"I haven't seen him even once since the party," Sophia said sideways, stepping lightly off the barge and back onto the hard stone of the Gallows. Ashton stepped down beside her, and the two of them entered the courtyard. She'd hoped to avoid returning to the Gallows so soon, but Sophia was steadily coming around again to the idea of doing things that seemed unpleasant to her, for a larger, better cause. This was the first step.
Jamie Arren had been allowed to rot in the dungeons ever since his attempted assassination of Sophia's father, and for a while his fate had simply been put off, while the consequences could be weighed, and while they waited for their emotions to die down from the heat of the attack. He was nobly born, after all, from a fairly respected family of Hightown, though his actions had done much to change that. His parents now held little sway, not nearly enough to get him removed from the Gallows. When the Qunari had attacked, finishing Jamie's task for him, he'd simply been forgotten, as had a great many things following the death of Marlowe Dumar. The Gallows were more than willing to keep him.
But Sophia was able to recognize that he wasn't doing any good rotting in a cell, and while she didn't enjoy the idea of being in his presence or even thinking about the man, he knew things that he kept from her, things about her father, things about Dairren Quinn. Things about her mother, maybe. She assumed he had learned most of this from Dairren himself, as he knew a great deal about her mother, having grown up with her, and about her father, having served him as guard captain for over twelve years before he was exiled for his corruption. She intended to find out today what he knew, and how he knew it. If he could lead her to Dairren, she could find a way to put this entire mess behind her.
She was dressed much like she had been to see Meredith again, light chain and leathers, her sword across her back. For once, Ashton was the more official presence of the two, the guard uniform lending more authority to the pair than her mercenary's attire ever could. She'd asked him along because he'd been there for as many steps of this as she had, and because Quinn was supposedly still at the head of the Coterie. Getting to him would be a massive victory for a guard, and Sophia was certainly interested in helping a man like Ashton advance where he was sorely needed.
"Have you done much questioning for the guard? I'll admit I'm not the most experienced with interrogations." She wondered how often he even had the choice to keep the criminals alive or not. Not often enough, no doubt.
"Not enough to call myself an interrogator unfortunately. Most of the criminals I deal with are usually too busy trying to run away or trying to kill me to answer any of my questions." Most of his job description of late consisted of patrolling through the streets and looking for anything suspicious, and then dragging those individuals to the dungeons-- if he was lucky that day. Fortunately, he'd been having more help, finally earning enough respect in the guard to be assigned with partners or volunteers. Diving head first into the more dangerous tasks all on his lonesome usually did that, if one managed to survive long enough. "I've watched a few though, so I'm sure we'll be fine," he added, flashing a smile.
It felt odd taking the lead while Sophia stood behind him. Not so long ago, their situations were reversed with him lingering in Lowtown and her in Hightown. Though she deigned to spend her time in Lowtown, she was still respected amongst the guard so her presence didn't hurt. From what he heard in the barracks, the guard would prefer her to having to sift through the rest of the nobility to find another, and Ashton had to admit to agreeing with the sentiments. She was the kind of person they needed-- though he didn't bring it up. Her choices were hers to make, and he didn't want to urge her into doing something she didn't want to. He'd side with her through whatever choice she made.
As they drew close to the entrance into the Gallows, Ashton hailed the pair of guards that stood beside the entrance into the dungeons. Though he was familiar with them, he still stated his name and rank. "Sergeant Ashton Riviera, Sophia and I've come to, uh, visit with a prisoner. Ask a few questions and the like," He said with a grin. One of the guards rolled his eyes while the other nodded, opening the door for them to pass. The guard that rolled his eyes spoke up before the door was closed behind them, "Don't forget Riviera, we have a patrol next week." Ashton waved and nodded as the door shut behind them. "Sergeant Riviera, pretty neat, huh?" He told Sophia, laughing.
Ashton led them through the dungeons, going deeper into the tower. He'd asked which wing Jamie was in before meeting with Sophia, and before long they drew into the hallway lined with bars.
"Neat, and well overdue, I'd say." It was sad to see lingering remains of the issues that had plagued the guard before holding Ashton back, but all things considered, he could have had it worse. Sophia had learned much about what the guard had gone through leading up to the Qunari attack, and part of that included a certain break-in to the Gallows that left no small number of guardsmen dead. It was quite likely they didn't know Sergeant Riviera had been involved in that little incident.
