#veiled intentions

[veils-and-hearts]

“There was one incident…” Llinos hovered at the edge of Kuzhuk’s desk, tracing her lacquered nails over the glossed surface.  The towering xaela watched her from his chair, parchments of metrics and profits in his hands.  She felt his eyes tear themselves from his facts and figures to rest on her, even as she kept her own gaze on the swirling grains of the desk. His tone betrayed no hint of this thoughts, but she could feel the tension starting to build in the air between them. “Incident?” 

The Phoenixfaire had been quite the success.  Attendance was high, she’d informed him over a glass of celebratory red wine. The xaela was not one for such spectacle, so he’d lingered in his office to organize for an upcoming expedition that was more to his pleasure.  But he liked hearing about success, especially when it led to profits to fund their operations.  High attendance, high profits, successful performances and reviews which would likely lead to similar success in the future, as well as worthwhile connections forged with other businesses.  It was all around a positive report. Except one thing. “A death threat was made…against me.”  Llinos brought her glass to her lips and drained the cup before she sat herself on the plush couch in front of Kuzhuk’s desk.  “At the end of the evening, Mr. Deckard – one of Kasumi’s people we hired for security – came to inform me, along with one Caex’ra Vaeriar.  The latter was talking with a woman making ominous statements about my coming to see her…or else someone more dangerous would come to see me.” Llinos looked up to watch the man’s face. His expression was still unreadable save for the line on his dark brow that only appeared when a thought truly vexed him.  Llinos felt a little annoyance with the matter herself, but she felt other things about it more – concern, for one, and a desire to not worry her business partner. “Do we have a name to this…’threat’?  Do we know if they are possibly bluffing?” Kuzhuk asked with a calmness that didn’t fit the tension that hung in the air. “Lady Dusk, to answer your first.  To answer your second?  No, we don’t know for certain.  Mr. Deckard advises caution, as does Caex’ra.  Caex’ra seemed to know something of her, at least enough to know she’s a powerful enough magick-user for her words to possibly have merit.”  She saw Kuzhuk scowl at that at last, but he was not one to lash out blindly.  He let his anger seethe beneath its indigo surface.

“If she truly wished me dead, she’d have done so,” Llinos offered.  “I think I have no choice but to meet with her.  Clearly, she wants to see how I’ll respond to this…invitation.”

“You mean to meet with this woman?  This woman, who showed you the disrespect of threatening you at your own gathering?”  Kuzhuk asked with curiosity bordering on incredulity.  He had lived in Eorzea for quite a long time, had absorbed her mannerisms and culture until he was only a xaela in appearance, but every so often his old tribal spirit showed through.  It occurred to Llinos that such an incident probably would seem very taboo in his culture.  Guest right, he explained to her once.  They had something similar in Eorzea, though the degree of brevity in which it was treated varied among her people, but it was not so lightly treated on the Steppes.  If one was a guest, they were under the protection of the host and there were certain rules one did not violate or they would anger not only the gods, but the tribe as well.  Violation was not only seen as dishonorable but cowardly.  Kuzhuk was not one to put much stock these days in honor, but he had a very low tolerance for cowardice.  Something to do with his father, she vaguely recalled.

“What alternative do I have?  I could ignore her words, certainly, but I can’t afford for her to cause trouble for me now.  I don’t quite have the protections I need and you’re about to be off on an expedition. I’m not a hardened warrior, my defenses are limited.”  Llinos was almost surprised at the calmness in her own tone, but she felt it was more for Kuzhuk’s benefit than her own.

“You could stay with any of our allies—”

“I could…but I’d rather not drag them into it if I have no idea what I’m up against.  It hardly seems fair or kind to them besides.”

“You’re too considerate for an Ul’dan noble.” Kuzhuk sneered at her in annoyance.  “No one else would think twice about using what resources they have at their disposal if it meant their life.”

“Maybe I prefer it that way?”  Llinos frowned in offense.  She disliked this xaela telling her how to act her part.  “Maybe I think my allies appreciate that I am considerate, and it means they might show me the same consideration in the future?”

Kuzhuk scoffed at her.  “If they don’t think you a fool.”

Llinos rose from her seat to harshly set down her empty glass on his desk.  “Consider this then, we don’t know why she is threatening me.  What does she know about me?  Would I wish to share that with my new allies just now?  Would you?”

There was a silence between them as Kuzhuk finally understood Llinos’s concern and her hesitation. It was not that Llinos had never had her life endangered before.  Kuzhuk knew this.  But usually she knew why.  This was a rare moment where she knew nothing of who wished her harm…and it truly scared the woman.  Was this simply because they saw her as an upstart?  Did they learn her secrets?  Not knowing what was being held against her made it hard to reach out to anyone just yet.  Her hands were tied and she hated it.  It was all she could do, Kuzhuk realized, to keep the emotion and the situation contained. The quiet stretched for a long time before Kuzhuk sighed in vexed resignation.  “So, you intend to meet with her?”

“Yes,” Llinos answered, her voice equally withdrawn.  “But not alone.  Caex’ra offered to go with me.  I intend to take him up on his offer.  He’s quite fierce but very honorable and prone to speaking his mind.  If he sees anything amiss, I trust him to say so plainly, and to not stand for anything which would bring me to harm.  He’s a bit of a wild card, but I rather think I’ll need it.”

“Got a good read on him?  Well, I trust you on that.”  Kuzhuk was trying, Llinos realized, to make up for his earlier statements.  He was not one for apologies, but he was for gestures.

