Private Tales Take the risk or lose the chance

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie's eyes fluttered shut as his forehead rested against hers. His words though seeking to soothe only brought forth a thousand other questions about what exactly the future that lay beyond that door looked like. She had so many fears, so many dreams, and a day was not enough to revaluate them all with Varys now in mind too. For whilst they had been friends before and she had thought of him in fleeting passing to her goals, now she found that her goals did not really matter without him being with her. It was a world altering realisation and one that would take time to adjust to.

Not to mention all the knew fears feeling this way for someone brought up.

"That's what I'm worried about, Varys," she opened her eyes to gaze up at him, her emerald gaze seeking for some understanding within his. "You already went through hell for me before. I can't..." she swallowed, her eyes drifting to the ear he had lost causing them to flood with pain and guilt. "I've never felt this way before about somebody. What if I love you too much and it makes me foolish? Makes us both foolish. If you were to get hurt I.. I don't know what I would do," nor what she was capable of doing. With her control so precarious and so heavily tied to her emotions she was worried that a simple spark of jealous could cause a disaster.

 

[Varys]

Varys felt the lingering smile on his lips only brighten at her worries. Not because they were invalid, but because they mirrored fears that he himself had once held. In that strange way, it only served to prove how deeply she cared for him. "Lottie..." He murmured, his face growing soft at her stare "I'd rather be a fool in love with you than a genius alone. That's how doing things with somebody you love works-- It's scary, but you have to learn not to look down."

Normally he would have kicked himself for saying something so cliche, but it was quite honestly the best way he could describe it. The hand at her cheek slid up to curl her hair around one of his fingers, and the elf let out a huff of air at the fear in her eyes.

Over one hurdle, onto the next.

"Did I ever tell you about the last time I was in love?" He asked. "She was... well, she had a master of her own. Even though we were so crazy over each other, we knew that we might be separated at any time. Instead of dwelling on that, we learned to enjoy the time we had." Varys was doing his best to make a complicated story a much simpler one, but he found the meaning behind his words to be prudent to Lottie's worries. "When the time came to split, It hurt. I took it... not very well." He pulled back a bit at his admission, averting his gaze for a moment.

"But I survived. And I found you again. I wouldn't have if I'd let fear control me."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

At the mention of his past lover, Lottie's lips pressed into a flat, irate line. It wasn't just the fact she was a lover from his past - one he professed to have loved - but that she had left him. She didn't care about the reasons why - whether it was some Master or Fate or something as mundane as a disagreement about how one liked their eggs in the morning - what she cared about was the memory of that hurt that had come into Varys' eyes the first time he had mentioned what had happened. Lottie didn't like the idea of anyone hurting him.

The scent of burning salt wafted from somewhere in the room as the illusion of a knife flickered in and out view beside the desk. Lottie barely seemed to realise it.

"Fine," she said eventually with a sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She supposed they couldn't really stay in here forever anyway and... well the adventures she had with him were a part of why she had fallen for him in the first place. As she sat up she pressed a soft kiss to his lips and then grazed her nose against his. "Just don't blame me if I turn all the houses in this city pink with purple spots."

 

[Varys]

The danger that her powers brought wasn't lost on Varys in the slightest, but he felt they'd made a small breakthrough when he'd pinned down the determinant of her magic being desire. He smiled against her lips, smiling back to her as he replied. "Ah, don't sweat it. Some of these places could use a damned makeover." The elves prided themselves on being so damned fashionable, but they fell into the trap of trying to look like everybody else, sometimes. There was a lot of similar architecture in some parts of the city.

Rising up from the bed and sliding the old shirt he'd picked out over his head, his face scrunched at the smell of salt. The jars had been placed back on the shelf where he'd had them before, and Varys followed the scent to the middle one, still sizzling after blocking a bit of stray magic.

He furrowed his brow, lifting the jar up and placing the lid over it before turning back to his lover. "How about this? Until you're comfortable, we'll carry one of these jars with us in case you toss some stray magic around." It wasn't a complete guarantee of protection, but it would stifle any minor hiccups. He secured the lid and wrapped the jar in a cloth, setting it by the door to grab on their way out. "We'll start slow today, get some food and I'll teach you some elven like you've been asking for."

