such bitter drinks, it was fairly evident that Roen did not drink often, so a sweet drink would hopefully not stave her off the idea too much.

 

Still holding a smile on his face, he held the bottle out to Roen. "Nay, lass. Ye be breakin' first seal, so th' first swig belongs to ye."

[Roen]

The liquor was sweeter than Roen had expected. The warmth that permeated her chest as she took a drink from the bottle was surprisingly pleasant--enough so that she took a second sip to fully appreciate the taste on her tongue.

 

The paladin half-wondered if Momodi was exaggerating about the potency of the drink at first. It felt so...benign. But by the time she was done studying the bottle, trying to discern the fragrance and the color of it, she felt a the edge of her senses dulling just a little. She handed the bottle back towards Daegsatz with somewhat of a puzzled but strangely satisfied expression.

 

“I had expected something more bitter,” she idly commented. “I taste a hint of fruit...ripened fruit.” She smacked her tongue. “I cannot imagine this compares to a typical pirate fare.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz did his best to keep his expression from turning into a frown. If the chaste paladin was capable of taking a swig of it with a straight face, it was likely that the drink was not nearly as potent as the initial claims made it out to be, and that meant that its ability to make the bells pass by faster was probably not as strong either.

 

Still, drinking was always better with company.

 

"It prob'ly be best that ye nev'r be exposed ta Lominsan liquor," Daegsatz said amiably, taking the bottle and downing a large gulp in one swig. It was sweet, spicy, and slightly warm. The temperature bit the tongue and inside of the mouth very lightly, as if teasing, but it lacked any sort of kick to the texture. Unfortunate, but it'd have to do for now. The Roegadyn passed the bottle back to her. "It likely be knockin' ye right on yer feet. This likely be distilled from plums. Dinnae taste any sense o' long agin'." He shook his head. "Real shame, that."

[Roen]

By the time Roen took the bottle back, she found herself grinning for no reason.

 

After her third swallow from the bottle (which had themselves been preceded by tentative sips), she vaguely recalled something that Mistress Momodi had said about a flower in the liquor. Her memories all seemed fuzzy, though, and the room seemed to sway a little...

 

It is as if someone just spun me around and then made me sit abruptly, she thought, vaguely amused.

 

But she could not for the life of her recall the name of the flower. Was it... trillian? No, trolo...? No. Wait! Trillium! Roen snapped her fingers in imaginary triumph. Trillium! That was the flower that masqued the burn of the liquor.

 

‘The tongue will lie to you, but your nose won’t,’ the Lalafellin proprietor had warned her with a mischievous wink. The paladin had not paid much mind to it when she accepted the bottle, as she had no intention of drinking from it at all. The drink was all for Daegsatz’s benefit.

 

Perhaps she should have paid some attention. Roen took another gulp of the drink and then handed the bottle back to the Sea Wolf.

 

“Mister Tragg…Traggblas...” Roen's tongue felt oddly thick, and much clumsier than before. She started again. “May I just call you Mister Daegsatz? Or Mister Daegz, perhaps. Or…"

 

She squinted. "Your captain calls you Satz, aye? That..." she paused for dramatic effect, "...is a lovely name.” She waved her hand into the air vaguely as she repeated his name in many different ways. “Soldier Dance. I like that one the best.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz did his utmost to keep from rolling his eyes. The drink was truly deceptive; the sweet aroma and cloying warmth hid the intoxicating strength. Even the Roegadyn was starting to feel his inhibitions lower; the drink's effect on Roen was clear enough as only after a few drinks she had begun to sway gently and slur her speech somewhat.

 

"Eh, lass, mayhaps ye be 'avin' enough," Daegsatz said, gently trying to herd her towards the cot, placing the bottle on the ground behind him. It'd be rather awkward having her rest on the cot that was ostensibly for prisoners, but it would be more awkward if more of Roen's sobriety left her.

[Roen]

“I cannot call you Mister Dance, though. Or...Mister Soldier…” Roen paused in her ramblings, her brows furrowing as she looked to the cot.

