overharrowed

( Although it comes sealed and addressed to Ench. J., it is apparent the instant that he breaks the seal that the letter was not, in fact, originally intended for his eyes. It is a long and meandering missive from Marius Bellerose, written affectionately from scandalous uncle to only slightly less scandalous niece, carrying on for several pages.

On the last page, Gwenaëlle has taken the time to circle his postscript inquiry as to what and who the enchanter of his brief acquaintance has been doing in Kirkwall. She underlines who. )

[A day or so later, a much shorter note returns:]

Lady Vauquelin,

Given the tenor of the rest of the letter and my knowledge of M. Bellerose, I am inclined to believe the postscript a (perhaps poorly considered) joke. That said, he clearly knows where I am. Feel free to direct him to ask me himself, if you wish.

On the other hand, I suppose I still do owe you a visit and perhaps a bit of consideration. If it would make your life easier, I could always let slip a few things for you to pass along when next we speak.

Your obedient,

Ench. J

Enchanter Julius. This is Casimir Lyov,

[ you know, in case a bunch of other nevarran tranquil are blowing up his ~~phone~~ crystal ]

It's been suggested I speak with you regarding a research project.

Casimir, hello. What sort of research project do you have in mind?

There's work underway to alter the outpost's store of sending crystals. To extend our means of communication. While I'm capable of the direct modifications, we'll need assistance in designing and testing the patterns. Myrobalan spoke highly of your work with glyphs.

What an intriguing idea. What sort of alterations have been mentioned, or has anyone gotten that specific yet?

Written and visual messages have been proposed, [ obviously not by myr ] As has introducing a means of recording.

[ aka atticus what a bro ]

Further suggestion is welcome — we've discussed tracking their signatures — but these others seemed the most immediately actionable. There's a minor security matter which I will be addressing with an independent assistant; smaller items might be seen to in this manner.

I will certainly help; it sounds like a unique design challenge. Would I be collaborating directly with other mages, and if so, when and where should arrive?

Thank you. I'll organize a meeting. There are four other mages involved: Myrobalan, Warden Serra, Warden Anders, and Serah Pel. Madame de Cedoux and Messere Thranduil may also contribute to discussion.

I know a most of them, at least a little. I look forward to working with the others. Let me know where and when once the meeting is organized.

Oh, and if you think of anything it would be helpful to have on hand, supplies of any sort, let me know that too.

I have a potentially strange offer. Request. Both of those things.

I'm intrigued.

[And resisting the urge to ask 'You, or your uncle?' under the circumstances.]

Your new superior, Thranduil. Until his appointment he was living in my home- I need to fill that space again.

( Not the same space, precisely- )

I live quite far from the Gallows and share my home with a child; I need someone in residence who can be useful in a crisis. You'd have the use of my carriage to commute to the Gallows and it wouldn't require much of you except living in the house.

Unless something happens. Obviously.

To make sure I understand: Hightown accommodations in exchange for serving as a living security system?

[He sounds more thoughtful than offended.]

Is there anything else you'd expect, particularly? Would I be allowed to have visitors?

You're understanding correctly. I don't expect anything other than you don't make a spectacle of yourself,

( drolly; he doesn't exactly seem the type, )

and that I have veto power over who comes into my house. If a Warden's name isn't Alistair, for instance, they don't set foot on the premises.

That seems fair.

[He's only seen Alistair from a distance (and not recently), and the only Warden he knows anything like personally is Anders, which fair enough.]

Frankly, as convenient as working in the Gallows can be, I'd be glad enough not to sleep here if I don't have to. Your proposal sounds workable.

Excellent. I can make arrangements for your belongings if you need, otherwise you can get the address from Inquisition records and my steward will expect you and have your rooms ready.

Enchanter. You've been looking for Vauquelin?

[ it's not really a question when the answer's the whole reason you tracked someone's name down ]

...that makes it sound rather as if I've sent out search parties. Considering the fire, I had some ideas for the security of her home I thought might interest her. Why?

I personally recommend water. You've been to the estate?

If I could automatically trigger water without destroying the estate's furniture, I would, but that hasn't been the most practical avenue of research.

Lady Vauquelin kindly offered me accommodation there in exchange for my assistance with her security. Assuming she wishes to continue the arrangement when the weather makes moving back to Hightown practical, I will decamp with her.

[He avoids asking and why do you care aloud, but the tone suggests it all the same; not hostile, but mildly baffled.]

[ that tiny bitch ]

[ darkly: ]

The furniture has seen worse abuse.

I fear we've not been formally acquainted, Enchanter. Perhaps it would behoove us to remedy this; you will find me a frequent visitor come thaw.

I'd be delighted to make your formal acquaintance. Though if it matters, I can assure you that my presence in the lady's home is expressly a matter of convenience, and I do not expect her to include me in her social circle.

[He's not going to ask about the abuse to the furniture.]

I do not recommend you describe me as a piece of that circle. A convenience to you or to her?

[ of course it's mutual, or she wouldn't have persuaded him. but she'd prefer to know the way he frames it. she won't be the last to ask. ]

She approached me without prompting, if that's your question. I had a passing acquaintance with an uncle of hers, which she knew of.

[If pressed, of course he means Marius Bellerose.]

I don't think I need to explain why a mage would prefer not to sleep in the Gallows when offered a comfortable alternative, but I wouldn't have presumed to propose the arrangement myself on a relatively flimsy connection.

I fear I am unfamiliar with much of Lady Annegret's kin; [ emeric vauquelin noted only child ] the Duke de Coucy has, of course, returned of Orlais.

[ unstated: he could be made aware of this ]

I've never met the Duke myself, but my understanding is that he has little interest in his byblow, except perhaps inasmuch as M. Bellerose conducts a correspondence with his granddaughter.

For what it's worth, M. Bellerose and I parted on amicable terms, but he and I are not currently in touch. As I said, ser, it was not a strong enough connection I would have presumed upon it, but I trust whatever he said of me was sufficient to make me seem a likely option to Lady Vauquelin.

Very well.

[ a neglected bastard, and fond of gwenaelle. a ruthless man might make dangerous work of the position; even so, there are limits to the paranoia she’ll allow. his name was freely enough given that digging is unlike to reveal much — most secrets are better-kept than the vauquelins’ shambles.

a neglected bastard, and more pressing: his companion. the pieces fit ill, but perhaps that's only for the frame of the broader puzzle, already jammed full of faces without rhyme or reason. she can't complain. the gridlock's half her own making. ]

Thank you, Enchanter. I apologize for the abrupt nature of the inquiry. If there is aught you require upon your return, do not hesitate to ask.

Hello, you. I trust the new position isn't making you too exhausted? Or the workload getting you too winded?

Worried about my well-being? I'm touched.

[It's lightly said, genuinely warm enough. But Anders has known Julius long enough that he might catch an undertone of wariness, too, as if he suspects he's been ratted out but doesn't want to tip his hand if he's wrong.]

[There's something there. He's not quite certain what it is, but it may be the confirmation he's afraid of finding.]

We were good friends once. I'd like to think we have some of that remaining.

[His voice is equally light and warm, but he's going to get to the point rather than dance around it.]

And even without that I've always believed in mages looking after their own. Have you had any odd spells, Julius?

[There's a pause long enough that it's clear Julius is weighing his answer.]

That description makes it sound frequent in a way it isn't. And I don't think it's whatever the rifters have. If it's anything at all other than overwork.

[Another, briefer pause. Then:]

What made you ask?

[A heavy sigh.]

Because it sounds like you make four, and all from Kinloch Hold. There is no other common thread.

Maker.

[Now that he has someone other than himself to be concerned about, suddenly it's easier to talk. At least in some ways.]

For me, it's been a few brief moments of paralysis, over the past few weeks. No common thread that I've been able to pin down, long enough between incidents that I thought they might go away.

I've had two spells of weakness, and my...

[He swallows. This is the most difficult one, for him personally.]

My magic failed, once. Like I'd been silenced, when no Templars were around. The third has had weakness spells, the fourth has had confusion and weakness. All of the various incidents had gaps between them. And there are no traces, Julius. I've examined myself and both of them, and found nothing that would cause this.

[His pride is injured on top of the rest.]

[In some ways, the fact that nothing is wrong should be reassuring. It's really, really not.]

Do you suspect it's connected to the other form of illness? Or just an amazingly wretched coincidence?

[While he generally doesn't believe in coincidence... there's a lot of bad things going on in the world, and not all of them are necessarily connected.]

[It's absolutely not reassuring.]

I think it's a wretched coincidence. There aren't any symptom parallels, and I can detect things wrong in those suffering from the blue fever. On top of that, my first spell happened a full week before I believe any of the current illness symptoms was reported.

[He takes a breath.]

I... I can't think of many things that don't leave traces. And I really am not comfortable with how it seems to just be mages from Kinloch, not when I saw some of the experiments Templars were running on people here.

[Greagoir, he feels, wouldn't have approved anything like this, but that doesn't preclude Templars taking matters in hand on their own.]

I don't like it either.

[Probably unnecessary to state, but still.]

My first spell happened before, too. Not long after the first of the month. But we need more information before we can draw good conclusions. After all, even if we have Kinloch Hold in common, we left at different times, under different circumstances. It could as easily have been something we were passively exposed to as something done to us actively, for all we know.

We can't keep this hidden indefinitely, regardless.

[Says the man who began this conversation Illness, what illness?, but even so.]

Not indefinitely, but for as long as possible.

[He hopes the fear he feels isn't showing in his voice, but he's never been the best at masking things.]

I can't risk being seen as an easy target, not in this city. I know there's likely rumors since one of the spells happened in my Clinic but I cannot afford the knowledge spreading.

It'll look worse if it comes out we were hiding it.

[His tone is quiet, and not unsympathetic, but firm all the same.]

I won't share your name without your permission, but think about it. If those of us affected decide together, now, who to tell and how, we control it. I've had at least one of these spells in front of another person, and it sounds like you have too. The longer we wait, the less likely we are to have a say in who knows when.

Says the person who dodged my initial questions.

[He's quiet for a few moments after that as he puts his thoughts in order.]

If it isn't a disease and it's something that's been done to us, we have every reason to not tell because we're trying to weed out the source. And the fourth, who suggested it might be an enchantment, will most likely not speak with you, so coming to a consensus would be difficult. Your allegiances mean they do not want contact.

When I thought it was just me. I still planned to speak with someone once the more urgent health situation was under control. You know I... am not an avid fan of appearing vulnerable.

[And never has been.]

This is a different situation. I'm not talking about broadcasting it for the entire organization to hear, I'm talking about approaching someone you trust, someone not from Kinloch Hold. Even if it's not someone in a position of substantial power -- considering how many of them are ill these days, it would be easy to argue they're not the best choice even if someone challenges it later -- telling anyone else might help us in the immediate and would definitely help us in the long run. Because otherwise someone will use it to say "look, we knew mages can't be trusted, what else are they hiding?"

[A small pause.]

Not that I'm forcing the issue with the third party in question, but... you, at least, know that whatever my politics, I wouldn't purposely put anyone from home in harm's way. Don't you?

[He knows it was never home to Anders, really; he knows that either way it's gone. But it matters all the same.]

Edited 2018-01-24 03:25 (UTC)

[He listens to it all and there's a short pause on his end too. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.]

You do not mean them harm. I know this. But they suffered at Templar hands and you want the Circles back, Julius. They've suffered so much that they're trying to avoid magic itself, so your goals terrify them as much as my goals terrify some.

As far as others... I can safely name Inessa as our other afflicted, and the witnesses of spells are my husband, Teren, and Vandelin. And my husband reported the matter to the other two leaders of the Wardens as he took the day off after. So we could say that Warden leadership is all aware of it. I do trust them, and only one is ill.

I don't want... No, you know what, neither of us are well and this isn't the time for a nuanced argument over the future of mages.

If you've told the Wardens about you and Inessa, that will likely serve. Given the Wardens' general history of being rather insular, I may talk to someone else myself. Myrobalan is a talented researcher and I know he can be discreet, he's a possibility.

I'll keep the other three of you out of it as far as it's up to me. But we'll get farther, faster, if we collaborate.

[That's a rather good reason to not have that discussion right now.]

Let me confer with them and I can see if there's any sort of opinion on what path to take, please, before we bring in other mages. I believe Myrobalan can be discreet as well, but this is going to impact everyone.

Fine. It doesn't seem as if the progression is so rapid a few days will make a difference, and I was planning to wait and see how it played out either way; the new urgency is mainly that it's not only my health in the balance.

Just... don't shut me out. I know we have our disagreements, but I don't want any of us to suffer a moment longer than necessary, and I want to help.

I would not shut you out.

[It's said with complete certainty.]

Whatever we are, you still have importance to me. And I'd not leave a patient in the dark, either, even if you didn't.

[He goes, and a couple of hours later he's messaging again with a little amusement.]