A thumping sound came from below them, and the sound of the Innkeeper bellowed up the stairs.

"Varys! Get your skinny ass down here!"

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Varys' words were enough to make Lottie smile, her faith in him so resolute she did not question that he might be poking fun just a little. Clambering from the bed she did not bother with trying to find her clothes that had been lost whenever they had last walked through that door. Instead she moved to her bag that she had not unpacked out of habit and found clean clothes. Usually she would have worn breeches and a shirt, ready for anything that the day might throw at them, but that morning her fingers hovered over one of her few dresses instead. They were only playing with magic and learning language... she wouldn't need to run. Hopefully she would never need to run for her life every again. Before she could question what was so different about today she donned the appropriate underpinnings including corset and shift whilst Varys outlined the details of the day, then tugged the dress - white with purple flowers - on over her head, lacing the back up with practised movement just as the innkeeper bellowed up the stairs.

Lottie froze.

"Do... do you think he's going to tell us off?" They were grown adults, surely not? But then he had all but raised Varys from what he would say, maybe he felt some father responsibility. Lottie grimaced. Dealing with parents certainly had not been something she had thought to encounter.

 

[Varys]

Varys shrugged his shoulders as he opened their door to poke his head through. He never knew quite what the old geezer was fussing over, and sometimes it seemed like he found reasons to be angry at Varys over the smallest infarction. That was how it'd been when he was a young, worthless orphan off of the streets anyways. He'd like to imagine there was a little more respect between them now.

"We weren't exactly quiet about it, to be fair..." He muttered back to Lottie before calling down the stairwell. "Gimme a minute, you crotchety fool, 'less you wanna climb up here by yourself!" It wasn't meant to disrespect his old acquaintance, but honestly... the nerve to yell at his best-paying customer in such a manner. How truly unprofessional of him! Varys pulled the door closed to finish dressing, turned to speak to Lottie and...

"Whoah."

He'd been so preoccupied with the morning's preparation that he'd only just noticed Lottie's choice of outfit. Throughout the entire time, he'd known her, she'd almost always worn the same kind of clothes as he did, practical and light with ease of movement in mind. Today she was draped in a beautiful white dress, pristine with dots of purple cascading down the material. To see her in anything besides a tunic, breeches and a jacket was strange, but to see her in a dress...

"You look incredible, Lot."

If he weren't hungry, it would have been enough to change his mind about leaving the room.

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he nodded towards the door. "Come on, let's go see what the hell he wants."

---

"It's about damned time you two come out of there." Hassel was perched on a stool behind the counter, a small desk set up in the space strewn with papers that the older elf sifted through busily, a plate of steaming food set beside him. He didn't look up at Varys or Lottie, save a quick peek over his glasses to confirm it was indeed them. "Everything better be in one piece up there, and I'm charging you extra if I find holes in the wall."

Varys rolled his eyes as he moved to sit at a table, rubbing a palm along his forehead. Something about how foreign the air outside of their room was to him now that they'd spent so long inside of it was making him ache. "Oh, come off it. I'm not an animal, old coot. Assuming you're not here to scold us like children, what did you want?"

Hassel spun in his seat, producing a folded piece of parchment and placing it on the counter for Lottie to scoop up as she passed by. "Slide this to him, would you dear?" He asked, decidedly nicer to her than he was to her lover. "Old friend asked me to deliver you a message, said it was pretty urgent."

Varys felt his eyes narrow. The last time an old friend had found him, it had meant trouble for him and Lottie.

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

The world beyond their room felt sharp. Everything was brighter, crisper, more exaggerated to her mind. She found herself not knowing how to behave or hold herself, a conundrum she had not faced since she was 16. Nothing had changed in her physically, she had had sex before, and yet she did not feel like the same woman at all. That brought with it its own strange sensations. She knew this body yet did not. Knew her mind yet now did not. She was a stranger meeting herself for the first time. The lack of security in her own being made it that much harder not to flinch or wince at sudden noises or movements she would have once seen coming.

