"It's an outrage!" the man cried, shaking his pudgy fist as his annoyingly high-pitched voice filled the hall. "I demand compensation for the goods that were lost. I think twice their worth should be sufficient."
Sophia resisted the urge to stroke her forehead, to combat the steadily growing headache that had settled in about an hour ago. The afternoon was slowly dragging on, but the sun set would not come for several hours, a fact Sophia loathed to think about. Her day had been swallowed up holding her father's court again, though it was beginning to seem like she had been here about a week, judging by the way her rear was starting to go numb in the seat. She wondered who had designed the throne. It was a tall and imposing chair, the back rising up to more than twice Sophia's height, but it was still of a rather simple design, and utterly devoid of cushion. Sophia might have found some wisdom in that, if she weren't so tired. The butt that sits on a throne should never be too comfortable, lest the ruler forget that it is, in fact, a butt.
The man hoping to pilfer the city's coffers in front of her was a young merchant prince from Antiva, a son who had inherited family riches, and family responsibility, from those who had actually earned it before him. Sophia suspected it was his first time running a caravan of goods through the Free Marches, given his young age, and the fact that he had tried to steer his carts through the cliffs near the sea, taking the Wounded Coast road. The road was notoriously dangerous and a haven of highwaymen, a fact any experienced merchant would have learned ahead of time. This one, however, hadn't the slightest clue, and ended up with his goods stolen, his modest escort murdered, though somehow his own horse was able to carry his fat little body away from his dying employees quick enough to save his life.
"My lady?" he said, the words acting like an annoying poke in her ribs. "Surely a road so close to the city walls is under the protection of the city watch, and yet the guard was nowhere to be seen when highwaymen ambushed me. Do you not protect the people you rule over?" Sophia could have slapped him, but sadly he was all the way down the stairs below her, and even if she'd had Vesenia in hand she wouldn't have had the reach. This idiot of a man had no idea what kind of lengths she had gone to trying to turn the city around, but it seemed that the harder she strived, the more problems reared their ugly heads. The guard was already stretched too thin trying to keep the city streets safe. A sortie out into the coast was an incredible risk, one that she simply couldn't make right now. It didn't change the facts, however.
"You've made your point," Sophia conceded, sighing tiredly despite her efforts not to. "Your goods will be paid for as you request. Seneschal Bran will oversee the transaction. I trust that the next time you travel to Kirkwall, you will choose a safer road." He scoffed at her, despite having his victory. "Perhaps I won't return at all. Kirkwall is obviously bad for business." He turned sharply on his heel, and strode from the room. Sophia wondered how close Lucien's mercenary company was to completion. The idea of accompanying him to clear out some of the stauncher bandit groups was very attractive to her. How romantic.
There were more people waiting to speak with her, but Sophia didn't feel she could stomach much more. The sun had dropped down low enough to strike through the windows and down onto the hall, heating it up more than she was comfortable with. Summer was beginning to set in, but the day was hot enough for it to be in full swing. For once, Sophia was thankful that she wasn't in armor, but rather a thin dress of a midnight blue color that left her shoulders bared, close fit to her body from the waist up. The skirt was long enough that her visitors couldn't see her feet, so naturally she had removed her shoes several hours ago. She dared not ask to wear the crown yet, instead having a thin silver circlet threaded into into her hair, which was bound in an elegant braid left to rest on her shoulder.
Sophia leaned over to Bran on her left. "I think a break would be nice, Bran." He obviously agreed, and immediately ordered the room to be cleared, declaring that the Viscount's court was in recess for the moment. It was only as the room began to clear that Sophia noticed Nostariel had entered the room. She waved to try and catch her attention. "Nostariel! Please stay, I didn't see you enter."
Nostariel, a day from her return from the Deep Roads, had indeed decided to pay a visit to the Viscountâs court, which sheâd learned upon entrance to the Keep was being held by Sophia today. That had brought a little smile to her face; it wasnât that she disliked or felt particularly intimidated by Lord Dumar, but Sophia was a welcome presence in her life, and it would be easier to speak without the need to couch things in particularly formal terms. It would be a formal request, in a sense, or at least a formal piece of advice, but she trusted that someoneâprobably the Seneschal, could translate it into the right court-speak for her. She wasnât terribly good with the flowery language or anything like that; her best option in such situation was honestly to imitate the way she heard Templars talk to each other, or what she read in books. The former were more practical than formal, though, and the latter may well be outdated by an age or so⊠she couldnât really be sure.
