Leandra was out in the garden, reading a novel and basking in the dawn's glow as butterflies flitted about the flowers. Orana had set her usual tray of breakfast and letters next to her with a plate of fresh summer fruit. It was a wonderful early morning before the heat settled in for the day. It would also be lovely if she had company to join her outside, but with Bethany's death she avoided sitting in the gazebo still coping with the loss.
Just like most things in life, death changed a person. For Leandra it only made her more fiercely aware of her social surroundings, both in Hightown and her connections with Lowtown.
Orana was halfway in the door when something caught her attention. She moved into a fearful curtsy at whoever entered from the foyer. As Orana greeted the newcomer, a sudden hush echoed through the empty room.
Leandra calmly sipped her tea, already knowing who it was at this hour. "Good morning, Carver. I trust you were tired of breakfast at The Gilded Rooster this time? It does get a little pricey after awhile."
Silence filled the air until a pair of heels clacked on the marble floors outside. Orana hurried out of the way back to the kitchen not wanting to witness this fight. Carver lurched into the garden. He looked more haggard than usual.
"Morning to you as well mother. I was hoping not to run into you for another hour or two."
"Yes, well I took it upon myself to rise up early before the heat became too stifling for errands. Maker knows I worry sending Orana in my place." She flipped a page with one hand while patting the seat next to her. Carver slowly obliged sitting down, but further away. "Yet, no matter how many times I tell her, she still goes out risking her health. Sometimes I wonder how she manages to deal with this heat. Or maybe it's a simple trick one picks up from Tevinter."
Carver merely grunted in response. Leandra took note that he held no sign of sleep deprivation or surviving a rough night, since he had neither bruises or gaunt eyes. He looked only mentally tired - likely from a romp with his usual mistress. Leandra chuckled at the mere thought of a brothel worker as a proper mistress. She nibbled on a piece of fruit to combat the thought. Carver, likewise, snatched a sausage off her plate.
"My, my," Leandra raised an eyebrow. "Such manners."
Carver groaned before swallowing. "Please, mother I had a very trying night and I'm not in the mood for a lecture."
"Could have fooled me. If you were really tired, you would still be in bed with whatever alleycat you found, or in your room hidden under the covers."
"I don't just sleep with any alleycat mother. I visit the lovely ladies at the Rose. Good enough for father, good enough for me." Carver searched his mother's face for a reaction of some sort only to see her unphased by the sardonic remark.
"I hope you wont father any bastards who will spring up with their mothers, uninvited and with open hands. No, I expect you to have more common sense than your father. I hope you at least treat them with dignity.."
Carver winced in disdain at the idea of being associated with Guillaume. "Mother that was in complete awful taste, but I did deserve it for being a right twat."
"I never say anything I don't mean, and I say it out of love." Leandra washed down her cooled tea, relaxing in the breeze. "I'll hold my fangs back just for you, since you're still mourning."
"I'm not mourning, I'm just tired from trying to persuade some investors to join me in a personal project. I doubt it will end up working anyhow since my potential business partner is likely throwing me under the charging carriage."
The soft rustle of pages slapping against another signaled Orana to take the tray away. "Carver I have no idea why you would waste time on such a fruitless venture with Bartrand of all people. I mean there are other more worthwhile enterprises. There's the Ledgers internship with the Seneschal, the Gilded Hummingbird is also going to expand out in Cumberland and seeking a junior partner to overlook their profits."
Carver groaned. "Mother, those are all worthless jobs! I have no interest in them. I'd prefer trying to work with Bartrand, but it seems I have failed in that."
"Carver if you failed in acquiring a proper job on your own, then perhaps you shouldn't be so choosy."
He looked about the garden, focusing his gaze on the gazebo, now bare of its blooming flowers. "Because it's my choice. It's like you said earlier, I'm still mourning over Bethy's death, but I'm doing it in a way that shows I have some control in the matter." He stared hard at the withered vines."Sort of like how her favorite place in the garden hasn't been torn down. No matter how many times I asked you to tear it down you still leave it there as an ugly scar."
"It's my way of remembering her, so the pain lessens over time." Leandra stood up smoothing out her dress. "But just because I keep it doesn't mean I'll stay in the past. I need to look forward and get on with my life. Now I have business to attend with one of the merchants for his trip."