“I appreciate that.”  Llinos said in acknowledgement of both his words and sentiment.  She offered a frail smile before turning to leave.  “I wish you well on your expedition.  I do hope your findings are favorable.”  She would have offered him a blessing but Kuzhuk wasn’t one for superstition or gods either…and he was starting to rub off on Llinos a little in that regard.

“Come back safely, Llinos.”  He said in response.  “Will I see you again later, preferably before I depart?”  It was a rare moment when he allowed himself to look hopeful.  His gaze lingered over her as she paused by the door.

Picking up on it, Llinos flashed a coy grin over her shoulder at the man, a teasing glance for an answer, and then departed.

[veils-and-hearts]

the owl man

@forthepursuitofknowledge On a sparse entry of her journal titled Noah Kelten, it read: He wears a hood and mask, the likeness of an owl, to hide his sins...why an owl?  But then it stops.  Perhaps more words would fill the page at a later time?  But between the pages, a folded note was tucked, the word Kelten written on the back.  Unfolded, it held a verse taken from some timeworn tome if the yellowing of the parchment was any indication.  Its words held, perhaps, all the answer Llinos needed. THE OWLS Under the overhanging yews, The dark owls sit in solemn state, Like stranger gods; by twos and twos Their red eyes gleam. They meditate. Motionless thus they sit and dream Until that melancholy hour When, with the sun's last fading gleam, The nightly shades assume their power. From their still attitude the wise Will learn with terror to despise All tumult, movement, and unrest; For he who follows every shade, Carries the memory in his breast, Of each unhappy journey made. (by Baudelaire)

[veils-and-hearts]

Ideas of Romance

I had a conversation with grandmama about one of my patients, an auri man. He's particularly close with my Sindri, but I've started to get to know him better myself.  I know him to be a genuine, protective and gentle being at heart.  Though, I also know, he isn't that way to everyone.  It depends how Sokhatai reads you.  He is a hunter by nature and I get the sense that he is always observing, testing and learning. His decisions are quick once he's of a mind to make them and like an arrow loosed he fully commits to it. His background makes him a very honest man, he sees little point in deception.  I feel as if he grew up in a tight-knit community, with neighbors like family, for he is fiercely protective of anything he perceives as 'family' within Aethertide, myself included. A part of me feels bad he has chosen to.  He sees the painted veil of Llinos Silvernail like everyone else.  He wants to believe I am the good woman living in a gilded cage.  He wants to believe I know nothing of the world he is a part of, so he gifts me kindness from it whenever he can.  He sees that I have sadness in me and imagines it is for my lot in life.  But it is not a cage I live in, but a fortress.  And everything he sees is my fortification.  It is not chains that weigh me down, but roots that run deep. We spoke of Sokhatai because of family.

He called me over to discuss his intent to start one with his wife, T'zeitel.  And I must admit, at first the news made me...concerned. Sokhatai's position in the company is as, well, a hired blade in Aegis. It's a job that has danger in the description.  Well, not literally, they dress it up with fancy words like 'protectors' and it sounds very noble and necessary - and believe me, there's no one more appreciative of an able protector than me.  But I have to wonder how does one cope with the idea of having both a child...and a job that requires you to directly put yourself between someone else and harm?  It would hurt my heart to think of it, but above all it doesn't seem...practical. But he and T'zeitel both fight side by side.  They're both from the same social standing.  Their lives are only improved by a union.  They’re more likely to survive with each other than without. "Happiness," my grandmama said.  "They are free to chase it, as far as their legs may carry them." We all chase after happiness, I said to her. "But theirs is uncomplicated, simple.  They can afford to do it with reckless abandon, we cannot.  They start with little and reach for their fulfillment, guided by the whims that bring them closer to happiness.   Their purpose becomes clear to them much later than ours." Indeed.  We start off with so much to lose, we learn instead how to guard ourselves, protect what we have so our future remains secure.   That is the happiness we are taught to seek.  They start off with nothing to lose, everything to gain.  We start off with everything to lose. "Are you envious, Llinos?  Do you regret what you were adopted into?"   Grandmama looked at me with her clouded emerald eyes.  Her expression was a veil of hidden expectations.  She knew my answer already, but she asked to see how I would respond.  "Do you yearn for something simple and good?" "No," I said easily, truthfully.  To say otherwise would be to call my family a burden.  To say otherwise would be to admit to a cowardice I had not felt for some time.  It would suggest I thought myself made for something so simple...when I never believed that.  "To quote from the poets, ‘I am a woman not to be brutalized by love.  I am generations of blood and fire.  I am all war."  Something violent, brutal and ugly is howling inside me and I shall act like it, my mind finished the end of the poem I chose to leave it out, knowing well grandmama already had a distaste for most poetry in general.  All the same, I felt a closeness to those even those words.  I did not feel like a woman like me was meant for what Sokhatai described as his happiness.  Not because I didn’t deserve it - though I could argue that case, too - it just wasn’t who I was...not at this moment, maybe not ever. Grandmama gave a light scoff at my words, folding out her fan and fluttering it in her annoyance.  "You always did read such vulgar poetry." "I find them to convey a certain Ala Mhigan quality, like me, grandmama.  Words are the skin we wear, so we must choose them wisely." "Be careful you don't bare yourself too much then," she gave a roll of her eyes, but I could see she was hiding her satisfaction behind the fluttering of her fan.  It is not in grandmama's nature to praise too highly.  "You truly don't yearn for even a part of it?  That sounds unromantic of you, Llinos..."  Grandmama looked out the window to the golden world below, feigning light interest, but her voice was soft, pensive.  This time she truly was curious. "On the contrary, grandmama, I am nothing but romantic.  Romance isn't all sugary sweetness, it is dark and tormented---" "'--the furor of passion, the despair of an idealism that you can't attain,'" Grandmama finished.  "That was the first poem I read to you.  Why do you cling to these silly verses of yours?"  She turned her gaze to me again as she snapped her fan shut. "Because they show me my path is not one I have to forge anew.  Others have walked it, survived it, accepted it.  I feel like my feet can slip into the imprints of others and it is soothing." Idealism.  It's something I share with the common man, but I cling to a different sort.  Not an idealism of a life of love and many children.   An idealism that I can save my family, that I can shield us if I'm careful enough. Grandmama's eyes still watched me.  "You hide behind your poetry.  I want your words, Llinos." I gave it thought.  "If love is all the virtues they say it is: patient and kind, if it isn't envious or self-seeking or proud, if it is trusting, hopeful and persevering...I don't know if I can see it in myself just yet for anything but my own ambitions." I don't know what grandmama made of that.  She just gave a slow nod then and went back to fanning herself as she gazed out the window.   "This is what makes us so different, Llinos."  She said quietly and distantly. I felt this difference she spoke of as she said it, this wall that kept everyone else from understanding me.  My ambition was as a moat to my fortress preventing anyone from crossing. . . . I wonder, sometimes, about my guardsman, Quintos.  Is he like Sokhatai, longing for that love of wife and family?  They're both men quick to make up their minds, fighters, honest to a fault... Quintos pretends at flirtation with me, but I wonder if he does it out of loneliness rather than just trying to see if a blush or a sharp word elicited from me might one day weaken my resolve? He wastes his time, but I wonder...if I'm wasting his time, too.  He doesn't get much time to look for his future, he's spending it vowing his life to protect mine.  For gil, of course, but... He should not waste his time grasping at the illusion he wishes to see. It will only hurt him, as reaching blindly often does.  If what he longs for is wife and children... I wonder because I'm not so cruel as to stop him from it, it would be a poor way to pay his loyalty. Or perhaps because I need him to turn his attention elsewhere?

