contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

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[bouchonne]

If I am righteous enough to stand at His side - [ hah, what a thought - ] and you aren't, then I'll jump into the Fade. I'm no Andraste. I choose my mortal husband.

[cozen]

[ Of course, of course, if the Maker exists, if it all happens the way the Chantry says it will, if there’s a chance at endless paradisiacal bliss, if it’s physically possible to leave, if it’s possible for two lost souls to find each other in the Void, if if if, and Byerly gives his eternal reward up for him, then Bastien’s wispy Fade-wandering ghost will read him the riot act. And then burst into relieved wispy ghost tears. And then read him a second, wetter riot act.

But that’s a lot of ifs. Right now, non-hypothetically, it’s the best thing By could have possibly said. Bastien says, ]

Oh,

[ calmly, like he’s been told a mildly interesting new fact, and he smiles because it’s funny, but his eyes have melted into gooey adoration. ]

Alright.

another.

[cozen]

[ Later on this day, Bastien strides into Byerly's office. He leaves the door open behind him. If Benedict is out there, Benedict can suffer.

Without preamble, Bastien turns Byerly's chair at an angle and bends to princess-lift him out of it—and turns directly, with an effortful exhale, to hoist his dangling butt to rest on the desk. ]

One moment. Maybe...

[ He is not all that heavy, but he is very long. Bastien tries to adjust his arms to make the cradling less ridiculous. ]

[bouchonne]

Ooh -

[ A noise of surprise that quickly morphs into a chortle of pure delight. Byerly throws his arms around Bastien's neck, the better to facilitate the princess-carry, and then draws in a deep breath and starts belting the aria from Le Garde du Corps - ]

Je t'aimerai toujours -

[cozen]

[ Bastien laughs and, with his arms adequately repositioned, steps away from the desk into a waltz step while providing an aria-backing string section with hums.

It’s a very awkward princess-carry. One arm is near By’s knees where it belongs; the other is at the small of his back, so he’s held nearly as if he’s sitting upright in a chair of arms. (An arm chair, if you will.) Bastien still has to look up rather than down at him. But he doesn’t drop him, and when he’s confident he has the feel of the weight distribution, he does a few heel-spins for flourish. ]

You see, [ interrupting the song during a logical break, ] I am fully qualified to guard your body.

[ He can do this all day!

Or for about fifteen more seconds. ]

me again, sorry. crystal + pre-antiva.

[cozen]

Byerly?

[ During hours he can be reasonably sure Byerly is still awake and probably working, but Bastien himself would usually be asleep, if he weren't lying awake and ruminating.

This isn't what Yseult meant, with her little dig. But Bastien said no one takes it more seriously, not no one takes it as seriously, and she said Lady Asgard, and Bastien is already sensitive about whether his balmier, more practical feelings somehow count for less. Not as sensitive as he used to be, but still a little. So that's what he's decided she meant. That she doesn't think he'd be as distraught as Alexandrie if Byerly were assassinated in Antiva.

And she can think that if she wants. She's not the one he's crystal-calling in the middle of the night. ]

If something happened to you, I would never get over it. You know that, right?

[bouchonne]

[ Of course By gets all sorts of odd messages from Bastien at all sorts of odd hours. When he hears his name this time, it strikes him that it's a little later than Bastien is usually awake, but otherwise there's no real cause for concern. Sometimes even in the middle of the night Bastien will start ruminating on what life would be like on a boat or the relative benefits of the Nevarran school of cello playing versus the Orlesian school - and so Byerly turns his attention away from the genealogy of the Antivan merchant princes in favor of tending to his crystal.

If something happened to you is not a conversation topic he expects. ]

Do you have misgivings about what we're about to go into?

[ There's no play in his voice. There are conceivable situations where he might answer playfully, but this doesn't sound like a joke, and so he does not answer with a joke. Instead, his voice is attentive and sharply focused. ]

[cozen]

Of course I do.

[ He can claim all day that a Bard can take a Crow. He even believes it, to an extent. If it's a matter of a single Bard and a single Crow. But Bards don't control Orlais the way the Crows control Antiva. ]

Don't you?

[bouchonne]

Of course, just -

[ He purses his lips a moment, then says: ]

Uncommon misgivings.

[ The risk of death is rather constant when you're at war, of course. And while it's gnawed at Byerly often - ever since that damned dream, well over a year ago, with Bastien long dead and Byerly desolate - he's rarely heard similar terrors from Bastien. ]

[cozen]

[ Bastien hums. There's the creaky and rustling sound of readjustment on a wooden bed and medieval mattress. ]

This is the most I have ever wanted to lock you in a trunk and carry you to Gwaren, yes.

I won't. Your legs would have to stick out the end, [ is a joke, but his tone hardly changes, ] and I know you have to do this, and I know you can look after yourself as well as anyone.

[bouchonne]

[ The offer is on his lips: tell me not to go, and I won't. But he doesn't know if it would be cruel to say that. If Bastien asks, then he will make his excuses. He will send someone else in his place. Because Bastien's worry is something to heed, something not spoken lightly or idly.

But then it becomes the war between Bastien and duty. And Bastien should not be a belligerent in that fight. It must be something for Byerly - By alone - to decide, and he must keep Bastien off the line, must keep him from having to make calculations of when to ask and when not to, what tactics to use. That's not fair.