As such Lottie almost jumped out of her skin when the old man spoke to her. She had paused before joining Varys to get them both a mug of coffee from the small pot on the bar. She juggled the mugs into one hand to swipe up the envelope as she passed, looking at it with a scowl.

"What old friend?" she slid into the bench beside Varys, handing him the letter, then setting their mugs down.

"Do you need a hand with the plates?" she asked the Innkeeper with an innocent smile, trying not to wonder just how much the man had heard.

 

[Varys]

Varys shrugged, as unsure and wary as her as she passed him the letter. He brought the mug to his lips first, muttering gratitude to Lottie as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the sting of bitter heat on his tongue. He'd thought himself awake before, but he'd failed to realize just how groggy he was after so long spent on rather physical activities.

"I don't have a whole lot of old friends, and that's what worries me." Varys grumbled as he set down his coffee and began to scan the letter. Hassel shrugged at Lottie's offer of help before nodding to the coffee pot. "No, but you could get another pot started if you'd be so kind." If he was particularly offended by their lack of restraint over the last couple of days, he didn't show it.

Wearing the slightest smirk, Varys reached over and gave Lot's backside the tiniest of pinches as she rose, quickly moving his hand back to the letter and donning his most convincing mask of innocence.

"It's somebody from the Allirian Rangers." Varys called out to Beaufort as she replaced the coffee pot. Hassel slid back into the kitchen to prepare their meals and to avoid listening in. Soon the smell of cooking meat filled the small tavern room, giving the place a rather comforting atmosphere. "I worked with them for a little while... mercenary sort of deal..." He trailed off as he continued to read.

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"Varys!" Lottie hissed beneath her breath as her hand shot to the spot he had just pinched. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes seemed to glimmer as she glanced between him and Hassel to see if the innkeeper had seen. Thankfully he seemed too busy with the breakfast to be paying the two of them much mind. Which was just as well as if he hadn't seen he certainly would have guessed from the shade her cheeks had gone.

Shooting him another glare she walked over to the coffee pot and went about setting it to boil again. There was something calming about such a mundane task that helped ground her once more. She didn't have to think about the bigger questions in a place such as this. Would Varys want to settle down and run a little inn like this one?

She joined him back on the booth and peeked over his shoulder to look at the letter as she sipped her own coffee.

"Have they got work for you?"

 

[Varys]

Oh, he wore his very best look of innocence when she turned his way. Varys liked to think he could be downright cherubic when the mood took him. He wasn't right about that, but nobody had been cruel enough to burst that bubble just yet. He had no intentions of hiding their relationship, from Hassel or anybody else. If it earned him a few slaps and reprimands, it was all part of the fun.

"Hm? Oh, it's really more of a favor. I sort of owe them one." He turned his head halfway towards his sneering little apprentice and smiled knowingly. "They're actually the ones who got me an invite to that little party in Oban. The one that ended with a mysterious explosion and a missing tiara?" Varys supposed they both owed the Rangers in that way, for enabling their reunion.

Hassel reemerged after a moment with a plate of steamed greens and cuts of breakfast meet for both of them, smiling at Lottie and muttering his gratitude for helping before collecting his own empty plate and returning to the kitchen.

"They have a little embassy here in the city, they've helped Fal' Addas out of some pickles in the past. Anyways, apparently, they haven't heard from anybody there in a while, were hoping I'd check it out for them." It did strike Varys as odd, but he didn't think too much of it. More than likely the lazy rangers they posted here in the city were more interested in enjoying the finer aspects of Elven culture than working. "Whaddya think? Wanna go do some detective work later?"

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Varys' not so subtle reminder of what had happened at said party brought out Lottie's own version of an oh so innocent mask. She sipped at her coffee blinking up at him through her lashes over the rim of the mug looking to all the world as though she had no idea what he could be implying with his tone. When Hassel appeared she gave him her brightest smile - the smile that usually got a merchant to give her a better deal than they ought to - before she set aside her cup and tucked into the food. She was chewing her way through a nice thick slice of warmed bread and oozing honey when Varys finally finished explaining.