Never mind. You already know who he is and what he is, and we're gathering at [room place thing] at [time] to discuss what's going on, all four of us if you're free.

Kinloch Hold is not a factor. I just spoke with a Circle mage who never lived there and was displaying symptoms.

Well, I don't know if that's good news, precisely, but it is good to know.

Should we start discreetly checking with other mages, then? We should try to get an idea of how widespread this is.

I think we should, yes. If it's happening to all Circle mages regardless of location, that would tell us much.

Right. And if no apostates are affected, that greatly strengthens the [deeply unnerving] phylactery theory.

I'll start asking discreetly, with people I know. I'll assume you and Anders are doing the same.

[Poor Colin doesn't need to be extra terrified by forcing him to talk to a lot of mages he doesn't know.]

Edited (html) 2018-02-04 02:02 (UTC)

Indeed. The more information we have, the clearer this picture will be...however unsettling.

( terse, quiet— )

I'm sure you've noticed the upheaval in the house. I,

( exhale )

I don't know what the situation with it will be. Soon. I hope, um—

If you'd prefer to decamp, I understand.

I have no immediate plans to do so unless you'd prefer me out from underfoot.

[A pause.]

I have gathered that the upheaval isn't the sort of thing I'm in a position to do much about, but if there is any way I can help.

[He hasn't resorted to listening at keyholes, but he's also not oblivious.]

I don't...think so. I've been disinherited by the Empress.

( add that to the list of things she hates celene for, and whoever the fuck told her—

he can find out why for himself, if he listens to the gossip. it's been getting easier, talking about guenievre, but this is not that. this is not easy at all. )

Maker. My condolences.

[For all they aren't precisely close, it's sincerely meant.]

I can be ready to leave quickly if it comes to that, but I'm in no hurry to abandon ship before it's necessary. As long as you have use of the place, I'm glad enough to go on protecting it.

( she hadn't been expecting. there's a pause, then: )

Thank you, Enchanter. I will inform you if things change.

I will be remaining in the Gallows until such time as the auditors leave and the question mark over the residence is resolved.

( she just sounds tired. )

Understood. I can be out from underfoot too, assuming that's what you'd prefer?

Or, you know, if you'd prefer me to play at cluelessly obstructionist just long enough to annoy them.

Please do not antagonize people who have the authority and impunity to take everything I have.

( no wonder she's being such a bitch to anyone who doesn't. )

My apologies for a poor attempt at whistling in the dark on your behalf. I wouldn't have actually.

Is there anything you need for now?

( gwenaëlle is dramatic on a good day; the last few days have not been good. it's a work in progress that she doesn't snap at the apology, too—

he is being quite kind. it isn't his fault she would like to test her claws on anything in range. )

No.

( a beat. )

—thank you.

As you say.

[He might have left it there, but eventually decides on:]

I'm certain you have those closer to you to lean on, but I shared your home for a time. If you think of something you need in the future... the offer stands.

[Julius had not at all meant to get attached. He blames the fact she takes such good care of her dog. That is certainly why.]

( she's quiet, briefly. )

I appreciate that.

Speaking of waylaid phylacteries, the Inquisition does not have yours. I took it. I wish I could have taken more, but at least I have the one. Shall I bring it over?

Maker.

[Faintly. Then, less faintly:]

I would appreciate that very much. I am at your disposal.

Where to, exactly? I understand the living situation has changed slightly, but I've not heard where you landed.

Indeed. Back in the Gallows again, sixth floor of the former mage tower. I'm here now, but we can arrange another time if it's more convenient.

I'm on my way.

[And sure enough, about fifteen minutes later there's a knock on the door by a mage who has his other hand jammed deeply in his pocket. He'd have no complaints if what's held there is prematurely broken, but there would be an issue if someone saw it. Somehow. Even though it's in the pocket and not capable of jumping out.

...He's a little paranoid about the phylacteries.]

[In this case, at least, not without some reason; Julius lets him in and closes the door again before he speaks.]

...thank you. Really, I -- it's more than I expected.

[It wasn't a choice without risk, and both of them know it. Julius certainly wouldn't have thought any less of Anders if he'd confided it to securing his own.]

[As soon as the door is closed, Anders pulls out the brightly glowing vial and holds it out.]

Of course. I'd an opening, and you're my friend.

[Seeing the name had made the choice easy, seeing the glow grow as they got back to Kirkwall had confirmed that it belonged to this Julius. All of that, and:]

And it's not like I trust the Inquisition with them. They'll defeat Corypheus, they're important for that and so I'll support them with that goal, but after that they're part of the Chantry and they're going to want a means to retain power. These? These could be key to that.

Maybe they'll surprise us.

[He thinks not, but it's not impossible. They should have done it without prompting, but prompting might be sufficient if done persuasively. Still, he takes his own phylactery with gratitude.]

Even politically, keeping the phylacteries is short-sighted. But rhetoric claiaming you're overturning years of prejudice is easier when your choices are "mages" or "mages we can't control." Besides, many of the senior mages are, from what I understand, here rather than in Skyhold. At a minimum, they may need someone to point out to them that this could undermine their post-Corypheus power as easily as support it. In many ways, I suspect keeping them is the riskier option.

Enchanter, [ formally. ]

I would like a meeting with you, Knight-Enchanter Voss, Lady Vivas, and Enchanter Elris. Would you be willing to make the introductions?

Provost.

I can't say I'm entirely surprised. I can't answer for their willingness to speak, but I am happy to make the introductions and ask. Under the circumstances, I can't blame them for being wary of the four of us gathering if they are, but I think your calm speaks for itself.

[Of the people this request might have come from, Thranduil is a better option than many.]

I do not need all four. I would meet with one alone, but I would not wish to offer insult.

Two at minimum. And I would have this done with all possible haste, please. Before any of our newer arrivals attempt anything.

[ that's not a threat. that's a concern. ]

I can offer my office. [Possibly as close to neutral ground as is readily available and workable for the purpose.] If that will serve, I'll see what can be done.

That will suit. Thank you.

I am anxious to address this sooner rather than later.

Enchanter Julius. I am returned from Tevinter. I would be glad to meet with you whenever you are free to do so.

I'm glad to hear you've returned. Would tomorrow suit? I've an office in the central Gallows tower, I expect to be working most of the day, so I'm at your disposal.

I can be there. I will come in the morning?

Yes, I'm an early riser, so that will work well. Let me know if you have any trouble finding your way.

[On the assumption that he doesn't, he'll find Julius in his office as promised, working his way through a stack of reports. His desk is tidy but full, and there are a few maps (or perhaps very large scrolls) that he's propped up in a corner for lack of room to roll them out fully.]

[ Hanzo wakes early too, even if he might not like it, and after making sure that he's fed his little lizards he makes his way to the offices. Pausing outside, he hesitates for a moment before he knocks and steps inside, only a single step. ]

Enchanter.

Ser. Thank you for coming.

[He gets to his feet and offers a hand to clasp; he's not entirely sure whether that's a custom they have in the north, but if not, he's surely been in Kirkwall long enough it's not surprising.]

I apologize for reaching out to you originally at the time I did. Word of the situation hadn't yet fully reached me then. My enthusiasm for assistance, though ill-timed, was genuine.

[ Hanzo does very little more than reach out and accept the handshake, nodding his head. ]

It was no fault of yours. No one could have predicted what was going to happen in Minrathous. [ He moves, sitting down slowly. ] I was not imposed.

[Once he sits, Julius resumes his own seat.]

Alright. So. I've been giving some thought to where to begin, but before I do, I was curious. What led you to apply for the position?

I worked for many years in Tevinter. I want to stop Corypheus and the Venatori and I know how and where to find information on him. If we can find that then we can stop him.

[ He's completely serious as he speaks. ]

I have not been home in a long time, but I thought I might be of some use.

Good. Well. I take it you've been briefly on the general scope of the project, and I've made you some notes on what I've been doing.

I've frankly been trying to do the best I can to wade through the materials we have, but I've recently begun to suspect I'm going in circles. An outside perspective is welcome. I also think it may be worth trying to identify more... specific, manageable tasks to assign. It's a massive project, and we've got an interesting assortment of personnel.

[Only slightly euphemistic.]

So. If you know how and where, that's a good start.

I know what to expect, yes.

[ It's a position he imagined himself able to be able to assist in, which is why he is here. He would not blindly pin his name to something in the hopes of gaining status - not when he is trying to keep under the radar. ]

Such information could be found in the Magisterium's library in Minrathous, but that is not something that can be accessed now. [ He frowns, leaning back a little, arms crossing. ] Tevinter would hold the most information on Corypheus as it stands, but there might be some record of other people such as him in other records. With the Circles in pieces it might be that those who were former mages of the circle might know who best to ask for information on the libraries.

Well, we've three Circle-trained mages on the project, myself included. And a scholar from the university at Val Royeaux, not to mention the bard-trained Orlesian linguist, so if we find something, we can almost certainly read it.

[He sighs, lightly.]

There's also the Wardens. They imprisoned Corypheus, once, but they're generally a tight-lipped bunch. There are some letters you may find interesting -- I've indicated in my notes. And there's Warden Larius, who reportedly worked with Hawke to kill him and then inconveniently vanished.

There should be many routes to discovering information, then. If it is something from Tevinter then I will be able to recognise where it is from and where to find more, I am sure.

[ Leaning back, Hanzo frowns just a little. ]

I am not close with many Wardens, so I am not sure what much I could offer. Do we have more information on Larius?

We didn't, actually, until...

[He rifles through the papers on his desk to retrieve a message, clearly sent by raven.]

This came from Skyold just a few days ago. Not a guarantee, but a lead on where he was last seen. Worth following up, I think.

[He doesn't make it a question, but he holds it out to Hanzo, clearly soliciting input. Involvement with red lyrium smugglers doesn't suggest much good about what's become of the man, but it is something to look into, at least.]

[ Hanzo takes it without pause, taking the papers and beginning to read through them. It's not new for him, being involved in decision making and research, but it has been some time since he has not worked independently. ]

Lyrium smuggling. It should not come as a surprise.

[ He frowns, touching the papers for a moment, in thought, before - ]

Is there anyone who may be capable of finding him? You know the members better than I, as it stands.

I was thinking of asking for volunteers, first. Ideally at least one Warden, but not exclusively Wardens.

[One because it increases the chances Larius might talk to them, other people because while Julius has no particular problem with Wardens, they aren't exactly known for being forthcoming.]

Exclusivity to Wardens might cause issues.

[ Hanzo has no opinions on them one way or the other, at least; they're not something he had ever encountered much. Being a Magister allowed him some things, but interaction with Grey Wardens was not one of them. ]

When would you have this investigation start?

I think the sooner the better, unless you've any objections. My thought is to suggest two separate operations; one group might try to infiltrate the smugglers, if they think it can be done, while the other might try to intercept their communications. I'm certainly open to other suggestions, though, if you've any.

I have no objections. [ It's not his project, after all; he is just here to assist as far as he's concerned. He's not the leader. ] A group that is more stealthy would be best, then. I am sure there are project members that would be more than happy to take on the mission.

I'll start pursuing it then. If you've other suggestions for avenues to pursue, or methods to pursue them, I welcome the suggestions. I hope our work will be collaborative, as time goes on.

Not yet, but I will see what I can discover. I may have some... Connections in Tevinter that may be of use, once there is an opportunity.

[There's a pair of grey, warm, sturdy socks that have orange tabby cats stitched into them. With them is a scrap of parchment that bears the letters A.H.]

Enchanter Julius,

[ the title's fishing more than anything. ]

I need to submit an official request that you dye your hair black. Ink will manage.

Edited 2018-10-07 03:10 (UTC)

...may I ask for elaboration on the reasoning?

There are entirely too many light-haired mages of middling height and build —

[ julius is not of middling height. he is, unfortunately, tall. ]

— Engaged in the hunt for Corypheus. Here I am, mistaken for a Fereldan multiple times a week. It's inhumane.

[He laughs a little, despite himself.]

I see. Have you tried exaggerating your accent, or perhaps loudly observing that you are allergic to dogs?

Edited 2018-10-11 23:23 (UTC)

Oh, that won’t do. The other one’s too fond of cats.

[ but: more seriously ]

You accompanied the negotiations at Skyhold.

[ that's not much of a question. ]

I did.

[He's not entirely sure what to make of the tone.]

I even participated while attending.

I should hope so; I voted for you.

[ and marisol. but if anyone ever tells her that he may actually die. ]

I imagine more was left upon the table than either of us would prefer.

[He exhales.]

Yes, that's fair to say. Though under the circumstances, I do maintain we could have done much worse. And, well... [wry] I strongly suspect much of it is not written in stone.

[Both for better and for worse, unfortunately.]

Was there something particular on your mind?

