Zevran had been a busy little bee since he’d last met with Adaria, it was still a bit surreal that he was now working with Frankie’s little girl, who was definitely no longer little or a girl. She was impressive, strong, definitely her father’s daughter.
He enjoyed Orlais, he found their whole grand game rather adorable really, but then he’d been raised by the Antivan Crows. It might not be the grand game in Antiva, but the principle was the same.
He had an upcoming meeting with a potential contact, someone who could have valuable information. His experience as a Crow would certainly prove useful in navigating the intrigue. Since he had to be in Orlais any way, he decided it was time for him and Adaria to have another face to face, so Zevran made his way to Adaria’s aunt’s home.
Upon arriving, he took a moment to appreciate the grandeur of the place before knocking at the door. He was looking forward to seeing Adaria again and discussing their next move in this delicate dance of politics and espionage. Mica herself answered, which was a bit surprising, she beamed at Zevran.
Zevran! Always a pleasure! Are you here to see Addy?[/q] Mica didn’t know everything that was going on, all the plans and machinations, only that she was told to expect Zevran’s visit. She informed a servant to go and let Addy know that Zevran had arrived.
And you of course Mica. You are looking lovely today! How’s your son doing? Zevran knew she was in a loveless marriage, but had a son from someone prior to her marriage, who he didn’t know, but he knew Mica cherished her son.
[i]Oh, he’s doing well, he’s still in Antiva with his father. I haven’t collected him yet. They continued to banter while Zevran waited for Addy to appear.
With her recovery complete, Adaria had begun her studies at the university. It had been some time since she had met the assassin on the road, in some regards it had been too long, the man reminding her a little of her old man in how he quipped and entertained her with his wit. Her father had always told her that sound advice and council did not always come from experience, or from those who had no understanding of the world or the people, from their glittering palaces. They knew nothing of the people they were supposed to lead. As a man of the world, Zevran was well travelled, held experiences and knowledge no stuffy noble could offer. Along with a sharp and accurate knife.
Informing her aunt of the visit was done over dinner, permission hadn’t been sought, but she doubted it would be an issue. Keeping her aunt out of her calculations was crucial to her safety and Adaria would not have her or her cousin brought into her scheme. If Enzo grew a backbone and gave her a clear reason why her network wasn’t required, or her council unneeded, she would accept her role, but she would refuse the proposal. She would not be chained to the role of broodmare and sitting spectator while Antiva needed their guidance. Especially now.
With word filtering through the household, the news of his arrival reached her quickly as the Princess swept the nearby minds. Making her way quickly, she’d find him already being entertained by Mica, her pace slowing as she entered into the vestibule. Gathering her hands in front of her, Adaria curtseyed in greeting. Zevran, I’m glad you could come. Dorris, can you bring tea into the conservatory. If you’ll excuse us, Aunt, our friend and I have some catching up to do. Half-turning, she’d gesture in the direction, waiting for the elf to join her and offer his arm to walk.
Not at all, Adaria, Zevran replied, offering his arm to her. The journey was rather pleasant. And it's always a pleasure to see you. Let's catch up. Throwing in his hat to support Adaria had been an easy decision, partly because of his previous friendship with Adaria’s father, and partly because despite being young, he felt like Adaria truly had her father’s spirit. She was fierce, determined. He believed backing her was what was best for everyone, not just himself, but the Vultures as well, and anyone still living under the thumb of the Crows who were determined not to break tradition when it came to their so called recruiting process. He firmly believed people should get to choose their fate, if they wanted to be an Assassin, not something forced on them as little children.
Recruiting has gone well so far. Though we’re still not quite where I’d like to be at for our purposes. How are things going with your family? Zevran’s childhood may not have been easy, but he definitely never envied Frankie, and definitely did not envy Adaria. Being part of a royal family had expectations and requirements that a free spirit like Zevran would have felt smothered trying to navigate. Nope, life as a rogue assassin that came and went where he pleased was much more the ideal life for him.