She gave an indifferent shrug; work was work in her mind.

"How much are they paying?" she licked the honey from her fingers.

 

[Varys]

Varys raised a single eyebrow at Lottie's sudden coyish reaction to the change of topic. Certainly, she hadn't forgotten about that little foray into arson and burglary, had she? After all, it had been such a big moment for both of them. He smirked and nudged her with his shoulder. "They're paying me forgiveness for my current girlfriend ruining the operation they were running at that party with her boneheaded plot." He chuckles, sliding a bite into his mouth.

Of course, the Rangers didn't know about the relationship between him and Lottie, but it was a funny coincidence that she of all people had interrupted the mission he'd been on at the time. Varys leaned back in his chair, dabbing at his face with a cloth to wipe some of the honey from the corner of his lips as he sighed satisfactorily.

"I'm kidding. But I did botch that job in Oban, so there isn't too much money involved, since they paid me to set that up." There was some monetary gain in it, of course, but the main reward was continued good favor with the Rangers. That was a more valuable commodity than it sounded, especially considering Varys' seemingly growing list of enemies. "Still, whoever's there might be able to give us some information on the people coming after you. Why they chose now, and where they might be planning to hit us next."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"Boneheaded?" She spluttered. If Lottie was remembering the evening correctly - and she had a rather fantastic memory as Varys would one day find out, most likely knowing his luck during a particularly bad argument - her plan had gone well. She had, after all, walked away with the Queens tiara. Sure there had been more fire than she had intended but that was always the fun of a mission. Adaptable would be how Lottie described herself to any employer.

She muttered something vulgar beneath her breath and sunk down into her chair as she stabbed as a piece of sliced sausage and egg. As Varys continued her mood soured further. Lottie's next stab at her food was done with more force than necessary. Her eyes took on a glassy sheen as her thoughts turned to him. The man who still claimed her as his. She let the fork clatter onto her plate, her appetite suddenly gone.

"We know who it is, Varys," she gave a defeated sigh. "I can run as far as I want and he'll chase. He wants me to know I'll never be safe whilst he's alive."

 

[Varys]

Varys shook his head at the defeat in her voice. He understood why she felt as helpless as she did, but such things were never so simple. Taking a bite off of his fork, he tilted the silver prongs towards her slightly. "We know who's hiring them, but you know as well as I do he's not about to get his own hands dirty."

It wasn't very 'Princely' to abandon your Kingdom to stalk a woman. Varys somewhat doubted Lottie's jilted bethroed would risk ruining his public reputation. "We find out who he's paying, we can use that to our advantage. You'd be surprised how few organized mercenary groups there actually are in Arethil. They all have weaknesses."

Lottie was correct about one thing, though: They wouldn't ever be safe so long as he was still breathing. That meant that they would eventually have to deal with him. Taking down a member of Dalriada's royal family... that was a tall task for anybody, let alone a single mage and his apprentice.

"Come on." Varys slid himself out of the seat and picked up their plates, setting them on the bar for Hassel to take care of. "Grab your things and we'll head over to the embassy and see what's up. I'll teach you some words during the trip."

He really did intend to teach her elven, honestly. They'd just gotten... distracted. A lot.

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

There was still a vulnerable apprehension to her eyes even when Lottie slid from the table and disappeared upstairs. By the time she'd returned with her pack however the shadows of her past were gone and her usual cocky grin plastered in place. She hadn't bothered to change; Varys had said they were just going over there to get some information. Hopefully that didn't turn into running across the rooftops again. Just in case however, the whip she usually wielded in a tight spot was coiled ornamentally up her arm. to a passer-by it would merely look like an odd bracelet which had been her sisters intentions when she had made it.

"Let's go help those Rangers out then," she heaved her pack onto her shoulder. Lottie might not have changed her outfit but she'd brought a change, along with the basic supplies she carried on any type of mission run.

Oh, and that crown. She was determined to pawn it on their way back.