The nature of its engraving. Should any further crises present themselves, Skyhold won't sit through a third round of negotiations,

[ it's a small miracle they sat through the first; isaac hadn't expected so optimistic an outcome ]

Or let us sack into their rooms another few weeks.

[A pause, not as if he's shocked, but if he's selecting his words. (Or, perhaps, double-checking that the message is private.)]

I think that, as long as the crisis remains acute, they are not willing to do without mages, or even the majority of mages. In that, the strike achieved one aim. It proved that they were not willing to discard the resource, even with less than perfect docile passivity.

How far they can be pushed, or wisely should be, is a different question.

And how far might we be?

Wisdom requires a consensus. Just abstention from healing split us down the middle, and that was never going to be tested.

Unity of feeling is dangerous when it accompanies no unity of method. If word of Skyhold's indolence had reached us without a plan in place, which voices do you imagine would be agitating? How would it have swung, given the choice between no choice, and escalation?

[ four years ago, but they both know how the aequitarians voted. once the rebellion was out of its box, ]

If the threat of a strike falls flat, or will be imagined to?

[ this is all a bit hypothetical: the inquisition needs them more than ever right now. but as a (strictly hypothetical) agitator,

well. it's nice to know how people see themselves. ]

No large enough group will ever be unanimous, [he observes, simple and mild, if perhaps masking something a bit more focused.] The strike wasn't. The rebellion wasn't. That's not exclusive to mages, we've just got higher stakes for our internal disagreements and fewer allies to create a margin for error.

I don't think we need to imagine too hard, when the Rifters provided an all too apt object lesson shortly after. They have less in common, or many of them think so, and they managed not to send the former head of diplomacy in their delegation to Skyhold.

[He allows that he may be biased in Petrana's favor, but even allowing for that... he thinks it's illustrative.]

And hitched us together for it. We owe Mme. de Cedoux a debt,

[ which isn't an endorsement of sending her, but certainly isn't a rejection of it. resources shouldn't go untapped, if perhaps, they also shouldn't go before the faces they just spat in. ]

That we don't to her fellows. They're quicker to call for blood than our most extreme. I don't imagine they were reined in to negotiate without promises,

[ he does listen to the crystals. to card games — ]

It would do to be aware of what those were. The next internal disagreement will be shared between us.

Rather my point. For good or ill, the Rifters are less a group than we are -- not that mages are so unanimous, I grant you, but the Rifters provide a cautionary tale as to the alternative.

But. I agree that I would like to know what promises were made. It's easy to imagine the sort of lumping together the Chantry and others might like to do the moment they're able. Did you have a particular method of finding out in mind?

Would asking be gauche?

[ that's a genuine question. you got a better idea julius ]

Possibly. It rather depends on how you ask, I suspect. Based on observation, anything that comes across accusatory will get us nowhere, but I wish I knew more about any of the people we'd be approaching, to decide on a way to frame it. Three of those who went I don't know at all, beyond reputation. I've worked with the provost, but I can't say I've much of a read on him. And I think I inadvertently offended Adalia's dragon, the one time we spoke. You?

[ the provost keeps a tranquil about. it says something, isaac suspects, of his willingness to share. adalia isn't an option. the other two,

this would be a lot easier if someone would just cry out internal policy considerations during sex. or another someone would then willingly share that information. if julius is pretending to complete obliviousness, he's done a fine job — but isaac doubts that. it's easier to refuse to see a question than to falsify an answer. ]

Perhaps we're going at it from the wrong angle.

[ reconsider: ]

Whose voices do we know most in need of taming?

[ who were the promises made to? that other one. sign elf. ]

Edited 2018-11-18 10:54 (UTC)

[If Julius is pretending to a bit of selective obliviousness, well... Isaac isn't calling him on it, so it's more or less worked for the time being.]

A valid point. Who's already shown an inability or disinclination to keep their thoughts quiet? Perhaps a productive avenue for "just asking," that.

Enchanter Julius...whenever you have a moment, I'd like for us to speak. I have no preference as to over the crystal or in person, though if the latter you're welcome to share in my tea break.

Inessa, I've always time for you. And, in fact, I suspect I'm overdue for a break myself.

[Not that he's at all prone to forgetting to take them, of course.]

I'll be there directly, if you were planning to take it soon?

I am, yes.

[She's the sort of person who wouldn't think to mention it if there was something she might have to put off.]

I'll see you shortly, then.

[Julius doesn't keep her waiting long, wrapping up his work and heading over to her office promptly. It doesn't sound like an emergency, but he tends toward promptness. When he arrives, he knocks lightly on the door frame.]

As promised.

Enter.

[Inessa is seated on one of the comfier chairs instead of her desk, a steaming cup of tea in hand due to the teapot placed on the table between her chair and the other. When there isn't a need for formalities, she tends not to have a desk between her and company. Garahel is curled up on the floor at her feet, lightly snoring away. She gestures to the other chair and the untouched steaming cup awaiting him with a small smile.]

You might want to give it a moment, it's freshly-poured.

My thanks for the warning.

[He's smiling, a bit wry, and comes to sit as invited.]

Well, now you've done me a favor; I can, in fact, say I took a break from work today if anyone should ask. So, what can I do for you?

[He is not unhappy with her company. But he also generally expects people to send for him if they want something. There's no judgment in that assessment, but it remains persistent beyond situations where it might be called for.]

[Her smile grows sheepish, not feeling any judgement and yet it's not an inaccurate assessment. Not even because she looks up to him, but also small talk is not her forte. She seeks people out when there's a purpose.]

I...we never had a chance to speak, after what happened in the beginning of the year. [The volume of her voice dips, hesitantly broaching the subject of that awful experience.] It was too chaotic, then, and afterward everyone was in recovery mode. Understandable, but I don't know if avoiding the topic forever will serve either of us. Kinloch Hold was our lives for so long, after all.

[As she stirs her tea, her gaze moves back to meet his.] So, it's as much what I can do for you, if you'll allow it. I don't want this to be one-sided; you have as much reason to vent as I...perhaps more.

Oh.

[He's surprised. He supposes he shouldn't be, under the circumstances, but so many of them have just swept what happened under the rug or focused on anything else. (The Divine Election was to hand, among other things.) It almost seems as if he'd stopped expecting anyone to say anything at all. And so, there's a brief pause before he says:]

I told Madame de Cedoux, when we talked a little after. It's hard to know, with the three of us there, what was from your actual memory, and what was filled in. Anders' fears, my imaginings.

[A pause.]

It isn't as if I never pictured it. I saw enough of the aftermath, it was hard to avoid mentally stepping back to what must have happened. Fast, slow. Whether people suffered. But it felt... I hardly wanted to make anyone relive it, just to satisfy that sort of grim curiosity.

[That brief pause has her wondering if she overstepped herself, but she relaxes a little as he begins to speak. Lifting her teacup, she takes a moment to sip. That centers her a bit more.]

It's difficult for me to say whether or not all that we witnessed was accurate to that horrific chain of events. I was a child, and I didn't see the spark that set the tower ablaze, or what the Hero of Ferelden did to put it out. I...do remember having a lesson in the library, hearing chaos from the stairs leading up to the second floor. Everything happened very fast after that, but not so quickly that I saw nothing. Those abominations you saw, the blood mages seeking other mages to torment or turn...I remember enough to know that was true.

[Her voice remains calm, that shattered composure long-since repaired, though her eyes darken a touch.] It's not anything I would ever have wanted to purposely inflict on anyone, though I suspect the spirits were drawn to me for my memories. For that, I am sorry. You have enough to balance, without being shown what happened in such explicit detail.

[It was as much his home as hers, and who wants to remember their home like that?]

As I said, [quiet but wry.] It isn't as if I never imagined. We knew everyone who died that day. It's not as if the Circle was large enough for there to be stranger, even if you weren't equally close to everyone.

It always felt empty. I don't know about you, but it did to me. We had new apprentices, yes, the odd transfer, but it didn't make up for it.

[They'd lost people at Denerim, too, those who'd survived Uldred only to fall to the Darkspawn.]

It was hard not to feel guilty for not having been there, even though it was just chance. It's not as if there's any guarantee any of us who weren't there would have made any difference. But one can't help wondering.

[She nods with a melancholy smile, remembering well a few faces who didn't survive the day whatever her actual closeness to them.]

That year was a hard one. The Circle felt emptier for a long time, and I know we all felt it. The Templars, too.

[Something she never talked about with Anders, certain he had no interest in that perspective.]

I think I understand what you mean. I hadn't made any meaningful contribution, but if I had been older, more capable, perhaps there would have been a few more familiar faces at the end. Perhaps you could have saved them, too, but...you could have been killed or taken, as well. I'm just glad you lived, one more teacher we didn't lose.

[That gets a muted smile.]

Well. At least the both of us know, in part, that our regrets aren't based in logic. There was no fairness in who survived and who did not; no logic to it. It simply was.

[They'd almost none of them survived, as close as they'd skated to annulment... but one trauma at a time.]

It left a lot of empty chairs at mealtimes, but it also made me value everyone left the more, I think.

[It simply was. Inessa makes a mental note to tell herself that more often. Appeals to fairness and logic in the face of such a time of senseless savagery wouldn't lead anywhere sane. She manages a small smile in turn.]

Likewise...I think everyone I knew closed ranks a bit. The petty rivalries and whatnot didn't seem to matter anymore, or at least not more than offering each other some comfort.

...well, unspoken comfort. Very few actually seemed to talk about it, as we are now.

No. It seemed... well. There was hardly time, in the middle of a Blight, and then after it felt as if it was opening wounds that had begun to heal.

I'd do it differently now, though, I think. At the time it felt as if we were getting back to normal, but that wasn't really it, exactly. Nothing was really the same.

[The templars had been more paranoid, some who'd been neutral turned openly hostile. The enchanters had all kept a stricter eye on the apprentices, and on one another. Things quieted, but he wasn't sure how much they'd ever calmed.]

No, it changed the status quo forever.

[She doesn't remember shifting Templar attitudes, much, but closer supervision by older mages now comes to mind.]

...I wasn't going to bring current politics into this, but now I have to ask; did seeing all that influence your thoughts on the upcoming election at all, either way?

[He pauses, then shrugs.]

I suppose it's influenced my politics in its way for years. I've never made it a secret that I think that it's a mistake to pursue a future for mages with no oversight or safeguards at all. What precisely those safeguards look like, and how much the Chantry is involved, is certainly worth discussing, but... I suppose find it all too easy to imagine Uldred in a university, or a city like Denerim. If he took so many lives among mages and templars, most of whom could fight back, how many more could he have killed if he'd been set loose on a population with neither magic nor the tools to counter it?

That's certainly fair...and I can't say it hasn't influence my own mindset.

[How could it not? She had been but a child and seen some of the worst that could come of rebellious mages who threw morality aside. Nor did she limit the blame to Uldred; his followers all made their choice. She nods, her mouth set.]

Our worst enemy will always be ourselves and our own kind, if unshackled from concerns of morality. We've seen what happens when mages give into the worst of themselves. Trying to justify it doesn't change the damage done, or lives lost. And blood magic will never just be another school, like any other.

[Did that sound bitter? Well, maybe just a little.]

So far...I admit I favor Agathe. Elise doesn't stand a snowball's chance in the Western Approach, and some seem to forget the potential for severe backlash that would happen if by any chance she was elected.

I agree. I think Agathe is the best choice that will stick. Backlash would be the least of it if Elise is chosen, and the middle of a war is not the time I want to see how long it takes a truly radical Divine to be assassinated.

[It's much franker than he might be in other circumstances, but... he's willing to be pinned down this once, this far.]

If Agathe is stubborn, well... any changes are likely to stay changed, and I suspect she won't go back on anything the Chantry has already promised. It's something to build from.

I also think Isaac had a point in the broader discussion, though; all of us can agree Gertruda would be a disaster. If we can't unite for someone, uniting against someone at least saves us from the worst case.

[She nods grimly at mention of assassination. Elise has too many detractors for that to be anything but a likely outcome.]

Gertruda is a problem...though the wishy-washy one could be just as bad, if she has those strongly in favor of the old system without any changes to influence her. Anything that could grin the ascension of either one to a halt would have my approval. [A small smirk forms.] If the northern Grey Wardens are going to throw away any pretense at avoiding politics, I won't hold back either.

Edited 2019-04-08 01:53 (UTC)

I've no love for Clorentine, but given the Inquisition's overall position, I assumed cooperation there was more or less given. Not that I can see why she'd have many supporters anyway -- too risky. Give me someone I disagree with who holds a consistent, coherent position any day.

Have you any plans in mind?

So far...research. I want to know more about all the candidates involved; their strengths, their weaknesses, their opinions about dogs. [Mostly joking about the latter. Mostly.] And of course if anything uncovered might compromise certain candidates, I would love to see it fall into the right hands. Those voting might not care about the same things that we hold dear, but that isn't to say that the candidates hands are clean. Everyone has skeletons in their closet.

