Sophia's birthday was still a week out when she called for a meeting of those she had wanted Lucien to contact. Varric's room in the Hanged Man was to be the setting. She'd had him move in some more reasonably sized chairs for them in the event that they wanted them, but the table was still a bit too low to actually be used. It didn't really matter. The point was that she needed a place to speak privately with them, and despite appearances, a backroom of the Hanged Man was one of the better places in Kirkwall to discuss in peace.
As far as she knew, all of Lucien's meetings had gone well enough, and all of the people she'd asked for would be in attendance at the party. There was still the matter of this other woman Lucien had decided to request the aid of. Sophia was uneasy allowing anyone she didn't trust to enter in on this agreement, but if Lucien trusted whoever it was, that would be enough for Sophia. The fact that her father's life was potentially on the line as well as her own was entirely why she was so nervous about this going well. The waking nightmare continued to plague her, long after the demon's magic had faded.
Sophia looked much better by now, if still a little harried. She was in armor again, hair loosely tied back, as she wasn't expecting any combat simply walking to Lowtown. Still, she was apparently making enemies as well as friends by attempting to do what was best for the city, so it couldn't hurt. The weight of it had grown comfortable. She'd been eating regularly again for the past few days, and the majority of her paleness had passed. She was her usual self again, if a little more stressed than normal.
She waited patiently at the head of Varric's table for the others to arrive. They'd only know what they were being invited to, and the reason they were there. She'd purposely saved the rest for this meeting, so that it could all be gone over once, when they were together, and could more effectively prepare. She glanced to the sword next to her, sheathed and propped up against the wall. She certainly wouldn't be able to bring that with her to the Keep's ballroom. Nor would she be able to wear the armor...
Well, she could, but she'd certainly look like quite the fool.
Lucien wound his way through Lowtown, the taciturn Qunari woman beside him. Heād expected to have to work a little harder to convince her to do this, but she had simply sat quietly for a moment after he outlined the specifications of the task to her, then nodded simply. āI will do it, if she allows it.ā Heād been quite tempted to ask after how the two were acquainted, as he had no knowledge of the connection, but he chose not to. With this one, silence was often the better choice, or at least the welcomed one. It was a drastic reversal from most of the people heād known, but comfortable enough for him, as his father had been the same, and his mother as well. It was the other side of things that was harder to navigate.
As sheād promised, Amalia had met him at his dwelling a few minutes ago, and now both progressed to the Hanged Man, both armored and armed to the teeth. Well, actually, he just had his axe and a belt-knife, but he was pretty sure the four visible knives on the Qunari were not the only ones she was carrying. Rilien was like that, too, and it was actually somewhat reassuring to note, given the job he was asking her to do. He wasnāt honestly sure if sheād accepted from the nature of the task itself, some lingering feeling of debt to him for the incident a year ago, or something else, but given that Ril was otherwise occupied, he knew of nobody more suited to it.
They entered the Hanged Man, and, as she was obviously unfamiliar, he led the way to the back room. As it was, his bulk initially obscured her from view, meaning that she was not visible until she had entered. āGood morning, Sophia,ā he greeted amicably, āYou look well.ā Unspoken was the obvious: she looked a great deal better than when he had last seen her. That would have to be conveyed in his small smile.
Amalia stepped cautiously into the room, clearly scanning it for security, sizing up potential exits. She took up a position on the wall near the door, but still close enough to the main part of the room to clearly be a part of the conversation. Propping the flat of one foot against the wall, she refrained from crossing her arms over her chest, as she was not here with hostile intentions and for once desired not to be perceived as such. Instead, she inclined her head slightly at the Viscountās eldest child. āSophia,ā she offered mildly, by way of greeting.
Sophia was a bit stunned at first when the Qunari woman she'd met while battling dragons walked through the door. She was actually tempted to laugh, just at the sheer ridiculousness. Or perhaps it was strangely fitting. That the Qunari would be protecting her and her father from the nobles, who seemed so greatly to desire the heathens gone from the city.
"Hello, Amalia," she said, unsure whether to smile or frown. She ended up doing neither. She'd want to speak with Amalia in private, and that could be done once the others had left, after she'd delivered her information. She trusted Lucien's choice, and she'd seen the woman in action herself, so her assistance would not be turned aside, but there a few things she needed to be certain that Amalia understood.
"And thank you, Lucien," she said, offering him a smile and a nod.
Judging from the sounds outside her room, Varricās was already filling up. With no particular need to arm herself for a ten-foot walk, Nostariel shrugged to herself and grabbed Oathkeeper anyway, Slinging the bow and a quiver over her shoulder. One could never be too careful in the Hanged Manāit tended to attract half the grudge matches in Kirkwall, and they didnāt always stay between the participants. Disabling and rearming her ward, the mage entered the room shortly after Amalia, recognizing the Qunari woman immediately and offering a bright smile. Sophia and Lucien were both already also here. Not quite as cautious as the trained assassin in the room, Nostariel took a seat, laying her arms on the low table.