There was always a dampness in the air in the Gallows, the proximity to the crashing waves sending a constant mist up and over the walls, ocasionally filtering through the windows of the dungeon itself. These were now barred, to prevent further incursions. The prisoners themselves spread this soggy look; their cells were fairly abysmal in terms of cleanliness and basic comfort. Sophia couldn't manage much pity.
If there was a creature in here that could inspire such pity, it was Jamie Arren, but his actions had earned him nothing but scorn from Sophia. They found him sitting with his back to the bars, facing away from them. His hair was damp, unkempt, and ragged, his clothes threadbare and worn away. He looked to have lost a good deal of weight. He'd never been a large man; Sophia had known him to be of an excellent figure, more for appearances than for practicality, but now he was quite shriveled. It was a wonder he yet lived, she thought to herself.
"Jamie," she said strongly, to get his attention. Upon hearing her voice, he instantly turned around, clambering onto his knees and peering wide-eyed at her, clutching two of the bars before him and holding his face close to them. His eyes darted momentarily to Ashton, in the guard uniform, a glint of recognition there. He remembered Ashton being the one to stop him before he could take down his mark. For the moment, however, he seemed more concerned, or perhaps elated, at seeing Sophia again.
"Sophia!" he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He immediately worked to clear his throat. "I thought I'd never see you again. When I heard what happened with the Qunari, with the Arishok... I'm so glad to see you alive. You look wonderful."
"Jamie, stop." It was unnerving, that he would think expressing open care would win him any favor. She wished she could have seen this in him sooner. A dangerous mind, prone to desperate measures. An easy person to twist to one's will, if they were cold enough to do it. "I'm here for information, nothing more. It's time you told me about Dairren Quinn. Everything."
"Sophia... you know I want to. You deserve to know. But it didn't happen the way it was supposed to! You never became Viscountess. Which means... Quill never came to see you." He seemed disheartened by the thought, and slumped back on his heels.
"Seems a little depressed for a man who tried to kill both you and your father," Ashton said, tilting toward Sophia. He spoke loud enough so that Jamie could hear as well. He'd been there that night, he remembered Sophia fainting from the poison and the mad dash to find Jamie before he found the Viscount. He had little pity for the man who tried to assassinate his friend and throw the city into disarray. Ashton wore a firm face as he knelt down to his level and stared in between the bars.
"Things never work out the way they're supposed to, that's just how it goes. You say you want to tell her, that she deserves to know. Well, then tell her. It's not hard," He said, his voice even. He never really understood these types, the ones who claim to want to do something but never really do it. That she deserved to know yet never tell her. Ashton sighed as he shook his head, looking back up at Sophia.
"I never tried to kill Sophia," he said, the idea seeming to offend him greatly. "It wouldn't have, even if the healer hadn't been there. I swear." As annoyed as she was to admit it, Sophia figured he was right about that. Jamie's aggression had been towards her father, not her, even if she had the unfortunate part of being the unwilling distraction. An interesting approach to it. Had they not been as wary as they were, he might have reached the Viscount in the chaos and actually gotten away with it.
"You heard the Sergeant. Spill it, Jamie."
"I... that wasn't the plan. I was supposed to kill the Viscount, you were supposed to become Viscountess, and then Quill was going to tell you everything himself, when he delivered you the Coterie. He's just using them because he needs them, you see. Marlowe was watching for him, always. The Coterie was able to protect him, but it was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. So much time has passed..." His eyes fell to the floor, and he was clearly thinking hard. It had likely been a good deal of time since he had given this any thought at all. He probably had begun to think Sophia would never come to see him. She almost never did.
"You've had it backwards all along, Sophia. Quill was never the enemy, Marlowe Dumar was! For what he did, for what hung around Quill's neck. I'd tell you more, but..." he licked his lips nervously. "He can find ways to me in here, and if he's alive, if he's still got the Coterie, he'll find out I told you, and he'll kill me. I need... something, I don't know. If I just tell you, you'll just leave me here."