 

“This cot is very uncomfortable. I should know! I spent nearly a moon here. A moon!” Suddenly whatever thought that came to her mind was finding an easy release through her lips. This was a fairly new concept for her; she found it rather liberating, in truth.

 

“They found me innocent too...I keep telling your captain that.” Roen poked Daegsatz’s broad chest. “Justice can work! If he would only listen to me and not try to fluster me all the time. Flirting and kissing..." She grumbled. "How is a girl supposed to keep her mind on what is important when--oh. Whoops.”

 

Roen paused, wincing. Indeed, her tongue was much too free with voicing any thought the instant it came to her.

 

What a dangerous thing, this drinking.

[Nero]

Daegsatz raised an eyebrow, holding the bottle to her. "On secon' thought, mayhaps ye be 'avin' more," he offered. Clearly, not all was well, especially between her and Nero. The Roegadyn had always been aware of his captain's frequently coquettish behaviour--like father, like son, so it went--but this was the first time he'd become aware of it happening to someone he was relatively familiar with, and judging by her reaction, Roen did not take it all too smoothly.

 

In fact, the Sea Wolf was rather annoyed at this. The paladin was chaste, partially because Roen was, in her own way, innocent and unblemished, and Daegsatz felt oddly protective of those qualities, even as he offered her another drink. Alcohol would have been fine, but when he was free of the gaol, Nero would certainly receive a stern talking-to about his amorous advances. Part of the problem was that it was typically easy for Daegsatz to tell whether or not such affections were true on his part, and more often than not they weren't.

 

"Talkin' 'bout it be makin' it easier?" The Roegadyn questioned. Even with his disapproval, he was...well, curious.

[Roen]

Any consternation that lingered on her brows quickly faded as Daegsatz offered the bottle again. The liquor seemed to make things...tolerable. Better even! A part of her knew that she should be more wary of how the drink was making her feel, but with the warmth now spreading across her chest and her tingling skin...

 

She no longer really minded her loose tongue so much. Which, she reflected after a moment, should perhaps bother her. Roen gave a narrowed-eyed glance to the bottle in her hand suddenly, knowing where to squarely lay the blame.

 

“It is Nero’s fault.” The paladin nodded solemnly. “The man is infuriating. Arrogant! And..." She gestured. "He is strange and silly. Do you know he once threw himself against a pillar?” Roen threw one hand into the air, exasperated. “And devilishly handsome. I think he knows it too, curse him. Why does he not smile more often?” She lolled her head back toward the Sea Wolf. “And that smirk does not count!” She shook her finger in the air, not giving Daegsatz a chance to answer.

 

“He said...he said he would try to be better,” Roen sighed suddenly as she sank into her seat, her voice turning wistful. She lightly brushed her lips with a finger as if to recall the memory there. “After he kissed me," she murmured, softer. "He said that.”

 

She slumped back onto her elbows, half laying on the cot. Her glazed eyes looked at nothing in particular, her cheeks suddenly feeling flushed again. She smiled just a little, her voice tinged with hope.

 

“I believe him too. Maybe I should not, but I do.”

[Nero]

He raised an eyebrow. "A pillar. Well, it not be th' oddest thing 'e be doin'." Daegsatz wasn't especially certain on how to react to this whole situation. On the one hand, the idea of a romance blossoming between Nero and Roen both piqued his curiosity and instilled some feelings of protectiveness in the Sea Wolf; the smuggler could not possibly be a good influence on someone like Roen. Conversely, the paladin might actually be enough to motivate Nero to actually change for the better, though Daegsatz wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing. Morality was all well and good, but often got in the way of things like, well, piracy. 

 

"So, eh...how that be makin' ye feel?" Daegsatz offered rather pathetically. He was not exactly a Casanova and as such felt as if he did not have much advice to offer on the subject.  Hopefully the drink was strong enough that Roen wouldn't notice his struggling to carry a conversation like this. He took another swig of the brandy and swallowed it quickly.