[veils-and-hearts]

yes

“He thinks I’m at prayer,” Llinos gave a light snort as she set her emptied glass of wine down.  “Or, more precisely, that I needed to go to the Shroud to re-commune with the Elementals to strengthen my Conjury.  Since I am so weak with Aether Sickness, it is not uncommon or unheard of for me to need such retreats now and then.” Wemrys offered to pour her a fresh glass but she waved the bottle away.  They had moved to the floor, where they sat on furs before the fireplace.  It happened naturally, as if the pair of them were back in their earlier years of traveling, sitting by the campfire at the end of long day’s journey. “Ye don’t think ye were followed?” Wemrys asked with concern. “Oh I’m sure I was, but I went where I said I was going.  And then I teleported.”  Llinos gave a lopsided grin, the bruise on her cheek still making it somewhat difficult to fully express amusement, but Wemrys laughed for her and for a moment Llinos almost forgot how scared she’d been, how hopeless the situation was for the pair of them.  But as her smile started to fade and his laughter died down, she felt reality slowly crush its foot against her stomach.  She felt herself diminish in it.

“Quintos…” She spoke softly under the weight of the settling gloom.  “After this, you accept I have to go back to him.  To Sal.”  She glanced at him, watching him with breath held.  “I don’t want you to do anything foolish.” “Aye, Silvernail.”  His lips fell in a frown.  “I’m hardly in a position t’ do anythin’ foolish.  I can’t very well kill ‘im as that’ll jus’ look bad an ye.”  As he glanced over at her, a light spark of mischief renewed itself.  “Maybe if I’d been born inta wealth like ‘im this’d all be different.” “It takes more than wealth.  You need influence, too.  You can be as rich as the Sultana, but without the right connections…it goes to waste.”  Llinos glanced back at Wemrys, returning his mischief with a soft smile before she looked away in thought.  “I wasn’t born into wealth, I was adopted.  And Sal’s father made himself what he is, not too unlike the fighters that rise to prominence in the Bloodsands.  Except his arena was commerce and he became a champion of industry, or what we call a ‘merchant prince.’” Wemrys’s expression fell thoughtful. Llinos fought the impulse to make a remark on it.  Instead, she let him give voice to his thoughts, listening intently. “So maybe one needs a li’l luck, then.” He seemed to be debating something in his mind, but Llinos couldn’t read it.  Instead, she continued from where he left off. “Sometimes it’s luck.  Sometimes it’s just a matter of determination and recognizing opportunity. There were many times in my own path I could only fight to hold on, to find a foothold.  They don’t just hand it to you when you become wealthy, you know.  Especially if you’re a foreigner.”  She gave a frown at that, thinking, Especially if you’ve undesirable ties.  “You’ve seen it, I don’t need to explain,” she gave a dismissive wave to the notion, continuing by switching the focus.  “But take yourself, where would you be if you hadn’t recognized the opportunity you saw when you first met me?  It’s been a constructive experience, hasn’t it?  And I know it’s been lucrative, you’ve gil enough to spare…maybe not enough to be as rich as a Sultan, but enough to rent nostalgic, little cottages like this one, hm?”  She arched her brow at him.  “Though, I suppose you might think there’s got to be more to it than opportunity. And you’re right, there usually is. You need to know how to invest in your future, and to do that you need to want something enough to learn and grow into the person you need to be to achieve it.  The result isn’t always pleasant…as you see with Sal.  But when it comes to paying a price, only you can decide what it’s worth.”  Llinos looked up at the ceiling, resting back on her hands.  She couldn’t say whether her own path was worth it, she used to be certain but she’d finally come far enough to be lost in her own dark economics. Wemrys for his part was lost in his own thought.  “Opportunity…”  He considered the word, lifting his head this way and that.  Llinos wondered what was rattling around in his mind that kept him so distracted, but he finally snapped out of it, asking her, “Silvernail, a good investment can buy influence, can it?  Ye said e’en Bloodsands fighters managed it, like the Bull.  An’ investment, a reputation, determination…opportunity.  The Flame General bought the Colisseum and thus a seat on th’ Syndicate.”  His eyes were lost in the picture in his mind. Llinos watched with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.  “I doubt I’d e’er be able ta manage summat tha’ big…but,” he paused, his gaze falling from the image in his mind to the woman across from him.  “If I e’er did summat like tha’, if I had achieved all tha’, a reputation, influence, wealth…like th’ Flame General…woul’ ye ‘ave considered me a fittin’ suitor…?” “Yes,” she said without hesitation, without thought.  The word slipped from her so earnestly, so naked, that she surprised herself.  Had she gotten lost in the picture he was painting as well?  She felt her face heat in embarrassment.  She wasn’t Laena.  Wemrys wasn’t some gallant knight going to save her with fairy tales.  It wasn’t their reality.  “That is,” she added quickly.  “I would be obligated to give your proposal for courtship due consideration were you to offer it.  Under the circumstances.”  