"Things are never simple, are they?" Ashton asked Sophia. Everything that Jamie said could've been a lie, there was no reason to trust him, but Ashton could understand the plan. If Marlowe was out of the way, Kirkwall fell to Sophia and whatever the former Viscount had on Quill would've died with him. Still, though what Jamie said made sense, Ashton took it all with a grain of salt and kept a healthy amount of skepticism. He'd make a poor excuse for a guard if he lingered on every word a man said behind a set of bars.
Ashton shrugged, letting Sophia digest the information before continuing with the questioning. "That's if he finds out. As far as I can see, there's only us three, and I don't plan on reporting to the Coterie any time soon." Ashton then chewed on his lip for a moment, looking like he was in deep thought before turning back to Sophia, "Of course, he could already know. I mean, the guard hasn't exactly been the beacon of purity of late," Despite all of his attempts to correct that, there were still some elements he was unsure about. He turned back to Jamie and spoke again, "Someone could've seen us come to talk to you so... It might not matter if you tell us or not. If there's a chance that you could've told us anything, well... would Quill take that chance?"
With that, he stood and brushed the dirt off of his knee plates before standing at a military ease, his hands locked at the wrists behind him. "It's up to you. Personally, I think that us coming to see you already sealed your fate. If you don't tell us anything, then there's nothing I can do. But if you do, then maybe I can work something out, if Sophia wishes it," He said, glancing at her.
Sophia remained against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching Jamie closely. She didn't respond to the idea of working something out, mostly because it was, as Ashton had made clear, irrelevant until Jamie supplied them with something. He'd given them a bit, in a sense, with the claim that Dairren had planned to betray the Coterie to her when she became Viscount. How that alone would somehow win her favor, when he'd just killed her father, was beyond her, but she supposed that detail was what Jamie was hiding from them still.
"I guess..." Jamie began, again thinking over things carefully. "Maker, he might be dead. The Coterie expected things from him too, with a tie established with the Viscountess and all. If they thought he was leading them on..." He glanced around, actually checking to see if anyone else was in earshot. Ashton's words were clearly weighing on him.
"Sophia, listen to me carefully." He sat up more attentively, taking a firmer grip of the bars and staring directly at her. "Marlowe Dumar's not your father. Dairren Quinn is."
He just stopped after that, as though that was supposed to suddenly make everything make sense, but Sophia stared at him, rather dumbfounded. "Sorry?" she said, trying to process it. Dairren Quinn was... no, Maker, that was too much. He was spewing as outlandish a claim as he could think of, to try and surprise her, and get her to give him something useful, or release him entirely. The surprise had worked, but the rest... she wasn't so sure about any of that.
"It's true, Sophia. It happened after the wedding. Your mother didn't want anyone to know, so she pretended like Marlowe was the father. I don't know how he found out, or why it took him so long, but when he did, Marlowe was going to have Quill executed. He was furious that his daughter, his perfect daughter, hadn't come from him at all. Quill had to flee the city, the Free Marches entirely. Marlowe pretended like he'd exiled him, conjured up some charges of colluding with the Coterie. When Quill returned, he used those charges to get the Coterie's trust, so he could cripple them at will when he made his move!"
Sophia could only continue to stare at him quite blankly. She'd known her mother and Dairren Quinn had grown up together, ran a mercenary company together. They were close friends, but... no, never like that. Why would she have married her father then? Social climbing? Her mother wasn't like that... was she?
"No, that's... that's quite ridiculous, Jamie."
"You see? This is why he couldn't just tell you. You wouldn't believe him. You'd hand him over to the guard, or see him dead. Marlowe refused to trust you with the truth when he learned it. Quill... Dairren wanted to be the one to tell you himself. He's always cared about you. He's always tried to look out for you, but... he told me, when we met, that he wasn't a good person, he didn't know how to be a good person. That was your mother's end of the arrangement, he said."
Could it be? Sophia was getting angry at herself for even entertaining the idea. Dairren had reached the rank of guard captain when Sophia was only five, serving seemingly with honesty and faith and loyalty until she was seventeen. She remembered him as a hard, even cold man to others, but to her... no, he'd clearly cared about her. He taught her to defend herself, when her father didn't want her getting ideas of fighting. He'd been more or less in the role of the favorite uncle for years. She would ask him about her mother a great deal. Why hadn't he ever told her then? Maybe... maybe he enjoyed things the way they were? Looking out for her, helping her, without being truly responsible for anything other than her safety, as guard captain? He didn't think of himself as a good man...