āMorning, everyone. Itās good to see you.ā it had been a bit since sheād interacted with any of them, and sheād not seen Amalia since the Fade incident. That she was here was surely a good sign ofā¦ something, though Nostariel wasnāt exactly sure how sheād been brought into this adventure, so to speak.
Next on the list was Ashton and his plus one, Snuffy. Ever since Nostariel gave him the little puppy, had had been glued to her for the following couple of weeks. He hardly went anywhere without her, and fortunately she seemed to begin imprinting on him so she tended to follow him around when he wasn't doing anything important. Surely the scraps of deer he'd been sneaking her had nothing to do with that. He was currently in route to the Hanged Man, at the behest of Lucien. He thought it a huge tease inviting him to the Hanged Man, since he had decided to cut way back on his alcohol consumption. A blackout ending in marriage, and a grim heartfelt talk-to-talk tended to ward one off from the stuff.
Ashton himself was lightly armed, though he still wore his leathers-- but that was hardly surprising. He wore those every day. He'd left the shop in Lia's care, and with it his bow and quiver. He did have a skinning knife hidden away in his boots, but it was suicide to walk around Lowtown without some form of weaponry. It was moments before his legs brought him to the door of the hanged man, which he pushed past and into the establishment proper. He got a couple of strange looks, due in part to the dog in his arms, but nothing was said. Hell, a little bit of dog could only help the swill they called drink. Ashton danced past the patrons and headed to the back hall, and angled himself toward Varric's room. Upon his entrance he recongized several familiar faces.
And they were all armed for bear. He stood in the door way for a moment, looking from person to person and suddenly feeling under-dressed. "So... Where's the fight at? Wish someone would have told me we were marching into battle. I would have grabbed something more substantial than a piddly little knife," Ashton said, chuckling, though Snuffy whined. The idea of a fight didn't much appeal to her. Still, he took a seat at the table beside Nostariel, and leaned back, propping his feet on the table and letting Snuffy play in his lap.
"No fight," Sophia said, not in the best state of mind for any kind of humor, but her tone wasn't harsh or anything. "I just wanted to gather everyone and help you all know what to expect at the party." She raised an eyebrow slightly at the mabari puppy in his arms, but did not press him on it. The dog certainly wouldn't be allowed among the guests.
"I'll get to it, then," Sophia said, shifting slightly uncomfortably. The possible candidates who wanted her or her father's death were very many, especially when so many of them were so adept at hiding their motives, and their goals. It had taken her quite some time just to try and pick out a few who would be the most likely, as well as those who were simply the most prominent nobles at the celebration.
"You'll all be allowed entrance into the grand ballroom of the Viscount's Keep with the other guests. I can instruct the guards to allow you to pass with weapons, but they'll need to be hidden. I don't want armed guests, especially if you're to be moving among them. The guards on the perimeter and near my family will be enough, and I hardly trust them as it is." Even the captain had been corruptible, as she and Lucien had found out recently. How many of the lower ranking guardsmen were just as susceptible, she could not say.
"The party will consist of a feast, several speeches, I'm sure, gift giving... you need not bring a gift, I certainly won't mind. I would have preferred not to have the party at all, but Father insists." She shook her head. She had no doubt that some of them would still bring her some kind of gift. Well... it would be sort of expected of Lucien, given how he was arriving with her. "It will be pretty unorganized, but a group dance will end the festivities. Until then, we'll simply have to put up with the city's nobles."
No easy task, certainly. Sophia was not fond of some of them, as she was about to go over. "Lucien will be arriving with me as my escort, and stay with me throughout the party. Nostariel, Ashton, I'd like you to mainly move through the guests, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and perhaps talk to a few of them, see if you can find anything out. Amalia can keep watch over things from a distance, and intervene if she sees anything."
Ashton nudged Nostariel's arm at the mention of a group dance, but otherwise kept silently until the end. Even then, he prolonged the silence a bit further to ensure that no one else had any other, more pertinant questions before asking his. "Are you always so particular over your birthdays? And should we be looking for anything specific?" Surely if she displayed such decorum with other matters, she was bound to be a barrel of fun-- He decided not to press too hard though, as clearly she wasn't in the mood for it. Besides, everyone was armed but him. He would definitely like to leave in the same shape he arrived.
"Oh, and would you like anything particular for your birthday?" Ashton added. A hint would be nice, though he could always figure something out. He did think he was good at giving gifts, after all.