"How do you do it, Mother?"
"Pardon?"
Carver hunched placing his arms over his knees. "How you do just go about your day when all this shit has happened? What's your secret?"
Leandra gave a tired smile as her fingers gently scraped his head. Carver leaned into the touch, relaxing a bit. "I don't have any secrets, silly boy. I just put one foot in front of the other and think about what must be done." She kissed the top of his head. "Do get some sleep, and perhaps think rather hard about what you want, since I won't always be there for you."
With her words spoken Leandra walked toward the door preparing herself for work. Carver stayed in the garden, staring at the gazebo with veiled hatred and letting the day pass by him. His brain demanded sleep. That would surely help his thinking process.
Standing up on stiff legs which felt like stone, he ambled into the manor, caring not for Orana's concern or the other servants milling about. He focused only on his bed which was just out of his grasp. After what felt like an eternity, he finally made it to his room slamming the door behind him. A pair of perked ears stood up in surprise on his mattress.
Alden stared up at his owner, meowing for some confirmation that everything was ok. Carver - as usual - scooped the cat in his arms and dropped it on his desk. With exhausted effort he managed to pull off his boots and coat before falling into the bed like a boneless mess. Alden took the initiative to crawl back, settling himself atop Carver's broad chest.
Carver rubbed his hand over the cat's soft fur. It was strange to take comfort in such a small creature when it was supposed to be he who provided the safety. The word itself made him feel angry that his home was not safe. Not when he trusted most needed it. He wondered what would have happened if he was home that night. Perhaps he could have saved her, giving her enough time to escape before the guards came, or perhaps she could have used her magic to save herself.
Bile rose in Carver's throat. Bethany's life would have crumbled if he didn't keep her magic a secret. He always knew that if she was gone he would feel incomplete. Bethany, on the other hand, was happiest using her magic to conjure a flame to read at night or to ice her drinks in the summer heat. This made him wonder: would she have been happier in the Circle, where she didn't have to hide her magic?
Leandra wasn't one for petty arguments over asinine things, but for a moment she envied the Dwarves and their shrewd manners when it came to verbal abuse."And I am telling you, this is an atrocious use of protection isn't worth the price I am paying for it!"
"Please, good Serah, I am certain that this is the normal price for passage to Cumberland."
"I have wares in Val Chevin that need my supervision to reach Cumberland!"
Leandra slowly counted in her head. "Yes, I can understand that, however, for something like that you would need to contact my associate and reserve months ahead. We are providing you with quality protection and service."
The merchant only puffed up his lips in indignation. "Madam, I don't care if it includes templars to root out blood mages on the way. I have a schedule to run that requires me to pick up my wares and continue without trouble. It's bad enough that I'm stuck here with a woman who doesn't know what she's doing."
Leandra felt it was time to put aside the smile and let loose the teeth. "Sir! I do not take that sort of tone with customers, even if they claim to know my trade better than me! It would be best for you to look over the price, or perhaps find someone else as good as my business."
"Well, maybe if you weren't such a shrewd hag I would be talking to your husband instead of dealing with this poor attempt at haggling. I am not surprised he left you." His smug smile was sure to earn him some points with the other merchants, yet they were looking away from the fury in Leandra's eyes.
"Now see here, you goat-riddled pen-" Before she could let loose all she wanted to say a gauntleted hand reach up onto her shoulder. As she turned toward the intruding hand, she found herself greeted by some guardsmen.
"Excuse us for disturbing you today, but we need you to come with us, Lady Amell."
"Well can it wait for a moment? I am trying to talk with a customer."
"I'm afraid it will have to wait. This is a serious issue we have to address."
She decided it was better to talk with the guardsmen and lose the potential client, who was nothing but a pain. She walked with the men towards a more secluded corner of the market. They reached an iron fence overlooking the harbor with the Gallows in view. The guards settled into a casual stance, feet apart as Leandra stared rather nervously.
"I hope this isn't about Carver doing anything unseemly last night. If he has, I will pay the fines and let him stew in a cell to learn the error of his ways."
One of the guards smiled. "I can assure you, Lady Amell your son hasn't done anything unseemly. No, we're here on the orders of Guard-Captain Vallen. One of your men was murdered." Leandra gasped at the guardsmen, going over in her head who might have been on duty at the time. "We have his body in the morgue. He's been frozen for further inspection of his wounds, with the aid of the Gallows mages. However we can safely say he was also involved in the assassination of an esteem crime boss. Since the Barracks is on temporary lockdown denying a proper identification of the body, we were hoping that you could identify this object we found on him."
