Suspicious Distraction

Posted on 11 Dec 2020 @ 5:26am by Rogue Jaslyn & Rogue Cainan Sauvage

2,914 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Lore's Labour's Lost
Location: Outside Refugee Camp
Timeline: Cloudreach 16th - morning

OOC: following post 'When there's no Meeran or Athenril' and concurrent with post 'Found Cake'


Cainan blocked out the sound of singing as best he could as he took in the sights, sounds and smells of the refugee camp. And there were a lot, of each. He could smell the funk of desperation and hardship; the hunger as they looked at his coat, and the cogs wheeling as they took in the look of his sword; Cainan knew his own capabilities and stood unfazed, but the place left a bad taste in his mouth.

Jaslyn had been weighing the possible ways she could get Sauvage's attention and draw him into a preferably private conversation. So far she had considered picking his pocket, challenging him to a duel, and propositioning him. But then, the Chantry sister instigated a singing distraction and an opportunity Jaslyn could not resist. The elf took advantage of the crowd to ease up close. She rested her hand on his arm and spoke in a low voice pitched only for his ears. "Pardon me, monsieur Sauvage, I need to speak with you." Without another word, she strode back toward the alienage and came to a stop, within sight of his companions, but well out of hearing range.

Cainan turned and watched the figure move away, not so far to be advantageous for an ambush, but definitely separating him from his companions. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have bothered approaching, but the woman, whoever she was, knew his name… and while Cainan did his best to be well known, he couldn’t fathom how his reputation had preceded him in these parts.

“I’ll be back shortly,” Cainan said over his shoulder, absently, as he watched her walk away. He knew the guardsman would take care of Sister Elinowy, and he had been feeling surplus to requirements anyhow.

Cainan approached where the woman had stopped, his eyes taking in the surroundings as he went. No obvious signs of a trap; other than the woman herself; she was shorter than him, obviously lithe, and to his eye did not hold herself like the refugees around them; at least, so far as he could tell from his vantage point. The weighted lines of her cloak gave away the presence of weapons at her hips, and though he couldn’t tell for certain, he guessed knives or perhaps short swords. That in itself was not so concerning, half of everyone he had passed had at least a knife on their belt.


Jaslyn watched Sauvage approach her position, and when he got close, she threw back her hood, poised to draw her daggers. She had changed since the last time she saw this man in Val Royeaux. Back then men such as him would have regarded her as an insignificant, invisible servant. Now, she was a Grey Warden. He might not recognize her at all. Or if he did, she was ready in case he attacked.


Cainan stopped to take in her features, fighting the urge to give her his most winning smile. She was elven, and a redhead, with fair features and full lips - all things he enjoyed, but he held himself back from his instinctive flirtation; something beyond the woman knowing his name in a place like this. Something about her face was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. But her eyes… They were the deepest green, beautiful, and somehow haunting. He felt an itch at the back of his neck as she met his gaze, like a warning of danger he couldn’t see. Curiously, he had felt it once before, though why the only time he had seen a darkspawn would come to mind as he gazed into the eyes of a fairly beautiful elven woman, he could not say. He ignored the feeling, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment longer before he took in her features again. He knew he was staring, but she was a puzzle; he was certain he had definitely seen her before.

“Your face is familiar to me,” Cainan said, slowly, finally. He cocked his head to the side slightly as if it would help him remember. “You have me at a disadvantage to know my name when I don’t know yours; under normal circumstances, I might assume to have crossed your path in some tavern, where I would no doubt have propositioned you, but I would definitely remember those eyes of yours if I had,” he said, leaning back, casually - a move to set her at ease if nothing else. She was a taught spring; he wondered for a moment if she had been hired to kill him, but her face lacked the expression of one ready to kill. Then again, he doubted the best killers gave such signs away.

Cainan took a moment and glanced over her frame - leather armour, well suited to her. She was no refugee, that much was certain. Neither was she a conquest of his, either - no chance he would forget waking next to her, and he could count on one hand the number of elven women he had bedded. But she was certainly not just using his name - there was a look in those eyes that indicated she knew exactly who he was.

It seemed that Sauvage recognized her but didn't know who she was. Jaslyn nodded to herself, she wasn't out of danger yet. His bold statement that under other circumstances he would have propositioned her brought a brief smile to her lips. If she'd encountered a handsome man like him in a tavern, she likely would have made advances first. Jaslyn filed that prospect away for later consideration… if he didn't try to kill her after she explained who she was and what she wanted.