[Roen]

Roen continued to stare at no place in particular. Her expression had gone distant along with her thoughts.

 

“I feel…” she began then paused. It was not that she was holding herself back--she honestly did not know how she felt. There was an attraction there, this she could not deny. But what would she do about it? Matters of the heart was not a territory she was all too familiar or comfortable with. Her childhood had been spent mostly in solitude due to a grieving and estranged father, and her last five years had been spent with a family of four isolated on the far reaches of the Forgotten Springs in Southern Thalanan.

 

Roen had been content to help her adoptive family trade and farm, but having to hide her Garlean heritage from them and the rest of Eorzea...it did not give her much of a desire to socialize with the rest of the world.

 

It was only when she had decided to travel to Ul’dah to seek training as a gladiator and then a paladin that she had come across a myriad of interesting people. She had encountered some flirtatious personalities, some who even tugged at her fancy and attention, but…none like Nero had.

 

"And who am I, Roen Deneith? Who am I to you?” Nero’s words broke through her hazy recollections.

 

The paladin shook her head violently, as if chasing away gnats hovering nearby. “I should go,” she abruptly said and rose. Only her heels did not seem to want to find purchase on the stone floor. They slipped and Roen plopped back down onto the cot.

 

"Well alright," she muttered.

[Nero]

The Roegadyn patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Eh, I be thinkin' ye not be in a state ta be goin' 'ome, lass," Daegsatz said, a bit amused at her reaction. Truly, even with the strength of the drink being what it was, the paladin was not very well-versed in holding her liquor. Another baleful glance at the gaol burned from his eyes. "Though, from what ye be tellin' me, ye be plenty familiar wit' these cells already."

 

With a grunt, Daegsatz sat down next to the cot, leaning against the wall as he took the bottle from her. He shook it, giving a surprised look at the sloshing inside. "Ye be drinkin' far more than I be expectin', lass. Everythin' ta yer likin'?" His tone was half-joking and half-serious.

[Roen]

Roen blinked slowly, as if moving her eyelids took a great amount of concentration on her part.

 

“The liquor was sweet. Mistress Momodi did warn me that it would be a sneaky thing,” she said with a regretful shake of her head. “I do not think I will be drinking that again.” She said those words firmly as though to chide herself.

 

Before she knew it, Roen had come to lay on the cot on her side, her eyes going from the bottle to the Sea Wolf that held it. “Maybe if I just close my eyes for a little bit,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn, “I can get my bearings to leave. Ser Jojon will understand if I just rest here a little while, I am certain.”

 

The paladin let out a long sigh and gave Daegsatz an odd smile. “And then I can think of what to tell your captain. I will not have him continuing to test me. I asked him not to.” Her words were coming slower and quieter. “He said…just this once. He did. I am certain he will keep his promise…”

 

Her attention was starting to drift despite her best efforts to continue. She held up a finger just above the blanket for emphasis. “And." She paused for effect. "I will not have you stay here an entire fortnight… I will find Ser Crofte. I will…and…” she trailed off.

 

Roen was certain she was going to finish after she just rested her eyes a little bit.

[Nero]

Daegsatz raised his head slightly as Roen's words gave way to soft, rhythmic breathing; she must have fallen asleep. "S'pose it could 'ave been more awkward," the Roegadyn said quietly to nobody in particular as he swallowed another mouthful of brandy. The problem with spending such long stretches of time in the gaol, he found, was that eventually one ran out of things to think. All that mattered was the passing of the bells and the dimming hope of eventual freedom.

 

Day 13

 

The empty bottle clattered softly as it rolled across the stone floor of the gaol. The soft tink of it impacting with the wall shook the sensitive Roegadyn's senses awake. Instinctively he gave a spastic shake of his head, and the usual important questions filtered themselves through his mind as they usually did after a night of inebriation.

 

Where was he? A gaol in Ul'dah. What had happened? He was captured and brought here, then Roen brought some brandy. Who was Roen? One of the Paladins who had captured him who visited him daily.