"There's no proof of any of this. Not anymore. I can't go and ask my father if it's true. I can't ask my mother. The only person I can ask is Dairren. I would very much like to pry the words from him instead of you." At least if she had him here, in Jamie's place, behind bars, she would know he wasn't a threat to her, using these elaborate lies to get under her skin, for some unseen purpose.
"If Quill's still alive..." Jamie began cautiously, as though he were treading on ice, "I can get him for you. I can get out ahead of this, find a way to get him to meet you privately, with your assurance that you won't kill or imprison him. He'll talk this through with you, I know he will." He then looked to Ashton. "You can do that, right? It's for a good cause. Think about it, the downfall of the Coterie at last. Quill can deliver. And if you think I'm just going to run... look at me, ser. I don't know how to live on my own. And if this doesn't work, then I'm probably dead anyway. Please... I want to help Sophia."
Ashton stared at the man for a time, with his hands still behind him, looking every bit the guardsman that he was. It was a lot to take in, that Marlowe may not have been Sophia's father, that this Quill could be, that all of this was some sort of convoluted plan to put Sophia in power and deliver the Coterie to her on a silver platter. "Why?" Ashton asked, "Why do you want to help so much? What do you owe Quill or Sophia?" he asked. He'd entertain nothing until he could ascertain Jamie's motives. There felt like it was more there than simple looking after his own hide.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sophia asked, but Jamie was quick enough to clear it up.
"I... Sophia never wanted me. I tried to be charming, but charming was never what she wanted. I... well, Quill found out, somehow, I don't know, and thought he could make use of me, maybe bridge the gap. Don't you have people in your life that you love, Sergeant? Wouldn't you do anything to help them, even if they decided they didn't love you back?"
Sophia was tempted to roll her eyes, but refrained. He was... a bit deranged, it was hard to deny, but if he could truly lead her to Dairren, maybe he could still be of more use than he was just sitting here in the Gallows. Even if everything he said about her birth was a lie. She would probably prefer it that way.
"And besides... what do I have left here now? I can never go back to my old life. At least I could still do some good this way, if I'm not wasting away in this cell."
Ashton sighed through his nosed and nodded, though the call wasn't his. He gestured to Sophia and led her out of Jamie's earshot. Satisfied that he couldn't hear, he began. "Look, you probably already know this, but he could be lying through his teeth. Attempted murderers aren't the most trustworthy bunch," He looked away for a moment and shook his head, making eye contact again, "But on the other hand... He could be telling the truth. The only person who can say for certain is Quill, and we still have no idea where he is." Ashton shrugged and waited a moment before going again.
"This is all yours, it's your choice. I'll help however I can." Ashton looked over her shoulder and down the hall where they left Jamie in his cell. "If you want to let him rot, we can leave and never think about it again. But if you want to do this," he said, looking back to meet her eye, "We can maybe work something out. The guard still has respect for you, and you were the injured party in this mess. If you were to ask a favor, I could probably get them to swing it."
Sophia didn't like this any more than Ashton did, but her perspective was a little different. She was pretty certain Jamie wasn't exactly right in the head lately, but she was also confident that whatever he thought, he didn't intend her harm. He'd demonstrated that he intended harm for people close to her, but as of now he didn't seem to have cause to go after anyone other than her father, who was no longer around to target.
She chewed softly on a nail while she thought, before finally settling on a decision. "I don't necessarily believe what he said, about my father and about Dairren... but he's our only way to him right now, if he's still out there. And if he's still out there, I want to talk to him." And if Jamie was telling the truth, well... she would cross that bridge when she came to it. It would be yet another complication in her life, in regards to the seat of the Viscountess, if it ever came to light as fact. But she didn't want to think about that now. She just wanted to resolve this.
"So... let's find a way to get him released. See if he can make good on his word to set up a meeting." She managed a small smile for him. "And thank you, Ash. You've always been steadfast for me in this. Even now that it just got a lot weirder." Answers were rarely as pleasant as she wanted them to be, and this case was no different.