Adaria hummed with approval as the two walked down the corridor towards the conservatory. Her other hand came over to pat his lightly. I will need to venture on a journey soon, I’ve been trapped behind these walls until recently. Now I’m myself again I have been attending classes, but I find Orlais rather dull, honestly. It was clear in her voice that she missed the familiarity of home, of Antiva, the Orlesian Game was so dour compared to the excitement of home.
Only home was in chaos and Enzo, barely keeping it together. Things were not going as well as expected for the First Born.
Entering the conservatory she’d guide them round to a nice secluded corner overlooking the gardens outside. Hearing that recruitment was slowly upturning drew a small smile from her, nodding, Understandable with how things have been recently, I imagine some Talon’s are also doing their own drives to replenish their numbers lost to the dead elf. She didn’t mince her words, her distaste for the ‘God-King,’ palatable when she suddenly groaned, lounging back into the chaise lounge across from him.
My brother has arranged a ball for my Nameday next month, as you know. I’m still floating ideas on how I’ll circumvent his intentions, so I welcome any suggestions, flashing him an all too familiar Campana smirk. It tempered as she remembered her other sibling. I did visit my sister which… was interesting, to say the least.
Zevran listened intently as Adaria spoke, his keen eyes watching her expressions and noting the subtle hints of homesickness and frustration in her voice. As they reached the conservatory and settled into a secluded corner, he leaned back comfortably, ready to respond.
My dear Adaria, it seems the gilded cages of Orlais can dull even the brightest of spirits,[/qw] he began with a touch of empathy. [q]Orlais may have its charms, but it can never quite compare to the vibrant chaos of Antiva, can it?
Hearing her distaste for the 'God-King,' Zevran chuckled softly. Yes, the recruitment has indeed been challenging, but rest assured, the Vultures will rise stronger than ever. The dead elf, as you aptly put it, has stirred things up, but we'll adapt and overcome. We always do. After all, they’d managed to dismantle House Arainai to the point that it was entirely decimated and now obsolete, the empty Eighth Talon spot a testament to what the Vultures were capable of.
When she mentioned the upcoming ball for her Nameday, Zevran's eyes sparkled with mischief. Ah, a ball arranged by your brother, how... predictable. Circumventing his intentions sounds like a delightful challenge. Perhaps we could stage a little diversion? Something subtle yet effective to redirect his plans. He did so love causing mischief, almost as much as he loved his job as an assassin.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially. As for your sister, I am all ears. 'Interesting' can mean so many things when it comes to family. What happened during your visit?
Zevran's curiosity was genuine, his tone inviting Adaria to share more. He knew that navigating the complexities of their world required a delicate balance of strategy and empathy, and he was ready to support her every step of the way.
Her smile warmed as she leaned back comfortably. Nothing is comparable to home. Orlais is a poor amature when it comes to true scandal and fun. They think themselves so risque when truly they don’t have the stomach for the mess left behind. Too concerned with soiling their clothes than dirtying their hands properly.
Elgar’nan had upended everything from the top down. No-one had escaped his long reach yet fate had intervened, stamping out his conquest of the rest of the continent. We are indebted to the one who snuffed him out, it’s still unclear who, but then anonymity might be something they prefer. They aren’t a concern for now, increasing our numbers is and I can trust you to further it. I may even have a name for a potential for you.
Any assistance in making this a circus is appreciated. I can’t rely on my Father’s past escapades because he’ll expect that. A diversion could work? Perhaps a group of terrible minstrels. The idea of some mariachi band sweeping into the ballroom had her snort a giggle. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was a start and she was sure her companion had ample experience in arranging the perfect distraction.
Her grin faded a little, leaning in after a moment, gaze staring off into the distance to reflect on his words. It’s… difficult. Lying to her by omission, but I can never tell her the truth. To do so.. would do neither of us any good and there are… bigger things at stake. Still, it was good to see her. While Zevran might not know the specific lie, it was evident in the young woman's expression that her remaining family were held close to her heart, even her flaking brother, keeping them in the dark was difficult, but necessary if they were all to live.
