Chapter 6 - What He's Worth
Ignis cringed at the tasteless wooden sign hanging above the perfidious-looking flight of stairs leading down to the door. It said something about his soon-to-be conversation partner that they had wanted to meet him here, of all places. Swallowing what he could of his distaste, Ignis tried to hold back from wrinkling his nose at the plain door leading into Whitewater tavern.
As soon as the wood moved out of his way, he was greeted by the brainless bangarang. Rolling his eyes at the decadent tastes of the common folk, the adviser nevertheless crossed the threshold into the shady-looking speakeasy.
He had come here for a purpose, after all; the slender fingers wrapped around the crumbled piece of paper stuffed deep into the folds of his jacket.
Not wasting a minute (equally eager to hear what the stranger had to say as he was to get out of this place, pronto!), Ignis made his way passed the tables of rowdy patrons, directly to the bar. Some eyed the oddly dressed pretty face for a longer while, muttering amongst themselves and gesturing towards the adviser, but they lost their interest quickly as Ignis painstakingly avoided making an eye contact.
There were only two members of staff in sight, only one of whom matching the criteria provided in his 'invitation'. It was clear to him that the girl's responsibility was the hall, whereas the old woman (probably her mother, judging by the telltale ginger of their hair and the inherited robust bust region, Ignis noted) kept to the counter while keeping a close eye on the maid buzzling amongst the eager audience.
Putting up the languid front, Ignis settled to the bar. The woman raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar face, but it was swiftly wiped out as the man motioned to order. With hardly more than a light scoff, she poured him a pint, and unceremoniously slammed it in front of him. "That's a toppence then, laddie," she drawled with a hint of boredom in her voice. Narrowing his eyes a little, Ignis had to almost bite his cheek to not comment on the service he was receiving, but dug out the money, anyway. With a showmanship-like gulp of his drink, mainly to please the woman and not to draw any more unwanted attention, Ignis nodded a form of thank you and made himself comfortable.
Ignis let his eyes go around the crowded pub for a while as he pretended to engross himself in his drink. His gaze stayed with a beautiful brunet with wild curls and a tanned complexion, dark eyes and a cunning smile. The woman was flaunting herself shamelessly around a game of cards, the men's collective attention now anywhere except in their game. To be fair, Ignis couldn't blame them.
Simple men had simple desires, after all.
"Say, ma'am…"
"Oh, it's a 'ma'am' now, eh? Your making Ol' Lettie here blushin', pretty lad," she chuckled a little, feigning innocence, although Ignis could tell she hadn't had an ounce left in what he believed to be decades.
"Well then, Miss-"
"Jus' call me Lettie here, lad. That's what they call me in these parts."
"Miss...Lettie, then. Say, I heard you had some...pleasurable company to offer?" Instead of money, though, he dug out the note from his pocket, pushing it along the bar in an innocuous way, just enough for her to see the neatly drawn "D" in the lower corner. Her eyebrows knit a little, a more piercing stare was fixed onto the adviser, but to his grace, Ignis barely flinched at the sudden scrutiny he was subjected to. Her face had become unreadable.
"Follow me," Lettie deadpanned, already motioning for him to circle around the bar. Ignis did, but with caution. All the warning bells in his head had gone off at the sudden standoffishness, and although Ignis allowed himself to be led, he was now tense and on edge as the woman led him through a door to the back, towards the private quarters, and the thought of this potentially being a really bad idea resurfaced in his mind again. He really had no reason to trust these people. The borderline hostile way the vague message had been delivered should have been a warning sign enough, not to mention the proposed place. And although this 'Lettie' didn't seem particularly dangerous, Ignis had the feeling the woman could hold her bluff. He could be walking into a trap, for all he knew, and yet he was welcoming that risk with open arms. For if these people were right...if they had even an ounce of information about Noct...any risk was well worth taking.
They reached an inconspicuous door leading into what Ignis presumed to be a room for the staff or the owners' private use. Lettie turned around. "Here." Ignis blinked at the tone. What had come off as almost repelling just now was now kinder, a fragility Ignis couldn't interpret lacing the words. Like the woman had trusted him with a great responsibility. It puzzled him, greatly; what had brought this change? Before he had the chance to ask, though, Lettie was already pushing passed him to return to the bar. His mouth half-open in a caught-up question, Ignis debated stopping her, but as she never even glanced behind her again, the adviser, with a soft snort, closed his jaw, and fixed the door with an interrogative stare, and knocked twice.
"Come in."
Gulping a little, Ignis took a deep breath to calm the sudden flutter in his heart - and pushed the door open.
The room wasn't really much to look at. Four beds, two on each wall. By each bunk's side was a small nightstand with a washbowl and towels on it, and there was a large trunk at the foot of each of them. Everything about it screamed 'commoner', and Ignis had to suppress the urge to scoff audibly.