"I will help in any way possible, if it means finding the killer." Leandra gripped her dress.
The guardsmen nodded holding out a linen-wrapped object in his hands. Opening up the cloth revealed a chantry pendant with notches all over it. Leandra felt the most saddest feeling overcome her as she looked.
"Yes, I've seen that pendant before. It belonged to one of my long travel guards, named Douglas. I remember him always going to the Chantry to say his prayers for a safe journey. I used to think it so silly of him, praying for the safety of the merchants like a giant gentle bear."
"Can you describe his appearance?" The other guard pulled out a notebook from his satchel.
"Yes. He is about near six feet in height with pale skin and he keeps an impeccably trimmed beard. His eyes were rather greyish and he had calloused hands...I'm sorry I'm still taking this all in since he was one of my more positive workers. I never knew him to cheat someone out of a game of cards or hurt a fly. He was the role model of what an escort could be."
"I can understand that this is a lot to take in, but he was also involved in some shady dealings with the Carta. It seems like one of the deals went downhill."
"Downhill? I know every man in my service! They go through rigorous training and simple tests to ensure good service."
"That's what Meeran told us, as well. We asked him for identification and he practically told us the same thing you said. Everyone has secrets. We found lyrium dust on his person." Leandra's eyes widened in shock. "We believe he was an addict since there were traces of the powder in his nose. We received top confirmation from the Gallows. Former templars would inhale the substance when they were cut off or rejected from the order."
"But if he was a templar it would have been years ago, since he was in active duty. The man wasn't a day over forty-three and practiced like an army recruit."
"Hence why we think he was reintroduced to the dust. It doesn't take long for the effects to take place, but for a man to constantly fight and suddenly have access - it's like a drunk in a wine cellar. However, you did help us answer a few questions that helped us in our investigation. We'll keep in touch later for any additional information we might need."
"Of course! It doesn't do my business good when my clients can't trust the men I assign. Dirty Carta! Why can't they just act like the Merchants Guild and try to con an orphanage out of its gold?"
One of the guards snickered at the thought, while the other forced himself to not smile. "No worries, milady. We'll be sure to keep in contact. Do have a pleasant day. Also, the information we told you about the lyrium dust, it needs to stay discreet. We wouldn't tell you unless it was necessary, as the Carta are on the move. Please stay safe, milady."
"Indeed I shall! My lips are forever sealed on the matter. I think a early lunch will soothe my nerves." Leandra curtsied at the men before walking off hastily.
The guardsmen took this time to go over their notes. Leandra was honest in her testimony. She quickly disappeared into the arguing Hightown crowd.
She walked a good distance into the crowd, losing herself in thought over what transpired. She kept thinking about what the guardsmen said, about how such a hard worker could relapse from the drug that chained him to the chantry. Then again, Leandra knew the man was never best at hiding all his personal vices. Stepping into her mansion she wa greeted by Orana welcoming her back.
"Orana dear, I am going to let myself have an hour to myself for some 'me time'. Take note that I will be downstairs, eating cheese and drinking Aggregio. Just don't let the chef know. He does like to harp on about me keeping my figure."
Orana nodded with a smile as her mistress took her leave. With the new door installed, the locking mechanism was too sturdy for even an expert thief to get into without setting off the alarm. Walking down the stairs and into the wine room she saw several armed men and one bound to a chair. Meeran was wiping his bloody fists on the limp man in the chair.
"I take it the guard came by to question you?" He walked over to cabinet door filled with wines on racks.
"Yes and I told them that Douglas was the epitome of a saint, attending to his job and never straying from the path. The Aggregio from the Blessed Age seems more your taste."
Meeran pulled out the suggested bottle, looking it over. "Well seems like your choice of drink is like our esteemed guest here. It doesn't matter if it tastes like the Maker's golden piss or comes from the fountain of youth, 'cause at it's core, it's all shows us how buggered we really are."
Leandra looked over to the bloodied man as he took a ragged breath. He was tied to the chair with both hands horribly mangled. The tangy smell of copper mingled with the smell of grapes and pears as Meeran uncorked the bottle with his knife.