Zevran's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and understanding as he leaned back, mirroring her relaxed posture.
Ah, Orlais. A land of masks and intrigue, where even the scandals wear frills and lace. They fancy themselves as masters of the game, yet shy away from the real dirt, afraid to tarnish their delicate gloves. Quite amusing, really.
He let out a soft chuckle, nodding as she spoke of Elgar’nan and the mysterious benefactor who had put an end to his reign of terror.
Indeed, we owe much to our anonymous savior. Perhaps it's best their identity remains shrouded in mystery, for now at least. Focus on rebuilding, on growing stronger—that is the priority. And you can certainly count on me to aid in that endeavor. A name, you say? I eagerly await this new potential recruit.
Zevran's grin widened at the mention of a circus-like diversion. Ah, a troupe of terrible minstrels? I love it! There is nothing quite like a bit of chaos to distract the eye and muddle the mind. Leave it to me, I shall arrange something suitably disastrous and thoroughly entertaining.
As her expression grew more serious, Zevran leaned in, his tone softening. Lies, even those of omission, are burdensome things. But sometimes, they are the lesser evil, necessary to protect those we care about. It is clear your family means the world to you, and keeping them safe often requires such sacrifices. The truth can be a dangerous weapon, and not always the kindest one. Remember, your heart is in the right place, even if your actions must sometimes stray into the shadows.
He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. We do what we must, for the greater good and for those we love. And if ever the burden grows too heavy, remember you do not carry it alone.
Her grin widened, eyes relieved to have someone else than Mica to complain to. And the perfume she pretended to gag, hand coming to cover her mouth. Dear gods, there is not enough to cover some of the stench. It’s like some have never been near a bath house in their life.
The amusement was short-lived as their talk continued, shrugging her brows Adaria hummed in agreement. Yes, likely for the best. If they had an identity, one might expect them to gain a following, but they seem to be content remaining unknown. As you say, rebuilding, recruiting and regaining our strength is the priority.
Pausing to collect her thoughts, Adaria fixed her gaze elsewhere, straightening despite her reclined form. His name is Rafael Acosta. And Yes, he is… someone to me. There was a coldness in her gaze, icy and sharp, leaving deeper questions off the table. I mentioned to him an introduction. Not involvement, but to have an awareness of one another. If Raphy involved himself accidentally, how was she to protect him?
Pleased that she had a fellow accomplice, the Princess snickered wickedly. Then, dear Ringmaster, I cannot wait to see what acts of pure sabotage you and the circus bring to town.
It was sudden, how quickly the mood again shifted. There was a hesitancy before Addy leaned in towards his council. A familiarity in the action. Her father used to speak to her in such a way. A mixture of emotions passed through her face while digesting his words. Jaw quivering slightly until it quickly smoothed again to lift her chin and nod. We do and I promise, I won’t, but I may need you to occasionally remind me. The secret would remain with her and while she had partially confessed to Rafael, Adaria was confident that current circumstances took precedence than a passing comment said out of exhaustion and fatigue.
Zevran's laughter rang out, rich and full of mischief. Ah, the perfume, he echoed, playfully waving a hand in front of his nose. Truly, some people believe that dousing themselves in it will mask all sins. If only they knew.
He observed her closely as she spoke of Rafael Acosta, noting the shift in her demeanour. The coldness in her gaze told him enough—this was a topic fraught with complexity and danger. Rafael Acosta, he repeated thoughtfully. That name, Acosta, isn’t there a very minor noble family with that name in Antiva?. Zevran made it his business to know everyone within reason in Antiva, it was always useful to know who could be potential allies and who might be enemies.
When Adaria mentioned acts of sabotage, Zevran's eyes twinkled with delight. Ah, sabotage. Music to my ears, my dear Princess. The circus will bring quite a show to town, I assure you. Chaos, confusion, and a touch of artistry—just the way we like it.