"My name is Jaslyn." She watched him carefully for any indication that he'd begun to remember her as she dispassionately stated the pertinent facts. "In Val Royeaux I was the servant and friend of Helana Dimont when she became the wife of your friend and gambling partner, Antoine Marchal. I am the elf accused and convicted of his murder. However, the Grey Wardens disappointed the hangman by recruiting me."

So far, Sauvage hadn't drawn his sword, so she pressed on. "I saw you at the Rose of Orlais last night, playing cards with another friend of Marchal's, Richelieu, and two other men. You helped that serving woman – Camila. I thought, perhaps, you'd be willing to talk to me about a problem impacting the elves and the poor of Jader."

Cainan looked at her, as comprehension dawned. "Helana's servant..." he said, slowly, as he took a moment to look at her.

Suddenly, he was back in that smokey parlour room, laying five cards of the same theme and flashing his winning smile at the quiet rage behind Antoine's eyes flashed, briefly, before his facade slipped back into place, and he tossed the cards down, sourly. He knew there was something behind that mans eyes, the man had anger problems, but he had never imagined...

Cainan had always been a carefree person - a man who beat his competitors without thought of how that affected them. 'Lacking in grace', his father had once said; not unkindly - it had been an attempt to dissuade him from his lifestyle, born of love. And he hadn't listened. And then, Antoine had missed their weekly game. And then, Richelieu had, in a quivering tone, imparted the events of the night after they had left. How Antoine had taken his frustrations out on his wife, as (unbeknownst to them both) he often had. Cainan had just watched Richelieu as he relayed the story.

They hadn't played that night.

He was lost in bad memories for a moment; he didn't know who had killed Antoine, Helena or Jaslyn - but he knew his part in the suffering that had come before, and that had been exclusively theirs. He had come here on a whim, half anticipating to be bored and wander back to a bar when Elinowy was done stringing him along, and now... he found himself not caring what it was this woman wanted from him - only that he had been the cause of significant suffering, and he felt guilty.

"I'm sorry, you were saying about a problem?" he asked, shaking off the bad memories.

Jaslyn watched Sauvage's reaction warily for any sign that he might take revenge on her for the murder of Antoine Marchal. Recognition flickered in his visage, followed by regret, and some other emotion she could not identify. She had the impression that she was witnessing a rare thing, a slip of his gambler's mask that momentarily had her thinking of other unguarded expressions she might enjoy eliciting from him.

It seemed he was willing to listen.

"A number of elves have gone missing, and Hahren Liriel asked me to look into it. Rumors are circulating about work being offered with exceptional pay." She paused a moment, still watching his handsome face. It was possible that Sauvage and Richelieu could be in it together.

She paused for a moment, and Cainan had the idea that he was being judged for a moment as she studied him with the same intensity as he had studied her. She was still guarded - and he could guess why; from her perspective, he was an unknown, and possibly complicit in the actions of the monster Antoine. Maker, if he had known what that man’s habits had been…

“I’ve seen the posters,” Cainan affirmed, looking back to where the others had been standing; they were following one of the men off on a lead. He supposed this wasn’t the actions of a diligent bodyguard, after all; but sister Elinowy had a member of the literal city guard with her, so he supposed he was off the hook; though seeing her under those robes was decidedly off the cards. Still, it had always been long odds to get that far to begin with; he’d suspected she was merely toying with him in any case. But it would have been interesting to be the loyal bodyguard for a change, at the very least. “Sister Elinowy of the Chantry, her companions and I came looking to see what could be found of these… mysteriously generous offers, and the people that took them up,” he added, leaving out that Martin was with the Guard; he doubted anyone here didn’t already know, but there was no fortune in confirming it. “I don’t suppose you have anything on the disappearances? What they might be being taken for?” he asked, though the most obvious answer was not a pleasant one.

"The first possibility I considered was that elves were being gathered together to be sold to Tevinter slavers. But such an endeavor would be difficult to hide, and I could find no evidence among the ships and cargos in port. And I've heard that humans are also disappearing." Not that humans couldn't be sold into slavery, but the humans in power were more likely to take notice.

