Private Tales Take the risk or lose the chance

[Varys]

Varys had the notion to brace himself this time, stiffening his back enough to withstand the blow of the centaur's mitt, albeit with a noticeable wince. It was part his own personal pride at stake, and part fear of an embarrassing fall to the feet of his partner, who was too busy gawking to notice her lover being slapped around by a Horse-Man anyway, it seemed.

"Actually Braig, I think you'll find that most all creatures do that, including centaurs." Varys coughed, fairly certain that the hooved man's lack of formality was very much a personal quirk of his and less indicative of his entire race. Braig was already turned, though, his hooves clacking against the tile floor of the room as he led them both back to his office. Still clearing his throat after having most of the wind knocked out of him, Varys briefly looked to Lottie and shrugged his shoulders, following close behind.

The office was a cozy one, and sizable at that. No doubt they'd been sure to give Braig a large room to accommodate his size, but even then it was an impressive setup. For all his social indiscretions, the Centaur was clearly more than capable at his job. The elf bit the inside of his cheek as he watched his 'friend' trot around the desk to lower onto the large pillow behind it, stepping forward to stand beside Lottie, rather than sit himself.

There was a smattering of nerves with delivering such grave news, after all. Beaufort was a comfort, and either way he doubted they'd be sitting in this room for long...

"Braig... The embassy was attacked." Varys leaned on Lottie's chair, his voice low, tone solemn and words chosen carefully. It was likely the centaur likely had colleagues in the Fal' Addas branch, and to hear this would be... well, as tough as it had been to see it. "I'm not sure by who, or when, but... nobody made it out, as far as I can tell."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie braced herself for a roaring outburst of rage and grief but... it never came. Instead Braig gave a great sigh and his shoulders slumped, as though he had been waiting for the blow the moment he had seen them.

"I had hoped..." but whatever he had hoped went unsaid. He stared out of the round window that flooded his office with light instead, illuminating the lines of a grief well worn and an anger unsated. He had clearly come to terms with the news they had delivered a long time ago. A part of her found that suspicious. If she had ever thought her sisters were dead, she would not have sent someone else to check. She would have scowled every inch of the place and then hunted down whatever bastards had killed them. He had lost Rangers - a lot of them - and he just sat there.

Finally he looked up but not at them, at the door behind them. He murmured a spell - or at least Lottie assumed a spell - and the door shimmered.

"We won't be heard now. Thank you for being my eyes, Varys. I couldn't risk sending another Ranger because... well I'm not sure I can trust any of them."