 

[Varys]

Varys had been around Lottie long enough to realize she still wasn't certain of his logic, and he understood her concern. This wasn't some local roughneck they were trifling with here; their foe was a very real threat with very real power and influence. It would have been strange were she not worried.

Even so, nobody would have given the two of them a snowball's chance in hell of making it this far. If they could get through all that they'd faced so far, who was to say they couldn't prove an entire royal family wrong? Even if they failed, if this journey ended in his demise, he could say he went out fighting for the woman he loved.

What was so wrong with that?

Varys gathered up some of his own essentials and informed Hassel that they'd be back in a matter of hours. Once they were loaded up and ready to go, their wagon was once again rolling down the crowded, yet beautiful roads of the elven capitol, moving at a relatively leisurely pace behind a row of traffic in the morning market rush. In the meantime, he'd opened up one of the books she'd purchased, resting it on their laps as he pointed out some simple phrases, and ran her through the concept of connecting words.

"In common, you can say 'Apple Pie' and it's easy enough to understand. In elven, though, you need to connect these words with a bridge word. Otherwise, you're not talking about an Apple Pie, you're talking about an Apple sitting next to, or on top of a completely unrelated Pie."

It was about a half-hour trip with the traffic, but soon they came to a top outside a building that certainly stood out. Rather than the natural stone and wood buildings that comprised most of Fal'Addas, this one was brick, wedged in between two much more natural-looking structures. The white walls worked with the golden trim of its windows and doors, though, and it glowed in the sunlight. Varys slid off of his seat and walked to the bottom of the short staircase leading up to the entrance.

"Here we are. Looking rather quiet today, usually, Rangers would be coming in and out pretty steadily..."

The elf set his jaw and furrowed his brow.

"Stay close. I have a weird feeling about this."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

That journey would stay with Lottie for the rest of her life. She would recall it as the first time she had truly felt safe. With her sisters, living in the woods just outside Oban, there had always been a certain sense that their little home could vanish in the blink of an eye - and it had. Though, not in the way Lottie had ever imagined it would. But here she was with someone who had seen the darkness of her past, who had proclaimed his love for her despite it all, and was now sat there teaching her a language she had only ever dreamt about learning. She had never wanted a simple wagon ride to last so long in all her life.

Which was why when they finally rolled up to their destination and Varys uttered those fateful words, Lottie could only sigh in resignation.

"I feel like that is going to be stamped into my gravestone," she muttered as she clambered out the wagon after Varys.

 

[Varys]

A snicker met her worried words, and he turned his head to flash a warm smile back to his dearest. "You and me both. Maybe that's why we get on so well, we share the same curse." At least, knowing Lottie's history, nobody could claim that Varys had rubbed it off on her, they'd both been damned to inconvenience and danger from their first breath. Still, a life like that was a hell of a lot easier with the right partner. "But that just means I'll just have to come up with something witty for when they put mine next to yours." He decided, turning back towards the embassy and ascending the stairs.

Varys had only been here a couple of times, but it was never so quiet. Rapping his fist on the smooth surface of the door, he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, biting his tongue as he waited for an answer. Alas, there was nothing but dead silence on the other end.

"Mm..." He took a step closer to the door and placed his hand upon it's surface, brow knotted. "Suppose we're going to add breaking and entering onto my ever-growing rap-sheet. Take good care of my things if the authorities nab me, yeah?" He joked back to Lottie as he held a hushed conversation with what little life remained within the stripped wood of the door. It wasn't much, but he was able to kindly persuade it to open for him.

The inside was dim, with only the light pouring through the windows illuminating portions of the chiseled stone floor of the embassy. The lobby was empty, and the desk unmanned. Varys felt his lip curl upwards in a sneer. That wasn't a good start.

"Yeah, it's gonna be like that, then..." He stepped cautiously inside, muttering, "That's it, what they'll put on mine..."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"Maybe they're at lunch?" Lottie half joked as she ran a finger over one of the desks. She turned the digit towards him so he could see the thin layer of dust; definitely not at lunch then. That would be way too simple for them. Losing all sense of polite propriety as her instincts told her nobody would be returning soon enough to be able to yell at her for snooping, Lottie begun shamelessly opening drawers to the front desk to see what might be useful inside.