As she leaned in, seeking his counsel, Zevran felt a pang of something almost paternal. He had grown fond of her, this fierce and clever woman. He listened, his own expression softening. You have my word, Adaria. I will remind you, whenever needed. Secrets are best kept in the heart, but it is good to have someone to share the burden with. He had a daughter, somewhere out there, torn apart because of the Crows. He always wondered what sort of father he would have been if he could have raised her and in some small way his relationship with Adaria showed a little bit of light on that question.
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a rare moment of sincerity. We will navigate these treacherous waters together, you and I. And as for Rafael, well... we shall see how he fares in our world. Until then, let us focus on what lies ahead. The future is ours to shape, one careful step at a time. He felt he owed it to Frankie to look out for Adaria, but truth be told he would have regardless. She was fierce and plenty powerful for a teenager, a good ally to have.
There was no amount of scent that could mask the one of death. It permeated everything, but only those versed in it could distinguish fellow killers. The innocent only felt put off by their presence if their masks slipped. Orlais stank of sex and not even the good kind.
Adaria studied his reaction closely, pleased that her faith in his knowledge had been well placed. Yes, they’ve always been an ally of the crown but his Father Leandro is a difficult bastard. She’d vaguely remembered meeting the man in passing, his harsh and iron grip over his house sullying her opinion of him. Rafael is more… amenable to our cause. While they pose little threat he would weaken my position if our enemies thought him a useful pawn. Plus he had siblings and a mother he cared about, she wished to minimise any collateral fallout possible and informing Zevran of her partiality towards him only further shielded him.
Discussing the potential circus of her nameday was preferable to wallowing in her pity party. His hand against her shoulder earned him a faint genuine smile, drawing comfort from the familiar action her Father would have performed. Francesco really did understand the truth of people's characters, befriending the most unlikely and varied sorts of friends into his circle. The young woman held her breath a moment and after blinking slowly gestured with her hand to create a bubble of silence, sealing them off from prying ears.
Zevran nodded as Adaria spoke, immersed in the conversation, the wheels turning in his brain as his thoughts moved to Rafael’s father. From what he’d heard, in his contacts, everything that Adaria was saying was more or less accurate, though he sighed slightly at the comment about being an ally of the crown, but then he also tipped his head at the part about the comment of how Rafael would weaken her position if her enemies know about him. That definitely got his attention even more, he was torn between asking for more details about her relationship with Rafael, and informing her of what he knew of Rafael’s father.
Leandro definitely plays the ally quite well, but whether or not he’s truly an ally, I wouldn’t be entirely too certain of that. From some rumours I’ve heard, he’s one to play both sides and is rumoured to have had some dealings with the Second Talon, though what those dealings are, I’ve never really looked into before, but then I’ve never had reason to before. Many play both sides in Antiva, it’s hardly news. Then he grinned a bit, as he latched on to her other comment. Not that he was about to tease her or anything, no she was an adult, but as someone who was a champion for love and relationships, despite his bad luck at it, he was glad that there was someone in Addy’s life that she felt was important enough to her that they could also be a threat.
I can put someone on Rafael if you’d like, a sort of, protector in the shadows. We don’t want people to find out quicker that he’s important of course, but we don’t want to be caught with our trousers down either. He said as he started to think who he’d put on the task, obviously someone most trusted, of which a couple came immediately to mind. Then he realised that Adaria’s demeanour and tone had changed, it took him a minute to even realise what she was saying, once it sunk in, things started to make a lot more sense. He had a sort of ‘ah-ha’ look on his face, as the pieces came together finally. Quite the burden for the young girl, her dear father dead and not only was her mother to blame, but Adaria had found herself in the position to enact revenge for the deed and taken it.
That does answer some things. From some of the things I heard, she had only herself to blame, always someone else’s pawn, but that doesn’t excuse things of course. He didn’t look at her with pity, he’d been even younger when he’d first killed, he himself a pawn in someone else’s game. He knew what it was to kill, the burden that came with it, no he looked at her with a mixture of pride and love, the love an uncle might have for their niece. She’d clearly handled herself well, she knew how to play the game, and he could really see that he was indeed backing the right horse.
