"You'd better eat it, it's all you're going to get!!"
The captured woman cries in the corner, her hands covering her face. She seems inconsolable... repentant for her crimes, even. Truth is, she's scared, she's nervous, and she's dreading her trial.
And it probably didn't help that she'd been incarcerated with Deorla, who was mercilessly teasing and baiting her, talking with that hiss of hers, frightening her even more, like she was playing some kind of game. Unsurprisingly, she shows no hint of remorse, frustration, or even interest. Her face is smiling as she stares through the bars to her captors.
One such lady, Miss Velindra, seems far more vested in the subject than she should be. She's got a twinkle in her eye and a cheeky smile for the captive, and a strange energy passes between them.
"I'll have to keep an eye on that, lest she does something stupid" Furley thinks. After all, he'd started them all down a path they couldn't return from, and the last thing he needed was some woman with the horn messing it all up.
Needless to say, he's determined to speak to the prisoner. Behind him, the unpredictable and dangerous Ida watches on, with a blank expression that couldn't be more secretive if it was a white canvas. Her standing so close in proximity to Furley makes him nervous, because he knows how dangerous she can be. But for now, she holds to their bargain, and he can worry about the rest later.
"Oh, Ida, I'm glad to see you here. How's you boss? Am I still to meet him?" Deorla says, casually. Furley's eyes furrow at the mention of Vanden, but he says nothing. He'll worry about that later.
For now, he needs to know what Deorla knows. She teases him, she baits him, but he doesn't respond. "If you'd have only been more forthwith in the Pony, then this situation wouldn't have been necessary, would it? Tell me what you know". Of course she doesn't; she teases him, laughs at him, tries to get at him... but this time, he keeps composed, though it takes every sinew in his body to do so.
"Fine. Three Questions" she says, finally giving in. Inside, Furley's celebrating; this is the closest thing to a win he'll ever get out of her, but he's not stupid enough to show it. After all, the answers he'll get from her are more important than any one-upmanship he'll feel against a woman behind bars.
"Question 1. I don't believe you'd have killed them for no reason, so I need to know. Are these ranger folk a threat to Bree?". Vague, yet oddly specific. Furley, like any normal Bree-Lander, still has his suspicions about the black magic wizards of the north, and doesn't trust them to not have designs on his home-land.
"Well, the ranger I killed certainly isn't a threat" she smiles. No response from Furley, though, and that seems to vex her evermore. "But no, they're not a threat to this land. Next question". She seems to want to rush him, as she paces back and forth in her cell. Maybe she believes she can force him into an error?
"Does your-", no... that's worded like a question, and she'll count it against him if he phrases it like that. Her eyebrows lift in amusement, as he carefully formulates his sentence. "I imagine Duvainell is fine with your actions, I suppose, and is to do with the threat. Where can I find her?".
"She is. After all, it's why I sent you East, on that rumour. And she's awaiting in Rivendell".
Furley's internally fist-pumping right now, cartwheeling round. She's just given him more information that he didn't ask for. Though, then again, he already knew the bit about her elven puppet master. Though, admittedly, he'd all-but forgotten about that incident. Maybe she's trying to nudge him back on the right trail? Who knows. Suddenly, a thought hits him... maybe she needs him? Maybe she's pointing him on the right path as she needs him to discover something, and that'll aid her out this mess she's in.
No, that coudn't be it... could it? She's far too independent and proud for that kind of talk. Although maybe she needs to find out, so she can wield him? Like her own puppet... after all, she's always toyed with him before. Musing to himself, he ponders all her potential motivations, but isn't interested in discussing them. Just a note to himself to be aware.
"Final question". Looking round at Idathiel, he curses inwardly. He can't ask it any other way, and the whole reason he's thrown her in this prison is so he can ask this to head, without her shirking the question. But he's loathe to inform the brigand of his intentions, for she's sure to wield anything she can against him. Maybe because it's personal, or more probably because knowing things about him is good for business.
"You remember what we set out to do, originally. If I were to create this 'Company', and it were to work, is that something that interests you". Not a question, just delivered as if thinking aloud, and she knows it. "So, final question. Would you support and back it if it were to arise?".
There's no response for several moments, but eventually, she stops pacing and smiles. "Yes, I would. It's about time you got back to that" she grins, her eyes like daggers, piercing his. Furley smiles softly, bows his head, then walks away, but before he does, he stops by Idathiel, close enough so only she can hear.
"I've got what I needed to know. The plan goes ahead" he finishes, before walking from the room.