The first draw was full of unsorted mail, no doubt the job the receptionist had intended on dealing with upon their return. The second various files with carefully written notes atop them. The files themselves seemed to be cases and the notes on front the names of Rangers who were to be assigned them no doubt. The third draw was locked. Lottie crouched down and pulled out her roll of tools then spread them on the floor. A few moments later the draw clicked and she slid it open. Inside was a large leather box which she pulled out and set on the desk.

"What exactly did your letter say we were looking for?" she asked whilst starting on the boxes lock; she was sure they wouldn't mind her finding something with which to pay herself.

 

[Varys]

He held back a snort of laughter at Lottie's suggestion, giving her a quick look of chastisement out of obligation and little else. Varys shouldn't have been as comfortable with her rummaging through desks and drawers for clues as he was, but it wasn't as though he had much to go on himself. His first act was to snap his fingers and point to the torches on the walls, igniting them and giving them better visibility.

Not that there was much to see. Many of the offices behind the desk were ajar, empty, and cluttered, chairs and parchment strewn and askew. He leaned in a doorway, frowning at the picture before him. "Just... anybody. They suddenly stopped sending word back to Rangers Headquarters in Alliria." He stepped into the office, kneeling down to pick up one of the papers, nothing but a cost report for a mission... about two weeks ago. "But it looks as though they just dropped everything and left. Which... doesn't make any sense at all. These people lived in this building, most of them anyway. They wouldn't have anywhere to run to."

Run. That was the operative word, and the word that suddenly filled his ear from all sides of the entryway. Varys winced and grasped at the side of his head, rising back to his feet and walking back out to the desk. "Hold on a minute, Lot. I think--"

Run.

There it was again, like an echo off the sides of his skull. This time Varys was certain it was the fire of the torches speaking to him. Fire was a temperamental element, not usually prone to conversation unless it had something serious to discuss. That it called to him without provocation only further added to the direness of the situation.

"Something bad happened here." He relayed to Lottie, waving a hand and extinguishing the torches. "Recently, too. The ashes on those torches remember it, and they don't have particularly robust memories." The longer they pussyfooted about here, the more likely they'd be roped into even more trouble. They needed to sweep the building and get out, quickly. Nodding toward the staircase that climbed over the offices onto the second floor, he waved her to follow closely. "Come on, let's check the living quarters."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

I hate paperwork, the thief thought with a loud sigh as she riffled through the pieces of parchment. Each sheet seemed to be a long stream of numbers tidily calculated at the bottom and signed off. Expenses perhaps? Or invoices? She didn't recognise any of the names printed at the top.

"Varys?" Lottie forgot about the box and its contents as Varys appeared in the doorway clutching at his head as though someone had just shouted in his ear. She was by his side in a matter of moment, her fingers gently curling about his wrist to subtly check his pulse before sliding down into his hand. Her own heart was galloping at a thousand beats a moment and the reassurance of his touch helped bring her back down to Arethil. Walking into a strange, abandoned building? Fine. The possibility that he might be hurt? Terrifying.

The thought of continuing on when his magic was clearly telling him not to filled her with unease.

"Maybe we should listen to the ash and leave..."

 

[Varys]

His boot had found the first step when he heard the worry saturating Lottie's voice. The distress in her throat was enough to make him pause, turning to reassure her with a smile, only hints of the pain that had shot through his head remaining in his expression. "Just one quick look, Lot. I can handle myself if things go sideways, you know."

It wouldn't be enough to send correspondence back to the Rangers and tell them that he'd checked the first floor and found nothing. Still, the ashes' pleas did bother him a bit, and that nagging voice in the back of his mind knew that Lottie was right; they needed to get the hell out of here.

He'd be fast, he reminded himself and took another step up the staircase. Again he heard the calls of the potted plants, the mice in the walls, and the bugs in the windows to flee far and never return. The Speaker winced, and the next step he took upon the steps caused him to drop to a knee. Varys brought his hand down to catch himself and felt a wet warmth coat his palm. Confused, he brought his hand back up from the dark wooden steps...