Of course, no sooner had she arrived than it seemed the room was being cleared, and she blinked a little. Perhaps it had been a long day for Sophiaâshe would not doubt it. Nostariel knew not the difficulties of such a position, but she could hazard a guess. She certainly would not want to be ruler of a city-state, not even for a single day. A rather squat Antivan brushed past her, looking sour, but she pain him no mind, and she doubted he much noticed an elf either, honestly. It was not until Sophia called her name that she glanced up to the raised dais on which the impressive throne sat, and when she caught sight of her friend, she smiled again, this time a little more widely. Moving away from the door, she allowed everyone to file out before she approached.
âHello Sophia,â she said cheerfully, but then she paused, her eyes widening marginally. âOh, um⊠should I curtsey here? Sorry, Iâm not sure how to do this formallyâŠâ She was fairly certain by now that Sophia wouldnât insist anyway, but she figured the least she could do was ask. Her friend looked lovely today, if perhaps a bit weary, which she supposed might be the reason the room had been vacated by the rest of the petitioners.
"No formalities necessary," Sophia said, returning the smile. She stood and came down the stairs to meet the Warden. "Look, I'm not even wearing any shoes." She poked one foot out from under her skirts to show her. "Really, it's quite a relief to talk with a friend in the middle of all the petitioning." She knew that Nostariel had recently returned from the Deep Roads, largely because she had taken Lucien with her. For having just been to the Deep Roads, she looked very well. She hoped all the others were just as well.
"Everything went alright on your trip, I hope? I would have been there if I could." The risks had obviously been too great for her to take, as much as she had wanted to. It was obviously something that was very important to Nostariel, and thus it was important to Sophia as well.
Nostariel giggled at the sight of Sophiaâs bare foot. She bet those fancy slippers werenât nearly as comfortable as a nice pair of boots. Sheâd probably have tried to escape them as soon as possible, herself. Somehow, that managed to break any ice over the reason for her venture here, and she nodded in response to the question. âI understand,â she replied kindly. âThe Deep Roads arenât a place I want to take anyone, and hopefully, I wonât need to again. Actually, that was what I was here to talk to you about.â
It was, of course, just nice to see her, and perhaps Sophia would have a bit of time for some more pleasant conversation afterwards, but⊠she really did need to make sure someone in the right position knew about what she had to tell them. âAs it turns out, the entrance we used was not structurally sound, and collapsed not long after we entered. We took an alternative way out, but⊠it lets out closer to Kirkwall than I think is properly safe, and since the Wardens are putting most of their resources and effort into rebuilding the numbers and infrastructure in Ferelden right now, it may be a while before they can act on it in any official capacity. I wanted to let you know before I put in the official report, since it might be better for everyone if Kirkwall could collapse the unmapped entrance. It would prevent any incursions too close to the city, and if I knew it was being done, I could say as much.â
Of secondary, but still relevant, concern was that Kirkwall may not need to play host to more Wardens at a time where the political situation was so delicate. Her organization was not so much a player in state politics, but they were involved in some places, and the less opportunity there was for the state of Kirkwall to make it to other nations in unedited fashion⊠well, Nostariel thought it would be a pertinent consideration.
The idea of her friends getting trapped in the Deep Roads by a collapse was enough to put a frown on Sophia's face, and the news that their exit was dangerously close to Kirkwall didn't do anything to remove it. As had been pointed out earlier, the guard wasn't exactly in a position to go ranging beyond the city walls and destroying entrances to the Deep Roads, but then again, perhaps the city guard wouldn't be necessary for a job like that. She thought for a moment on the issue.
"That sounds like a good idea. As for how it should actually be done, I'm afraid I'm not so sure. Is there a standard procedure for it that the Wardens use? It seems like something the Circle might be able to assist with." That, or the Qunari. Their blasting powder would certainly be able to put a dent in the rock. Not that they would be able to get any from them, as had already been proven. Whoever dealt with the entrance, they would probably need an escort as well. If the Circle could handle it, the Templars would no doubt follow along, but if not, she could think of at least one upstanding mercenary group able to take up a protection detail.