Information is never a bad thing, though we don't have as much time for gathering it as I'd like. In fairness, we probably should have been keeping a closer eye out before now, but... Corypheus.

[The tone of what can one do?]

Corypheus.

[She nods in grim agreement.]

He may not have caused all of the issues we now deal with, but he's certainly manipulated them. No wonder we didn't have time or energy to spare for this until now. And you're right, there isn't much time for research or even action. But...I hate waiting for whatever is to come without doing something to influence it. It shouldn't matter to me anymore, I'm a Warden. They won't make me return, but....

[...she gestures at him, also meaning all the colleagues and friends she's made in the Circle and now outside it. Whatever will happen to them is something she can't ignore.]

I didn’t mean what I said. Not even while I was saying it.

[There's a brief pause, before he replies. Quiet, a bit tired:]

I suspect you meant at least some of it. And you apologized at the time.

[For some of it.]

It's not that simple.

[A pause.]

I don't think you're like that. There are people who are like that. And I couldn't confront them, so I confronted you. It was wrong.

I took you at your word when you said you wanted a discussion. I understand what you're afraid of, but if we can't even talk about it among ourselves, it doesn't bode well.

I did want a discussion. I didn't realize--I didn't know. I didn't think I'd feel what I did. And this is why I never, I never lead discussions or anything. I'm mad. I'm good at putting up a front, but I'm completely mad.

Edited 2019-03-23 21:39 (UTC)

Being frightened isn't madness. But it also doesn't undo what was said. If I claim not to be a cook, but try my hand at cooking anyway and give everyone food poisoning, they're not especially comforted by the fact that I freely admit I'm bad at it.

What is it you want from me, Colin? [It's not hostile so much as wary; the sound of a man disinclined to get back into a circular argument he's recently exited.]

To forgive me. [A few breathless seconds.] To tell me that if I must go back, I'm not going back to the same situation I left. That you'll help and protect me.
And that's something you can't promise. I just...need to hear it, even so.

I forgive you for lashing out, though I wish I were more confident you properly understood why I take the position I do.

I can't promise you something that's in no way in my power. But I intend to work as hard as I can to secure a sustainable future we can live with. Collectively, all of us. That was true before, and it hasn't changed.

As for you and I... every mage from Kinloch Hold is family. I'm not going to turn my back on that. On you. But I'm also not going to pretend things are simpler than they are in order to make you feel comfortable. I hope that isn't something you'll require of me. I didn't think it was before, but you can tell me if I was wrong.

[A pause.]

The way I think of you hasn't changed. I still think I could live in a Circle you designed. I just want you to have the chance to design it. That's all I wanted from any of this. I wanted people like you to have the power to change things. And it frightened me to think you didn't want that power after all.

[There's a pause from Julius in turn.]

As several people have recently pointed out... we're no longer all of us in a position to think in total isolation. My future plans are certainly about mages, yes, but as Anders pointed out, I've a partner to think of who isn't a native mage. The future's necessarily gotten broader. Her plans matter too.

[If that sounds as if he's at least partly deferring to Petrana... well. It's meant to.]

[Gently, as if afraid to scare off a wild bird:] And she's a rifter, isn't she? She has the same fate we do.

[A longer pause this time.]

...yes? Did you think she or I had somehow missed that fact?

Edited 2019-03-26 11:13 (UTC)

N-n-no. Julius, I’m just trying to understand your position. Please don’t be cross.

I'm not entirely sure what is so...

[He breaks off his first thought.]

I don't believe I'm saying anything terribly cryptic. Petrana is a capable and ambitious woman, and she and I have both given signficant attention to the future. I didn't expect that to be a difficult thought to follow.

That isn't, no. [Colin takes a breath. He very much wants to stop having this discussion.] But it's not an answer to my question. About not looking for the power to change things. Why are your plans so different if you're both going to the same place?

Edited 2019-03-27 19:10 (UTC)

I don't know what about the fact that I'm involved with the woman who was, until recently, the head of the diplomacy division suggests to you that our joint plans amount to "passively accept whatever is handed to us." My point was that my aims have gotten broader, not smaller, since arriving in Kirkwall. And I don't know what about my behavior has convinced you that I'm not intending to be a significant part of the inevitable change that is going to follow in the Inqusition's wake.

[Colin's mild tone hardens, though it is just as quiet.]

You take for granted that someone else will make space for you in what's to come. But the only thing the rest of the world is concerned with is what they can get out of it, and they got more out of us when we were penned up making potions. They don't respect you or care if you have a voice. You're important here in the Inquisition, but when we're done here? Only the grace of the Divine could save us then. But first, she has to think you're a person. She has to care what you have to say.

I can't imagine why you think I take for granted anything of the sort. My questions earlier didn't spring from a misguided notion that it doesn't matter who wins the election, and frankly I'm slightly insulted that you thought they might have. Not stating my opinion publicly is not the same as not having an opinion.

[The steel leaves his voice, but it doesn't get quieter or louder. His train of thought doesn't seem to have even changed.]

I'm sorry. I'll stop.

[There's real regret in it, but no tears or pleading. He just seems tired.]

Perhaps you'd best, under the circumstances.

[He doesn't sound angry, exactly, but he's not conciliatory either.]

Enchanter Julius.

Ilias Fabria. I wondered if you might spare a moment for— well, what may be a somewhat private matter.

Of course. I'm at your disposal. Should I assume it is a matter best discussed in person?

Whichever your preference; I am comfortable with the crystal if it pleases you. It's regarding the subject of inheritance.

[ Which may be a touchier one for some people than others. ]

[The pause is only brief.]

Well, I am alone in my office, and crystal is as good as anything. What specifically is on your mind?

Edited (better icon choice) 2019-04-06 18:28 (UTC)

As I've no doubt you're aware, [ having been a part of the phylactery negotiations, but also: he's heard things; ] not all members of the nobility are enthusiastic about the prospect of their mage descendents being permitted to inherit their estates.

There was an idea proposed, that we might use that discomfort in the service of the Inquisition, to separate Grand Cleric Clorentine from a number of her wealthier benefactors. If we were able to obtain some assurance of her support of the Inquisition's stance on the subject, we might then spread that news amongst nobles less sympathetic to the cause.

I wondered if the latter is something that might interest you.

Ah.

[A slightly longer pause, this time.]

I assume you're aware that I was sent to Ferelden not long ago specifically to assure nobles that they didn't need to worry about their mage relations coming to snatch their titles out of their hands. I suppose it has a certain elegant symmetry.

Do you know, my mother used to call me the Fifth Blight.

[ she didn't. hello julius, good morning ]

Very endearing.

[He resists the urge to ask whether she would have upped it to sixth once it was necessary.]

What brings you to me, bearing childhood anecdotes?

Self-reflection. We're all getting closer to Darkspawn than we'd like, lately, and the Wardens as tight-lipped as ever.

Any proximity to Darkspawn is too close, frankly. I'd hoped Denerim would be the last time I'd ever have to be that close but...

[The pause is the equivalent of a shrug. But it's Thedas, so.]

So. Are you looking for practical information? I'm not a Warden, or even an expert, but I managed to be in the wrong place for a Blight once.

Monstimmard only took us to the market.

[ that's a lie, even before it's a joke. ]

I was at Griffon-Wing, we got an eyeful of Darkspawn. I'm pleased to report there were no archdemons among them. But here we are, and here's Corypheus with his dragon.

Edited 2019-04-27 21:48 (UTC)

Quite. It certainly looks the part. I was lucky enough not to get too close to the thing in Denerim, but given its size...

[...he'd gotten a look.]

I'd hoped that the notes on Corypheus' captivity might have been more helpful, with regard to his connection to the Darkspawn, but perhaps it's the wrong starting point. I suppose complaining the Wardens tend to be tight-lipped is a bit like complaining the night is dark, but what makes an archdemon different from a run-of-the-mill dragon... that we might find a chatty dragon expert to help fill in.

[It's a bit of a test, as much as it's a real suggestion. It can be both. He appreciates Isaac's intelligence, but Isaac reminds him too much of himself not to invite questions of what he's actually getting at in any given exchange.]

De Fonce returns from his apparent deaths at a positively Nevarran rate, but should the latest vanishing prove more permanent, his friends or a funeral might direct us to rivals.

[ and there are anders' trusted allies: merrill. that other one. anders and his talk of a great dragon (as though they're passing out grades), a taint. ]

A dragon compels... its children, which I suppose isn't materially different from the rest of us. Did the Darkspawn in Denerim react to its presence?

I believe so, as far as I could tell. They don't have any sort of language that I know of, but they were more organized than you'd expect. It wasn't like fighting a pack of animals. They could create choke points or destroy means of retreat, real strategy. From what I've read and what I've heard, that means they were getting some form of direction from the archdemon. Whether it was outright control, I couldn't tell you. They scattered the moment it was defeated, though.

It didn't take the field in Ghislain, [ where plenty of darkspawn had. a pause, ] Wardens did. Or others, posing as them.

An Ander officer believes they have been controlling the Darkspawn directly. What that would imply about their relationship to an archdemon, I can't say. Nothing particularly favourable.

I can't disagree. Wardens obviously have a connection to Darkspawn, but the details of that connection and how it may or may not be used... I certainly can't offer any more than speculation there. It's also possible an archdemon might be able to communicate at range, which is certainly a sobering thought.

Have you ever skipped a stone? In a -- pond, or. Something.

[ look, it's not like he's done it personally. the image is the point: the force of a single throw, altered for each touch upon a surface ]

The tower was next to a lake and we were sometimes allowed near it.

[Bone dry, though not exactly combative.]

Still. A decent working theory. Worth investigating to the extent we can.

Maker if I know how, short of petitioning ours again. But perhaps information might be seeded. Tactical, or otherwise. If its transit could be examined —

The trouble, of course, lies in ensuring it cannot travel by more usual method.

[ wardens are people. people can, like, talk. ]

I suspect they can't be as much of a monolith as they let on. It may be a matter of finding the right person, individually, to ask.

Of course, it could be the same thing in reverse, [he adds, after a moment.] We're talking about ripples in a consistent medium, but it could also be a matter of a weak link in a chain.

[It’s been a long time since last they spoke. Colin thought the amount of time would make it less awkward, but the opposite has happened. He takes most of the day to work up the nerve to do this.]

It’s Colin. Can I talk to you?

Of course. Give me just a moment.

[There's a sound of a few things being moved, a door closing.]

What's on your mind?

[His tone is cautious, neither particularly warm nor cool.]

I, um.

[long story short.]

Back in Justinian, I...I found someone to track down the Templar who, who did what he did to me. We took him to a court of law and he was found guilty. Thing is, they left his sentencing to the Templar order, who just expelled him. He’d already deserted anyway, so... I-I guess, though, the story has him on ice with his noble father. So it’s not great to be him right now, but...

He can still do what he wants. No one is keeping an eye on him.

[There's a pause as he takes all of that in.]

I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I imagine having effectively stripped him of his rank and his resources has some impact on his doing what he wants.

[The observation is quiet, though.]

Do you know roughly where he is now, or where he was heading?

Not right now. He probably wouldn’t go far. Wouldn’t be too hard to track him down.

So I’ve pissed him off and he’s going to take it out on someone along the way. And I...don’t know what to do. I could find him. But having him killed seems...seems like a place I couldn’t come back from.

You're not in a position to kill him, directly or indirectly.

[There's no hesitation in the response.]

It's an especially delicate moment, with the election and us splintering off from the Inquisition. Unless you want revenge badly enough nothing else matters, that's a dead end. For you, and for a lot of the other mages that are in the middle of trying to prove we can be trusted in society. Even if morals are on your side, the law isn't. And you'll be the first person they suspect if he meets with foul play.

I know I wouldn't want to hear as much in your position, but there isn't much more you can do right now. He won't be put back in the position he was in, and being without the shield of the templars and his family may scare him into better behavior. Those are both victories we wouldn't have expected 10 years ago. It's not enough, but we don't live in a world where we can kill every man who deserves it.

[There’s a long pause. Julius is right on both counts—this isn’t what he necessarily wants to hear, but it’s also the right thing to do. And truthfully, the prospect of assassination and responsibility for what may happen to other people was a heavy burden to bear. He lets out a long breath.]

I knew I could trust you to say what’s right. I just...had to hear it. Thank you.

You're welcome. And I'm sorry it wasn't what you were hoping for, but... I'm glad you got even as much justice as you did. Someone heard you and decided in your favor. That matters.

[A sign of progress, even if it truly is a matter of two steps forward and one back.]

Who was 'we', out of curiosity? Who took him to the court.

I don’t want to get anyone in trouble by saying. The Chantry wasn’t exactly pleased with the whole thing.

Fair enough.

[A brief pause.]

How have you been?

[The tone is measured but not insincere.]

Enchanter,

[ it's been a while. sup. ]

Have you a moment?