Sophia couldn't help but sigh at the man. "You're all going out of your way for me as it is. That in of itself is a gift. I don't need anything more than that, really." Really, she trusted Ashton to have a good heart, but his occasional inability to take things seriously was trying sometimes. "There's several people I'd like you to talk with at some point, to see what you can get out of them."
"First would be the Arren family, particularly Jorah Arren and his son, Jamie. The Arren family was one of the ones closely considered to inherit the Keep, but my father received it instead, and it surprised many. They remain one of the most powerful and influential families in the city. They've never been very supportive of my father's rule, but Jorah has tried on several occasions to bind our families by trying to match me with Jamie. I have resisted this notion, as you can see." She wondered what he'd think when Lucien of all people walked in with her. Jamie had always been the most charming of her suitors, but he was a fool to think charm was what she was searching for.
"The Lady Miranda Threnhold is the second. If you recognize the name, you'll know that she's the only living member of the Threnhold family left. Her father was the Viscount of Kirkwall until he crossed the Templar Order. Miranda is his daughter. In all the time I've known her, she's shrewd, cold, and intelligent, and she's none too subtle about her dislike for me and my family. I don't know if she feels that she should be Viscountess now or not, but she's certainly smart enough to be able to put together a plan for it. I had thought assassination to be a place she wouldn't go, but I may very well be wrong." She was still quite wealthy, as she had been too young to be implicated in her father's revolt, and considering that she'd hadn't committed any crime, there was little reason to not allow her to inherit what her father left behind. Apart from the leadership of Kirkwall, of course.
"The wealthiest family in the city is without a doubt the Tarkins. I believe only the twins will be in attendance, that's Damian and Dorian. They're... well, I hesitate to use the word brute, but they both fit the description rather well. Their family's made their fortune by running a number of the trading vessels that come in and out of the docks, but on several occasions the guard has nearly connected them with the Coterie. No proof, though, so there's nothing to be done. Both Damian and Dorian were suitors of mine, for about a day each, actually, which is a day more than I needed to decide against them. I don't think they hold allegiance with anyone but themselves, but I'd thought them content with their fortunes. I'd thought responsibility of rule was something they'd wanted to avoid." She could easily be mistaken about that, however. They were as private as they were brutish when confronted, and she rarely met in person with the patriarch of the family. Motives were hard to determine through letters.
"Last... the Natlas will be in attendance. They've risen to power quickly in the last decade or so, mostly through their strong ties with the Templar Order. It's no secret that Knight-Commander Meredith has as much influence over this city as my father does, and the Natla family is one that she respects. Two of their sons and one daughter have joined the order, and risen quite high in rank, I believe. Meric and his wife Falda should be among the guests, and I believe their daughter Joanna will be there as well. She's the Templar daughter. Normally, I wouldn't consider them a threat, but I fear the sheer amount of influence they've gained among the other nobles, and the pull they have with the Order, may have gone to their heads. I hope they won't try anything rash." That, and Sophia really didn't know them that well. As much time as she spent in the Chantry, she spent little among Templars, and though she respected them from afar, she knew not all of them were possessed of a level head. They were only human, after all.
Nostariel wasnāt sure she really understood what it was like to have such powerful enemies. Darkspawn didnāt usually try to stab you in the back, and at least most Templars were fairly forthright about their intentions. She was certain that dealing with all of this politicking on a regular basis would drive her mad or into seclusion. She felt her respect for Sophia, already rather considerable, ratchet up a couple of notches. It took a lot to speak so calmly about people who might want to kill you. The Warden did not desire to ever find out if she had it. Leaning back in her chair, she blinked a few times, trying to think of a useful question. āThese peopleā¦ Iāll do what I can to talk to them, but Iām not sure how willing most of them will be to exchange words with an elf.ā she smiled, a tinge brittle. She would not be a Warden there, or at least not immediately recognizable as such. That left her options for social status very limited.
āIāll admit, I donāt much fancy the thought of having to get through everyone there to find the ones Iām after. Is there a way to recognize the people from a distance? Distinguishing characteristics?ā she supposed the twins would look alike (and she imagined large), but the othersā¦ there was no way to tell thus far.
"The twins will be easy enough to spot," Sophia said. They were indeed quite powerfully built. Perhaps together they'd be a match for Lucien hand-to-hand, but even then, she doubted that. "Miranda's also quite hard to mistake. Tall, dark haired, very beautiful, and likely alone. The Natlas... I expected Joanna will be in Templar attire of some kind, and she'll likely remain near her parents. Jamie... will likely be the best dressed in the room. He's around my height, rather boyish appearance, short light brown hair, green eyes. Keep an eye on me long enough, and you'll see him at some point, I've no doubt."