"It always gets weirder," Ashton agreed, scratching the back of his head. "Don't worry about it, I told you I'd help, remember?"
Jamie Arren had been allowed to rot in the dungeons ever since his attempted assassination of Sophia's father, and for a while his fate had simply been put off, while the consequences could be weighed, and while they waited for their emotions to die down from the heat of the attack. He was nobly born, after all, from a fairly respected family of Hightown, though his actions had done much to change that. His parents now held little sway, not nearly enough to get him removed from the Gallows. When the Qunari had attacked, finishing Jamie's task for him, he'd simply been forgotten, as had a great many things following the death of Marlowe Dumar. The Gallows were more than willing to keep him.
But Sophia was able to recognize that he wasn't doing any good rotting in a cell, and while she didn't enjoy the idea of being in his presence or even thinking about the man, he knew things that he kept from her, things about her father, things about Dairren Quinn. Things about her mother, maybe. She assumed he had learned most of this from Dairren himself, as he knew a great deal about her mother, having grown up with her, and about her father, having served him as guard captain for over twelve years before he was exiled for his corruption. She intended to find out today what he knew, and how he knew it. If he could lead her to Dairren, she could find a way to put this entire mess behind her.
She was dressed much like she had been to see Meredith again, light chain and leathers, her sword across her back. For once, Ashton was the more official presence of the two, the guard uniform lending more authority to the pair than her mercenary's attire ever could. She'd asked him along because he'd been there for as many steps of this as she had, and because Quinn was supposedly still at the head of the Coterie. Getting to him would be a massive victory for a guard, and Sophia was certainly interested in helping a man like Ashton advance where he was sorely needed.
"Have you done much questioning for the guard? I'll admit I'm not the most experienced with interrogations." She wondered how often he even had the choice to keep the criminals alive or not. Not often enough, no doubt.
"Not enough to call myself an interrogator unfortunately. Most of the criminals I deal with are usually too busy trying to run away or trying to kill me to answer any of my questions." Most of his job description of late consisted of patrolling through the streets and looking for anything suspicious, and then dragging those individuals to the dungeons-- if he was lucky that day. Fortunately, he'd been having more help, finally earning enough respect in the guard to be assigned with partners or volunteers. Diving head first into the more dangerous tasks all on his lonesome usually did that, if one managed to survive long enough. "I've watched a few though, so I'm sure we'll be fine," he added, flashing a smile.
It felt odd taking the lead while Sophia stood behind him. Not so long ago, their situations were reversed with him lingering in Lowtown and her in Hightown. Though she deigned to spend her time in Lowtown, she was still respected amongst the guard so her presence didn't hurt. From what he heard in the barracks, the guard would prefer her to having to sift through the rest of the nobility to find another, and Ashton had to admit to agreeing with the sentiments. She was the kind of person they needed-- though he didn't bring it up. Her choices were hers to make, and he didn't want to urge her into doing something she didn't want to. He'd side with her through whatever choice she made.
As they drew close to the entrance into the Gallows, Ashton hailed the pair of guards that stood beside the entrance into the dungeons. Though he was familiar with them, he still stated his name and rank. "Sergeant Ashton Riviera, Sophia and I've come to, uh, visit with a prisoner. Ask a few questions and the like," He said with a grin. One of the guards rolled his eyes while the other nodded, opening the door for them to pass. The guard that rolled his eyes spoke up before the door was closed behind them, "Don't forget Riviera, we have a patrol next week." Ashton waved and nodded as the door shut behind them. "Sergeant Riviera, pretty neat, huh?" He told Sophia, laughing.
Ashton led them through the dungeons, going deeper into the tower. He'd asked which wing Jamie was in before meeting with Sophia, and before long they drew into the hallway lined with bars.
"Neat, and well overdue, I'd say." It was sad to see lingering remains of the issues that had plagued the guard before holding Ashton back, but all things considered, he could have had it worse. Sophia had learned much about what the guard had gone through leading up to the Qunari attack, and part of that included a certain break-in to the Gallows that left no small number of guardsmen dead. It was quite likely they didn't know Sergeant Riviera had been involved in that little incident.