She licked her lips, they had suddenly felt dry.  She suddenly felt an urge to look anywhere and wishing she’d allowed her wine glass to be refilled. Wemrys, from what she could spy from stolen glances, looked like he hadn’t heard anything past ‘yes.’  He stayed frozen, eyes widened, long enough to make Llinos’s embarrassment unbearable.  He then reached for his wine glass, holding it just before his lips.  “I…uh..well.”  Llinos could have screamed at how ineloquent he was.  He probably realized he’d pushed the question too far and regretted committing to it.  Wemrys was not one to be pinned down, after all.  He just liked asking, pressing his luck, to get a rise out of her or to catch her off-guard, to admit to things…things she shouldn’t.  He likely expected the usual denial, the kind that allowed them to fight as they usually did. The moment was ruined.  She could always blame the wine and circumstances… “Well,” he repeated the damnable word after a deep drink.  “Tha’s useful information t’ have.”  And then he leaned forward.  His hand moved to the back of her head, pressing gently, and he brought his lips to hers. And she leaned herself into it, letting her lips meet his.  They could always blame the wine and circumstances for where all other thoughts went.

[veils-and-hearts]

Promised

“Ye promised.” Some promises had to be broken.  An idealist would tell you that we have to keep our words for them to mean anything, but a pragmatist knew that you had to prepare for ‘acceptable losses.’  Llinos hated that term, but she learned to hate it because it was true. “I’m sorry.  It’s too late to honor that promise, Quintos.  Why would you pick now of all times to have me honor it?” Wemrys was unfazed by the question and the rejection.  It was in his nature to meet a challenge, to fight.  Llinos thought of Sal’s words, it being the ‘common’ in their veins that always had them battle-hungry.  She might have agreed with Sal’s assessment, but she was starting to see with the Lominsan that it wasn’t always about blood or glory that he chose to fight…not with her. His motivation was not something one could call common…no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise.

“Now’s th’ only time, Silvernail.  Already ye take pains t’ avoid me an’ ev’ryone. Maybe it’s too late t’ stop anythin’. Maybe I can’t do a bloody thing but what ye pay me t’ do…but I can make ye honor yer word.  I can ‘ave ye give me a chance.”  He stepped forward, the metal of his armored boots clicking against the marble.  It almost reminded Llinos of Sal’s guard and when Wemrys got to near, she flinched reflexively.  This made the man halt and tilt his head.  “Silvernail?” “What chance are you hoping you can get?” She ignored his concern, shaking her head and casting her gaze away from his, to hide her own anguish.  But it was to no avail, it was felt in her tone, meant to convey only annoyance, there was a tremble to it.  She was thankful her veil hid the rest of her. “Any chance,” he answered quietly.  She couldn’t tell if that was shyness or more of his concern.  “Any chance t’ get ye t’ talk t’me like ye used t’.  T’ tell me what’s happening, t’ let me…help ye.” “You can’t help me.  What you propose is a momentary reprieve from what you see as me in distress.  There is no reprieve.  It’s a done deal, the contract is signed, there is no undoing it.”  She lowered her voice too, to keep her emotion in check, but her words were too sharp.  Too angry. “Distraction only makes the reality of it all worse.  Even if I wanted to take you up on it, I’d only make things worse.” “I’ve never known ye t’ run, Silvernail. Wha’ happened t’ ye?”  His surprise was mingled with a building frustration, but she could tell it wasn’t directed at her.   “Nothing you need concern yourself with,” and with that she tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let it end there.  He moved to stand in front of her. “Why?  Yer interests are me concern.  It’s in me own bloody contract.  What’s he got o’er ye?  Why’s he makin’ ye wear this—” “No, please!” He reached for her veil and she quickly slapped his hand away, her silver eyes snapped wide with fear.  Her heart was beating in her throat.  She’d tipped her hand more than she meant to. Wemrys looked at her with his brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concern.  His lips started to move, but she decided to cut him off before. “If I do, will you promise to leave me be? Will you stop asking questions, will you just do your job?”  She raised her gaze to meet his.  She couldn’t hide the pain they held, but she narrowed them in hard determination.  “The job that just requires you to keep me safe so you may deliver me to my groom?  Will you promise?” She had no choice, he was only going to push and less control she had over the situation, the more likely Wemrys was going to get himself killed trying to uncover it.  Sal was already wary of her Lominsan guardsman, he needed very little reason to have his life ruined…or ended.  The question was, could Llinos stop it from happening?  No matter what she did, she was putting them both in a precarious situation.  Still, if she did nothing… The only way to keep the situation from boiling over was to mind it herself.  She’d come up with excuses for Sal, she’d quell Wemrys’s fears…somehow. Somehow, she’d stop it all from spiraling out of her control any more than it was.  She could improvise a little more. She wouldn’t dare hope for more than that.