Of course. It's good to hear from you.

[Is it?]

I trust the provost's wife isn't on fire?

[Hasn't set anyone else on fire. Potato, potahto.]

[ At some point, while Julius is working, which he presumably does with some frequency, Bastien knocks on the doorframe. He doesn't wait for an answer before he ducks into the office to place a bottle of wine on the desk in front of the Enchanter, then turns it so the label (decent, but not overly so) is facing him, adjusts the little decorative hay-string bow tied around the neck of the bottle, and adds a stone cup with a little lid next to it. There are spices inside, but. Lid. ]

It is a funny story, I think, [ Bastien says in the midst of these adjustments—finicky, like he's leaving a mysterious gift to be discovered in an empty office, rather than setting it up right in front of the man.

But does he look like someone who breaks into offices? Absolutely not. ]

Someone put the Vint prisoner's name in my box. Captain Flint drew him, but he said, ah. Absolutely not. To paraphrase. So I bought him a gift myself. But then he is in no condition to go shopping for the person he draws, of course, so—

[ So he could have just given Flint Julius' name and left Benedict to stare at the ceiling. But here they are. ]

The bow is from the hay in his cell.

[Julius regards these adjustments with mild bemusement but glances up at Bastien once he speaks.]

An awkward joke, [presumably of whoever put Benedict's name in the drawing in the first place.] But graciously handled all around. The hay is a nice touch.

[Now he might be actively trying not to laugh, but he's good enough at it that it's hard to tell.]

Would you like to stay and have a cup with me, or have you pressing business elsewhere? Beyond the omnipresent threat to the world, of course.

Edited 2019-12-04 17:52 (UTC)

[ The reaction earns a shoulder sag and a smile—both relieved, like he'd been worried the reaction might be less pleasant. ]

I would love that. Thank you.

[Julius gestures at the chair across from his desk, a clear invitation to sit, before he begins rummaging in his desk. After a moment, he produces a small tin mug, not fancy, but wrapped in a cloth and thus clean despite having been stored somewhere in the desk itself. As he removes the cloth, he says,]

I do generally try to avoid drinking anything stronger than cider while I work, but occasionally Madam de Cedoux stops by and I feel it's only polite to be able to offer her something.

[He'd say she tells him he works to hard... but she doesn't. They're both as bad as the other.]

Edited 2019-12-10 22:11 (UTC)

Ah, Madam de Cedoux.

[ Bastien (who is taking the indicated chair, of course) hasn't spoken to the woman very much himself, but everyone who behaved even halfway decently during their etiquette lessons has a little gold star next to their names in his head. And on top of that: ]

I have heard giggling about the two of you.

I would have thought the giggling would have subsided by now, but I suppose we're an organization short on amusement.

[Also: They know they've been together for over a year, but how long it took anyone else to notice is anyone's guess.]

There could be worse reactions than laughter, considering. I'll take it, compared to the alternatives.

Enchanter Julius.

[ It's a respectable after supper sort of hour, when Marcus sends his message, but the season makes it darker still. ]

If you've the evening to yourself, I'd invite you to share a drink and a conversation. Or a plate at the tavern, if you've yet to eat.

[They're back to titles now, evidently.]

Senior Enchanter. I haven't yet eaten, in fact. Shall we have dinner? I'm almost done with this letter, and then I can meet you at your convenience.

[ Only because he's not being invited to the communal baths, probably. ]

I'll make my slow way down to the dining hall.

[Julius doesn't linger over finishing the letter, so Marcus hasn't long to wait. The hall is far from crowded, given that it's latter than people tend to eat if they plan mealtimes for more or less regular hours. Julius doesn't miss the regular dinner hour consistently; it's good to build bridges, and it's a neutral way to meet someone.

He wonders if that's what's happening now. It's an interesting way to frame a second encounter. But he's curious, and even if he weren't, he'd be inclined to be polite to someone Petrana speaks well of regardless.

In robes that day and taller than many of his fellows, Julius is easy to spot when he enters.]

[ Marcus has located a spot with an air of privacy in spite of the open nature of the hall, which is easier done when it's as late as it is. He is waiting without pretense of having occupied himself in the time it took Julius to come downstairs -- no book or paperwork or other amusement, instead content to silently watch the window nearby, in company of his own thoughts, arms folded and posture forward.

He doesn't really look like a mage. Not only because of the scars on his face, but also his dress; frock coat and necktie and the proper way he's bound his hair all imply a specific kind of upper-middleclass Free Marcher social setting, where Circles had stripped all of that away. Expensive and tidy angles, in plain greys and an absence of flourish.

There is food, also, gathered. The bits and pieces of the end of a dinner service. Stew of the day in bowls, bread, a pitcher of dark ale.

Spying Julius, he sits up a little, and gestures for the empty space opposite him across the table. ]

There wasn't a lot of variety to choose from. We're well into our winter stocks, it seems.

You did well enough.

[He says it with a rueful smile as he comes to sit down.]

It's my own fault for leaving it so late. I got rather caught up in what I was doing and lost track of the time. I'm glad you're eating a bit, too; it's always awkward to eat while the other party just watches, but it occurred to me after we spoke that it might be late enough you didn't want anything.

[ Marcus picks up the bread as Julius speaks, roughly breaking it with a twist but all in a lax and lazy manner, and placing the other half on the other man's side of the table. He then sees about sharing between them the ale. ]

Well, I shouldn't want to make things awkward.

[ Amusement is there, fleeting, blink and you'll miss it. ]

It was a late invitation. In many ways. I met Petra just as winter was getting its teeth in.

[No titles there, evidently. He doesn't react to the lack of it, though, reaching for his bowl of soup to dip the bread in.]

She mentioned. And while I'm pleased to have eventually made your better acquaintance, I'm not under the impression that I'm owed an introduction to everyone she knows. We both have many irons in the fire, after all. Not that I'm ungrateful for the invitation now, mind,

[he adds, glancing up]

but I wouldn't necessarily call it late unless you have other reasons to think so.

Because I expected to make fast friends with likeminded folk.

[ A little bluntly in this admission, like an ulterior motive dug up from the dirt and offered plainly. ]

But I've found there is much work to do, and this is true doubly for those with proper duties, and I have a habit for observation. But, as you say. [ He'll cede the point, spidering his hand over his cup of ale. ]

Well. We're here now, late or otherwise.

[His humor is good, but then, it generally is. Or seems to be. Both, either.]

Is it too bold to ask what you've observed?

[ The answer is 'no', but he says so by way of thinking over his answer for a few seconds of silence, collecting his thoughts. ]

That you have reaped some reward from sincere and diligent work, and that in the same manner as your lady companion, you've found a posting that suits you. Not simply, that is, for your skill, but a position as mobile, and vital, as it is inoffensive.

What I can't learn through observation alone is what you intend to do with it.

[He laughs, quietly and good-natured.]

My bold question, boldly answered. Fair enough. I originally got the posting as a lucky chance, almost; it was empty and they needed it not to remain so, back when we were still the Inquisition. If it's remained inoffensive, it's been largely in the finessing of any inherently sharp edges.

[Of the position? Of his own personality? Evidence might suggest both.]

Why are you interested?

[He can think of a few potential reasons.]

[ During Julius's response, Marcus had set to tending to his food. Neat but not overly mannerly, eating with his hands and pieces of crusty bread, elbows set against the edge of the table. ]

Because the politics and motivations of the mage heading the project that relates most directly to the downfall of Corypheus, Maker willing, is interesting.

And it might, at some point in the future, go remarked upon.

[ Then he smiles, a little crooked, as if finding himself amusing. ]

But please, I truly did invite you to dinner. I've no intention of interrogation.

I have no doubt the Chantry has had a file on me ever since I turned up to try to convince them to be sensible about the cache of phylacteries,

[rueful. It's common enough knowledge that he sees no reason to shy away from it.]

But fair. I'm not the most practiced at true leisure.

[He was about to say these days, but it might suggest a time he was better at it. After a brief pause:]

Miss Poppell did succeed at teaching me croquet, a rifter game with absolutely no practical applications whatsoever.

Well, if that's what it takes.

[ Wryly delivered over his raised tankard of ale, which he then drinks from. ]

Rest assured, we needn't talk about the weather, either. I'd learn more about the organisation, as you see it. My duties thus far have consisted of assisting a Chantry sister in collecting medical leeches, and breaking Petra's fall down a mountain.

[ Very illustrious, all round. ]

Both vital efforts.

[Personally, at least, he is grateful for the latter.]

I suppose I'll start with a question, though. What brought you to us, rather than the Inquisition? I can think of several possible reasons, but I'm not sure which is yours.

Riftwatch has a reputation that appealed to me.

[ His eyes are down, now, as he speaks, focused on his meal. In some ways, he's allowing himself to be observed without challenge, although there is not very much externally to learn from -- save that in spite of some mannerly airs, he doesn't mind talking in and around bites of food. ]

While the Lady of Iron holds court in the Frostbacks, a more outspoken collection of voices started echoing about the Gallows. I have friends, here, more so than out there.

[ He glances up, and adds; ] I fought with a few of them.

[ The likes of Averesch and Voss might dispute a friendship, but. They're not here. ]

Edited 2020-02-08 12:13 (UTC)

[It's fine, claiming Voss as a friend when she's not there to embarrassingly disagree is a high-quality hobby for all sorts of mages.]

I suppose being outspoken is one department in which Riftwatch is likely to hold true to its reputation. We've no shortage of opinions, and no shortage of people eager to loudly share them, for better or worse.

[It's mostly fondly said, at least in this context. There are times he's said it less fondly.]

Hmm.

[ Agreement, hummed around his next bite. He lists back in his chair, then, wiping his hands off crumbs. ]

And if I am to make myself useful in combating a Tevinter darkspawn magister despot, I might as well do so in good company.

A line of logic that sounds remarkably familiar.

[Not so different from why Julius, himself, decided to turn up at Skyhold in the first place.]

If you don't wish to say, you needn't, but I am curious: Where were you, immediately before?

[ Julius is not the first person to invent mannerly conditions prior to inquiry, to alleviate some form of rhetorical pressure or make innocent a bold question, and yet Marcus sort of looks at him like he has, just now.

The distraction passes, amusement receding as he speaks to the question. ]

Immediately before, [ he says ] I was situated not far out of Wildervale, here in the Free Marches. Myself and some companions had negotiated our way into some mostly unused territories to forge something of a home, for the time being. And I was catching up on my reading.

[ Not terribly heroic, but he doesn't infuse apology into his tone. ]

It sounds relaxing.

[Genuinely so. Julius had never been pleased to have to hide, but that aside, his time on the road after the Circles fell had been a taste of another life, and not one without its charms. He wasn't inclined to romanticize it -- keeping himself fed and housed hadn't always been easy. But there were things he missed, too.]

It's common knowledge I wasn't fighting before Corypheus changed the stakes. I was worried, when I first came, that it might be a problem. It hasn't been, for the most part, at least not in ways that impede the work. But it's not as if I had an impressive "immediately before" myself.

[While it's framed as commiseration, it's also something of a quiet test. Julius' lack of participation in the Mage-Templar war is no secret, but he doesn't have a sense of whether it's something that Marcus in particular will judge him for.]

It had its difficulties.

[ Marcus isn't moved to pick apart Julius's words, not out loud, but there is no real sense that he's somehow missed implications, the easy avenues that could lead to something like confrontation. He finds his own navigation. ]

We've not yet entered a world where we can just lay down our belongings and live peaceably, try though we did. Perhaps we felt a little entitled to make the attempt.

And this is not, I've heard, the first time you've taken up arms either.

That's so.

[And, perhaps, not unrelated to his complicated position when it came to taking them up again.]

I'd foolishly hoped the Fifth Blight was my lifetime's measure of potentially world-ending peril, but alas, no such luck.

Most soldiers I've met aren't eager to run back into the fray.

[ Agreeably, spoken as he tears a pinch out of the bread roll he procured for them. Then; ]

Highly dependent on the fray, though. The nature of the peril, the world being imperiled. I want to say that qualifier is both why I took my time as well as why I came back around. Would you agree, as to yourself?

[ He takes a bite of food, a more wolfish motion than the rest of his more mannely affectations. ]

I suppose, in a way.

[Julius considers that.]

The scale of the conflict rather abruptly changed. It felt that whatever I wanted to do next would require the world to survive Corypheus first. And I've never been inclined to sit around and wait on someone else to fix a problem on my behalf.

[He reaches for his tankard, to have a swallow of ale. Then he adds:]

I'm not afraid of a fight if there's some good to be gotten out of it. I suppose the arithmetic of loss and gain shifted fairly definitively. But of course, that will always be a subjective judgment in any situation.

Mm.