"Good thing I'm a people person, I suppose," Ashton added, scratching behind Snuffy's ears. "Though we'll see if they'll want to talk to a Lowtown shopkeep." Well, he wouldn't have to admit to working in Lowtown. He could always call himself an aspiring entrepreneur specializing in the distrubition of various sundry household wares. That sounded a lot better, and it necessarily wasn't a lie either. Him. An entrepreneur. It brought a smile to his face, his aunt would be so proud of him. He nodded and said, "Know what? I can make it work. I'll get the information out of them. I'm just that damn lovable."
"I think you would be surprised," Sophia said. "A good deal of Hightown has heard of the exploits of an expedition to the Deep Roads recently. I'm sure they'd be interested to meet some of its members." Nostariel's point about being an elf was unfortunately a solid one, however. Sophia wasn't sure how well some of them would react to an elf being at the party, and not as a servant. The Tarkins were the most worrisome in this regard, if she recalled correctly.
"And if any of you need assistance finding something to wear, I can have something arranged with a tailor in Hightown. Armor will sadly not be permissible in the ballroom." Nostariel raised a small hand with a sheepish smile. She'd never owned more than a few sets of robes in her life, and now some leathers. Nothing that at all suited such an occasion as this. Still, she was sure they could arrange it later. For now, it looked like the meeting was wrapping up, and she stood, scooping up Oathkeeper and her quiver. There were likely preparations for all of them to make, and she personally had an appointment with some Darkspawn this afternoon, the thought of which took her to the door with a polite farewell.
Ashton thought on it a bit and then waved Sophia's offer away. "I've got something," he explained. He had it, he might as well use it. Though he'll make a point about not getting married this time. With that, he stood slowly-- so as to not awake the puppy in his lap, and made his way out of the room behind Nostariel. He had to make sure Lia hadn't burned down his shop yet.
Lucien was next to take his leave, but something stopped him just on the threshold of the door. He couldnāt believe heād almost forgotten to askā¦ again. It seemed certain finer points of social nicety escaped him after so long away from court. Pausing, he turned back and addressed Sophia. āIf I may ask,ā he inquired, tone caught somewhere between amusement and something that might have been a touch of embarrassment, āwhat color do you plan on wearing?ā It was not, exactly, the kind of question one business associate asked of another, and to be honest, heād never had cause to ask it of a friend, either, not in this context. But if he was going to do this, wellā¦ he wanted to do it properly. The escort bit and all.
"A dark red, I think," Sophia replied with a hint of a smile. It was her favorite color, after all, and if she couldn't wear it on her birthday, then truly there was something wrong with the world.
āAh. Thank you.ā Lucien replied, inclining his head and taking his leave. That left only Amalia, and the Qunari had shown no inclination to move yet. She was not a foolāshe knew her presence here was unexpected, and likely not particularly welcome. She had a feeling she was going to receive either an interrogation (though it would hardly deserve such a word) or a list of house rules. Donāt kill the basra, things like that. It was not as though she was not capable of discretion, but Sophia had no particular reason to know that. The woman likely understood Amalia even less than Amalia understood her. That she remained was a testament, however subtle, to the fact that she was willing to change that, just a bit, or at least set it aside for the moment.
Rather than begin the conversation with any of these observations, however, she offered the closest thing to an olive branch she possessed. āI understand that such occasions often call for music. I play the harp, if it please you to keep me away from the delicate sensibilities of your guests.ā
"Erm... yes, that might be best," Sophia said rather awkwardly. "The nobles have a special brand of delicate sensibilities, I'm afraid." She wondered for a moment how best to say what she wanted to say... or rather what to say at all. It occurred to her that she really had no idea why Amalia was offering to help, but she wasn't sure she needed to know. If there was one thing she thought was apparent about her, it was that she was driven. If she'd taken this upon herself, she was going to see it through.
"The nobles are... also the most desirous of seeing the Qunari leave the city, as well. I'm very thankful for your offer of assistance, but if this party is as eventful as I'm hoping it won't be, a Qunari presence could be harmful to the current state in the city." She swallowed, seeing how they were on two sides of that issue. "It would also be preferable if no one ended up dead after this is over," she continued. "Of course, I would ask no one to take a chance with my father's life to try and keep an assassin alive, but if possible, I'd like there to be a minimum of bloodshed. Even to protect the Viscount, a Qunari taking the life of a noble would not go over well, and beyond that, I'd like to speak with whoever wants me or my father dead." She was certain Amalia would understand. Perhaps she wasn't experienced with their politics and way of living at the noble tier, but she was clearly a very intelligent woman.
Amalia nodded. It was not as though she was incapable of maiming without killing, and she did not plan on announcing her status as a Qunari to everyone at the event. If all went even moderately well, nobody would be the wiser. āI understand,ā she said neutrally. āDiscretion and judgement are often required of me, and unlike your large friend, I am rather capable of telling lies when I need to. You need not fear for the lives of your guests unless those of your family are threatened by them. I will watch, and I will wait. If things move as you wish, that is all I will do.ā
"Thank you," Sophia said, quite simply. She didn't need to ask why she was helping. That she wanted to was more than enough for Sophia.