 Wemrys stared back.  She watched the defiance flicker and flame in his one green eye, that strong jaw of his set. He wanted to press her further, he wouldn’t accept these terms.  But in the pause that lingered, she saw him working out the situation.  Whatever it was he wanted, he’d only get it if he agreed to the current terms.  He’d fought enough battles to know when to retreat and regroup.  She saw his jaw relax, the defiance fade into wisps and smoke. “If tha’s th’ only way.  An’ if at th’ end o’ it all, tha’s wha’ ye want, Silvernail…” “It is. And it will be.” She caught the look he gave her at her sharp and too-certain response.  He aimed to changed it, he would fight again. “We’ll meet by th’ same lake as b’fore, aye?” Wemrys gave one of his roguish smirks at that.  It was that and his words that caught Llinos off guard.  She glanced away, trying not to let him see her recollection of what he spoke of, when he’d won their bet and learned secrets, thoughts and wishes she longed kept hidden.  Where he’d earned her true name, Laena. “An’ wear a white dress like ye had on b’fore. It looked nice.”  He was enjoying this.  His grin had spread and he’d begun to walk off, having savored enough of her demure silence. But before he left he turned to add, “An’ no veil.  Ye promised, Silvernail.” Llinos stuttered, but he was gone.  Her hands went to her veil, fingers pressing over the cuts and bruises still there, hidden.  She was not certain she could keep that promise.

  A part of her wanted to, though.  Just like a small part of her hoped maybe there was a better way out of this, that Wemrys might truly be able to…

No, what was she doing?  Distractions and daydreams only made the reality of it all worse.  Sal showed her that for every tug she made to get away, he tugged back sharper.  She didn’t dare hope for more than keeping everyone else out of harm’s way.  That’s all, she told herself as she closed her eyes and turned to walk away.  That’s all I need focus on.  No one else need know suffering as you knew it, she heard Sal’s words say.

[veils-and-hearts]

A wall

The slap came, the surprise of it stinging sharper than the pain itself.  Llinos held her cheek with one hand against the throbbing, her other arm reached out to catch herself as she fell against the cold stone of the wall behind her.  Her eyes were watering.  She couldn’t tell if it was the force of the blow or the surge of panic and fury inside her chest.  Maybe it was all of it.  Her breath came out trembling, but she allowed herself time to stand straight before scowling back at the man.

“How dare you?!”  Her jaw tightened, her chin tilted defiantly. “I am a woman of gentle upbringing—”

“On paper, yes, that is what you are, Llinos.”  Sal answered with venom as he spoke her name.  He carefully put his glove back over his hand after he’d cleaned it. Llinos tasted the blood on her lips. He continued, “You are not truly highborn, though, are you?  Neither of your parents have noble lineage, unlike me, so I suppose that accounts for your shamelessness and deceit.  A good education cannot completely make a lady, can it?”

  “And yet I’m the one with a title and respect, aren’t I, Sal?  How that must rankle you…”  Llinos felt like meeting his venom with her own; it gave her some satisfaction to see his lip twitch in response.

“And yet you have more enemies than I have, Llinos.  As they say, bad blood will out, won’t it?  Were you a proper noble, that wouldn’t be the case.  But we are digressing…”

  “Are we?”  Llinos wiped at the blood on her lip with the back of her palm.  “You were feeling threatened by me, I’d say we’re still talking about the same thing…”

  “Silence!”  In one movement, the glove was off and he was about to strike her again, but Llinos didn’t flinch, she closed her eyes to take it…but the second strike never came.  She opened her eyes and his hand cupped her chin tightly, forcefully tugging her forward. “You like a fight, don’t you, Llinos? That common blood…it craves to act like the beast it is.”

  “Then maybe you ought to be wary of provoking me, Sal?”  She narrowed her eyes, lowering her tone to a slow and deliberate whisper.  “Beware of false nobles, who walk in noble dress, but inwardly they are ravening wolves…”

  He thrust her back with another disgusted snarl to his lips.  Llinos laughed.  “You are pathetic, Sal.  You’ve common blood in your veins, too, same as me.  Your father only raised his family to lofty heights.  We’re no different—”

  He seized her throat, cutting off the words.  “We’re not the same.”  His eyes were hard but he kept his voice calm and even, as if there was a limit to how much he would allow Llinos to affect him.  “My father came from a good family and rose it higher.  Yours?  Yours are the dogs Garlemald kicked back into the grime they came from.”  He pressed her back against the cold stone wall, his fingers sinking deeper into her skin.  She could only choke for air helplessly in reply.  Then he released her, satisfied of the display.