Adaria’s head tilted some, gaze shifting to study the cup of tea in her hands. She had her suspicions of Leandro, but she was grateful for the assassin’s frank appraisal of the man and how his allegiance changed with the wind. Sensing his curiosity, her brow arched. Well then. We should keep an eye on those with fickle loyalty. As you say, it’s hardly news, but then our home hasn’t suffered this level of instability in some time. If the Second Talon is wise, he’ll keep to his lane and not inconvenience me.
She had few allies, even fewer when she considered her close circle. It would be easy for their enemies to outmanoeuvre her if it was infiltrated or one of her remaining loved ones were used as leverage.
A shadow would be wise. Not that he is incapable of defending himself, but we both know what can happen without some precautions. Her family had been forced into hiding for a period before their position had firmed, but the disappearance of her Father had splintered them all into self-preservation.
There was the slightest hint of a grin that flashed as his face lit up, the pieces falling into place. Does it? she’d chuckle, settling back into her chair. While she had been accustomed to dealing with her problems, it was a complete shift from verbal undressing and a tweak of the mindset to murder. I’m not quite over it. I can’t… quite bring myself to talk about her without playing over and over again how she betrayed my father. How she used his kindness and devotion against him.
Her expression hardened, the youthfulness of her face replaced with a cold exterior. She was weak. I don’t plan to be weak, but I would be lying if my mind and heart weren’t torn over lying to my sister. Fran would never forgive her and Adaria couldn’t afford to lose the one family member that had her back.
Zevran watched as Adaria’s expression shifted, the weight of her burden evident in her demeanor. He took a sip of his own tea, letting the moment settle before speaking, knowing that what he said next carried importance. His own past, filled with bloodshed and betrayal, allowed him to understand the complex emotions swirling within her.
Fickle loyalty is a dangerous game, but one we know all too well. Leandro will play his part until it no longer suits him, but rest assured, we’ll be ready when that moment comes. As for Rafael, consider it done. A shadow will follow him, unseen and unnoticed, but always there should the need arise.
He leaned forward, setting his cup down, his voice lowering into something more personal. Your mother’s betrayal… it’s a wound that doesn’t heal easily, if ever. But you did what you had to, Adaria. Your father was a great man, and what happened to him was unforgivable. But the strength to do what you did, that is not something many possess. It is a strength born of love, of duty, and of survival.
Zevran’s eyes softened as he continued, As for your sister, that is a different kind of pain. The lies we tell to protect those we love are the hardest to carry. But you must remember, you are not alone in this. I will stand by you, in the light and in the shadows, just as your father would have wanted. And when the time is right, perhaps the truth will find its way to her, in a manner that does not shatter the bond you share.
He paused, considering his next words carefully. Strength comes not just from the ability to wield a blade or outmaneuver an enemy, but also from knowing when to trust, when to lean on others. I see your father in you, Adaria, but I also see the woman you are becoming—stronger, wiser, and more resilient than those who would seek to undermine you.
A small, genuine smile played on Zevran’s lips as he added, And as for being weak? I doubt that’s something you’ll ever have to worry about. Not with that fire in your eyes.
He settled back into his chair, the seriousness of their conversation giving way to a more relaxed posture, though the undercurrent of their shared understanding remained. The future was uncertain, the road ahead fraught with danger, but in that moment, Zevran knew that together, they would face whatever came their way.
Her gaze remained unfixed, staring blankly but acutely aware of where he was and what he was doing. He allowed space. Air to circulate, feeding blood which quickened the mind to formulate a true thought than rush an answer that offered nothing but platitudes. He lowered his cup and spoke to her, Adaria quietly hung on every word while her gaze occasionally drifted off, filing thoughts away to expand on later.
Her smile was small, softening her hardened expression and easing the line across her brow. You remind me of him. Less erratic, but you’re a man who loves his home as deeply, who serves it unwaveringly for the greater good of all, not just the few or for yourself.