As far as she knew, all of Lucien's meetings had gone well enough, and all of the people she'd asked for would be in attendance at the party. There was still the matter of this other woman Lucien had decided to request the aid of. Sophia was uneasy allowing anyone she didn't trust to enter in on this agreement, but if Lucien trusted whoever it was, that would be enough for Sophia. The fact that her father's life was potentially on the line as well as her own was entirely why she was so nervous about this going well. The waking nightmare continued to plague her, long after the demon's magic had faded.
Sophia looked much better by now, if still a little harried. She was in armor again, hair loosely tied back, as she wasn't expecting any combat simply walking to Lowtown. Still, she was apparently making enemies as well as friends by attempting to do what was best for the city, so it couldn't hurt. The weight of it had grown comfortable. She'd been eating regularly again for the past few days, and the majority of her paleness had passed. She was her usual self again, if a little more stressed than normal.
She waited patiently at the head of Varric's table for the others to arrive. They'd only know what they were being invited to, and the reason they were there. She'd purposely saved the rest for this meeting, so that it could all be gone over once, when they were together, and could more effectively prepare. She glanced to the sword next to her, sheathed and propped up against the wall. She certainly wouldn't be able to bring that with her to the Keep's ballroom. Nor would she be able to wear the armor...
Well, she could, but she'd certainly look like quite the fool.
Lucien wound his way through Lowtown, the taciturn Qunari woman beside him. Heād expected to have to work a little harder to convince her to do this, but she had simply sat quietly for a moment after he outlined the specifications of the task to her, then nodded simply. āI will do it, if she allows it.ā Heād been quite tempted to ask after how the two were acquainted, as he had no knowledge of the connection, but he chose not to. With this one, silence was often the better choice, or at least the welcomed one. It was a drastic reversal from most of the people heād known, but comfortable enough for him, as his father had been the same, and his mother as well. It was the other side of things that was harder to navigate.
As sheād promised, Amalia had met him at his dwelling a few minutes ago, and now both progressed to the Hanged Man, both armored and armed to the teeth. Well, actually, he just had his axe and a belt-knife, but he was pretty sure the four visible knives on the Qunari were not the only ones she was carrying. Rilien was like that, too, and it was actually somewhat reassuring to note, given the job he was asking her to do. He wasnāt honestly sure if sheād accepted from the nature of the task itself, some lingering feeling of debt to him for the incident a year ago, or something else, but given that Ril was otherwise occupied, he knew of nobody more suited to it.
They entered the Hanged Man, and, as she was obviously unfamiliar, he led the way to the back room. As it was, his bulk initially obscured her from view, meaning that she was not visible until she had entered. āGood morning, Sophia,ā he greeted amicably, āYou look well.ā Unspoken was the obvious: she looked a great deal better than when he had last seen her. That would have to be conveyed in his small smile.
Amalia stepped cautiously into the room, clearly scanning it for security, sizing up potential exits. She took up a position on the wall near the door, but still close enough to the main part of the room to clearly be a part of the conversation. Propping the flat of one foot against the wall, she refrained from crossing her arms over her chest, as she was not here with hostile intentions and for once desired not to be perceived as such. Instead, she inclined her head slightly at the Viscountās eldest child. āSophia,ā she offered mildly, by way of greeting.
Sophia was a bit stunned at first when the Qunari woman she'd met while battling dragons walked through the door. She was actually tempted to laugh, just at the sheer ridiculousness. Or perhaps it was strangely fitting. That the Qunari would be protecting her and her father from the nobles, who seemed so greatly to desire the heathens gone from the city.
"Hello, Amalia," she said, unsure whether to smile or frown. She ended up doing neither. She'd want to speak with Amalia in private, and that could be done once the others had left, after she'd delivered her information. She trusted Lucien's choice, and she'd seen the woman in action herself, so her assistance would not be turned aside, but there a few things she needed to be certain that Amalia understood.
"And thank you, Lucien," she said, offering him a smile and a nod.
Judging from the sounds outside her room, Varricās was already filling up. With no particular need to arm herself for a ten-foot walk, Nostariel shrugged to herself and grabbed Oathkeeper anyway, Slinging the bow and a quiver over her shoulder. One could never be too careful in the Hanged Manāit tended to attract half the grudge matches in Kirkwall, and they didnāt always stay between the participants. Disabling and rearming her ward, the mage entered the room shortly after Amalia, recognizing the Qunari woman immediately and offering a bright smile. Sophia and Lucien were both already also here. Not quite as cautious as the trained assassin in the room, Nostariel took a seat, laying her arms on the low table.
