“The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” - J.R.R. Tolkien
Hey!! @mer-birdman, I'm your secret santa!! ❤️ Here's my gift for you. I hope I portrayed Irina and Jasper to your liking, and that you enjoy it ❤️
I wish you a happy happy new year!! May it be a good one. Take care!!!! <3
(Oh! And if there’s anything that you’d like me to change, just lemme know!! I will upload the pic and some alternative versions and stuff in a drive folder, so you can have it all in a better resolution! :3.
In which I am over 10 days behind. Damn. I’m a mess.
I just replayed the Jasper route in 7KPP the other day and had a lot of feels after finally stumbling on the historian secret, so I thought I’d fic about it because hey, that’s the best way to deal with feels, amirite?
Prompt List | Masterpost
14. “Some people call this wisdom.”
She is in the grand library, scouring the shelves with unusual, even for her, fastidiousness when Jasper finds her.
“Lady Evelynne.”
Without so much as a glance at him, she can still sense his slight disapproval in the intonation of her name. Then again, considering even Duke Lyon has apparently abandoned his book fort in favor of his room for the night, perhaps he has reason enough to be reproving.
Nonetheless, she turns, grinning up at her stoic butler with a combination of innocence and mischief. “Yes, Jasper?”
To her delight, the sides of his mouth twitch, almost imperceptibly, before he takes a step closer, once again the paragon of propriety. “When you were not in your room this evening, I did not expect to find you here, of all places. Surely rumors of one supernatural being haunting the library is more than enough.”
She laughs. “I assure you that I have no intention of infringing on Duke Lyon’s position in the summit. I am investigating.”
And she definitely doesn’t need to look at him to feel the skepticism rolling off of him in veritable waves. “In a library?”
“Sure!” She waves a vague hand at the shelves lining the walls. “All of this information must contain something helpful to the trial.”
“In the section devoted to the history of Vail Isle?”
Honestly, she should have been expecting that level of perception; she is talking to Jasper, after all. Still, she shrugs. “Why not?”
When he only blinks at her, she has to bite her lip to prevent from laughing aloud. “Surely you can be more subtle than that, Lady Evelynne.”
“Perhaps, but I have no need to, do I?” It’s a strange feeling, trusting another after a life of polite smiles and inscrutable masks to fend for herself and her family, but something about him… She can afford to let down her guard, not that she’d be able to hide much from his butlery senses anyhow.
Almost as if he can sense her thoughts, he sighs audibly. “You are searching for more information.” It is a statement, not a question, and she only inclines her head as he presses his lips together, as though to prevent from saying something he shouldn’t, and lowers his voice. “It is an organization kept secret for a reason, Lady Evelynne.”
She grins at him. “And what could be more secure than hiding in plain sight?”
“Virtually anything?”
His reply is deeply sardonic but she shakes her head, unperturbed. “You know, some people call this wisdom.”
“Others,” he retorts instantly, “call it folly.” In spite of his words, however, there is a glint of amusement in his eyes, even as he raises an eyebrow at her. “Finished?”
“I suppose.” She heaves an overly put-out sigh that is only half-exaggerated at the thought of the many tasks still waiting for her. “I have work to do, after all.”
Somehow, she is not entirely surprised to find a mug of tea, mysteriously still warm, waiting for her at her desk once she returns to her room, nor a tome, carefully placed under her pillow, where she will be sure to find, chronicling the events of the original summit from the perspective of a curious young Isle native.
After all, he, out of anyone at the summit, has never failed to aid her however he can.
Slowly making progress....like a little snail... And yes, I paraphrased... a lot. But that’s what fan fic is for, right?
Doubt is an insidious thing. For some, it is an ever present feeling, gnawing away at the corners of their thoughts until they are so tangled up in its grasp that they can hardly do anything for the worry and fear eating at their insides. For others, it is so quiet that they do not even know it is there until they have already leapt from the precipice, too confident in their supposed invincibility. For most, however, it comes and goes, growing at times, waning at others. Jasper, so well read on history and human nature as he was, knew all of this. It did not, however, make it any easier to deal with.
He’d had doubts before, of course, when he was younger and more idealistic. He was not that naive young man anymore; he had accepted what it meant to be in his circumstances, both as historian and a servant during the Summit. He didn’t always like the rules by which he was supposed to live his life per se, but who did? They were all of them bound by some responsibility or bond that placed restrictions on their choices. Why should he be any different from anyone else? His life was what it was, and he had no more power to change it than he had to change the histories that had come before.