Perhaps I am too rigid like my Father, but I doubt anyone clearly understands the mystery of the heart and its desires. I’m glad I lack her… confusion. Her gaze sharpened, fixing him briefly. And that is all we’ll speak on hearts and minds for today. She’d sigh, reclining back with a nod. One day Fran would know the truth and she just hoped her sibling understood Adaria’s judgement.
You know it’s refreshing, hearing someone actually recognise those things about me and not immediately just see him. He was his own kind of legend and the natural pressure that came with being his heirs were levied differently on each of them. I understood my role. Had Elgar’nan died before meeting my father it would have remained unchanged, but fate has decided differently. That I do what my Grandmother was very adept at, ruling in the shadows, when my Father was wallowing through the Marches.
Enzo was floundering, he lacked clarity and the steady firm hand that ruling required. Yet, challenging the succession was not something to be so hastily voiced given his untested reign so far. Antiva wasn’t in chaos, but it had been left reeling, confused and it’s reputation in tatters. The fire you see is anger, because there was a well, tasting it fully after seeking out Eularia. Anger over many insults, but mostly to what has been made of our Home, our reputations as Antivan’s. Passing judgement on my Mother only seems to have solidified it.
Lifting her cup, Adaria took a long sip of tea. She allowed herself to relax, though it was easy in Zevran’s company. She could rely on him completely, her secrets would never be whispered or used against her unless she herself turned her back on everything engrained in her being. Reflecting on their conversation, she tracked back to her Nameday.
Given parties are a dull affair without a murder or two, I have a query. Say we fake an assassination. Obviously I survive, perhaps even show off, but I’m curious what ripples that may cause.
Zevran watched Adaria closely as she absorbed his words, noting the shifts in her expression, the way she processed each thought with the same careful precision her father once did. When she smiled, even slightly, he felt a warmth in his chest—an acknowledgment that, despite the burdens she carried, she was not alone in this.
When she spoke of her father, Zevran inclined his head slightly, accepting the compliment with a rare humility. Your father was a man of great passion and purpose, and while I may share some of his qualities, you, Adaria, carry his spirit forward in your own way. The world sees Francesco in you because they cannot help but draw comparisons, but you are forging your own path—one that even he would admire.
He listened intently as she spoke of her role, the fire of her anger, and the weight of her responsibilities. It was clear to him that she understood the stakes, that she was prepared to do whatever was necessary to restore Antiva to its former glory. But when she mentioned the idea of faking an assassination, his eyebrows shot up, and a mischievous grin spread across his face.
Ah, now there’s an idea with some bite to it, Zevran replied, leaning forward with renewed interest. A fake assassination? Brilliant. The ripples it could cause… well, they would be significant, to say the least. The mere suggestion of an attempt on your life would set tongues wagging, create chaos among your enemies, and perhaps even draw out those who might be plotting against you in secret.
He tapped his chin thoughtfully, already running through the logistics in his mind. It would need to be convincing, of course. A few trusted allies in on the plan, some well-placed rumors to stir the pot beforehand. And when the moment comes, you must make it clear that you are not only alive but in control—stronger and more formidable than ever. It could serve as a powerful reminder to those who would underestimate you that you are not to be trifled with.
Zevran’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect. But we must be careful. Such a ruse could have unintended consequences, especially if it spooks the wrong people. We don’t want to create a power vacuum or incite open rebellion. The key is to control the narrative—make sure the story that spreads is the one you want, not one twisted by your enemies.
He leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. Of course, the question is, who would you want to be the supposed assassin? It would need to be someone credible, someone who could plausibly have the means and motive. Or… perhaps we leave that part ambiguous, create a mystery that keeps everyone guessing. Sometimes, the fear of the unknown is the most powerful weapon of all.
Zevran’s smile returned, more playful this time. I must say, Adaria, you do have a knack for turning a simple celebration into something far more… entertaining. I think your Nameday is going to be quite the event. And I would be honored to help orchestrate the grand performance.
He paused, his tone softening just a bit. But tell me, what do you hope to gain from this? Is it simply to send a message, or is there something more at play? Knowing your true goal will help us craft the perfect plan.