There was always a dampness in the air in the Gallows, the proximity to the crashing waves sending a constant mist up and over the walls, ocasionally filtering through the windows of the dungeon itself. These were now barred, to prevent further incursions. The prisoners themselves spread this soggy look; their cells were fairly abysmal in terms of cleanliness and basic comfort. Sophia couldn't manage much pity.
If there was a creature in here that could inspire such pity, it was Jamie Arren, but his actions had earned him nothing but scorn from Sophia. They found him sitting with his back to the bars, facing away from them. His hair was damp, unkempt, and ragged, his clothes threadbare and worn away. He looked to have lost a good deal of weight. He'd never been a large man; Sophia had known him to be of an excellent figure, more for appearances than for practicality, but now he was quite shriveled. It was a wonder he yet lived, she thought to herself.
"Jamie," she said strongly, to get his attention. Upon hearing her voice, he instantly turned around, clambering onto his knees and peering wide-eyed at her, clutching two of the bars before him and holding his face close to them. His eyes darted momentarily to Ashton, in the guard uniform, a glint of recognition there. He remembered Ashton being the one to stop him before he could take down his mark. For the moment, however, he seemed more concerned, or perhaps elated, at seeing Sophia again.
"Sophia!" he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He immediately worked to clear his throat. "I thought I'd never see you again. When I heard what happened with the Qunari, with the Arishok... I'm so glad to see you alive. You look wonderful."
"Jamie, stop." It was unnerving, that he would think expressing open care would win him any favor. She wished she could have seen this in him sooner. A dangerous mind, prone to desperate measures. An easy person to twist to one's will, if they were cold enough to do it. "I'm here for information, nothing more. It's time you told me about Dairren Quinn. Everything."
"Sophia... you know I want to. You deserve to know. But it didn't happen the way it was supposed to! You never became Viscountess. Which means... Quill never came to see you." He seemed disheartened by the thought, and slumped back on his heels.
"Seems a little depressed for a man who tried to kill both you and your father," Ashton said, tilting toward Sophia. He spoke loud enough so that Jamie could hear as well. He'd been there that night, he remembered Sophia fainting from the poison and the mad dash to find Jamie before he found the Viscount. He had little pity for the man who tried to assassinate his friend and throw the city into disarray. Ashton wore a firm face as he knelt down to his level and stared in between the bars.
"Things never work out the way they're supposed to, that's just how it goes. You say you want to tell her, that she deserves to know. Well, then tell her. It's not hard," He said, his voice even. He never really understood these types, the ones who claim to want to do something but never really do it. That she deserved to know yet never tell her. Ashton sighed as he shook his head, looking back up at Sophia.
"I never tried to kill Sophia," he said, the idea seeming to offend him greatly. "It wouldn't have, even if the healer hadn't been there. I swear." As annoyed as she was to admit it, Sophia figured he was right about that. Jamie's aggression had been towards her father, not her, even if she had the unfortunate part of being the unwilling distraction. An interesting approach to it. Had they not been as wary as they were, he might have reached the Viscount in the chaos and actually gotten away with it.
"You heard the Sergeant. Spill it, Jamie."
"I... that wasn't the plan. I was supposed to kill the Viscount, you were supposed to become Viscountess, and then Quill was going to tell you everything himself, when he delivered you the Coterie. He's just using them because he needs them, you see. Marlowe was watching for him, always. The Coterie was able to protect him, but it was supposed to be a temporary arrangement. So much time has passed..." His eyes fell to the floor, and he was clearly thinking hard. It had likely been a good deal of time since he had given this any thought at all. He probably had begun to think Sophia would never come to see him. She almost never did.
"You've had it backwards all along, Sophia. Quill was never the enemy, Marlowe Dumar was! For what he did, for what hung around Quill's neck. I'd tell you more, but..." he licked his lips nervously. "He can find ways to me in here, and if he's alive, if he's still got the Coterie, he'll find out I told you, and he'll kill me. I need... something, I don't know. If I just tell you, you'll just leave me here."