 

Said paladin was now snoozing gently in the uncomfortable cot. Daegsatz was tempted to wake her for her dignity's sake, but decided against it.

[Roen]

“Deneith. Deneith!”

 

Ser Jojon’s voice brought her back to wakefulness.

 

Roen blinked her eyes blearily, her consciousness struggling through the thick haze that the strong liquor had left in its wake. For the first few moments, she thought that she was back in the gaols herself--that being exonerated and meeting Nero had all been a dream. A quick flash of panic pounded against her chest as she bolted upright, before her attention finally came to the Lalafellin jailor standing outside the barred door. He looked none too pleased.

 

“Spent the night drunk in a prisoner’s cell,” Ser Jojon said incredulously, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes narrowed. “How far ye have fallen, Deneith.”

 

“Ah...my apologies! I did not think I would be here that long. I just thought to…” Roen rubbed her eyes as if that would chase the fog away from her senses. She glanced from Ser Jojon to Daegsatz, who had fallen quiet sitting against the wall. He had apparently woken up before she did. “It was my fault really. I brought a bottle of brandy and…I did not think it would be so…strong.”

 

Ser Jojon snorted. “Well, when I found both of ye passed out, I sent the night shift home. I wasn’t goin’ to explain why I let ye in here with a bottle of liquor. Especially after what happened to ye last time ye were in here.” The Lalafell rolled his eyes, still irked. “So I am off for the day. And ye are goin’ to leave with me.”

 

Roen nodded quickly then rose, something she immediately regretted. A lance of pain shot through her temples that made her wobble slightly. “I think I am...not used to drinking something so strong.” She winced. She held out a hand to Daegsatz, as if to reassure him that she was fine.

 

“Ye think?” Ser Jojon shot a glare toward the Sea Wolf. “I think bein’ around pirates is rubbin’ off on ye, Deneith.” He retrieved the key ring from his belt, unlocking the door. “And if anyone ever finds out, this was a conjugal visit,” the Lalafell snickered.

 

Roen had no response to that; she just stared at the jailor aghast. But she thought better than to argue the point, at least not while her head throbbed so. She nodded and quickly ducked out of the cell, giving Daegsatz a rueful expression and a sheepish nod in exit. She did not meet the Sea Wolf’s eyes for long; she was embarrassed as it was that she had passed out in his cell--on his cot-- the entire night. And some of the things that were said…

 

“Don’t even think about visitin’ until tomorrow!” Ser Jojon shook his finger at her and locked the cell door again. “I think ye’ve spoiled the prisoner already.” He gave the Sea Wolf another baleful glare before walking Roen down the corridor.

[Nero]

Day 14

 

The sound of gulls. The splashing of waves. A distant shoreline. A bright blue sky.

 

All of these things had devolved into mere images, fragments of memory that occupied the edges of the mind. A weak thought floated to the top of Daegsatz Traggblansyn's consciousness; he'd been here, in Ul'dah, for a fortnight. Surrounded by naught but the featureless granite of a gaol, with the only exit being a heavily barred door. No windows existed to allow the passage of light. No comforts existed to allow for hope.

 

Nero hadn't given up on him, but that didn't mean the Hyur was foolhardy. Roen had insisted that she would see him freed, but the Sea Wolf was more aware than most would think; even without knowing the true extent of the city, Daegsatz was more than aware of the corrupted bureaucracy of the city. He knew he wouldn't be free unless the right people wanted him to be free.

 

He did not move from his position of sitting in the gaol, leaning against the wall, slumped in the corner. He found these days that he lacked the energy. It was not an issue of sustenance, but what point was there in moving in the cramped cell? It would accomplish nothing but make him more exhausted, and exhausted he was, even as all of his days were spent doing nothing but sitting in the cell, waiting for the next bell to pass.

 

Thus did he wait, with naught to keep him company but memories of a forlorn fortnight.