Nostariel thought about it for a moment. She only barely stopped herself from shrugging in partial response, but remembered her manners. It may not be formal, but it was still business. âGenerally, when entrances are to be collapsed rather than stabilized, we use lyrium explosives. Theyâre usually purchased from the dwarves, but I understand the Circle here does a limited lyrium trade. I think⊠if the right quantity could be procured, as well as someone with some expertise in the use of explosives, it should not require more than a small escort for security purposes.â Most Circles had some supplier connections of lyrium, given how vital it was to magic, but Kirkwall might be stricterâshe did not know for sure. As for someone to detonate it⊠if Amalia did not know how, she thought that perhaps Ashâs Tranquil friend, Rilien, might have an idea of what needed to be done.
âI would be willing to guide such a group back to the entrance, of course, but I am not much of an engineer, and trying to collapse a stable entrance with magic would be⊠poor judgement, on my part.â She smiled ruefully.
Sophia nodded. "I think a visit to the merchant quarter might be in order, then. I believe the dwarven merchant's guild here has a limited supply of lyrium explosives we could make use of. I'll... see to that tomorrow." She shrugged up at the chair at the top of the steps. "I never thought that sitting and talking to people could be so tiring. But, for every Antivan merchant prince, there's another person in actual need of help, so the least I can do is sit in that chair and hear them out." It was valuable experience, too. The local nobility was willing to understand that she was still learning now, but it would not always be so. There would come a time when she couldn't afford to make mistakes. She wondered if it had already arrived.
"Anyway... you're well, I hope? No trouble at the clinic? I hear it's become quite popular." The medical attention of a mage as experienced in healing magic as she was would do that, especially in a place like Lowtown, where proper treatment was likely quite hard to find, especially at a decent price. She wondered if Nostariel had thought about taking on any help.
Nostariel hummed a conciliatory note in the back of her throat. The perils of political power were not something she would ever have to worry about, but she knew enough to understand that she was glad of that, and did not envy Sophia her position, not in the slightest. Still, there was a lot of good to be done from one of those chairs, and someone had to occupy them. Better Sophia than almost anyone else she could think of, even if the woman was just as suited for the field and more direct approaches as she was for the diplomatâs trade. There was something admirable about that kind of flexibility; she only seldom met people who could slide from peaceful negotiation to more violent necessities with such skill in both. In fact⊠it might be that she only knew two.
The friendlier query drew a slightly-weary smile from her, like a mother with too many children, all of them running about underfoot. There was happiness in it, certainly, but also a kind of fatigue, though it was not extreme. âI think that perhaps if there is one thing the world will always need, it is anyone with a bit of skill in medicine,â she confessed, lifting a shoulder. Her formal requesting was done, so she felt comfortable easing the lines of her posture a little bit. âBusiness at the clinic is never done, really, but I spent this morning seeing to everyone who still needed me after the time I was gone, so tomorrow should be a little simpler.â And back to normal hours, which allowed her a little bit of flexibility, since she kept her late afternoons and evenings free in case her friends needed her for something. Most accidents happened during working hours anyway⊠at least the ones she dealt with. It would not be false to say that Nostariel was more than occasionally woken in the middle of the night for some emergency or another, but generally speaking, those who came to her were injured dockworkers or sick elves or people worried about their childâs cough.
A thought struck her then, and she figured she might as well inquire. âNot to bring up unpleasant things, but⊠has anyone managed to figure out what Jamie Arren was talking about, after he was caught? I know it was upsetting to your lord father, and I suppose I thought he might have set someone to looking into the matter?â She wasnât exactly comfortable with what seemed such a direct and rather meaningful kind of threat leveled so close to a friend, and that friendâs family. She knew there was likely not much she could do to help, but⊠âI mean, if you want me to, I can start poking around a little bit. Patients are surprisingly chatty, and you never know what kinds of things the laborers hear. A lot of them live in Darktown, and if you want to hide someone, you do it there.â
"It... has been a little difficult," Sophia admitted. "For everyone, I mean. Jamie and I grew up together. Ever since my father became Viscount the Arrens have been trying to match us, and my father was always agreeable with the pairing. Father was always fond of him, Jamie's own parents can't understand why he would do something like that. I've sent men to speak with him in the Gallows, but all he says is that I need to hear the words from Dairren's lips, and not his own." That thought was enough to put a chill in her, even in the warmth of the room. Dairren Quinn was a dangerous man, and her father had seen to it that there was no man with as high a price on his head since his apparent return to Kirkwall.