  Llinos coughed and gasped, slumping wearily against the wall as her own hand nursed at the soreness around her neck.  Through watery eyes, she glared at the back of Sal.  “So…you’re going to beat me like a dog whenever I displease you?  To keep me in line?  Whenever I ask questions you don’t like?”  She gave a weak snort as she slowly straightened again, her hand dropping away as she moved forward towards the man.  “Do you think pain dissuades me?  Do you think I’ll bother hiding this to others for you?”  She gave a raspy laugh.  “I can’t wait to be asked, to tell them what a monster you are and have them start wondering—”

  “You’re right, Llinos.” Sal fussed with his gloves again, undisturbed by the woman’s reaction.  “You are shameless in your ambition, you lack the propriety a lady of true noble bearing would have.  Pain, bearing it to learn your mistakes, does not work with you.  Suffering quietly in grace and dignity does not suit your common tastes.  You’d rather scream and make a display of yourself.  You were born a child of suffering, so what does more mean to you?” Sal walked to the door of the room and knocked on it, which Llinos thought strange until it opened.

  Suddenly, a young servant nervously walked in followed by one of Sal’s household guard.  The guard was a Highlander like Sal, towering in his Thavnairian armor, but the boy was a young Midlander.  He couldn’t have been more than twelve summers.  Llinos looked to the boy in confusion but the strangeness was only mounting a knot of dread in her stomach, a dread she couldn’t explain but she felt imminent.

  “M’lord?”  The boy bowed to Sal, his wide brown eyes straying to Llinos as he took in her features, the dried blood at her lips.

  “Do they have whipping boys in your homeland, Llinos?”  Sal pulled off his glove and handed it to the boy, who accepted it with confusion.

  Llinos felt her mouth go dry.  “Some…households in Ul’dah do…”

  “Then I do not have to explain any further.”  And with that he punched the young boy in the stomach.  He let out a quiet yelp, but it was swallowed by his coughs for air, the wetness of blood.

  “STOP!”  Llinos cried.  She rushed forward, only to find the arms of the guard wrapping around her to hold her back.

  Sal did not relent, slapping and punching the boy each time he rose.  The boy kept his whimpering soft, perhaps hoping it would keep the beating from getting harder.  Llinos eventually stopped her struggling after a while, letting her horror and disgust carry on quietly.  Quietly in dignity and grace, just as Sal wanted.

  Sal finished off his demonstration with a kick that sent the young boy to the ground and he remained there, curled up, quietly nursing his pain through soft cries.  Perhaps he couldn’t get up, Llinos mused.  She’d thought she’d heard a crack as Sal’s boot met with his ribs.  Sal only stopped because he saw Llinos fall silent and still.  This made him grin in delight at her, as if she’d just learned a new trick.

  “There, that’s what I like to see…”  He turned to walk towards her, reaching out his hand to gently touch her cheek.  She fought the impulse bite those vile fingers, fought the urge to flinch.  She remained still and quiet as stone.

  “You will wear your veil to cover your indiscretions and you will take care to handle yourself like the woman who is to be my wife, a proper lady.  Even though you are not.”  From his sleeve, he procured a veil and helped secure it on Llinos while the guard held her in place.  Llinos had no intention of moving.

  Sal leaned close after the veil was secure, whispering calmly to her, as he stroked her curls. “Do all this, Llinos, and no one else need know suffering as you knew it.  Just because you are immune does not mean others are.”  He pulled away to grin at her as if he and her had just shared a bonding experience.  In his mind, that’s probably how it was…she now understood him, and he now understood her.

  “I’ll give you a moment longer to collect yourself.  We can’t have you distant at dinner, my father is to arrive.”  Sal turned to the guard holding Llinos.  “Escort her to her quarters.”

  The arms fell away from her and she found herself numbly walking to her room.  This time it would be that little boy, he was saying, next time...it could be someone else.  She felt the cold stone of the wall as if she’d been knocked back against it.

[veils-and-hearts]

Vipers

She would not be beaten. 

 “Strange, isn’t it?”  Llinos mused aloud as she flipped through some pages of a dusty old tome labeled ‘Advanced Thavnairian Alchemy.’  “Sal said his last wife was strong but suddenly turned frail as a fever overtook her. Her medical history paints the picture of a perfectly healthy woman.  So naturally, as a medical professional I was curious as to what mysterious ailment struck. But when I checked the records there was no conclusive autopsy.  In fact, the paperwork was…rather lacking.  It reminded me of some of the rushed-jobs you’d find at the Burial Chamber near the Ossuary.”  Llinos looked up from her pages to look over at the Dowager, Kikio Kio.  “Strange, isn’t it?”  She repeated before elaborating further, “You’d normally find that with the peasant-folk they don’t wish to waste their time on…or with the wealthy when there’s something that needs hiding.”

 Kikio Kio closed her own dusty tome and took a moment to clean her spectacles with a silk kerchief.  “No one close to the late Lady Parvana could disclose what made her take ill according to my sources.  She just ‘suddenly turned sickly.’  Her symptoms sound right for a sudden fever…or a sudden poisoning.”

  “But the trail ends right where it starts,” Llinos frowned as she rested her cheek into her palm, eschewing the veil Sal had bade her wear.  She idly folded the corner of a page that seemed promising for later.  “The Durands are in the alchemy business, they don’t need to go far to acquire anything they might need for a proper poisoning.  So tracing where it came from – assuming we can even confirm there were toxins in her system – would be hard to pick up.  They wouldn’t have needed to go through any channels to acquire anything…they are the channels.”

 “What we need is motive, my dear.”  Kikio Kio looked up at Llinos quietly, tucking her spectacles away in a breast pocket. “A good reason for anyone to suspect foul play.”