[ He'd said this wasn't an interrogation, but perhaps Julius can tell, even with as little as they know about each other, that Marcus would very much like to discard that reassurance as he studies him across the table. ]

Sometimes, [ he says, after thoughtful silence, ] I find the math doesn't quite add up to doing what one intuits as the right thing.

The rebellion did, after all, fail at its war.

I think that's a simplification.

[Franker than he'd often be, but he suspects it's the better way forward, here. He's still feeling Marcus out, but he's willing to extend him a bit of honesty based on his view of Petrana's ability to evaluate people's trustworthiness.]

It was a mixed outcome that got interrupted by a major shift in the state of the world. And anyone who says it's clear what will happen to mages in Southern Thedas after Corypheus is either selling a point of view or hasn't thought about it long enough.

But math isn't everything, regardless. If it were, I doubt anyone would be joining Riftwatch, for one.

[ This last part earns what is almost a laugh. ]

That is so.

[ Agreeing with more than just a joke about the wildcard that is Riftwatch. Done with his food for the moment, he curls his hands around his tankard and lets it rest against the table. ]

Hard though it is to shake a sense of something dead in the water after having fought for it. I should speak plainly-- [ A slightly inelegant switching of tracks manifested too in a shift of his posture, but he makes it nonetheless. ]

My curiousity as to a mage who did not take up arms as others did is not in some-- effort to know who to trust or befriend. Even if your lady companion had not already spoken of your shift in political allegiance, although I find that all the more intriguing. Hopeful, even.

A mixed outcome, as you said, not the least of which because we are a mixed people. The only enemy I would care to make is the kind that would stop others from seeking what they need to feel free.

I've changed what I call myself, that's so. I allow that's not all,

[He can practically feel Petrana giving him a look, for all she's absent,]

but I've always held that separating all mages into two ideological camps was an oversimplification. I understand why it happened, but the fact remains. I've always hoped for an improved, sustainable system. What that will look like...

[Julius sighs, and takes a spoonful of soup. After a moment:]

Has she, or anyone else, talked to you about the incident with the phylacteries yet?

[ It'd be an easy thing, to dive deeply into such matters, and Marcus holds off as Julius steers the conversation along. There's time enough, Maker knows, to embark on the messy business that is the particulars, beneath the veneer of generalities.

But they're just having dinner, so. ]

She spoke a little of that, yes, and her part in it.

Mmm. It was complicated, obviously. But I was part of the group that the mages voted on, to go negotiate. And I thought at the time... it seemed to be the skeleton of something that might be built on. A group of mages — Maker knows we didn't agree on much — working out priorities and working together to try to reach an agreement everyone could live with.

The deck was stacked against us, but we were invited to the table, which was quite a first concession in itself under the circumstances.

[He wasn't sure it would happen, if the matter had come up today instead. But that was a different problem.

I'd heard a little of the mages of the Inquisition forming a council, of kinds, [ he says, absently turning his cup around in place at a fidget. ] Not long after the ceasefire. I couldn't say what they accomplished, what they wished to accomplish.

But I had heard of negotiations over the phylacteries. That the Chantry recognised a negotiation.

[ Marcus, likely, does not strike someone as a mage who is content with small concessions, and his tone is a little flat.

Curiousity ekes into his tone as he asks; ]

What was the best thing out of that, for you?

I heard about the council, too. Before my time, though.

[It's almost absent, largely giving himself a moment to think of how he wants to put the answer to that.]

It was a reminder, [he says, eventually.] An objective illustration of the principle that we needn't all agree entirely in order to be united enough to get something done. It was frustrating and I still think the Inquisition squandered a useful opportunity on an organizational level by being too timid. But it proved to the Inquisition's mages that we could still listen to one another. That was a valuable foundational stone.

[He exhales, leans back.]

Granted, the Divine election was happy to come along and do its best to undermine all of that tentative optimism.

[ For project leads, there is always paperwork. Some of it is even useful and necessary, in addition to unavoidable, and Ilias does not mind the rhythm of it so much, but the idea it must be done in isolation, with no one and nothing else to occupy one's mind, is occasionally intolerable to him.

Tonight, finding himself not the only one still burning candles on the seventh floor, Ilias has brought his to the Project Jeshavis office, along with a bottle of wine in apology for the intrusion. It isn't much of one, at that; cups filled and niceties exchanged, he's content for the company without creating distraction, but as the work wears on distraction eventually finds him nonetheless. Gaze caught on the worn edge of a report, thumb at the fold of a corner, he asks, ]

May I ask your thoughts— that is, if you have ever given much credence to the Chantry's prescription that mages ought not form relationships at all.

[Julius looks up, surprised -- not that the question would be on Ilias' mind, or any mage's, but that it's being asked aloud. To him. He gives it a moment's thought, not because he's never considered it himself but because he's trying to work out what he wants to say on the subject.]

I suppose it depends on what one means by giving it credence. Before the Circles fell, and arguably even now, there are practical considerations to bear in mind. But I think that's different from believing relationships are inherently dangerous.

Is it?

[ Not a pointed question, exactly, or at least not pointed at Julius in any particular way. Ilias rolls it over in his mind the way one does wine over a palate. Considering the precise notes. ]

There is the issue of any children, of course. And within the Circles, the likelihood of separation. But is there not also a practical consideration to be found, in whether a relationship of any emotional intensity might pose a risk to a mage's self-control?

Perhaps to a point. But, some detractors' theories to the contrary, mages are human. Even those who scrupulously avoid romantic partners will have friends. Mentors, protegees. People they care about. Unless one intends to stick to a solitary mage per tower, I don't see a way to avoid the potential for emotionally intense relationships, even if there's no sexual component at all. It's a danger one has to cope with regardless.

That said, you're not wrong about the potential for separation. But it was one of the practical concerns I meant. Not to mention the potential for awkwardness when things end and the two of you aren't separated.

[Locked in the same tower with all your exes, who may or may not explicitly know about one another, indefinitely. That was one thing about Circles he strongly did not miss.]

Ah. [ Ah. His wince is sympathetic, and a touch wry. ] I suppose it's lucky they let Mortalitasi out into the city occasionally.

[ At least he was able to break the hearts of people he never had to see again.

(Most of them are probably dead now. Ah. Ilias reaches for his wine again.) ]

Some mages do make the attempt, though, don't they? Not to let any connection become too strong. To maintain a certain remove, voluntarily, for reasons of piety or otherwise. Or do you think that doomed as well?

No, not at all. But I think it's an untenably extreme position to impose on someone from without, in practice. We all have to find our own ways to maintain control. If some people try to hold themselves apart, that's their right. It's...

[He pauses, trying to think exactly how he wants to put it.]

Someone chooses to fast regularly, out of piety. They find it spiritually enriching; find it enhances their life. Very good. But if you observe that result and then forcefully take other people's food away, most of them won't find it spiritually enriching. They'll just be hungry. And hunger will make some portion of them reckless and substantially less serene.

Mn. [ Head ducking, sheepish. ] You are right, of course. Even a pious man may find he has a powerful need to eat.

I have never tried it, you know. Not fasting, I have fasted, but even as a clergyman, I never saw the point of further self-restriction. Lately, though-- I suppose when things become complicated, one looks for ways to make them simpler, yes?

[ Silly. He shakes his head. ]

I can certainly appreciate that.

[No sane man could argue that things weren't complicated.]

But you'll forgive me for observing you seem to have something specific on your mind.

[He doesn't make it a direct question, so it's easy enough to deflect. But it's clearly an invitation all the same. Julius sees no reason to hide the fact that his curiosity is piqued, considering.]

[ Ilias gives an apologetic sort of sigh, leaning back and bringing two fingers up to the knot between his brows. ] Not something about which any of the parties involved would appreciate my specificity. Forgive me.

[ But Julius is asking, maybe-- ]

Can we say-- in your days of being inconveniently trapped in a tower with everyone you ever made eyes at, was there ever more than one? That had your heart, not just your attention.

[ Or else he'd have to count, like, half of Riftwatch. ]

Ah.

[He is not going to press for identities; given how long it took for most of the Gallows to notice he and Petrana were involved, there's some evidence for his understanding discretion.]

Not precisely in the way I suspect you mean. I have more than one person I think I could have been happy with longer than I was, in different circumstances. Where we ended because because one of us decided the risk of discovery was too much, or that it would be better not to pursue a deeper connection when we were in a Circle and we'd always be stealing a moment here or there. I still held them in my heart after we ended things, sometimes, even into a new affair. But I was never pulled equally in multiple directions at once, as it were. I suspect part of that was luck, though, not anything to do with my choices.

[And part of it was how many people died in the one-two punch of Uldred and the Fifth Blight, but that seems needlessly bleak to bring up.]

Edited (Straighten out, curly bracket) 2020-02-07 03:08 (UTC)

Those sound like much more responsible reasons to end a relationship than any of mine. You might give yourself some credit.

[ Ilias mostly considered none of those things and then got upset when they turned out to be important. So, bravo. ]

I have not been so careful; perhaps that is a more useful comparison. I was once, but— it is easy to forget, yes? In the moment, that one ought not always pursue a deeper connection, as you put it. But once such bonds exist, and there is danger in their inevitable breaking — I suppose I only wonder if it is cowardice or sense, to sever them sooner.

I assure you, I've had a couple of messier ends, too. It just wasn't a mess because of an additional person.

[Breakups can be bad in so many ways, even if you're a levelheaded peacemaker.]

As for your position... I honestly don't know. Retreat can represent cowardice or sense, after all, depending on the context. And it's not always clear on the ground. If it were me, I might weigh it differently depending on what the likely danger was.

[Someone being hurt emotionally requires different consideration than, say, a party being made tranquil or someone getting executed.

[ Ah.

Ilias is not much of a liar. Nor much of an actor, it seems, as the reassuring smile he smooths too-late over his expression comes out a bit less No more than bruised feelings, of course, and more What's a little mild possession among friends?.

Anyway. ]

The greater the danger, I gather, the more caution begins to look sensible. [ And the less one wants to exercise it. A sigh. ] Thank you, Enchanter, that is a clarifying rule of thumb at least.

I'm not sure I feel as if I helped very much, but I am glad you think so, at least. But it is likely fair to say that I tend to weigh risk and reward rather carefully. I know it's not everyone's approach. And,

[wry]

as I said. I've often just been lucky, at least when it comes to this sort of problem in particular.

For your sake, I quite hope that continues.

( it isn't unusual for julius to find petra still sitting up awake when he comes to bed, however late it might be, but there is something particular about the way she lowers the comb that she's been working through her hair and points it at him from where she's sat in their blankets— )

I had thought this outpost at least was past threatening mages for the crime of performing magic in any capacity, but today I was proven wrong.

( which is a promising opener, although if it were an immediate threat she'd probably be informing him somewhat differently. )

[It's certainly an arresting opening. His eyebrows raise, but he comes to sit on the bed near her.]

Who?

[...seems to be the most immediate question.]

A Qunari in Forces, ( she says, ) Deimos. It is dealt with—and Commander Flint has instructed that I report any further concerns to him directly—but it was...

( she takes a breath in. )

Well. It is not every day that I propose a research method and in turn someone proposes removing my hands.

[He reaches out to take her comb so he can set aside and then catch the hands in question.]

Do you trust Flint to deal with it?

[As far as it goes, an honest question; she knows Flint more than Julius does.]

( the conversation with flint had been fraught, but— )

Yes, ( at length, curling her fingers around his. ) Yes, I think so. Marcus stepped in, in the moment, so we both of us were called to speak with the Commander—it could have gone a good deal more awry. Had it been another mage, and not myself...

( not all of riftwatch possesses petra's restraint, or inclination to report misdeeds rather than violently react to them. )

[He lifts her hands and kisses the back of each.]

I might have lost my temper,

[he says with an evenness that suggests keeping it now is still taking some effort.]

How are you? Really.

( the look she gives him in return is mingled affection and exasperation; more pleased than not by the sentiment, but not without lingering worries as to whether or not this is actually the end of it, or if there's still far too much room for catastrophe for her to be at ease with.

she sighs, leaning forward until she's pressed her forehead against his shoulder, which is sort of an answer. )

To take it to the Commander was correct.

( but it sounds like she's told herself that a few times. )

[He lets go of her hands so he can pull her more effectively into an embrace.]

You shouldn't have had to endure threats from anyone in Riftwatch in the first place, even if you handled it in a mature and reasonable way.

[He's not telling her anything she doesn't know, of course, but even so. Some days he feels the precariousness of their position more than others.]

( it is a relief to simply close the door of their quarters and hold onto his sleeve when he releases her hands; as if that will keep the wolves from the door. the longer this war draws out, the more dangerous the compromises they have survived with so far.

she turns her face against his shoulder. )

Marcus acted promptly. The Commander acted promptly. It is...it is as it is. A bizarre day. Commander Flint has made much of his interest in the affairs and future of mages, it seemed. Prudent. To see which way he would jump.