She realized Nostariel likely did not know who that was, and shook her head. "Dairren Quinn was captain of the city guard here for twelve years, the last six of which were the beginning of my father's rule. He's... actually who taught me how to use a blade, and he was an old friend of my mother's. Father considered him one of the family's closest friends, until it was revealed that he was corrupt, conspiring with the Coterie. He was exiled from the city nearly eight years ago."
She sighed, the weight of heavy memories slipping over her shoulders. "It's fairly clear to me that Dairren had repeated contact with Jamie before the assassination attempt, and that it was his will behind it. If he's in the city, it's possible he's integrated into the Coterie to some degree, and I suspect this is what makes him so difficult to find. I've had Ashton keeping an ear to the ground for me for some time now, but so far nothing's come up. I'd welcome another pair of eyes, but... well, Dairren was as much a spymaster as he was a guard captain. If he doesn't want to be found, it's unlikely we'll have any luck."
Sophia shook her head, obviously attempting to remain optimistic. "Really, though, I would appreciate the help. There aren't any official resources to devote to it with the state the city's still in. I'd go looking myself, but I'd hardly know where to start, and my time is terribly short as is." She frowned, glancing out the window to where the sun was finally beginning to drop past the taller rooftops. "I've been so busy, I've hardly left any time for my family. I couldn't even tell you where Saemus has gotten off to, and the only reason I'm here in court is because Father is focused on mending the situation with the Qunari." It was a little ironic, really, that the extreme efforts she went to for her family ended up leaving her further apart from them. She tried not to think on it too much.
Nostariel didn't exactly know what it was like to have a blood family, and sheâd never had to worry about her work taking her away from the other kind of family, but she nodded sympathetically anyway, reaching out to touch Sophiaâs elbow in a reassuring fashion. âWell, if itâs like that, I donât know if Iâll turn up anything useful, but Iâll pay attention just in case. You never knowâthings are connected in the strangest of ways, sometimes.â Sensing that it might be best to let her friend rest for the evening, and perhaps in need of some herself, Nostariel let her hand fall back to her side.
âJust⊠donât forget what itâs really all for, Sophia. I managed to forget, once, and it⊠letâs just say I hope thatâs a road you never have to travel. There is always more work, but you never know when the other things might disappear.â She didnât mean to sound morbid, exactly, but this was simply a lesson Nostariel had learned too well not to pass on as gently as she could.
Sophia resisted the urge to stroke her forehead, to combat the steadily growing headache that had settled in about an hour ago. The afternoon was slowly dragging on, but the sun set would not come for several hours, a fact Sophia loathed to think about. Her day had been swallowed up holding her father's court again, though it was beginning to seem like she had been here about a week, judging by the way her rear was starting to go numb in the seat. She wondered who had designed the throne. It was a tall and imposing chair, the back rising up to more than twice Sophia's height, but it was still of a rather simple design, and utterly devoid of cushion. Sophia might have found some wisdom in that, if she weren't so tired. The butt that sits on a throne should never be too comfortable, lest the ruler forget that it is, in fact, a butt.
The man hoping to pilfer the city's coffers in front of her was a young merchant prince from Antiva, a son who had inherited family riches, and family responsibility, from those who had actually earned it before him. Sophia suspected it was his first time running a caravan of goods through the Free Marches, given his young age, and the fact that he had tried to steer his carts through the cliffs near the sea, taking the Wounded Coast road. The road was notoriously dangerous and a haven of highwaymen, a fact any experienced merchant would have learned ahead of time. This one, however, hadn't the slightest clue, and ended up with his goods stolen, his modest escort murdered, though somehow his own horse was able to carry his fat little body away from his dying employees quick enough to save his life.
"My lady?" he said, the words acting like an annoying poke in her ribs. "Surely a road so close to the city walls is under the protection of the city watch, and yet the guard was nowhere to be seen when highwaymen ambushed me. Do you not protect the people you rule over?" Sophia could have slapped him, but sadly he was all the way down the stairs below her, and even if she'd had Vesenia in hand she wouldn't have had the reach. This idiot of a man had no idea what kind of lengths she had gone to trying to turn the city around, but it seemed that the harder she strived, the more problems reared their ugly heads. The guard was already stretched too thin trying to keep the city streets safe. A sortie out into the coast was an incredible risk, one that she simply couldn't make right now. It didn't change the facts, however.