Which made it hit all the harder when he was confronted with what seemed to be the source of many of his current doubts, as he herded Elisabeth back to her room, her face a show of a contrition. He was furious, not with her for eavesdropping; he might have found that a little amusing if the circumstances had been different. No, he was still fuming from the unwanted reminder of his oaths and duties from Yvette, and then to have the shock of nearly knocking Elisabeth over a moment later, when he had just been warned to keep his distance—he was lucky to get away with a few muttered oaths and a pounding heart. Proof that he had indeed become complacent.
The door had just closed behind them when Elisabeth, wringing her hands exclaimed, “I really am so sorry, Jasper! I heard raised voices, and then when I recognized your voice I was so shocked I—”
“Please, Lady Elisabeth. Allow me to explain before you distress yourself,” he said, holding up a hand for silence, surprised when she obeyed. He had come to expect more resistance, mostly teasing, from her. He softened slightly as he realized she was as discombobulated as he was. “How much do you know?”
“I know nothing, not for certain. But somethings I have heard or seen…I could make assumptions.”
“No, that won’t do. I will tell you, but none of what I am about to say may leave this room. More lives than yours or mine depend on such secrecy.”
Bright green eyes wide, she replied, “Of course not! I would never betray your trust in such a way!”
Jasper nearly smiled. Perhaps he had been a little excessive with such a declaration, but his oaths to the Isle and to history stretched longer and were more firmly tied than his oath to the woman in front of him. Motioning for Elisabeth to sit, which she hastily did, he began laying out the history of the Summit, of Katyia, and briefly, of his family’s role and his oath as a historian, to which he was doubly bound.
To stave off the questions he could tell she wanted to ask, he added, “We cannot speak of this again. Not while the Summit is ongoing. There are more dangerous forces at work here than you know, and I would not have you in more danger than you are already. I am sorry, Lady Elisabeth.” He turned to leave, his doubts looming larger than before. After all, shadows are longest when light shines from behind.
4 weeks before the arrival of the delegates, Jasper’s planning is disrupted. He handles it - because Jasper always handles it.
Jasper looked up from his book with a frown. It was early yet, and outside the world was a quiet torrent of rain. Most everyone, he thought, ought be in bed still, or at least no further out of it than it took to start waking up properly. Leavening himself out of bed, he eased open his door, surprised to be greeted by a fresh faced looking Greer.
“Good morning Greer,” he said.
“Good morning Jasper,” she replied, eyes sliding past his to focus on his ear briefly, then his nose. He supposed someone must have told her the staring was off putting. “The Matchmaker wants to see you, immediately.”
“I see, I will attend to her at once then,” he said, “thank you for the message.”
Greer just nodded, disappearing down the hall with heavy footsteps and the swish of her skirts. Quickly he got dressed, though not so quickly that he was not as neat and styled as he ever was. It did not do to let oneself grown complacent, especially not with the Summit looming. He had no doubt from her profile that Lady Jiyela would not be overly troublesome, by all accounts she was smart and social and perfectly acceptable, but that did not mean there would never be need to rouse at inopportune times.
Removed from the traditional confines of their societies and parents, almost anything could happen among the delegates.
This early the halls were quite staid, in a way they would not be for quite a while. Once the delegates were here, there would be an unsettled sort of feeling permeating the entire island. So Jasper enjoyed his short walk from his rooms in the servants halls, to the matchmaker’s room. He had only knocked once before her voice rang out.
“Come in dear boy, you know you’re expected.”
Easing open the door, Jasper bowed shallowly to the matchmaker, noting she had a generous breakfast laid out, and a second plate and cup of tea ready. “Politesse is also expected,” he said. The matchmaker smiled, simply fanning her hand in a sit down motion.
“Tea?” she asked.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting it once poured.
“Your assignment has changed,” the Matchmaker said instead of anything one might expect. “Your Lady Jiyela unexpectedly found a love match at home, and will not be joining us. Your replacement,” she slid a small packet of paper toward him, lips pursed.
“This happened four weeks before the Summit?” he asked.
“Five, apparently the mail was delayed,” she said, “I got this late last night. She was chosen because she is a cousin, and because her brother will be attending as well. It’s quite a family affair.”