"Giving a dead man his last meal? I never thought you were so hospitable, Meeran." the man asked in a cracked voice, calmed from his beating.
Leandra strolled over to him gently tilting his bruised head to look her in the eye. "Hush now, we are only being perfect hosts to our guest. I'll bet you two gentlemen talked the most riveting things in my absence!" A gob of bloodied spit somehow managed to land on her brow. Meeran fists came down on the man's shoulders as Leandra calmly wiped at her brow. "It seems you have, judging by your behavior. I will have to make a surprise visit with that Darktown healer. Maker knows what I might have contracted."
"Makers balls, Leandra! Most noble women would have slapped the man for the impudence and shriek about his dirt being all over them." Meeran took a swig from the bottle.
"Unlike most of the women who reside here," she took the bottle from Meeran, taking a dainty sip. "I've had worse land on my face. Thanks to Guilliame. When he wasn't talking with his mouth full he loved to spit the culmination of our love-making on my face. From what I hear of the Rose, most men seem to love doing that. It just becomes tiresome when I have to wash my hair."
The guards tried to hold in their laughter as Meeran let out a bark. Their guest coughed as blood began to fill his lungs. "I wasn't surprised by that, Leandra. Now I know who inherited your mouth."
Silence filled the room. Leandra slowly turned her head toward him. "Who inherited my mouth?"
"Ohhh, she had a rather gifted tongue alright. I always said a mouth is a mouth, no matter who it belongs to, but by Andraste's pert nipples, the girl could suck. I was never so turned on with her eyes looking up at me while Douglas was thrusting behind like an animal in heat. You think we saved a lot of money if we rented her-"
Before he could get out another word Leandra bashed the bottle across his face. Meeran ran to restrain the woman, who - with the fury of a jungle cat - repeatedly jabbed and punched her victim. The other men looked on with surprise as the normally mild mannered woman began attacking like a badger.
"Take note, you two." Meeran gained their attention. "As your captain, I am to keep you in order. However, Leandra here is also your boss, and she decides which jobs to give and how to reward us." They heard a sickening crack, and then Leandra threw the bottle on the ground, gasping for air. "As you just witnessed, Owen here just learned the hard way why you always follow your fucking orders."
The bottle was half emptied as a small trickle of wine flowed out. Leandra picked it back up, draining the contents in one gulp before looking back at the men with a graceful smile. "Are we crystal, on how the rules are set, boy?"
"Clear, milady." they both saluted letting the lesson sink in.
"Good, perhaps you can wash up all this blood since you're near the drain. I'm going to go freshen up for dinner since I've gotten wine all over my skirts."
"If anyone asks, you accidentally killed a rat out of terror for touching the cheese." Meeran grunted handing the two men lyrium potions, as they began casting fire and ice to clean up.
"Hmm, that does sound like a rather plausible explanation. Good day, gentlemen." With quick curtsy she hurried up the stairs putting on a frantic face. "Orana dear, please draw me a bath. It seems I ran into some bad luck."
The men ignored her ranting as they continued their work on the floor. They both worked together making sure the blood flowed into the grate, then wiped the floor clean of any residue. Meeran occasionally glanced over at them while wrapping up the corpse. It wasn't until he was untying poor Owen that one of the men spoke up.
"Sir, I need to ask; was this woman he was talking about? Was it the poor Amell lass that died awhile back?"
"Nah, if it were we'd be fighting a bloody war by now." Meeran began tying up knots tightly. "No, girly was someone I was suppose to keep safe and help train away from the templars. It's my fault, if anything. I let this idiot and his friend take advantage of her position."
"That woman wouldn't happen to be Hawke, would it? The one who helped us out awhile back on that trip to Tantervale?"
Meeran bent his knees hefting the corpse over his shoulders as the others finished cleaning up. "Now, now boys we're on the clock, so eyes on the prize. If you want any news concerning that, best you go to the Hanged Man. Think a gabby Dwarf can give you all the tall tales you want."
A/n: Yeaah I am very sorry for how long this is taking me, but depression, therapy and pills oh my...really draining my ability to focus on one thing at a time. Other than that I hope if anyone is still interested in this story they will review, not for any fanpoints to make me popular, but for how am I progressing along with the story and if its going well.