āMorning, everyone. Itās good to see you.ā it had been a bit since sheād interacted with any of them, and sheād not seen Amalia since the Fade incident. That she was here was surely a good sign ofā¦ something, though Nostariel wasnāt exactly sure how sheād been brought into this adventure, so to speak.
Next on the list was Ashton and his plus one, Snuffy. Ever since Nostariel gave him the little puppy, had had been glued to her for the following couple of weeks. He hardly went anywhere without her, and fortunately she seemed to begin imprinting on him so she tended to follow him around when he wasn't doing anything important. Surely the scraps of deer he'd been sneaking her had nothing to do with that. He was currently in route to the Hanged Man, at the behest of Lucien. He thought it a huge tease inviting him to the Hanged Man, since he had decided to cut way back on his alcohol consumption. A blackout ending in marriage, and a grim heartfelt talk-to-talk tended to ward one off from the stuff.
Ashton himself was lightly armed, though he still wore his leathers-- but that was hardly surprising. He wore those every day. He'd left the shop in Lia's care, and with it his bow and quiver. He did have a skinning knife hidden away in his boots, but it was suicide to walk around Lowtown without some form of weaponry. It was moments before his legs brought him to the door of the hanged man, which he pushed past and into the establishment proper. He got a couple of strange looks, due in part to the dog in his arms, but nothing was said. Hell, a little bit of dog could only help the swill they called drink. Ashton danced past the patrons and headed to the back hall, and angled himself toward Varric's room. Upon his entrance he recongized several familiar faces.
And they were all armed for bear. He stood in the door way for a moment, looking from person to person and suddenly feeling under-dressed. "So... Where's the fight at? Wish someone would have told me we were marching into battle. I would have grabbed something more substantial than a piddly little knife," Ashton said, chuckling, though Snuffy whined. The idea of a fight didn't much appeal to her. Still, he took a seat at the table beside Nostariel, and leaned back, propping his feet on the table and letting Snuffy play in his lap.
"No fight," Sophia said, not in the best state of mind for any kind of humor, but her tone wasn't harsh or anything. "I just wanted to gather everyone and help you all know what to expect at the party." She raised an eyebrow slightly at the mabari puppy in his arms, but did not press him on it. The dog certainly wouldn't be allowed among the guests.
"I'll get to it, then," Sophia said, shifting slightly uncomfortably. The possible candidates who wanted her or her father's death were very many, especially when so many of them were so adept at hiding their motives, and their goals. It had taken her quite some time just to try and pick out a few who would be the most likely, as well as those who were simply the most prominent nobles at the celebration.
"You'll all be allowed entrance into the grand ballroom of the Viscount's Keep with the other guests. I can instruct the guards to allow you to pass with weapons, but they'll need to be hidden. I don't want armed guests, especially if you're to be moving among them. The guards on the perimeter and near my family will be enough, and I hardly trust them as it is." Even the captain had been corruptible, as she and Lucien had found out recently. How many of the lower ranking guardsmen were just as susceptible, she could not say.
"The party will consist of a feast, several speeches, I'm sure, gift giving... you need not bring a gift, I certainly won't mind. I would have preferred not to have the party at all, but Father insists." She shook her head. She had no doubt that some of them would still bring her some kind of gift. Well... it would be sort of expected of Lucien, given how he was arriving with her. "It will be pretty unorganized, but a group dance will end the festivities. Until then, we'll simply have to put up with the city's nobles."
No easy task, certainly. Sophia was not fond of some of them, as she was about to go over. "Lucien will be arriving with me as my escort, and stay with me throughout the party. Nostariel, Ashton, I'd like you to mainly move through the guests, keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and perhaps talk to a few of them, see if you can find anything out. Amalia can keep watch over things from a distance, and intervene if she sees anything."
Ashton nudged Nostariel's arm at the mention of a group dance, but otherwise kept silently until the end. Even then, he prolonged the silence a bit further to ensure that no one else had any other, more pertinant questions before asking his. "Are you always so particular over your birthdays? And should we be looking for anything specific?" Surely if she displayed such decorum with other matters, she was bound to be a barrel of fun-- He decided not to press too hard though, as clearly she wasn't in the mood for it. Besides, everyone was armed but him. He would definitely like to leave in the same shape he arrived.
"Oh, and would you like anything particular for your birthday?" Ashton added. A hint would be nice, though he could always figure something out. He did think he was good at giving gifts, after all.
Sophia couldn't help but sigh at the man. "You're all going out of your way for me as it is. That in of itself is a gift. I don't need anything more than that, really." Really, she trusted Ashton to have a good heart, but his occasional inability to take things seriously was trying sometimes. "There's several people I'd like you to talk with at some point, to see what you can get out of them."