“I see,” he flipped quickly through the little bundle of information, mind already racing. They had just over three weeks to change anything they needed to in their preparations.
“I am sorry, dear boy,” she said.
“We will handle it,” he said, “it won’t be a problem.”
“No,” she said, unwinding enough for a wry smile to crawl across her face. “I suppose you wouldn’t allow that, would you?” Jasper gave her a look, and she cackled. “Don’t look at me like that boy, I know about your tender pride.”
“It is not pride, it is expectation,” he said, feeling just a touch defensive about himself. “I don’t wish to be rude however-”
“Lady Elisabeth is not going to suddenly appear, and you will be hardly impacted by eating before you hare off to harass your staff,” she said. “Eat. And finish your tea.”
Jasper sighed, but set aside the papers, careful to keep them from the threat of food and tea. “Very well, matchmaker.”
The matchmaker just laughed.
Finding Sayra and Ria, once he was released from the matchmaker’s custody, was no great demand. Ria’s bright red hair was a beacon at the breakfast table. Jasper headed right for her, easily spotting the tall form of Sayra across her. As he approached, his eyes fell on a short haired brunette, seated next to Ria. When her eyes met his, her blue eyes went wide. It was, he was certain, quite comical to see her immediately skitter to the side, catching Ria’s attention and leading to half of the table staring him down.
Sadly, Jasper did not find himself in a good humour, too preoccupied with the head ache looming large.
“Good morning Ria, Sayra,” he said, nodding first to the two maids who would be serving their respective lady, and then to young Imogen, still looking a little perturbed. Clearly his reputation preceded him. Or Ria was telling horror stories. “Imogen.”
“Jasper, sir,” Imogen and Ria said in near unison. Sayra just gave him a deep nod.
“If you two are finished with breakfast, we will need to meet to discuss some changes,” he said.
“Changes sir?” Ria asked, green eyes wide. “What sort?”
“We’ve a new lady,” he said. Ria’s face went white.
“A new – what happened to lady Jiyela?”
“A whirlwind romance,” he said.
“We’re done, then,” Sayra said, standing and lifting her mostly cleared plate.
The profile on Lady Elisabeth was not any more worrying than any other delegates, and Jasper kept this in his mind as Ria, Sayra and himself studied and looked for any major differences they would have to keep an eye on. The only difference between her and any other delegate was the amount of time Jasper had to get to know her – or the her painted in reports.
“Oh,” Ria fluttered around him, hands clearly unsure of where to go. “Oh but she’s a different rank than Lady Jiyela!”
“I am perfectly confident in your ability to remember which curtsy to use, Ria,” Jasper said. “Until she is here, we don’t have much to change however, I simply wished to inform you.”
“Yes, it would be awful to call her the wrong name,” Sayra said, the tiniest touch of wryness in her tone. Ria nodded enthusiastically, clearly having missed it, distracted by her worrying.
“Indeed,” Jasper agreed, standing. “That is all for now, we will continue as we have been and so you are released to your current duties until tomorrow morning.”
“And you?” Sayra asked, dark eyes locked on him.
“I am also to attend to my current duties, as ever.”
* * *
Bravado aside, Jasper could not lie that a slight sense of anxiety settled over him as he eyed the room around them. The Arlish and Corvali delegations had arrived earlier in the morning, and now Skalt, Jiyel and Hise were descending on them all nearly simultaneously. The castle was primed, ready to intercede the moment the delegates feet hit land. In less than ten minutes their mysterious last-minute lady would be upon them. As if on cue, a sharp knock rapped on the door and even Sayra twitched slightly, looking up from the vanity she had been glaring down at while Ria compulsively soothed non-existant wrinkles from the bedding.
“Elisabeth of Jiyel’s room?” were the words that greeted Jasper, and a moment later the bag boy, Evin, looked up from his list and grinned. “Heya Jasper, got your lady’s trunks for you!” As he spoke the two even younger boys attending him pulled a set of sleek trunks from the top rack. Jasper wordlessly opened the door wider and stepped aside – the boys, despite their youth and silly grins, were quick to place them at the foot of bed.
“Thank you gentlemen,” Jasper said and the three boys beamed.
“No problem Jasper! Have fun!” Evin said, already consulting his list. “Next hall boys, we gotta duke!”