 “But no one will speak on any arguments the couple had prior to her falling ill. Their servants are loyal and protective, asking around even a little already made them wary enough of me.”  Llinos sank into an unladylike slouch, running her hands through her curls in strained thought.  She didn’t like this, feeling like she was outmaneuvered when the answer was so clear in sight. But Sal’s crime took place in Thavnair, Sal’s own territory.  It was like maneuvering a labyrinth of hints and Sal kept moving the walls.  His servants were the biggest obstacle, they had been loyal to him for years and she had no means to motivate them otherwise. She had to find a weakness somewhere…but where?

 “Maybe there weren’t any arguments,” Kikio Kio mused, tapping a ringed finger to her ample cheek.  “Maybe there were other reasons to be rid of her?”

 Llinos narrowed her eyes in thought.  Yes, Sal would be the sort to manipulate a situation to minimize the question of motive. If no one ever saw him and his wife as anything but a young, happy and tragic couple, who would go digging deeper? Who would tolerate an outsider like Llinos poking her nose into places she ought to leave alone out of respect? She sat up slowly, giving voice to her trail of thought.  “…He was married to her only a short while…would there be a reason to suddenly need to be married and then…not?”

 “Perhaps she had something he needed that he could only obtain through marriage, but it wasn’t enough to encourage him to stay married?  He’s quite handy at crafting a contract, maybe he obtained something substantial after? And then perhaps he needed to be available for a new wife that would grant him further boons towards his goals?” Kikio Kio fell quiet to a pause as her own words sunk in, her gaze shifting from Llinos and becoming distant to her thoughts.

 Llinos stretched the silence with her own, a cold dread knotting in her stomach that she silently tolerated before pulling her book to her chest.  The feelings and fears between the two women was the same: If Sal could dispose of one wife so easily, what would he do to Llinos when he no longer had need of her? Llinos cleared her throat and rose from her seat.  “We’ll need to find a way to check his financial records, his contract with Lady Parvana, and any other assets he may have obtained since their marriage and his being widowed.  I may need to hire from the outside to handle such sensitive information.  I fear he’s already getting word from his servants about my asking questions…”

 “Do be careful with this man, Llinos.”  Kikio Kio’s tone fell even softer, her green, hazy eyes looking worn with worry.  Her lips moved as if to try to issue further advice, but what more could she say?  After a few muted syllables, the old lalafell sighed.

 “Don’t worry, grandmama.  He and I are, at least, well matched in our own ambition if nothing else.  And for people like us, what great weapon is there than ambition, hm?”  Llinos lifted her chin, arms tightening over the book that was pressed to her chest. She passed the Dowager a small, if tight, grin.  “We both had to fight for our place, we both know where to place our eyes, our ears and our poisons.  We are both at home in a nest of vipers.  The only question is whose strike is deadlier?  Fear not, grandmama, you’ve taught me well enough to survive.  It won’t be this desperate man that undoes me!” Her tone was sure and even, but her steps were hurried as she left the library, the door that closed shut behind her a little too loud.

 Kikio Kio sighed and pushed out of her chair, leaning heavily on her jeweled cane, feeling so much more worn and older than she was.  “Surviving the viper's nest is not the same as living in it. Despite your best efforts, my dear…you never became a viper yourself.”

[veils-and-hearts]

Anxieties

When Llinos Silvernail returned to Aethertide, she wondered how she would handle herself.  She didn’t have to keep her arrangement a secret, but she had to be careful how she presented it as the matter was still pending.  But for all intents and purposes, it was nearly settled.  Did she say something to certain people?  There were some who could be discrete and yet whomever she told it had to be someone there would be a point in telling such a thing to.