His flesh was stained with scarlet.

The sound of a restrained gasp filled the empty all as his breath caught in his throat, his head rising to look up towards the landing at the top of the staircase. He hadn't seen it against the dark-colored steps, the trail of blood, as though something or someone had been dragged to the second floor...

"They're all dead."

Varys spoke in little more than a whisper, before quickly turning his body and letting himself slide back to the bottom of the staircase, landing on his feet and taking Lottie's hand with his own, the one not stained in blood.

"We need to go, right now!"

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie muttered beneath her breath about how losing an ear had clearly meant he'd lost his ability to listen to sense but dutifully trudged after him. She was glad she had changed into her boots even if they did not exactly go with the feminine dress. The worn, well moulded leather made her footsteps whisper quiet and she did not find herself worrying about them when they stepped into the room of blood. Despite her years as a Highway woman and living in the forest, death had not been a common thing. Her sisters had never sought to cause harm, though of course there were moments when they had been forced to take a life to save their own. For the most part, however, their trade had been more of a long giant prank.

The sight of the room - the barest glimpse what with her being behind Varys - was enough to have her hurrying back down the stairs after him without much of a second thought. That was, at least, until they hit the bottom of the stairs.

"Wait, wait, wait," she said breathlessly, putting a hand to her chest. "What killed them? They're going to ask us that."

 

[Varys]

"Oh, 'now' you want to investigate?" Varys asked incredulously, his face flush, be it from shock or fear, who could tell? "These weren't harmless civilians, they were bleeding Rangers!" Trained in combat, well-armed and prepared to face threats. Some of whom Varys had served with at the battle of Farreach Woods. "It wasn't an accident, they were murdered by another group."

Niv's crew? No, they'd taken too big of a hit when Lottie had gone berzerk. Niv was powerful, but he alone wouldn't have been able to down an entire company of Allirian Rangers. This was something else, something much, much worse. Taking another brief look up at the staircase and feeling his blood go cold again merely at the thought of such a force, another realization began to dawn on him.

Again he began to move for the front door, raising his hands and seeking out any remaining life in the brick construction of the building around them. The embassy wasn't made with the tender care for its components the way an elven building was, and finding any whisper within the chiseled brick was a tall task.

"Lottie, get down!" He turned his head to call back to her even as he struggled to find a voice to speak to within the walls. "It's a trap! I don't know who, but--" The sound of shattering glass interrupted him as arrows began to sail through the windows with wild abandon, screams coming from outside as passersby flee and take shelter from the sudden violence.

Fuck, I should have listened to her. The thought ran through his head far too late, arrows whizzing past his head as finally, he heard the pathetic whimper of rock within the bricks of the embassy.

"It's okay... Help me, and you can rest."

Pulling his arms back with a shout, Vays managed to pull two solid chunks of brick from the ceiling above them, guiding them on their descent to land in front of the broken-out windows, only the dull thudding of the arrows remaining before the sound stopped entirely. The sound of shouting men soon followed, as local guardsmen rushed to the scene.

Varys dropped to a knee, panting for a moment.

"We need to get to the wagon, get our things, and get the hell out of this city. I think your bethroed has narrowed his search."

Lottie Beaufort

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

"Well that's why we need to--" Lottie's protest was cut off by the sudden shattering of glass and the whistle of arrows. No stranger to an ambush, she hit the ground a second before Varys called out and threw her arms over her head to protect her face from the shattering glass. Oaths that would have made even Blanche blush were drowned out by the noise of the onslaught. Making sure to stay in a crouch and not let her bare skin touch the glass littered floor, she crab walked her way to the desk she had been emptying earlier to take shelter behind it.

"This isn't him," she called over the din. "He wouldn't risk killing me, and he wouldn't risk war with the Rangers," her fiance was a coward deep down. He preferred to manipulate his enemies and his friends with the power of words rather than brute force. He found it more elegant. More satisfying. It made her feel sick. Carefully she peaked over the desk to see what exit options they had and ducked back behind the desk with a grimace.

"They've got this place surrounded, our only hope is the roof."