[Roen]

It had been a fortnight since Daegsatz had been imprisoned, and Roen still had no way to free him.

 

Ser Crofte had now been missing for three days. That might have been something that would have worried her more had it not been for the fact that a few within the Order made mention of her nursing a broken heart with a bottle or three.

 

So Roen had turned her attention to finding Nero instead...only to find that his safehouse had been emptied, cleaned out. They no longer shared a linkpearl to communicate since he had broken off their partnership over lunch, so the safehouse was the only way she was going to find him. Admittedly, her searches had so far been half hearted, but after falling unconscious in the gaols, the paladin had dedicated that day to finding Ser Crofte or Nero. She had been too embarrassed to return to the gaol that day, Ser Jojon’s orders to stay away aside.

 

But Daegsatz was now the only hope she had left of finding Nero. If she could not get Ser Crofte to free him, then perhaps the pirate would find a way. And…she needed to make sure the smuggler was alright, that he had not run into unexpected trouble.

 

He can handle himself, Roen reassured herself. He had killed those bandits and the Brass Blade on his own, after all. The man could handle himself in a fight. She had no reason to worry.

 

Still...a consternated frown lingered when she entered the Sea Wolf’s cell, urgency hurrying her words.

 

“I cannot find your captain," the paladin just blurted out. "His safehouse has been cleared out. It is completely empty.”

[Nero]

Daegsatz looked up at the paladin with bleary, dull eyes. Doing nothing was truly more of a drain on the body than any manner of activities; every bell that passed forced him to keep himself still, and calm, to keep his mind from breaking from the silence and the isolation. Keeping himself that restrained was more exhausting than one would think, and that made itself clear on his face.

 

"If'n...Nero be gone, then, ye be checkin' th' ports," the Roegadyn didn't say so much as he sighed out the words. "Somethin' be 'appenin' that 'e not be makin' landfall back 'ere fer a while, so 'e'd be...goin' back to the Forte." Daegsatz struggled to sit up straight, and shook his head to clear his speech somewhat. "Mayhaps Vesper Bay, if 'e be movin' everythin' at once."

[Roen]

The urgency that had tugged at her drained away when she noted the listlessness in the Sea Wolf. She sighed, sympathy sagging her shoulders.

 

Roen stepped toward the cot, kneeling in front of Daegsatz to look up at his eyes; his gaze seemed weighed.

 

“Meditation helped me, while I was in here,” she offered softly. “Then some conditioning exercises. The first helped my mind escape beyond the walls, and the second helped the body shed the weakness brought on by lethargy.” The paladin laid her hand over his thick knee, her expression betraying her remorse.

 

“I know it has been a fortnight. But just try and think on what you will do after you get out,” Roen tried to smile, if anything to try and lend him some hope. She remembered such things were precious and few to come by when she was in the gaols. “I will treat you to a good meal at Bismarck. If you have not had a good meal there recently, it is a must! Then perhaps we shall go look for that patch of beach that you drew. I would like to see it.”

 

“I will go find your captain, hopefully before he leaves for the Forte.” The paladin rose to her feet and turned for the door, the thought of chasing the smuggler to his ship making her grimace. “If I cannot get you out with Sultansworn help, then perhaps he and I can come up with something together.”

[111]

Natalie sighed as she looked at the man sitting hunched on the floor in front of her. He was probably a terror once, his voice and his axe striking fear into all who encountered him. However at this moment, all she felt was pity. Weeks of confinement had not been kind to the man, all this time away from the sea, the sun, and fresh air, it seemed to have aged him a decade from the man she captured at the Silver Bazaar.

 

Even she had not intended for things to turn out this way, a situation she mused, which occured entirely too often. She had come with a death sentence for the man, but also a hope of a pardon. The death sentence itself was legal, if one didn’t look too hard. Jameson had friends among the magistrates as well, and the sentence was pushed through with a speed suspiciously unlike that of most judicial proceedings in the city. She’d hoped to have only used it as a threat, that the damned man would just give her something, anything.