As she sat in her chambers in Alysia Fairwind’s company, being welcomed back amiably, speaking of all number of things.  She felt an urge to say something of what happened in Ul’dah…but what would the purpose be to tell her she was nearly engaged?  It wasn’t news, not yet.  And even if the woman would be interested in hearing about what nearly was to be, if she could be a confidante to share such passing thoughts with, what would Llinos want out of it?  Was she wanting to share her excitement?   Her worries?  Discussing either would only expose someone to the uncertainty of her feelings and she couldn’t look that way.  It would be the same with anyone else in Aethertide.  They would ask her questions about it and she’d be expected to respond a certain way.  She could always pretend, she knew a number of different expression with which to satisfy…but what would be the point in that?  If she couldn’t be honest about it, it was better to say nothing.  She still didn’t know Sal very well and while that was perfectly normal for some noble families, most of Aethertide was not nobility and therefore would not understand. Wemrys Quintos certainly wouldn’t.  No matter how many times she tried to tell him, he could not accept the way she talked of herself like she was a commodity.  Or that she could find such a thing satisfactory.  But why shouldn’t she if it was her choice to go this route?  Was he any better?  He sold himself to her as a sellsword, vowing to die if it was necessary.  He too treated himself as a commodity when it suited him.   Was that any different?  The man was half-blind in so many ways… And then there was Maple and Sindri.  She didn’t know what she would say, how they would look at her.  They always trusted her to do what was right, or they at least always said as much, but sometimes their eyes said different things.  At their age, she’d have wanted the fairy tale ending too, she’d have still believed in it, and Llinos couldn’t help but wonder if she was forcing her children watch it die right in front of them. But it could be better than we expected, she thought to herself as she restlessly paced her room after Alysia left.  Maybe she could console her children with that?  It consoled her…somewhat.  She didn’t know Sal, but she could grow into her feelings.  He mentioned wanting to himself.  And yet, she knew that wouldn’t be enough for Maple and Sindri.  She knew what they’d think, about how things could have been.  Well, maybe it was better that they learn some things just have to work out differently?  Maybe they could learn to put their optimism elsewhere like she had to?  Gods…but she never wanted them to turn out like her. Her anxieties distracted her all that day and the next.  To the point where she avoided meeting with too many people.  She met with Eduard, Violet and Khyran to be on hand for their discrete procedure but she said little, her mind mulling back and forth when not focused on her work.  She had an opportunity to meet with Wemrys, her children…but she told herself she needed just a little more time.  Maybe in a day or two, Sal would get back to her with news?  But was she really going to be able to avoid them for that long after making her return?  Well, Rosalin had made mention she should still rest and not be overwhelmed to the staff, perhaps people would give her time out of their own desire? When Sal called her to meet with him at his nearby La Noscean residence after having returned speedily from his return trip home, Llinos’s heart raced as she made her way to his estate, wondering if perhaps he’d heard word already.  If perhaps she would have her answer that would make moving forward easier.  But it turned out to not be the case.  In fact, the deliberation over whether her agreement to marry Sal if he was declared heir would strengthen his position was going to take longer than expected, he’d told her. “My father is very ill and needs his rest.  Meanwhile his lawyers and advisors are…well, rather bureaucratic.  I am competing against other next of kin who are distant but legitimate and so this will take some time.  But it is in consideration.”  Sal handed Llinos a cup of wine as they stood before the fire in his immense drawing room.  He was ever his usual hopeful self but she could hear the apology in his tone. “Well, thank you for informing me,” she gave a sigh before taking a sip.  “But, this could have been expressed in a letter or something.  I rushed over here because I thought—“ “I apologize for giving you false alarm.”  Sal stepped forward, reaching his hand to touch at her cheek.  A gestured that surprised Llinos anew for its forwardness, but knowing he was simply trying to initiate an attempt to be closer, she did not pull away.  She rose her gaze to meet his in response.  He smiled and continued.   “When I saw that this would take much longer than either of us hoped, all I could think of was that I didn’t want you to grow weary and forget about me…forget about my promise to try and make you happy, to give you a true courtship.  We are not officially engaged, but I see myself as yours and I do not wish you to forget.” “So, when your business concluded you returned to be nearer to me?”   Llinos found her tone genuinely surprised.  She’d known more suitors to conduct all their business - courtship included - from afar if they could help it.  Usually they just sent her gifts, tokens of their affections and desires. “I hope you do not mind, I just grew anxious.”  Sal smiled sheepishly, suddenly looking younger and more boyish as he glanced away.  “I said I had loved before.  I know we do not know each other well yet, but I still find myself feeling anxieties over what to make of this.  What to tell others.  I realize it is because this has so many possibilities in how it could go, it could also change a lot for us both and there I was in Thavnair trying to resolve these feelings all by myself when I should have been doing so with you.  You’re the only other person who might understand after all, considering we’re in the same position.  If I have to move forward confidently, shouldn’t I do so with you at my side?  Besides,” That sheepish grin turned mischievous.  “It was an extra excuse to be near you again.  I admit I feel an anxiety when I think of you, because I want to know you more, Lady Llinos..” Llinos found herself genuinely in awe at her own confusion of emotions. She didn’t know how to feel, but was beginning to wonder.  Perhaps Sal had a point, perhaps her anxieties would be better dealt with him helping her.  What he described echoed her own anxieties, it was almost a relief to hear she was not alone in them.  He was older, experienced, perhaps he knew more what he was doing than she did…how foolish of her to not think of it before. And yet there was something still that kept her uncertain.  She couldn’t place what it was.  She frowned at herself, eyes lowering away from his.  “I can barely keep my mind in one place since signing that document, I just feel so anxious to know what will come of it.  I feel like I can’t commit myself to one feeling until I know for certain and it makes me feel so…listless.  I’m afraid I’ll be rather dull company for you, Sal.” “Perhaps you need a distraction?  Something to be involved in that makes you get comfortable with the idea?  Something, perhaps, to help you get involved more with the Durands and bring you closer?” Llinos thought the idea over for a moment.  “…well, I had a thought, that maybe I could throw a faire near your father’s home?  Something in his name.  We can give affiliated connections a chance to market themselves in the revelry, through my coordination they could get to know me…but above all I could get to know your family, too.  Maybe your younger relatives could play with my own Maple and Sindri—“ “You have a beautiful heart under that cutthroat I saw at the business table,” he smiled at her softly. And she returned his smile.  “Or maybe I know the value of family as much as I understand the value of good business?” “We could plan such a thing, however…it would have to be made clear to the advisors that Sindri and Maple would not be our heirs.  Otherwise, well, we wouldn’t want that complication affecting us…or them.”  He added that last part quickly, regret for having to bring up the matter making him wince slightly. Llinos took no offense to it.  If there was anyone who understood how uncomfortable yet necessary such a conversation was, it was someone who spent his whole life in the shadow of illegitimacy.  He knew as well as Llinos did how uncertain claims could breed enemies and unwanted attention.  He was not being malicious or snobbish, he was verifying their protection.  Unlike her and Sal, Maple and Sindri had no desire for more than what they had.  Maple and Sindri didn’t need a target on their back, nor did they need to be considered as part of the same game Llinos and Sal were playing.  Giving them their own separate inheritance kept them safe.  The matter had been discussed earlier with Sal before she finally agreed to sign the contract, they knew where each other stood.  “They will always be Silvernails and you can bet that’s how they’d prefer it.”  She said in firm agreement. “Good, they are quite blessed in that regard.”  Sal smiled again, but the furrow of his brow did not lift, indeed his concern stayed.  “But one more thing, Lady Llinos?”  His eyes scrutinized her face as if he were searching for something, but in a manner that gave Llinos a growing disquiet the longer he looked at her like that.