"First would be the Arren family, particularly Jorah Arren and his son, Jamie. The Arren family was one of the ones closely considered to inherit the Keep, but my father received it instead, and it surprised many. They remain one of the most powerful and influential families in the city. They've never been very supportive of my father's rule, but Jorah has tried on several occasions to bind our families by trying to match me with Jamie. I have resisted this notion, as you can see." She wondered what he'd think when Lucien of all people walked in with her. Jamie had always been the most charming of her suitors, but he was a fool to think charm was what she was searching for.
"The Lady Miranda Threnhold is the second. If you recognize the name, you'll know that she's the only living member of the Threnhold family left. Her father was the Viscount of Kirkwall until he crossed the Templar Order. Miranda is his daughter. In all the time I've known her, she's shrewd, cold, and intelligent, and she's none too subtle about her dislike for me and my family. I don't know if she feels that she should be Viscountess now or not, but she's certainly smart enough to be able to put together a plan for it. I had thought assassination to be a place she wouldn't go, but I may very well be wrong." She was still quite wealthy, as she had been too young to be implicated in her father's revolt, and considering that she'd hadn't committed any crime, there was little reason to not allow her to inherit what her father left behind. Apart from the leadership of Kirkwall, of course.
"The wealthiest family in the city is without a doubt the Tarkins. I believe only the twins will be in attendance, that's Damian and Dorian. They're... well, I hesitate to use the word brute, but they both fit the description rather well. Their family's made their fortune by running a number of the trading vessels that come in and out of the docks, but on several occasions the guard has nearly connected them with the Coterie. No proof, though, so there's nothing to be done. Both Damian and Dorian were suitors of mine, for about a day each, actually, which is a day more than I needed to decide against them. I don't think they hold allegiance with anyone but themselves, but I'd thought them content with their fortunes. I'd thought responsibility of rule was something they'd wanted to avoid." She could easily be mistaken about that, however. They were as private as they were brutish when confronted, and she rarely met in person with the patriarch of the family. Motives were hard to determine through letters.
"Last... the Natlas will be in attendance. They've risen to power quickly in the last decade or so, mostly through their strong ties with the Templar Order. It's no secret that Knight-Commander Meredith has as much influence over this city as my father does, and the Natla family is one that she respects. Two of their sons and one daughter have joined the order, and risen quite high in rank, I believe. Meric and his wife Falda should be among the guests, and I believe their daughter Joanna will be there as well. She's the Templar daughter. Normally, I wouldn't consider them a threat, but I fear the sheer amount of influence they've gained among the other nobles, and the pull they have with the Order, may have gone to their heads. I hope they won't try anything rash." That, and Sophia really didn't know them that well. As much time as she spent in the Chantry, she spent little among Templars, and though she respected them from afar, she knew not all of them were possessed of a level head. They were only human, after all.
Nostariel wasnāt sure she really understood what it was like to have such powerful enemies. Darkspawn didnāt usually try to stab you in the back, and at least most Templars were fairly forthright about their intentions. She was certain that dealing with all of this politicking on a regular basis would drive her mad or into seclusion. She felt her respect for Sophia, already rather considerable, ratchet up a couple of notches. It took a lot to speak so calmly about people who might want to kill you. The Warden did not desire to ever find out if she had it. Leaning back in her chair, she blinked a few times, trying to think of a useful question. āThese peopleā¦ Iāll do what I can to talk to them, but Iām not sure how willing most of them will be to exchange words with an elf.ā she smiled, a tinge brittle. She would not be a Warden there, or at least not immediately recognizable as such. That left her options for social status very limited.
āIāll admit, I donāt much fancy the thought of having to get through everyone there to find the ones Iām after. Is there a way to recognize the people from a distance? Distinguishing characteristics?ā she supposed the twins would look alike (and she imagined large), but the othersā¦ there was no way to tell thus far.
"The twins will be easy enough to spot," Sophia said. They were indeed quite powerfully built. Perhaps together they'd be a match for Lucien hand-to-hand, but even then, she doubted that. "Miranda's also quite hard to mistake. Tall, dark haired, very beautiful, and likely alone. The Natlas... I expected Joanna will be in Templar attire of some kind, and she'll likely remain near her parents. Jamie... will likely be the best dressed in the room. He's around my height, rather boyish appearance, short light brown hair, green eyes. Keep an eye on me long enough, and you'll see him at some point, I've no doubt."
"Good thing I'm a people person, I suppose," Ashton added, scratching behind Snuffy's ears. "Though we'll see if they'll want to talk to a Lowtown shopkeep." Well, he wouldn't have to admit to working in Lowtown. He could always call himself an aspiring entrepreneur specializing in the distrubition of various sundry household wares. That sounded a lot better, and it necessarily wasn't a lie either. Him. An entrepreneur. It brought a smile to his face, his aunt would be so proud of him. He nodded and said, "Know what? I can make it work. I'll get the information out of them. I'm just that damn lovable."
