[ 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.
[ 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?
[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. ]
[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.]
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.
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.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action, lmk if this is too much handwaving...
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.
nah, this works for me
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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 subject
[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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
[wry]
as I said. I've often just been lucky, at least when it comes to this sort of problem in particular.
no subject