( her pride still stings a little that he called her on it, but there were hardly preferable alternatives. )

If he'd jumped the other way, we would have identified a serious problem to far more of us than you alone.

[He strokes her hair, slowly.]

It's still a problem, I would argue, but a contained one.

That a member of Riftwatch so loathes any mage he will confidently threaten violence to whichever is in front of him is not, I think, itself a problem of only mine.

( not that she doesn't take his point. )

He struck me as cowardly, but perhaps the dangerous sort that will strike the thing he fears.

Not contained to you,

[he clarifies]

but contained in that we haven't a head of Forces who finds it acceptable, by your estimate. That could be a quick way for Riftwatch to lose its mages, which I'm not certain the organization could survive. And in the more immediate, we'd have to find you at least a few more rifters to come along if we were going to leave.

[It's all reasonably said; logistical problems to work through, not insurmountable, but certainly not ideal.]

That is, assuming someone doesn't just lose his temper and preemptively kill Deimos, which would create a different sort of chain reaction.

["Someone."]

( her voice is prim, muffled into his robe: )

I have asked him not to do that. I would ask you keep your temper as well.

So long as Deimos has the good sense to avoid you going forward, I don't see any need for my path and his to cross.

[He's hesitant to promise he will remain so serene if Deimos actually strikes the thing he fears - in a small, fragile form unlikely to effectively strike back. After a moment, he adds:]

If anything happens to you or your hands, I'll help Rowantree plan it to look like an accident unconnected to either of us.

[It's delivered like a joke, but it isn't one.]

( that she does lift her head to fix him with her severest look suggests she can perfectly well hear the difference between a joke and something merely wearing the clothes of one. )

You could not use magic, you would be the very first suspect.

( what kind of man gets caught for murders. honestly. )

[He cracks the barest smile.]

Obviously. He and I would both, in fact, need excellent alibis, as I have a motive and he "acted promptly" this time, which I presume was noticed. Ideally, we should both be out of Kirkwall, not together, on work assignments with other witnesses to vouch for our whereabouts.

...theoretically, of course.

Theoretically, ( she repeats, amused in spite of herself at the promptness of his sketched plan. )

I hope it may not come to that.

I'd prefer not for a variety of reasons.

Regardless, you needn't fear my temper. I've a leash on it, for all I can't relish you being threatened under any circumstances. But I trust your evaluation of the situation, too, you know. If you say leave it be, I will.

[Not because he doesn't care; because he cares so much.]

For now, ( —softer. )

We know. The Commander knows. And he knows that I have the full—

( she stops, momentarily derailed. )

In fact, ( after a moment, ) he may have inadvertently done me something of a service. I was...surprised by the Commander's determination to aid me in locating an alternate source of Qunlat. He was not, I think, entirely persuaded by my theories of language, and though he was more than willing to assist me with Tevene and I am certain if I had made further requests of him he would have been willing to listen and perhaps agree—I was surprised by his...treating it as a matter of course.

( if he still thinks some aspects of her project are a little frou-frou, that's fine; that he ranged himself behind it in support is what matters. that he chose to, when her work (and her hands) were threatened. )

[Julius nods.]

Useful to know. It's a valuable colleague who will support your work even beyond personally seeing the value in it. Do you think he'll find you an alternate source of Qunlat? That's not an easy pull, even in Kirkwall.

[Perhaps especially in Kirkwall, under the circumstances. He realizes it's not entirely the point, and is happy to get back to the point momentarily, but he is interested in Petrana's project for its own sake, not only because of its point of origin.]

( she tilts her hand—so-so odds—as she heaves a sigh worthy of the dog presently sleeping nearby and shifts in his arms until she can rest her back against his chest, drawing one of his hands to her waist and clasping it with both of her own. )

I think he is well-placed to do so, of those who might make the attempt. It's less pressing, I grant you, than Tevene or Nevarran, but it would be immensely valuable even so.

( her fingertips drum against the back of his knuckles. )

He is personally assisting me with Tevene.

[She can feel his thoughtful hum, resting against his chest.]

You've likely already outstripped me. I read a bit of Tevene because of old academics, but never had a chance to pick up the modern, conversational version. I suppose for obvious reasons.

[He rests his head against hers for a moment.]

I'm glad Flint's been helpful. It's not always the impression he gives. [A man inclined to be helpful.]

I grant you I would not ask the man for assistance in putting names to faces about the Gallows.

Well. I would never underestimate your charm, and your ability to use it to make headway through difficult social terrain. I should have mentioned you when I went to meet with him, I now suspect.

Ser Julius.

[ More preamble than most get, not that he'd know. ]

I've narrowed down the possibles to just you and Ser Marcus and I'm thinking that in order to decide, I need to compare your teaching styles. When would you have time to give me a quick lesson, as a sort of...demonstration?

[ She's also trying very hard to sound more refined than usual, which he might have a better chance of recognizing since he's likely been witness to her nonsense from time to time. ]

Of course. Would later this afternoon do? And do you prefer reading or figures, for a demonstration?

[In theory, he's happy for either of them to teach her, so long as she gets the education she's after. But a small competitive streak is hard to entirely suppress. He wants a little bit of time to prepare.]

[ What the fuck are-- ]

Dunno what figures are so I'll leave that up to you. This afternoon works for me, unless you'd rather do tomorrow.

[A brief pause while he actually considers this.]

Let's stick to this afternoon, if you've no preference. Do you know where my office is?

Nope, but I'm sure I can find it. Anything you want me to do or prepare beforehand?

No, no need. I've plenty of reading and writing material to hand, at least by Riftwatch's definition of "plenty."

[Whenever she makes her way up, his door is open. Inside, he's seated at one of two desks; his is neat, but not obsessively so, clearly a place he actually does work from an odd ink smudge and the stacks of reports he's tidied off to one side. He's also got some hot water with honey, in lieu of tea; not the best substitute, but at least it's warm on a cold day.]

[ She enters probably less boistrously than anyone would expect, purely based on personality. She still manages to sneak up on Kostos without even trying. She pulls up a chair across from him and falls easily into it with a fwumph. ]

Afternoon, Ser Julius. I see you're drinking... hot water. How's that treating ya?

Mixed. It's warm, but it's also more or less a reminder that it isn't actually tea. Would you like any? There's honey, so at least it has a taste.

[Ah, "has a taste," the peak of beverage options.]

I'm about to make your day.

[ She digs into her pack--which, he might have noticed, was clinking and clanking a little bit--and produces a jar of citrus marmalade. ]

Mix this with the hot water, it's still not tea, but it's way better than...sweet water.

[He takes the offered jar.]

Thank you. Would you like some water, then, to have some as well?

I do feel that I should point out that if I were trying to bribe you with refreshments, they would be better,

[he adds after half a moment.]

I really was just having some myself.

[ The wave of her hand is dismissive and breezy. ]

And I was just getting a jar for Sister Sara and ended up with four, so I have some to spare.

[ Who said anything about bribery anyway? ]

But no, thanks, I don't need anything to drink.

Alright.

[He pour some new water for himself. As he mixes in a spoonful of the marmalade, he adds,]

I thought it might be more useful to you to start with reading. Numbers have a lot of applications, but I assume you know enough to get by day-to-day, and the complex parts take some working up to. Reading is likely going to offer more immediate rewards, unless you feel strongly otherwise.

[It's an opening; he's certainly willing to modify his approach. They're her lessons, after all.

I'm not convinced I need the complex numbers anyway, just what I never got taught, ya know?

[ She shrugs, then sits forward in her chair. ]

Mostly I just want to be able to read faster than a snail's pace, and write legibly.

Fair enough.

That leads in to my next question, in fact. You've got some basics, if not as much as you'd like. Did you teach yourself, or has someone taught you in the past?

[He doesn't seem to think one is better, or more likely, than the other.]

A bit of both. My clan wasn't big on writing stuff down, and reading and sums was mostly only for trade, which I was too young for.

That makes sense. I suspect part of the reason many Circle mages are so well educated is that they needed to give us something to do that didn't involve going anyplace. If we'd had more to occupy our time, maybe fewer of us would scholars.

[It's lightly said.]

Getting faster will be largely a matter of practice, though depending on what you already know, I may be able to offer some general advice as we go. But for now...

[He produces a small portfolio, and opening it produces a sheet copied out (by him, if she recalls his handwriting from the book well enough). He's left extra space between the lines, room for notes. He also gets her a pen.]

Since you've got a little basis, I thought we'd jump ahead from the very basics. I'd like you to read this aloud for me, slow as you like. When you get to a word you don't know, circle it. If you'd like to try to sound it out, you can, or you can just skip it. If it's a word you've seen before but aren't sure how to pronounce, underline it instead. It should give me a basic sense of a good place to start.

[ She does recognize the handwriting, which will do its part to convince her, later, that she may as well be tutored by both Julius and Marcus, as they both apply more effort than she could have ever expected. ]

What about words I know how to pronounce but don't know the meaning of? Or does that not matter for this exercise?

A sensible question. I've adapted this from an exercise I used to use with younger students, who had fewer of those. Why don't you put a check mark on top of any of those; I'd be interested to see all three.

[The text is a narrative, but clearly one designed as an exercise; the story about a lost dog is hardly riveting. However, the reading level does go up, roughly line by line, as a reader progresses.]

[ Just as the level goes up, so does the time it takes for Athessa to parse the sentences, and the frequency with which she makes marks. By the end of reading it, she's had to stop and ask what the marks mean more times than she's had to use them. ]

[He seems neither impatient nor frustrated; on the contrary, he seems pleased she made it all the way through, even with assistance.]

Thank you. I know it's never pleasant to grapple with something you haven't mastered yet, but this was very helpful.

[He looks over the paper closely, and then gets up to fetch a book from one of his shelves.]

Just like any other skill, it's a fine balance. Pushing yourself enough to grow, but making sure fundamentals are sound. Ah.

[He removes a small book, bound in green leather.]

I think this is where we'll start. It should be about... here, in difficulty.

[Julius indicates a line where she still knew about two-thirds of the words.

You don't expect me to read and mark up that whole thing right now, do you?

[A startled laugh.]

Maker, no, definitely not. I'd like you to work through the first chapter at some point before we meet for a full lesson. Then you and I can work together through how to define or pronounce anything you had trouble with. Over time, the idea is that you'll learn how to resolve those questions for yourself, first with my support and then entirely on your own.

[ PHEW. She exhales, visibly relieved. ]

Okay, I think I can handle that.

Good. And if it turns out I've guessed wrong about your level, don't hesitate to let me know. I want to stretch you a little, not dislocate your shoulder. Metaphorically speaking.

[A muted grin.]

That is, assuming I pass muster. If not, I assume you can ask the Senior Enchanter what the words mean instead.

Would you be opposed to being one of two tutors? I don't have a very good frame of reference for who's better, just that you're different.

[ Shrug. ]

And it's not like getting two perspectives is gonna hurt anything, right?

If you don't mind twice the lessons, I think it's an excellent idea. You'll likely make faster progress, and he and I can fill in gaps. If you don't get something the way one of us presents it, perhaps the other will frame it a different way.

[ An excellent idea! Gosh! ]

Great! So when should we make the first lesson?

Would once a week suit you? Assuming neither of us is away on a mission, of course.

Sure, 'course. That'll give me plenty of time to muddle through readings and practice lettering.

Their lessons don't always take place in the library. Sometimes they happen in Julius' office. And other times Athessa manages to make an argument for taking the lesson outside, or at least into one of the gardens for a change of scenery.

But this time was in the library, so none of that really matters outside of flavor. Though she fell behind during her month in the jungle, and only managed to sneak one lesson in before spending nearly the same amount of time in Orlais, she's making up time quite well. Her writing hasn't backslid into chicken-scratch because she's been practicing, and her reading has stayed where it is because she hasn't been practicing.

With the lesson finished, Athessa tips her chair back on its hind legs and lets her gaze drift over the nearest shelves of books. There are so many, about topics unknown, but she seems to remember something that prompts:

"People write a lot about love, don't they?"

He glances at the shelf she's looking at, to see if any particular titles jump out.

"...they do, I suppose. I admit, I've never particularly thought about it in contrast with any other topic. What makes you ask?"

Not that he can't think of reasons she might; there are too many for him to successfully guess without context.

She answers first with a shrug. The kind of shrug a child gives when bored and asked what they want to do. Of course there is a particular reason for her asking, but for now she'd rather keep that to herself.

"No reason," she lies. "I don't always understand how people talk about it." That, at least, is true.

"That's fair," he said. "I was just recently having a conversation about how I think I still have a lot of habits from the Circle that ... likely don't serve me so well now. But regardless of the extent to which that's true, it certainly hasn't left me an expert on how most people talk about love."

Athessa lets her chair tip forward to return to solid floor and crosses her arms on the table top. "Like what?" She asks.

"What habits?"