"I think you would be surprised," Sophia said. "A good deal of Hightown has heard of the exploits of an expedition to the Deep Roads recently. I'm sure they'd be interested to meet some of its members." Nostariel's point about being an elf was unfortunately a solid one, however. Sophia wasn't sure how well some of them would react to an elf being at the party, and not as a servant. The Tarkins were the most worrisome in this regard, if she recalled correctly.
"And if any of you need assistance finding something to wear, I can have something arranged with a tailor in Hightown. Armor will sadly not be permissible in the ballroom." Nostariel raised a small hand with a sheepish smile. She'd never owned more than a few sets of robes in her life, and now some leathers. Nothing that at all suited such an occasion as this. Still, she was sure they could arrange it later. For now, it looked like the meeting was wrapping up, and she stood, scooping up Oathkeeper and her quiver. There were likely preparations for all of them to make, and she personally had an appointment with some Darkspawn this afternoon, the thought of which took her to the door with a polite farewell.
Ashton thought on it a bit and then waved Sophia's offer away. "I've got something," he explained. He had it, he might as well use it. Though he'll make a point about not getting married this time. With that, he stood slowly-- so as to not awake the puppy in his lap, and made his way out of the room behind Nostariel. He had to make sure Lia hadn't burned down his shop yet.
Lucien was next to take his leave, but something stopped him just on the threshold of the door. He couldnāt believe heād almost forgotten to askā¦ again. It seemed certain finer points of social nicety escaped him after so long away from court. Pausing, he turned back and addressed Sophia. āIf I may ask,ā he inquired, tone caught somewhere between amusement and something that might have been a touch of embarrassment, āwhat color do you plan on wearing?ā It was not, exactly, the kind of question one business associate asked of another, and to be honest, heād never had cause to ask it of a friend, either, not in this context. But if he was going to do this, wellā¦ he wanted to do it properly. The escort bit and all.
"A dark red, I think," Sophia replied with a hint of a smile. It was her favorite color, after all, and if she couldn't wear it on her birthday, then truly there was something wrong with the world.
āAh. Thank you.ā Lucien replied, inclining his head and taking his leave. That left only Amalia, and the Qunari had shown no inclination to move yet. She was not a foolāshe knew her presence here was unexpected, and likely not particularly welcome. She had a feeling she was going to receive either an interrogation (though it would hardly deserve such a word) or a list of house rules. Donāt kill the basra, things like that. It was not as though she was not capable of discretion, but Sophia had no particular reason to know that. The woman likely understood Amalia even less than Amalia understood her. That she remained was a testament, however subtle, to the fact that she was willing to change that, just a bit, or at least set it aside for the moment.
Rather than begin the conversation with any of these observations, however, she offered the closest thing to an olive branch she possessed. āI understand that such occasions often call for music. I play the harp, if it please you to keep me away from the delicate sensibilities of your guests.ā
"Erm... yes, that might be best," Sophia said rather awkwardly. "The nobles have a special brand of delicate sensibilities, I'm afraid." She wondered for a moment how best to say what she wanted to say... or rather what to say at all. It occurred to her that she really had no idea why Amalia was offering to help, but she wasn't sure she needed to know. If there was one thing she thought was apparent about her, it was that she was driven. If she'd taken this upon herself, she was going to see it through.
"The nobles are... also the most desirous of seeing the Qunari leave the city, as well. I'm very thankful for your offer of assistance, but if this party is as eventful as I'm hoping it won't be, a Qunari presence could be harmful to the current state in the city." She swallowed, seeing how they were on two sides of that issue. "It would also be preferable if no one ended up dead after this is over," she continued. "Of course, I would ask no one to take a chance with my father's life to try and keep an assassin alive, but if possible, I'd like there to be a minimum of bloodshed. Even to protect the Viscount, a Qunari taking the life of a noble would not go over well, and beyond that, I'd like to speak with whoever wants me or my father dead." She was certain Amalia would understand. Perhaps she wasn't experienced with their politics and way of living at the noble tier, but she was clearly a very intelligent woman.
Amalia nodded. It was not as though she was incapable of maiming without killing, and she did not plan on announcing her status as a Qunari to everyone at the event. If all went even moderately well, nobody would be the wiser. āI understand,ā she said neutrally. āDiscretion and judgement are often required of me, and unlike your large friend, I am rather capable of telling lies when I need to. You need not fear for the lives of your guests unless those of your family are threatened by them. I will watch, and I will wait. If things move as you wish, that is all I will do.ā
"Thank you," Sophia said, quite simply. She didn't need to ask why she was helping. That she wanted to was more than enough for Sophia.