His attention was quickly drawn from the mundane decor as the figure standing in front of the tall windows turned around. "You came." Even in the dim candle light, Ignis could now make out the features. It was, no doubt, the same person who had brought him the note, a man, he now could tell. Slender figure. Ashen blond hair and bright eyes. Dressed in commoner clothes, but of rather fine quality and tailoring, he noted. Like those of a merchant, not peasantry. The guy looked close to his age, possibly a bit older, but no other visible clues of profession or position. The man's face was an enigma as he stood facing him, calmly taking in the adviser's scrutiny as if he had been expecting nothing less - and a sliver of fear graced through Ignis as he found himself unable to deduce anything about this cryptic man.
Not used to being rendered practically helpless, the adviser had to force down a surge of primal panic; steeling himself to play this mysterious man's game, Ignis stepped closer, the emerald leer fixed on the other.
"Who are you?"
"My name," the man started with a light bow, "is Dino. A pleasure to meet you, milord."
"The pleasure is all yours, I'm afraid."
Dino gave a small laugh, but his face remained unreadable. "My, such hostility. I assure you, I mean no harm, milord."
"Am I to find your manner of invitation 'assuring' as well?" Ignis brought his arms to cross over his chest.
"I beg pardon for my impudence, milord, but-" a jestery gleam flashed in the steel eyes, "I had to get your attention somehow." Ignis' eyes narrowed.
"Who are you exactly?"
Dino shrugged, and turned his back to the man (and Ignis wanted to smack himself as a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding was released). "I am a nobody. But a simple man looking into acquiring an occasional item of value."
"So you're a thief?"
"A collector, if you please. Thieves are the vermin that claw for their everyday essentials. Unvisioned, more focused on finding some grubs to scavenge than the matters of true interest. I, on the other hand, know to appreciate the...finer details."
"Why am I here?" It came out sharper than Ignis had intended, but he was growing tired of dancing around the question he so desperately needed answered.
Dino whirled around on his heels, the slate eyes resolute. "You're here, milord, because you haven't lost faith, have you?" Dino was stepping closer, and a gulp slid down Ignis' throat, but he refused to back away. "You refuse to take part in the full mourning but only as an act you put up for the others. You refuse to grieve when there's still a chance. Isn't that so, milord?" The man was right in front of him, almost too close for comfort, and Ignis felt his entire back tensing. Dino seemed to take in every single detail, every twitch of a muscle as he deadpanned, "What if I told you that Prince Noctis is most likely still alive?"
The gasp had been careless, Ignis knew that as soon as the treacherous sound was out. The curious rise of an eyebrow, the pleased smirk that rose onto his peculiar company's lips were enough to tell. In that one simple gesture, Ignis had forfeited all his trump cards.
Dino's smile was shameless as he backed away, allowing the man some room. "So I have your attention, milord."
Clearing his throat, the adviser gathered himself. "Do you have any proof of this?"
"An eyewitness," the other shrugged almost disinterestedly, but Ignis could tell that it was all part of his act. He was being led on, and although he really didn't appreciate it, it was all he had to go with.
"...And what does this eyewitness have to tell me?"
"Ah, you see. That's what we're here for," Dino chimed, the tone making it clear what the man was on about. Ignis' teeth ground together.
"What do you want?"
The thief's eyes lit up, and Ignis had no clue when the man had snatched that piece of paper, but as it was flicked to gently float to the ground by his feet, Ignis felt insulted. Swallowing more than just his pride, the adviser crouched down to pick it up - and Ignis choked on his bewilderment as he took note of the scribbles and sketches on the paper; disbelieving eyes snapped back at the man.
"You can't…!" Dino simply shrugged, but that smile stayed as if plastered onto his face. "That's an heirloom."
"Yes. That stone is known to having been in the possession of the royal family for seven decades." Then, he added amusedly, "As I said, I'm a collector, milord."
"You're asking for a treason!"
"And you're asking for your prince back." The smile was suddenly gone. The man's aura that of unswaying determination, Dino fixed Ignis with a stern look. Then, that decadent smirk was back. "Just how much is he worth to you?"
Ignis had pushed himself off the floor, fingers crushing the piece of paper. Dark passion in his eyes, Ignis stalked closer ominously. His free hand was already feeling for the handle of his knife. "I could just have you arrested." Ignis grabbed a hold of Dino's collar and shoved him against the wall roughly. "I could just have it tortured out of you and be done with you."
Only when the man barely reacted did it register that Dino had allowed himself to be manhandled. "Of course, you could," he deadpanned. "But that would mean you'd have to find me first, milord. And I assure you, you'll never see me after this night again. And even if you managed to find me, what is to say I would be telling the truth?"
"You'd rot alive in the dungeons, you filth!"
"Quite likely. And you would never see your prince again, milord."
And much as Ignis hated to admit it, he had to admit that this Dino was good.
His eyes blazing, Ignis reluctantly released the man as he understood he had been cornered. He could try to overpower him now, but the man could have been armed - likely was, actually. If Dino managed to escape, there was no guarantee that the guards would find him. It was quite clear that this man knew how to make himself invisible, given that he had managed to enter the palace grounds unnoticed. And if his threat was true, even if they did find him, who was to say that the answers he would get out of him were the ones he needed? Ignis' stomach turned cold; was he really reduced to this? A pawn of a common criminal.