"Things are never simple, are they?" Ashton asked Sophia. Everything that Jamie said could've been a lie, there was no reason to trust him, but Ashton could understand the plan. If Marlowe was out of the way, Kirkwall fell to Sophia and whatever the former Viscount had on Quill would've died with him. Still, though what Jamie said made sense, Ashton took it all with a grain of salt and kept a healthy amount of skepticism. He'd make a poor excuse for a guard if he lingered on every word a man said behind a set of bars.
Ashton shrugged, letting Sophia digest the information before continuing with the questioning. "That's if he finds out. As far as I can see, there's only us three, and I don't plan on reporting to the Coterie any time soon." Ashton then chewed on his lip for a moment, looking like he was in deep thought before turning back to Sophia, "Of course, he could already know. I mean, the guard hasn't exactly been the beacon of purity of late," Despite all of his attempts to correct that, there were still some elements he was unsure about. He turned back to Jamie and spoke again, "Someone could've seen us come to talk to you so... It might not matter if you tell us or not. If there's a chance that you could've told us anything, well... would Quill take that chance?"
With that, he stood and brushed the dirt off of his knee plates before standing at a military ease, his hands locked at the wrists behind him. "It's up to you. Personally, I think that us coming to see you already sealed your fate. If you don't tell us anything, then there's nothing I can do. But if you do, then maybe I can work something out, if Sophia wishes it," He said, glancing at her.
Sophia remained against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching Jamie closely. She didn't respond to the idea of working something out, mostly because it was, as Ashton had made clear, irrelevant until Jamie supplied them with something. He'd given them a bit, in a sense, with the claim that Dairren had planned to betray the Coterie to her when she became Viscount. How that alone would somehow win her favor, when he'd just killed her father, was beyond her, but she supposed that detail was what Jamie was hiding from them still.
"I guess..." Jamie began, again thinking over things carefully. "Maker, he might be dead. The Coterie expected things from him too, with a tie established with the Viscountess and all. If they thought he was leading them on..." He glanced around, actually checking to see if anyone else was in earshot. Ashton's words were clearly weighing on him.
"Sophia, listen to me carefully." He sat up more attentively, taking a firmer grip of the bars and staring directly at her. "Marlowe Dumar's not your father. Dairren Quinn is."
He just stopped after that, as though that was supposed to suddenly make everything make sense, but Sophia stared at him, rather dumbfounded. "Sorry?" she said, trying to process it. Dairren Quinn was... no, Maker, that was too much. He was spewing as outlandish a claim as he could think of, to try and surprise her, and get her to give him something useful, or release him entirely. The surprise had worked, but the rest... she wasn't so sure about any of that.
"It's true, Sophia. It happened after the wedding. Your mother didn't want anyone to know, so she pretended like Marlowe was the father. I don't know how he found out, or why it took him so long, but when he did, Marlowe was going to have Quill executed. He was furious that his daughter, his perfect daughter, hadn't come from him at all. Quill had to flee the city, the Free Marches entirely. Marlowe pretended like he'd exiled him, conjured up some charges of colluding with the Coterie. When Quill returned, he used those charges to get the Coterie's trust, so he could cripple them at will when he made his move!"
Sophia could only continue to stare at him quite blankly. She'd known her mother and Dairren Quinn had grown up together, ran a mercenary company together. They were close friends, but... no, never like that. Why would she have married her father then? Social climbing? Her mother wasn't like that... was she?
"No, that's... that's quite ridiculous, Jamie."
"You see? This is why he couldn't just tell you. You wouldn't believe him. You'd hand him over to the guard, or see him dead. Marlowe refused to trust you with the truth when he learned it. Quill... Dairren wanted to be the one to tell you himself. He's always cared about you. He's always tried to look out for you, but... he told me, when we met, that he wasn't a good person, he didn't know how to be a good person. That was your mother's end of the arrangement, he said."
Could it be? Sophia was getting angry at herself for even entertaining the idea. Dairren had reached the rank of guard captain when Sophia was only five, serving seemingly with honesty and faith and loyalty until she was seventeen. She remembered him as a hard, even cold man to others, but to her... no, he'd clearly cared about her. He taught her to defend herself, when her father didn't want her getting ideas of fighting. He'd been more or less in the role of the favorite uncle for years. She would ask him about her mother a great deal. Why hadn't he ever told her then? Maybe... maybe he enjoyed things the way they were? Looking out for her, helping her, without being truly responsible for anything other than her safety, as guard captain? He didn't think of himself as a good man...