"You've made your point," Sophia conceded, sighing tiredly despite her efforts not to. "Your goods will be paid for as you request. Seneschal Bran will oversee the transaction. I trust that the next time you travel to Kirkwall, you will choose a safer road." He scoffed at her, despite having his victory. "Perhaps I won't return at all. Kirkwall is obviously bad for business." He turned sharply on his heel, and strode from the room. Sophia wondered how close Lucien's mercenary company was to completion. The idea of accompanying him to clear out some of the stauncher bandit groups was very attractive to her. How romantic.
There were more people waiting to speak with her, but Sophia didn't feel she could stomach much more. The sun had dropped down low enough to strike through the windows and down onto the hall, heating it up more than she was comfortable with. Summer was beginning to set in, but the day was hot enough for it to be in full swing. For once, Sophia was thankful that she wasn't in armor, but rather a thin dress of a midnight blue color that left her shoulders bared, close fit to her body from the waist up. The skirt was long enough that her visitors couldn't see her feet, so naturally she had removed her shoes several hours ago. She dared not ask to wear the crown yet, instead having a thin silver circlet threaded into into her hair, which was bound in an elegant braid left to rest on her shoulder.
Sophia leaned over to Bran on her left. "I think a break would be nice, Bran." He obviously agreed, and immediately ordered the room to be cleared, declaring that the Viscount's court was in recess for the moment. It was only as the room began to clear that Sophia noticed Nostariel had entered the room. She waved to try and catch her attention. "Nostariel! Please stay, I didn't see you enter."
Nostariel, a day from her return from the Deep Roads, had indeed decided to pay a visit to the Viscountâs court, which sheâd learned upon entrance to the Keep was being held by Sophia today. That had brought a little smile to her face; it wasnât that she disliked or felt particularly intimidated by Lord Dumar, but Sophia was a welcome presence in her life, and it would be easier to speak without the need to couch things in particularly formal terms. It would be a formal request, in a sense, or at least a formal piece of advice, but she trusted that someoneâprobably the Seneschal, could translate it into the right court-speak for her. She wasnât terribly good with the flowery language or anything like that; her best option in such situation was honestly to imitate the way she heard Templars talk to each other, or what she read in books. The former were more practical than formal, though, and the latter may well be outdated by an age or so⊠she couldnât really be sure.
Of course, no sooner had she arrived than it seemed the room was being cleared, and she blinked a little. Perhaps it had been a long day for Sophiaâshe would not doubt it. Nostariel knew not the difficulties of such a position, but she could hazard a guess. She certainly would not want to be ruler of a city-state, not even for a single day. A rather squat Antivan brushed past her, looking sour, but she pain him no mind, and she doubted he much noticed an elf either, honestly. It was not until Sophia called her name that she glanced up to the raised dais on which the impressive throne sat, and when she caught sight of her friend, she smiled again, this time a little more widely. Moving away from the door, she allowed everyone to file out before she approached.
âHello Sophia,â she said cheerfully, but then she paused, her eyes widening marginally. âOh, um⊠should I curtsey here? Sorry, Iâm not sure how to do this formallyâŠâ She was fairly certain by now that Sophia wouldnât insist anyway, but she figured the least she could do was ask. Her friend looked lovely today, if perhaps a bit weary, which she supposed might be the reason the room had been vacated by the rest of the petitioners.
"No formalities necessary," Sophia said, returning the smile. She stood and came down the stairs to meet the Warden. "Look, I'm not even wearing any shoes." She poked one foot out from under her skirts to show her. "Really, it's quite a relief to talk with a friend in the middle of all the petitioning." She knew that Nostariel had recently returned from the Deep Roads, largely because she had taken Lucien with her. For having just been to the Deep Roads, she looked very well. She hoped all the others were just as well.
"Everything went alright on your trip, I hope? I would have been there if I could." The risks had obviously been too great for her to take, as much as she had wanted to. It was obviously something that was very important to Nostariel, and thus it was important to Sophia as well.
