The Coming Storm 【Complete】

[Roen]

Roen sat by the foot of the bed, her fingers laced together and her elbows propped up on the mattress. She paid no mind to the heavy rain that pelted the windows and the occasional lightning that lit the night sky. Candles flickered from the desk, their faint but stubborn flames fending off the darkness and holding steady in the paladin’s vigil.

 

Her silhouette resembled someone in prayer as she watched the man laid in bed, her gaze on Nero as his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He had fallen to unconsciousness after drinking too much and too quickly of the potent liquor that he had kept hidden in his vault. She had dragged him upstairs to his bedroom and made sure that his unconsciousness was just a product of the liquor and the exhaustion, rather than anything more fatal. As the paladin regarded the sleeping form of the pirate, she could see that his eyes had sunken in, the dark rings under them that spoke of sleepless nights, the near gaunt cheeks that betrayed the toll this all had taken on him.

 

And from the breakdown she had witnessed earlier that night, Roen guessed that something else must have happened. He had mentioned something about Garalt deserting him…

 

A long exhale escaped through her nose as she found herself frowning.

 

"You are a slave to your ideals. To your conscience. It doesn't matter how many are dying, or starving, or suffering. As long as your ideals are pure and your conscience clean…you are perfectly content to allow that pain to continue."

 

Even now his words still twisted her insides. They had screamed at each other, neither wanting to really hear what the other had to say. He was convinced she cared not one onze for all the suffering, no matter how much she tried to tell him that she was protecting him, lying for him, involving good people, all for his--no, their--cause. It mattered not to the smuggler; it was not enough. It was as if nothing short of a willingness to kill would prove that she was willing to make sacrifices for the sake of others.

 

And that was what he truly wanted to hear. He wanted her to admit that evil was necessary to fight evil--the tenet that had driven all of his actions. But she could not utter those words. Instead, all the doubts that she had harbored, the regrets that festered inside for so many moons since the Yoyorano incident, it all came spilling forth.

 

Nero had been so angry, fury blazing in his eyes as he roared at her in indignation. It was as if she too had betrayed him--judged him--when he deemed her unworthy of such an act. But there was something else there too: desperation. A fervent need for her to understand and to justify the sacrifice of his conscience to save people.

 

"I need to know that you will stand by me. I need to know that I am not wrong to pursue this path. I need to know that--that this dream we share, of changing Ul'dah…I need to know that it is something worth believing in.”

 

He had asked her that, so many moons ago on that pier, when he promised to be a better man.

 

Only now, Roen realized it was all a lie, whether intentional or not. Nero was still fully willing to commit more murders. To kill more people in order to draw attention to the Monetarists. And when she pressed him further, he admitted he would kill innocents as well, the one thing that she could not abide by. Even with all of the violence that he had wrought, she thought he would never cross that line again. But he confessed that he would. He would kill more women and children if it meant saving so many more.

 

How could he be so willing to cause the very suffering he was trying to end…?

 

“You've never had to sacrifice! You've always had other people, people like me, people like your brother, people like North, who have always shielded you from the truths you refuse to learn! People who have always broken themselves, their ideals, their conscience, for your sake!”

 

Those words still echoed painfully in her head. Roen unclasped her hands, fingers digging into her hair by her temples. Her eyes were shut in fervent denial of the pirate’s angry accusations. But another voice joined him in her memory, a cold mocking voice of a Miqo’te she once called mentor and friend.

 

"Whatever you suffered, you still came out of it with your ideals and your precious virtue unscathed. Some of us were not so fortunate. Some of us had to bend. Some of us had to shed whatever righteousness we had left, all to do what was necessary. Some of us had to make deals with the devil for you. So don’t you dare cast your judgement upon me.”

 

Those were Natalie’s words. Roen had not listened to her then, she was furious at Natalie’s wrongful execution of Daegsatz. But now…now when Nero was accusing her of the same…

 

Did she allow others to make sacrifices while she held her own ideals behind a protective wall of indecision? Did she hold them more important than saving people? Were they not the same?

 

Just what was she willing to do to end the suffering of others?