 

She didn’t ever care about the quality of the information, she knew much of it would be false, but she needed an excuse. A excuse to let the damnable stubborn Roe go, and track him back to Nero. However they had gone back and forth for over an hour, she had given up on the details, instead simply focusing on Nero’s warehouses. However she couldn’t even get that out of him. She’d given up on torture immediately, having learned long ago there was no value in breaking the already broken.

 

The Roegadyn looked up at her with a strange smile on his face, "Limsa Lominsa. His base is in Limsa Lominsa. That be as much as yer gettin' from me."

 

Natalie sighed again, hoping that something would interrupt this course of action she’d set. She could simply leave him, the Blades would be more than happy to carry out the sentence and loot the body. She took a deep breath. No, she thought, the one who started this has to see it through. She gave him a strained smile of her own, "Very well. It's unfortunate it had to turn out this way."

 

"Ye've no idea," the Sea Wolf muttered under his breath, slumping against the wall.

 

Natalie looked out the narrow grate on the cell door. Ser Anelia Sadowyn and Lieutenant Khan’a Od’hilkas had asked to watch the interrogation, and now both of them looked like they would rather be anywhere else. "Anelia, Lieutenant, do you have any questions? "

 

Kahn'a shook his head. The conversation had risen his interest, but he spoke none of that. "We're done here if you are."

 

Anelia simply responded with a curt shake of her head.

 

Natalie turned back around to face him, "You’ve been in here a while, ever wondered why this cell has a drain on the floor?"

 

The Roe gave the drab cell a cursory inspection. "'elps with th' cleanup, I s'pose. Bloodstains be quite a pain ta get out o' the stone."

 

Natalie laughed bitterly, "You’re smart, too smart for you to waste it like this.” She sighed, “It really was a shame we couldn't help each other out."

 

She drew her blade slowly, the light dancing off it strangely in the dark space. "Ul'dah has had many leaders, the majority of whom weren't as kind as Nanamo. During those times this isn't a cell... it's an execution chamber." Natalie began to speak in a steady almost ceremonial voice. "Under the authority of the Sultana and the Syndicate you have been sentenced to death for the crimes of smuggling, murder, and piracy on the high seas."

 

"Do you have any last words?"

 

The Roe shook his head. "Then 'ave the graces ta make it quick, girl. Llymlaen not be the most patient mistress. As fer last words..."

 

His eyes looked up, first to the sword, and then to her eyes, "Well, I 'ope yer doin' what ye believe to be right, girl." With a look of resignation he simply let his head sag. "I 'ope ye all come away with a clean conscience."

 

Natalie gave a tired smile. "We all have our roles to play, I take no shame in mine."

 

With that she swung her blade in a low arc, slicing through the meat of his neck, the tip of her blade scraping against his spine as the man’s neck was opened up neatly. Natalie stepped backwards slightly at the end of her swing avoiding the spray of blood.

 

There was no cry, no growl, naught but a slight grunt. The Roegadyn's eyes widen as his body slumped over, the crimson fluids making a scramble for the drain on the floor.

 

Kahn'a turned his head away as the sentence was carried out, eyes shutting in disgust.

 

Natalie wiped her blade on a cloth and walked out the door, noticing his reaction. "Spare me the show Khan. As if he was so considerate to any of our sailors they found on the seas.” She began to feel anger rising within her. “He was a pirate, a smuggler, a murderer and worse, if he's not fit for execution, who is?" She was almost shouting.

 

"Blood is blood. You have your duties, I have mine. Here's not the place for me to give my opinion. I merely came to observe and will leave... satisfied." The Flame Lieutenant’s expression held no protest against the Sworn.

 

Natalie glared at him for a moment, before finally she took a deep breath and nodded. “Fair enough.” She took a clipboard off the wall, specifying the body to be buried at sea. "It's a shame,” she mused. “In different circumstances I think we would have gotten along..."

 

She hung the clipboard back on the wall with a sigh. "Bloody politics..." She shook her head and walked out the corridor.