He's walked himself right in to this one. With a smile, he says, "I've been romantically involved with the same person in Riftwatch for a little over two years, and there's no reason it needs to be a secret, but people who know us both still don't know because I'm so used to expressing affection only when no one is looking."

It's a frank answer, at least.

“Do they have a problem with that? Not everyone likes to have an audience.”

"We've talked about it. I don't think we would have lasted two years if it had been a problem, exactly, but. When I did want to make a romantic gesture for a special occasion, I hadn't much experience to draw on. It works for us, but it's not the sort of thing I imagine writers are filling their books with." He leans back in his chair. "Or maybe they are, I haven't read enough to know, I suppose."

She nods and hmms and looks back towards the bookshelves. Thinks about what he said, thinks about what she’s said to other people.

“Do you think it’s worth reading them to learn more about love, even if nobody’s ever written about...the kind of love that speaks to you? Like...I mean I haven’t read any of them, but the stories they make into street plays and puppet shows never seemed like the kind of—-“ She doesn’t have the right words for this, emphasized by her inarticulate gesture before she switches tracks entirely. “I mean what’s romantic, really? Flowers? Poetry? What if you don’t like those things? Does that make you not romantic? Or is it different for every person?”

She’s rambling now, but what do they say about objects in motion?

“If it is different, then how come all the stories end up the same?”

"I think it's... hm." He considers how to put it. "I think a lot of stories use shorthand. The same way that battles in a story are always exciting and bold and often heroic in similar ways, right? It's a way to talk about the idea of war without the messy parts where sometimes people are shouting contradictory instructions, and sometimes soldiers just trip over nothing in particular, and sometimes the same person is both brave and cowardly in different circumstances regardless of their underlying virtue or lack thereof. Who wants that? That's a mess. I suspect it may be the same with romance."

"Sounds more interesting than the stories where everything goes as expected," Athessa says with a shrug. "Don't you think?"

"Well, I think so, but I usually read history, not fiction. And I've been told that my sense of fun may have been warped by a distinct lack of puppet shows in childhood, so."

"Meanwhile all I had were puppet shows, and no books."

It's funny, innit? A funny little juxtaposition.

"Is there something that's a bit of both? History and fiction?"

Wryly, he asks, "Do you mean on purpose, rather than just someone getting a bit over-the-top in their attempt to write history? I suppose there must be. A lot of the songs about historical figures are meant to be good stories, not historical record, after all. No offense meant to the immortal poetry of 'Andraste's Mabari.'"

"Really? Huh. My clan's songs were all meant to be historical records. I guess that makes some sense, though."

It definitely explains why humans know so little about elves outside of cautionary tales and bedtime stories.

"Is the mabari meant to have written the poetry, or is it a euphemism?"

That startles him into a genuine laugh. "No, neither -- it's a song about the mabari. A tavern song, though I suppose it's mainly a Ferelden one. It's, uh, not technically good theology to claim Andraste had a war dog, but it's a very catchy song."

Julius definitely knows this song.

Athessa leans her elbows on the table and looks at Julius expectantly.

"Go on, then." Sing the song, Julius.

He considers, then says: "I think it may be against the law to sing this song without either of us drinking any alcohol. Certainly nontraditional."

Hm.

"I'm a Dalish elf without tattoos who has spent more time living among humans than other elves, and I'm being tutored in remedial education by two likely very impressive mages in a world temporarily without Circles," She punctuates her matter-of-fact list of conditions with another shrug. "I think singing a tavern song in a library would be one of the least egregious deviations from tradition."

She definitely picked up a few of those words from the books he's assigned.

It's probably more that he's pleased at her progress than that her argument is particularly forceful, but he raises his hands in surrender. "As you like. Granted, it's much more fun in a drunken crowd, but..."

He clears his throat and launches in. He's not a trained singer, but far from tone-deaf, and his high baritone would certainly do for joining in a group. At first, he's mildly self-conscious, but his evident nostalgia for the song carries him through at least the first verse and chorus -- perhaps further, though that will depend on her reaction.

Her reaction is subdued at first, mild appreciation and triumph that he caved, but as he goes on her smile widens into a grin, and she provides some accompaniment via tapping her foot in rhythm and — for the second or third chorus — sings along with the lines she can pick up quickest. She has a natural ear for harmonies and only what training she can recall from her clan, but even that would barely qualify as "training" in society.

At the song's close, she applauds Julius happily and laughs. "That was great! I gotta say, I dunno why anybody would be against Andraste having a dog, but —" Shrug. There's plenty about society she doesn't understand.

Now that it's done, he's in good humor, not sheepish in the least. "I think the general objection is that it's undignified," he says, "but frankly it makes as much as many of the more commonly accepted stories. Mabari are military assets, with the added bonus of loyalty that can't be bought."

Someone wasn't allowed to have a dog as a child.

"But, to your original point. It's fun to think she did, whether or not it's actually true. The history isn't the point."

"So the point is just to make a fun song?"

"Sure, maybe at first," he says, sitting back. "If it weren't fun, probably not as many people would remember it and teach it to other people. But I don't think it's only that in this particular case. There's some patriotism mixed in; some Fereldans like the reminder that she's from the same place they are. I think it's really popular, though, because it reminds people that Andraste was human. Scratching her dog's ears, feet that got cold, the whole thing. Depending on the person's feelings about the Chantry, it could be aspirational, or it could take the holiness down a peg. Something for everyone, that way."

"Hmm..."

Maybe not for me, she thinks. There's not much about Andraste that Athessa finds relatable.

"Most of my clan's songs were how to find your way, whether back to where you'd planted something, back home, or to worship at Sulahn'An. And about our history, but I don't think they did much embellishing on that front."

"I suppose if song was the main way you passed that history down, you might be less inclined to muddy the waters," he suggests. "I assume you had some songs for fun, though? Perhaps not about historical figures."

"Sure," she nods, "we had songs for everything. Sulahnan means land of song, after all. Working songs, playing songs, educational songs, a lot of sad songs for obvious reasons, lullabies..."

And of them, how many can she remember?

"My musical repertoire is, I'm afraid, rather limited, though I've always been fond of music. My education was light on songs, heavy on books. Probably self-evidently." Either because he volunteered to teach her or, more likely, he's aware of the vibe he gives off.

"Only a little."

Athessa smiles at him and then tips her chair back again, looking up at the ceiling as she thinks. There was a song she knew once, how did it go? She starts to tap her fingers, letting the rhythm remind her.

The song she sings is upbeat, a steady rolling beat the likes of which would be best suited for dancing to, and the words a little ironic for anyone who can understand Elven. It being the kind of song meant to be sung on a loop or in a queue with others, it doesn't take long to get through.

"Song for song, an even trade."

Edited (i always write the wrong end tag for a href) 2020-08-17 21:46 (UTC)

Julius listens appreciatively and nods when she finishes. "I liked it. I only have a phrase or two of Elven -- what's it about?"

"Funny enough it's about rabbits," she says with amusement coloring her tone. It's never great to be called one, but clearly there's some in-jokes about the slur. "Dancing in a barley field. The oldest writes his will and falls into the rushes, the youngest broke his legs, one of them falls asleep in a sorrel field and freezes to death...cheery stuff."

"Perfect dancing fare," he says with a brief smile. "Though I suppose I don't have any room to talk, Ferelden songs have a lot of maidens drowning themselves because their lover deserted them, or their lover died in a Blight, or someone's father didn't approve and they both drown themselves."

Athessa's smile is less brief, but warm. She looks back over towards the shelves, thinking for a moment, then stands to peruse the shelves.

"I don't think I should be, at this point, but I'm always kinda surprised to hear the similarities between Dalish songs and ones from Ferelden or Orlais, or wherever."

"No ... I know what you mean. I'd never left Ferelden until a few years ago, and I remember being surprised that people weren't more different. I'd read about the Free Marches, Antiva, but most of it was about things unique to those places. But beneath it... I think people are people. The differences matter, sometimes, but they aren't everything." A rueful smile. "At least, that's my opinion. For whatever it's worth."

"I think you're right," she agrees, trailing her fingers along the spines of the books she's considering. Waiting for a title to jump out at her.

"I think focusing on the differences just makes everyone think they have nothing in common, when really we should be looking at what makes us the same. I bet we'd have fewer stories about shit like the Dalish luring travelers into the woods to eat them."

"That does seem likely. Probably fewer about just how much Fereldans love thier dogs, too." The delivery of that is gloriously deadpan.

"But then how would we know how great dogs are?" Similarly deadpan, at least in tone. It's easy to see even in profile that there's a smile playing at the corners of her eyes.

"That is a trap I am not going to fall for," he says. "Though I confess, a fraction of the people writing romance novels could write novels about heroic dogs instead."

She hmms in amused agreement. "Yeah I'd much rather read about dogs in love than...Virtue Rewarded." That one, pulled directly from the shelf just to read the title, make a face, and slip it back into place.

"Benedict and I paged through some of the racy ones that someone'd stashed in the back, but they were awful."

"That's a shame," he says. Then, thoughtfully: "Did you ever meet Knight Enchanter Amsel, while she was here? There's a series you might have come across ... what was it, Knight's ... Honor? Knight's Code, that was it. Oh, they might be in Orlesian, though. I didn't actually look, because it seemed rude while she was still here, and I didn't think of it again until just now. But evidently someone used her as the pattern for their series' romantic hero."

Her answer to whether or not she met Knight Enchanter Amsel is a slight shrug and a shake of her head. Athessa either hasn't had the pleasure, or has forgotten. She's never been the best at remembering names.

"If they're not in Orlesian, I think I should like to read them," Or at least try. She pulls out another book, looks at it, and puts it back. "Though I expect sooner or later learning Orlesian might prove useful. Are there more lady heroes in Orlesian books, do you think?"

"You know, I've no idea. I'd be interested if anyone has looked into it. There's probably some poor Orlesian trying to interest the University in a monograph on the subject as we speak," he adds, lightly. "Comparative literature and the Orlesian mind, or something similar. My Orlesian is decent for reading, though my accent is quite bad, I've been reliably informed. If you eventually want to add a second language for lessons."

"I would very much enjoy the look on Bastien's face the first time I'm able to respond to him in Orlesian..." Her own accent, at least so far as single words and phrases are concerned, is passable only when she's not trying. "But I wouldn't want to take up all your time."

"Well, if there's no particular time constraint, I could always slowly work it into the existing curriculum," he says, thoughtful. "The two languages use the same alphabet for the most part, so it isn't as if you'd be starting from scratch. Though the tricky part about Orlesian if you want to speak it is that a lot of the letters are evidently decorative, since they indicate nothing about pronunciation."

Spoken like a man who learned how to read Orlesian years before he heard anyone speak it, and was very confused when he finally did.

That puzzles her, and she pokes her head around a shelf to look at him. "They what?"

He gets up and looks to find a book in Orlesian to illustrate. "Alright, so you know in Trade, most of the time the letters in a word indicate the sounds, either on their own or with their neighbors. Ah." He comes and opens the book to a random page.

"In Orelsian, as I understand it, a lot of them indicate things about where the word came from, but you don't actually pronounce all of them. For example, this word, all of the last four letters are silent. I suspect it's why Orlesians with a thick accent swallow the ends of words in Trade."

"Wha—"

Athessa stares at the word, sounding it out phonetically first, and then dropping the last four letters and reading it again that way.

"Are they doing that on purpose?"

"I think it's to make everyone who isn't from there look foolish," he says, solemn. "I can't think of another reason."

"Very Orlesian of them. What if we just learn the words and not the spelling?" Not a serious question. Her tone might've been flat but her expression gives that away.

"I'm not entirely certain how that would work with reading," he says with a laugh, "though if you want to give it a try, I'll gamely keep you company through the attempt."

"Nah, learning the normal way is fine," she says, and plucks a book off the shelf.

"In the meantime, maybe I'll read this." She holds the book aloft so they can both read the title: Love in the Time of Darkspawn. "Think it'll be any good?"

"Almost certainly not, but possibly entertaining. Though," he adds, "if it seems likely the love is with a Darkspawn, rather than just against the backdrop of them, I advise you to abandon the book immediately."

She snorts and flips through the pages for no real reason other than fidgeting. "I was thinking maybe it was about being in love and fighting the darkspawn, but I'll keep that in mind."

Returning to the table, Athessa collects her things, scraping loose papers into a pile. "Anything I should have ready for next time? Besides the usual, 'course."

Inbox

delivered by a footman.

delivered by a likely looking urchin

crystals;

crystals etc;

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i have zero idea what the atticus thing in my last tag was even referencing lmf

HA I just rolled with it, *mysterious tranquil things* idk

crystal.

crystals; private

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backdated to after the fire, crystal;

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1/2

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Crystal

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sending crystal

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crystal.

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crystal.

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Crystal

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crystal, morning after Thranduil's announcement

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HA I just rolled with it, mysterious tranquil things idk