Jasper closed the door behind them and turned; Sayra swooped down on her offerings, the picture of furious focus as she gently removed reams of silk and chiffon from their prisons.
“Well,” she said, looking up after a moment. “She likes purple.”
“Purple’s a lovely colour,” Ria, clearly primed to be a very loyal lady’s maid indeed, said. “But oh look she has a few greens! And flowers, oh these are lovely.” She reached out as if to touch one of the gowns, and then paused, pulling back. Sayra eyed her briefly, and then nudged the second bag.
“Your stuff’s probably in there,” she said. Ria’s eyes lit up, and with that tactic permission she set to excavating for her own little treasures. Jasper took up his spot by the door, as if he were expecting their lady to pop in unannounced any second now, and tried to figure out how this collection of pastel fabrics, ribbons and oils fed into the puzzle that was Elisabeth of Jiyel.
Five minutes later and Sayra and Ria had packed away seven week’s worth of living materials, arranged the vanity and vanished the trunks to the top of the armoire. Two minutes after that, a knock, not as sharp as the bag boys’ had been, silenced the quiet chatter that had filled their space. Jasper gave the girls a second to arrange themselves before he opened the door, stepping outside. People were making their way to the front halls, and Jasper fell into step with a nearly green looking Orion.
“If I die, I’m giving you all my stuff Jasper,” Orion said without preamble. Jasper did not roll his eyes, but only because he was long out of the habit.
“You will be perfectly fine, you’ve always liked a challenge,” he said. “And the novel – surely a Skaltish priestess is both?”
“And probably armed,” Orion said, with a glumness that did not suit his voice nor his face. “Ah, well it could be worse. I’ve never much liked birds anyway.”
“Birds,” Jasper said.
“Sacrifice them don’t they? For rites and fortune telling.”
“I suppose you would know,” Jasper said. Orion flashed him a much more typical grin, before straightening to his full – and not inconsiderable – height as the doors to the entrance hall came into view. Jasper sped up just a touch, carefully arranging people as he went, nudging everyone into twin lines. Orion stayed at the back, looming over the rest of the party and Jasper studied everyone once, before he fell into a gap left for him closer the front. Immediately, the doors swung open.
The butlers filed in, and Jasper’s eyes were drawn to the General, one of the faces he knew for certain. A little septet of Jiyeli candidates lined up to his left. They were largely dark haired, and his eyes skipped over them, drawn instead to the two lighted haired delegates.
Checking one last time that his uniform was in the best condition it could be whilst also on a person, Jasper stepped forward, coming to a stop in front of the general first.
“Good evening sir,” he said with a bow.
“Evening,” General Falon said, brows pulled together sharply. “Which one?”
“I believe I already know sir,” Jasper said, “Lady Elisabeth.”
The General jerked his head toward the blonde woman – who was now openly and curiously watching them, eyes flitting between him, the General, and the two butlers now at Jasper’s back, waiting to make their own introductions.
“Good evening Lady Elisabeth,” Jasper said, stepping forward with a bow before looking to large blue eyes. “My name is Jasper, I will be your Butler for the next coming weeks.”
* * *
My apologies that this is two days late! Life - more notably the wifi - was not kind to me. Still, I hope you enjoy this little run up to Jasper and Elisabeth’s first meeting and had a VERY excellent Holiday, Quilleth!
In which the author gleefully ignores both game mechanics and timeline in favour stressing her MC out even more than Week 4 usually does.
Lady Pippa of Corval learns a secret, and makes a decision, and betrays Jasper terribly.
(note: spoilers for week 4 and Corval personal plot. No Jaspers were harmed in the writing of this fic)
Pippa watched Jasper leave, her face blank as her mind raced. Of course her butler was part of an ancient order beholden to record history without bias – why would it be any other way? Honestly she had known something was afoot – never mind that little scene in the library two weeks ago. Sighing, she buried her face in her hands and tried to sort everything out. First though, it meant putting her mysterious cliff side informant from her mind. Not the easiest task, especially given his likely history with Jasper himself, but it was still a doable one. For now.
Even ignoring that, there were concerns. Well of course there were concerns, this summit had turned out to be nothing but concerns upon more concerns with some flirting and assassination attempts for flavour. Saying there were concerns was silly – more like, she had questions as well as concerns. Was this related to that gift, last week from her mysterious benefactor? Jasper, she was quite certain, had not been expecting it and it sounded like exactly the opposite thing his group would do – and besides he and Yvette had both given her things. No, that was a third party. Which did not account for all her questions, but did so account for most of the pertinent ones.