Nostariel giggled at the sight of Sophiaâs bare foot. She bet those fancy slippers werenât nearly as comfortable as a nice pair of boots. Sheâd probably have tried to escape them as soon as possible, herself. Somehow, that managed to break any ice over the reason for her venture here, and she nodded in response to the question. âI understand,â she replied kindly. âThe Deep Roads arenât a place I want to take anyone, and hopefully, I wonât need to again. Actually, that was what I was here to talk to you about.â
It was, of course, just nice to see her, and perhaps Sophia would have a bit of time for some more pleasant conversation afterwards, but⊠she really did need to make sure someone in the right position knew about what she had to tell them. âAs it turns out, the entrance we used was not structurally sound, and collapsed not long after we entered. We took an alternative way out, but⊠it lets out closer to Kirkwall than I think is properly safe, and since the Wardens are putting most of their resources and effort into rebuilding the numbers and infrastructure in Ferelden right now, it may be a while before they can act on it in any official capacity. I wanted to let you know before I put in the official report, since it might be better for everyone if Kirkwall could collapse the unmapped entrance. It would prevent any incursions too close to the city, and if I knew it was being done, I could say as much.â
Of secondary, but still relevant, concern was that Kirkwall may not need to play host to more Wardens at a time where the political situation was so delicate. Her organization was not so much a player in state politics, but they were involved in some places, and the less opportunity there was for the state of Kirkwall to make it to other nations in unedited fashion⊠well, Nostariel thought it would be a pertinent consideration.
The idea of her friends getting trapped in the Deep Roads by a collapse was enough to put a frown on Sophia's face, and the news that their exit was dangerously close to Kirkwall didn't do anything to remove it. As had been pointed out earlier, the guard wasn't exactly in a position to go ranging beyond the city walls and destroying entrances to the Deep Roads, but then again, perhaps the city guard wouldn't be necessary for a job like that. She thought for a moment on the issue.
"That sounds like a good idea. As for how it should actually be done, I'm afraid I'm not so sure. Is there a standard procedure for it that the Wardens use? It seems like something the Circle might be able to assist with." That, or the Qunari. Their blasting powder would certainly be able to put a dent in the rock. Not that they would be able to get any from them, as had already been proven. Whoever dealt with the entrance, they would probably need an escort as well. If the Circle could handle it, the Templars would no doubt follow along, but if not, she could think of at least one upstanding mercenary group able to take up a protection detail.
Nostariel thought about it for a moment. She only barely stopped herself from shrugging in partial response, but remembered her manners. It may not be formal, but it was still business. âGenerally, when entrances are to be collapsed rather than stabilized, we use lyrium explosives. Theyâre usually purchased from the dwarves, but I understand the Circle here does a limited lyrium trade. I think⊠if the right quantity could be procured, as well as someone with some expertise in the use of explosives, it should not require more than a small escort for security purposes.â Most Circles had some supplier connections of lyrium, given how vital it was to magic, but Kirkwall might be stricterâshe did not know for sure. As for someone to detonate it⊠if Amalia did not know how, she thought that perhaps Ashâs Tranquil friend, Rilien, might have an idea of what needed to be done.
âI would be willing to guide such a group back to the entrance, of course, but I am not much of an engineer, and trying to collapse a stable entrance with magic would be⊠poor judgement, on my part.â She smiled ruefully.
Sophia nodded. "I think a visit to the merchant quarter might be in order, then. I believe the dwarven merchant's guild here has a limited supply of lyrium explosives we could make use of. I'll... see to that tomorrow." She shrugged up at the chair at the top of the steps. "I never thought that sitting and talking to people could be so tiring. But, for every Antivan merchant prince, there's another person in actual need of help, so the least I can do is sit in that chair and hear them out." It was valuable experience, too. The local nobility was willing to understand that she was still learning now, but it would not always be so. There would come a time when she couldn't afford to make mistakes. She wondered if it had already arrived.
"Anyway... you're well, I hope? No trouble at the clinic? I hear it's become quite popular." The medical attention of a mage as experienced in healing magic as she was would do that, especially in a place like Lowtown, where proper treatment was likely quite hard to find, especially at a decent price. She wondered if Nostariel had thought about taking on any help.
Nostariel hummed a conciliatory note in the back of her throat. The perils of political power were not something she would ever have to worry about, but she knew enough to understand that she was glad of that, and did not envy Sophia her position, not in the slightest. Still, there was a lot of good to be done from one of those chairs, and someone had to occupy them. Better Sophia than almost anyone else she could think of, even if the woman was just as suited for the field and more direct approaches as she was for the diplomatâs trade. There was something admirable about that kind of flexibility; she only seldom met people who could slide from peaceful negotiation to more violent necessities with such skill in both. In fact⊠it might be that she only knew two.