Was he going to commit a treason for the flimsy chance of finding out what happened to Noct?
What scared him the most was, Ignis didn't know.
Dino fixed his wrinkled jacket and brushed the stray hairs out of his face. Then, crossing his arms, he cast an expectant look at the nobleman.
Ignis' eyes were on the floor but seeing nothing. His shoulders rose and fell with light, panting breaths. Edges of his lips twitched as if the man was looking for words but none ever came out. Then, the emerald gaze was slowly raised back to meet the steel, and if looks could kill...well, Dino would have dropped like a bag of potatoes.
"And if I do it?" the adviser almost hissed, his jaw tight.
"Bring me the stone, and I'll take you to the eyewitness. After that, you may proceed as you wish."
"How do you know all this?!"
Dino looked serious for a while. "In my world, Master Scientia, the valuables come in all shapes and sizes. Some are mere words. I have no intention of leading you up to me, but just know this: I am a man of my word, and am not here to deceive you, milord. All I'm asking for is a reasonable compensation, that is all. You may choose to trust me, or not. You may leave here and never see me again if you so wish. But I can promise you this: I am the last hope you have left, milord."
Ignis looked him dead in the eye. In his mind, various scenarios were criss-crossing like bees at a hive. He wouldn't have to dance to this man's wily tune. He could have the eyewitness arrested, and hear him out. He could have the entire city turned upside down until he found him. But who was to say that the person was in the city? And who was to say it was even a he he was looking for? That someone could be anyone, really, Dino had been careful not to confirm the gender. And mobilizing the guards at the time of the full mourning wouldn't go unnoticed, and even someone of Ignis Scientia's status and power would have some serious explaining to do at that point. Plus, that effort would likely be wasted, for Dino would just disappear, probably taking his witness with him, and all Ignis would be left with was dissatisfaction and his footprints in the ashes of the homes that he had destroyed. But he still didn't have to do this. He could walk away, as Dino said, and try to forget this ever happened.
And that would mean that he would lose Noct forever. With a heavy, heavy sigh, Ignis' shoulders slumped as the weight of his conviction begun to settle. His tone grave, the adviser asked, "How do I get ahold of you?"
Without a word, Dino reached into the chest pocket of his coat, and pulled something out and stepped closer. Ignis didn't resist when the man grabbed his hand and pressed the item into his palm. A wave of discombobulation coursed through the adviser as he took in the small skull motif decorations of the harmonica.
"When you want to find me, come to the main market place after the midday mark. Sit on the railing of the fountain and play 'Scarborough Fair' with this. Someone will find you. Follow them. They'll lead you to me."
"You wouldn't take the risk of being seen in public yourself," Ignis sneered, not bothering to hide his loath anymore. The way he was guided along, it was almost too smooth. It was disgusting.
Dino wasn't phased, though. "Naturally, I'm afraid taking certain precautions is necessary, milord."
"Of course," Ignis' voice was venomous.
The thief shrugged as a sign that their meeting was over. "I'll be waiting for you to contact me, then. For now, though, I'm afraid I must bid you adieu." With a theatrical bow, Dino backed away towards the window. "Until next time, Your Grace."
Before Ignis had reached him, Dino had already thrown the smoke bomb onto the floor. He was forced to back away as a thick veil of smog spread across his vision in about a second. He heard the clacking of the window, but the haze was making his eyes watery, and it tickled his windpipe. Left trying to blink his eyesight back, the adviser glared at the empty space as the smoke screen evaporated. Slippery bastard. Grunting through grit teeth, Ignis nevertheless checked the alleyways behind the window, of course empty, before quickly making himself representable, and left the room.
The bartender said something to him, and absentmindedly the man tossed the woman a coin, but couldn't give less about what she had to say to him. His head foggy, Ignis flounced out of he pesky pub.
As he got out, it was all the adviser could do to not vomit as what had happened washed over him like a tidal wave. Yes, he had received the confirmation he had so desperately desired. Practically that was it. But instead of quelling his mind, that snippet had only lit aflame the ember that had been smoldering inside, and Ignis found himself tampering too close to the fire not to get himself burned. The knowledge that Noct was alive - would be alive, had to be alive - it demanded him to act on this crumble of information he had been offered.
But he had just agreed to a treason. If he would do this, if he would get caught...being disowned and driven into exile would be His Majesty's mercy. He could be executed. And even so, just imagining the disappointment of the king, Ignis regretted coming here altogether. He shouldn't listen to Dino. With this newly-found fire, he could keep up as he had. Questioning the officers again. Keep running into brick wall after brick wall. Ignis sighed, a wet sound, as he understood that he was at the end of his line. It was a do or don't for him. Carrying on as he had would get him nowhere, or at least not half as fast as he would have hoped, and he couldn't order a city-wide search without being prepared to explain himself. If he wanted to find Noctis, there was only one option for him.
The question was, would he be ready to face the consequences.