"There's no proof of any of this. Not anymore. I can't go and ask my father if it's true. I can't ask my mother. The only person I can ask is Dairren. I would very much like to pry the words from him instead of you." At least if she had him here, in Jamie's place, behind bars, she would know he wasn't a threat to her, using these elaborate lies to get under her skin, for some unseen purpose.
"If Quill's still alive..." Jamie began cautiously, as though he were treading on ice, "I can get him for you. I can get out ahead of this, find a way to get him to meet you privately, with your assurance that you won't kill or imprison him. He'll talk this through with you, I know he will." He then looked to Ashton. "You can do that, right? It's for a good cause. Think about it, the downfall of the Coterie at last. Quill can deliver. And if you think I'm just going to run... look at me, ser. I don't know how to live on my own. And if this doesn't work, then I'm probably dead anyway. Please... I want to help Sophia."
Ashton stared at the man for a time, with his hands still behind him, looking every bit the guardsman that he was. It was a lot to take in, that Marlowe may not have been Sophia's father, that this Quill could be, that all of this was some sort of convoluted plan to put Sophia in power and deliver the Coterie to her on a silver platter. "Why?" Ashton asked, "Why do you want to help so much? What do you owe Quill or Sophia?" he asked. He'd entertain nothing until he could ascertain Jamie's motives. There felt like it was more there than simple looking after his own hide.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sophia asked, but Jamie was quick enough to clear it up.
"I... Sophia never wanted me. I tried to be charming, but charming was never what she wanted. I... well, Quill found out, somehow, I don't know, and thought he could make use of me, maybe bridge the gap. Don't you have people in your life that you love, Sergeant? Wouldn't you do anything to help them, even if they decided they didn't love you back?"
Sophia was tempted to roll her eyes, but refrained. He was... a bit deranged, it was hard to deny, but if he could truly lead her to Dairren, maybe he could still be of more use than he was just sitting here in the Gallows. Even if everything he said about her birth was a lie. She would probably prefer it that way.
"And besides... what do I have left here now? I can never go back to my old life. At least I could still do some good this way, if I'm not wasting away in this cell."
Ashton sighed through his nosed and nodded, though the call wasn't his. He gestured to Sophia and led her out of Jamie's earshot. Satisfied that he couldn't hear, he began. "Look, you probably already know this, but he could be lying through his teeth. Attempted murderers aren't the most trustworthy bunch," He looked away for a moment and shook his head, making eye contact again, "But on the other hand... He could be telling the truth. The only person who can say for certain is Quill, and we still have no idea where he is." Ashton shrugged and waited a moment before going again.
"This is all yours, it's your choice. I'll help however I can." Ashton looked over her shoulder and down the hall where they left Jamie in his cell. "If you want to let him rot, we can leave and never think about it again. But if you want to do this," he said, looking back to meet her eye, "We can maybe work something out. The guard still has respect for you, and you were the injured party in this mess. If you were to ask a favor, I could probably get them to swing it."
Sophia didn't like this any more than Ashton did, but her perspective was a little different. She was pretty certain Jamie wasn't exactly right in the head lately, but she was also confident that whatever he thought, he didn't intend her harm. He'd demonstrated that he intended harm for people close to her, but as of now he didn't seem to have cause to go after anyone other than her father, who was no longer around to target.
She chewed softly on a nail while she thought, before finally settling on a decision. "I don't necessarily believe what he said, about my father and about Dairren... but he's our only way to him right now, if he's still out there. And if he's still out there, I want to talk to him." And if Jamie was telling the truth, well... she would cross that bridge when she came to it. It would be yet another complication in her life, in regards to the seat of the Viscountess, if it ever came to light as fact. But she didn't want to think about that now. She just wanted to resolve this.
"So... let's find a way to get him released. See if he can make good on his word to set up a meeting." She managed a small smile for him. "And thank you, Ash. You've always been steadfast for me in this. Even now that it just got a lot weirder." Answers were rarely as pleasant as she wanted them to be, and this case was no different.
"It always gets weirder," Ashton agreed, scratching the back of his head. "Don't worry about it, I told you I'd help, remember?"