The friendlier query drew a slightly-weary smile from her, like a mother with too many children, all of them running about underfoot. There was happiness in it, certainly, but also a kind of fatigue, though it was not extreme. âI think that perhaps if there is one thing the world will always need, it is anyone with a bit of skill in medicine,â she confessed, lifting a shoulder. Her formal requesting was done, so she felt comfortable easing the lines of her posture a little bit. âBusiness at the clinic is never done, really, but I spent this morning seeing to everyone who still needed me after the time I was gone, so tomorrow should be a little simpler.â And back to normal hours, which allowed her a little bit of flexibility, since she kept her late afternoons and evenings free in case her friends needed her for something. Most accidents happened during working hours anyway⊠at least the ones she dealt with. It would not be false to say that Nostariel was more than occasionally woken in the middle of the night for some emergency or another, but generally speaking, those who came to her were injured dockworkers or sick elves or people worried about their childâs cough.
A thought struck her then, and she figured she might as well inquire. âNot to bring up unpleasant things, but⊠has anyone managed to figure out what Jamie Arren was talking about, after he was caught? I know it was upsetting to your lord father, and I suppose I thought he might have set someone to looking into the matter?â She wasnât exactly comfortable with what seemed such a direct and rather meaningful kind of threat leveled so close to a friend, and that friendâs family. She knew there was likely not much she could do to help, but⊠âI mean, if you want me to, I can start poking around a little bit. Patients are surprisingly chatty, and you never know what kinds of things the laborers hear. A lot of them live in Darktown, and if you want to hide someone, you do it there.â
"It... has been a little difficult," Sophia admitted. "For everyone, I mean. Jamie and I grew up together. Ever since my father became Viscount the Arrens have been trying to match us, and my father was always agreeable with the pairing. Father was always fond of him, Jamie's own parents can't understand why he would do something like that. I've sent men to speak with him in the Gallows, but all he says is that I need to hear the words from Dairren's lips, and not his own." That thought was enough to put a chill in her, even in the warmth of the room. Dairren Quinn was a dangerous man, and her father had seen to it that there was no man with as high a price on his head since his apparent return to Kirkwall.
She realized Nostariel likely did not know who that was, and shook her head. "Dairren Quinn was captain of the city guard here for twelve years, the last six of which were the beginning of my father's rule. He's... actually who taught me how to use a blade, and he was an old friend of my mother's. Father considered him one of the family's closest friends, until it was revealed that he was corrupt, conspiring with the Coterie. He was exiled from the city nearly eight years ago."
She sighed, the weight of heavy memories slipping over her shoulders. "It's fairly clear to me that Dairren had repeated contact with Jamie before the assassination attempt, and that it was his will behind it. If he's in the city, it's possible he's integrated into the Coterie to some degree, and I suspect this is what makes him so difficult to find. I've had Ashton keeping an ear to the ground for me for some time now, but so far nothing's come up. I'd welcome another pair of eyes, but... well, Dairren was as much a spymaster as he was a guard captain. If he doesn't want to be found, it's unlikely we'll have any luck."
Sophia shook her head, obviously attempting to remain optimistic. "Really, though, I would appreciate the help. There aren't any official resources to devote to it with the state the city's still in. I'd go looking myself, but I'd hardly know where to start, and my time is terribly short as is." She frowned, glancing out the window to where the sun was finally beginning to drop past the taller rooftops. "I've been so busy, I've hardly left any time for my family. I couldn't even tell you where Saemus has gotten off to, and the only reason I'm here in court is because Father is focused on mending the situation with the Qunari." It was a little ironic, really, that the extreme efforts she went to for her family ended up leaving her further apart from them. She tried not to think on it too much.
Nostariel didn't exactly know what it was like to have a blood family, and sheâd never had to worry about her work taking her away from the other kind of family, but she nodded sympathetically anyway, reaching out to touch Sophiaâs elbow in a reassuring fashion. âWell, if itâs like that, I donât know if Iâll turn up anything useful, but Iâll pay attention just in case. You never knowâthings are connected in the strangest of ways, sometimes.â Sensing that it might be best to let her friend rest for the evening, and perhaps in need of some herself, Nostariel let her hand fall back to her side.
âJust⊠donât forget what itâs really all for, Sophia. I managed to forget, once, and it⊠letâs just say I hope thatâs a road you never have to travel. There is always more work, but you never know when the other things might disappear.â She didnât mean to sound morbid, exactly, but this was simply a lesson Nostariel had learned too well not to pass on as gently as she could.