 

"You're so afraid of guilt, so terrified of responsibility! You're unwilling to become the evils that are necessary, even if that means saving them and their future generations! And when push comes to shove, you just sit back and condemn those who are willing to do what is necessary!"

 

Did she see Nero as a necessary evil when she first accepted entering into an alliance with the man? He promised her then that he would not have her spilling blood for him, but that they would work together for the betterment of Ul’dah. She had accepted that. Was she reassured that she would never have to commit wrongs for the right cause?

 

That had been their struggle all along. She wanted to convince Nero that there was a right way. That even in reaching for that impossible dream, to vanquish the corruption in Ul’dah, he did not need to resort to the same methods as his enemies. He promised her that the Syndicate ships he raided, he would always offer them an option to surrender without losing their lives. That regular merchants and sailors need not die for the sake of who they worked for. In turn, she did what she could to destabilize the alliances between Monetarist families, and weaken the power of his enemies. All without needless killings.

 

But after the massacre of the Yoyorano family, Nero was partnering up with Scythe and supplying his gang with guns; he had planned for much more violence down the road. And he did not care if innocent deaths were part of the collateral damage. No, she reminded herself harshly, he does care, he does not truly want it. Only...

 

He saw this as the only way. And she could not accept that. There had to be another way.

 

"Have you ever considered that just because you demand that there be a way, doesn't mean there is?"

 

Roen shook her head, as if to deny the very thought. How could he have thought of and tried everything? It was impossible. And yet, cycle after cycle, he was hoping and looking for a way to oust the Monetarists without loss of innocent lives. And he had come up empty.

 

If she came to the same realization, would she choose the same path he did?

 

A crack of thunder rumbled against the window to break her from her dark trance. Roen straightened in her seat and leaned back against her chair, looking to the prone figure in front of her as she tried to fight the weight of hopelessness that pressed against her chest.

 

What now? She had tried and hoped so desperately to save Nero. To show him the right way. But she too had compromised, forgiven and accepted deeds she would never have done so before, to try and save both him and Ul’dah. And now he laid in front of her defeated and broken. Ul’dah was still…Ul’dah. What would she do? Had she failed as well?

 

“Why did you ask me on that harbor?” She had asked him many suns ago, when she felt so alone in this cause. “Why did you ask me if you had more than my trust? Why did you ask me for my heart? I had already told you I believed in your dream. That I would see it through to its end."

 

"Because I was tired of being alone. I was tired of being the only one who saw that city for what it was. I was tired of being the only one trying to change it. That is why I asked. Even if we disagreed on how it should be done, at least you understood. Even if you found my methods repulsive, you would at least see how they worked towards my--our--goal."

 

"So it is a shared dream," she told him softly, "and a shared loneliness that bind us."

 

She had paused for a long moment before she asked again, "So what...are we?"

 

"A dubious pair of fools."

 

Indeed, a pair of fools they both had been. Nero made himself believe that the evils he committed for the sake of everyone else would be understood and justified in the end. He believed he could live with himself and with the decisions he had made, the lives he had taken.

 

And she believed she could save him, and that a wealthy and corrupt power like the Monetarists could be toppled from their gilded thrones without undue violence. That somehow, justice would prevail this time when in truth, for cycles it had turned a blind eye while greed and exploitation prospered.

 

Now what...?

 

Would she still see this plan through to its end? Even when Nero has given up? She had involved too many. Sergeant Melkire had warned her that he was going after Taeros in earnest. That he would cut, perhaps more than once. Coatleque and Gharen had already suffered in their own way, because they felt that they needed to get involved for her sake. Gideon had already risked his life in infiltrating the Monetarists society and spreading just enough lies while gathering information; he was determined to continue in his course for her benefit. Or perhaps his.

 

Roen knew she could not stop now. Things were set in motion; Nero had armed bandits within Ul’dah with guns and had primed them for more violence. She had to see them stopped, and perhaps even see the rest through, even without Nero’s help.

 

Suddenly the air around her seemed to grow heavier in its weight as it pressed down upon her. Her weariness was palpable and suffocating. She folded her arms and laid her head upon them, closing her eyes as faint light of the candles was eclipsed by the angry flashes of lightning outside.