Cainan frowned at that. Missing elves… Elves weren’t slaves in Orlais, but equally did not attract much support from the establishment, either; in a way, more people might notice if they were property, but humans being in the mix was more brazen, and - rightly or wrongly, someone should have noticed. That said, the humans in question were refugees, and Cainan doubted many in Jader would inquire if some suddenly stopped being on their doorstep. “It’s hard to move slaves by land, and near impossible to do it this close to the border and not be seen doing it; if they aren’t being shipped out, then the people might still be local. But for what purpose?” he mused, trailing off. “I don’t suppose you found anything in your searching that might hint at the answer?” he asked, acknowledging that she had clearly been at this much longer than he and the others had been. And there was still the query of why she had approached him in the first place; her body language was closed, she didn’t view him as a friend, or at least, didn’t know what to make of him. So why approach? He knew there was something that she wasn’t telling him - some card she had yet to lay down, and he was ready to call.

"One thing I did find… Until quite recently, Captain Richeleiu was deeply in debt, and the reasons for his change of fortune are not public." She stopped short of suggesting Richeleiu was guilty of something.

Cainan blinked, and he unconsciously felt the weight of his purse on his hip; half the coins in that leather pouch would not be there had it not been for Richelieu’s recent change of fortunes. And it had been an abrupt change, and not one from playing cards, either - at least, not with Cainan. Richelieu had always made bets his wallet could not cover, and Cainan, through good-natured sportsmanship (or perhaps a streak of an overly-competitive ego) had always let him.

But Richelieu involved in anything nefarious was almost laughable. “Javert Richelieu is a fair seaman and a bad gambler, but he’s no slaver,” he said, almost laughing at the notion. “I’ve been on his ship; served on it, even.” It was how they had met, the good captain allowing him on board. His cargo had been cloths and silks, destined to be turned into fashion items for the Val Royeux elite. “He deals in overpriced silk and makes his living feeding the millhouses of Val Royeux.”

But he could not deny that there had been questions he had wanted to ask regarding the sudden windfall his friend had come into; questions he had pointedly not asked, because deep down he did not want to be responsible for the answers. Oh Javert, what have you done? he asked himself, silently. But no, it couldn’t be…

He had not spoken for a few moments, and Cainan forced himself to swallow his doubt and clear his throat.

“What is it you think he has done?” he asked, unable to look her in the eye.

Jaslyn shrugged. "Perhaps he has done nothing, or perhaps you don't know your gambling partner as well as you think." Sauvage had acknowledged he recalled Jaslyn as Helana's servant, but so far had not expressed an opinion on the adequacy of her punishment for the crime of killing his friend. "Or perhaps he knows or has seen something. Something that did not strike him as nefarious at the time."

"I would ask two favors of you, Monsieur Sauvage," said Jaslyn. "First, will you go with me, to speak to Captain Richelieu, and find out what he knows and if he is involved?"

Cainan wanted to say no; he didn't want to pull on these threads, lest the tapestry of his friendship with Richelieu start to unravel. But he couldn't. The last time he had ignored warning signs, two women had nearly died and it was only because they had defended themselves that Antoine had been stopped. "... I will go with you to learn what the truth of the matter is, whatever that may be," Cainan replied, sighing. He hoped Richelieu wasn't involved, but he couldn't take that chance... not again.

"Second, as a courtesy," said Jaslyn conversationally, "I would appreciate your telling me if you intend to complete the hangman's job and execute me for my crime."

Cainan blinked for a moment, trying to figure out what she meant, before the obvious dawned. "You mean Antoine?" he asked, frowning. It was then he realised, he hadn't realised what had happened after Antoine's death; Richelieu had not made him aware of the fate of the women involved, though Cainan had known Antoine's wife had returned to her parent's estate, for a time; he had always assumed her servant had either returned with her, or moved on to get away from the region. Shame gripped him, and he felt once again that he was indebted to her for Antoine's actions and, more importantly, his own inaction. "I... never expected you to carry a sentence for what Antoine did. As far as I'm concerned, the only person who needed punishment got what he deserved. You have nothing to fear from me."

"Thank you." The tension finally left her form, and Jaslyn gave a short nod. Then she looked him up and down in a frank, appraising way. "Good. I can think of many more interesting things we can do together, rather than fight to the death."

The glint in Cainan's eye returned as he smiled back at her. "Oh, really?" he asked, giving her an equally appraising (and appreciative) look. "Well, I'm sure a fight between us would be fairly interesting, so the bar is already pretty high," he said, smirking. He looked back towards where he had left Elinowy, Martin and Kalian. "...and it seems my commitments have wandered off together," he added, amused. "That leaves me free if you had any ideas of where to go from here...?"

Jaslyn grinned back at him. She did indeed have some ideas.

 

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