Which left concerns.
Namely, Jasper and her mother. She didn’t think he knew about her personal trouble maker, and as such doubted he knew he’d put her in a tight spot. Indeed, she was almost positive that if he’d known he would have found some oblique way to mention he knew. Though, he was the subtlest person she’d ever met...and either way, Pippa in no way blamed Jasper. He had not put her in a tight spot, she had put herself there.
Pippa did not have to be nosey, it was a flaw she had cultivated, much to her current chargrin. She easily could have kept walking, or just apologized to Jasper and told him she would keep what she heard to herself and not think on it further.
It would have protected Jasper, in a passive sense even if it did nothing for her mother. It all came down to that damn blackmailer. At first it had not seemed so bad – trading secrets for her mother’s life was no real problem, especially when the secrets were not hers. It had quickly grown more complicated than that however. People were involved in things Pippa had only gotten glimpses of, but she knew deep down those things were dangerous, and Pippa cared for many of these people.
It had been a fools dream to think she wouldn’t run into this issue, anyhow, but Pippa had been called foolish more than once.
“Ah Pippa, what have you gotten yourself into?” she asked aloud. Naturally, there was no response and she stood, more for something to do than anything. She saw before her only two paths – to comply, and thus betray explicitly given trust, or to fight back and risk...everything.
Funny how things as complicated as assassination attempts and rigged murder trials were so easy to handle, and something as simple as morality could be so hard. Pippa had seen the struggle first hand countless times – her mother, her aunts, her allies, her enemies. Most everyone had their limits, even in Corval, but she’d seen them crossed because it was easier to do wrong and stay hidden than to lift your chin do what was right, but have no cover once you’ve done so. Pippa had been blessed, in that sense, as she’d never until now hit that moment. Smuggling away silly poets and sad princesses was simplicity itself on all fronts – it was right, it wasn’t particularly hard to pull off and any fall out would have been minimally unpleasant for a short amount of time.
This though – people could die. People she loved more than anything. Was Jasper worth her mother? She only thought on it for a second before rejecting the question as ridiculous. Of course he was. Jasper had protected and helped her in these four weeks in a manner almost exactly similar to what her mother would have done in the same amount of time. She did not doubt, either, he would continue to do so. And unlike her mother, after only four weeks Jasper had trusted Pippa with at least one of his greatest secrets. Her mother’s secrets were still mysteries to Pippa, or could only be guessed at. She didn’t think it was a question of trust of course but either way she could never-
“Oh gods all damn,” she said as she realized exactly what she was thinking.
She could never betray that trust.
“Gods all damn,” she said again, because it made her feel better.
Tracking down her mysterious blackmailer was going to require any number of very careful questions. The traders were a dead end – bless them for trying though. Her contacts in the city would be watched, and there was no way to get any information to her contacts outside the city. Not to mention they would be useless – her uncles were not exactly politically minded and the middle of the desert was not a great place to stumble on information. Getting a letter to Constance was too risky – it would not be overly suspect as she’d sent one in her first week – but endangering her too honest friend was not appealing. There was Alisher...she paused on that one.
A letter to him would certainly get attention somewhere, but if the contents were right people would ignore it, and he would immediately know something was afoot. He would go to her mother though, and Pippa wasn’t ready for that.
Which left her with one option.
At least this option did not include any letters, yet. And she had to go to the kitchens anyway – in all the fuss she had entirely forgotten to ask Jasper to get a tea arranged for tomorrow afternoon. Pippa took a moment to consider what he was going to say tomorrow morning once he found out she’d gone an arranged it herself, and then she shook her head.
He was doing entirely too much right now as it was – if she could arrange a welcoming party for Constance in a measly eight days and please even Prince Aamdir, she could arrange an informal tea.
Well. Now she had a plan:
Talk to Mrs. White and arrange tea, get spare pastry
Bribe stable boy
Prove Imogen’s innocence to a jury than included Lord Blain
Find blackmailer and deal with them appropriately
Simplicity itself.
Alisher, for anyone interested, is the unnamed young guard from Day 1 who caught Pippa dancing, they have stayed very good friends since that day almost a decade ago.