So, instead, he says: ]

I'd made an offer to Yseult - [ To make a target of himself. To draw out their enemies. ] I'll withdraw it.

[cozen]

[ Bastien will be touched by the immediacy of that decision, in a moment. But first he's quiet for a beat, and he wants to know, ]

What offer?

[bouchonne]

To draw out the Crows. To be the bait in a trap.

[ Belatedly - with a guilty start - he realizes that that offer was not his to make. Not without asking. Not any longer. His life is no longer just his own. ]

[cozen]

[ This quiet beat is much longer, as fear and reproach and admiration and a Bard's calculation all collide and clog up his brain.

Do they need a trap? It's not a bad idea.

But not Byerly—

But then who would Bastien risk in his place? Whose death could he ask Byerly to live with?

But Byerly isn't making him ask. (Now comes being touched, though at this moment it's just another thing stuck in the pipes.)

But it's for him that Byerly is changing his mind, though—perhaps not only for him, but enough for him that he would know. That he might be doing what he never wants to do, making By be something less than he could be instead of helping him be more.

But he won't be anything if he's dead.

He says something— ]

Without your bodyguard?

[ —only to keep the silence from stretching out too long. His voice sounds like a tired smile. ]

[bouchonne]

[ The anxiety and guilt tightening in his chest eases. He'd expected - what? Anger, he supposes. Which is silly, because anger is not Bastien's way. Or if it is, it's swallowed, kept back. But he'd expected something, some lashing out, not that gentleness.

Why didn't he ask? Why didn't he say anything? Why did he offer? ]

Not without my bodyguard.

[ Even though that hadn't been the deal. Even though he'd offered something far more dangerous. Which triggers suddenly a blurt of: ]

I think I just want to impress her.

[ That comes out as a confession - a little wry, a bit more ashamed. ]

She thinks I'm a complete fool. I want her to loathe me a little less.

[cozen]

[ A quiet huff. It falls short of a laugh, but it's close. He's not done with his two hundred questions and concerns, but he's grateful for the confession, for the vulnerability of it and for the chance to step back from that tangle of uncertainty for a minute or two. ]

She has that effect.

[ Bastien broke a contract to help her, after all. He broke a contract, for the first time ever, and then he put rocks in a sock and gave himself some significant bruising to back up the excuses he had to make to avoid being murdered for the failure. ]

Her face, you know? She always looks like she knows everything about you, and she's deciding what to do about it.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly lets out a grateful sigh. That Bastien doesn't deny it, that he doesn't make excuses for her, that he doesn't make excuses for Byerly - It makes him feel like less of a fool. ]

Yes.

[ And, more wryly now: ]

And I've always had a weakness for cold women.

[cozen]

[ This huff is definitely a laugh. ]

Queen Anora. I knew it.

[ He hesitates before he adds, ]

I haven't really talked to her about us. To Yseult, I mean, not the queen. About us, or about you. [ They used to talk about Darras quite a bit, before Yseult and Darras worked things out and she could talk to Darras about Darras instead. It would have been fair to confide in her. But, ] I have a hunch she disapproves, and I suppose I haven't wanted her to say so out loud.

[ Because he only has so many friends; because he's a coward, a little, when it comes to the approval of people he cares about. ]

And that's awful of me. I'm sorry. I should have been telling her how great you are for the last year. The last two years.

[bouchonne]

No.

[ That's said very, very quickly. Fast enough that By doesn't even really consider it before it comes out of his mouth. ]

That's really - There's no need for that.

[cozen]

[ Way too quick.

Bastien's pace is more deliberative. ]

I think that there is. Love of my life, [ in his childhood tongue, closest to his heart, and, ] le mari de mon âme, [ in Byerly's. ] What would you do in my place?

[bouchonne]

[ Oh. Byerly melts at those sweet endearments. He sits with them a moment, then confesses: ]

I'd either see her convinced of your worth - or know her for an unworthy lost cause if she continued to be so blind.

[cozen]

Mmhm.

[ The answer he expected. And that settles it. Of course they're different; Byerly plays the game by other rules than he does, winds people up for a purpose or for fun, picks fights where Bastien smiles and dodges. Bastien can't follow along behind him making liking Byerly a prerequisite for his being friendly with anyone.

But someone he's close to (by his standards), who he confides in, and who already knows Byerly is more than he pretends to be—that's another matter. ]

I'll do better.

[bouchonne]

[ But Byerly continues to protest. ]

No. I -

[ He struggles with it a moment, and then lets out a raw huff of breath. He know that Bastien won't be particularly sympathetic to this argument, but with Bastien he must be honest. ]

She argues. She'll question all this and make you think about it. And I don't...want you having to think too hard about it.

[ Which he's embarrassed by. Which he knows is foolish. But still, that fear: if Bastien has to examine what they have here in the cold hard light of logic, that he'll think twice about it. ]

[cozen]

Byerly.

[ Chiding. Affectionately chiding, though, and perhaps not entirely understanding his meaning: ]

I think about this all the time.

[bouchonne]

[ And he tries to articulate: ]

Not in the way she'd make you think about it. She strips all sentimentality away.

[ And without sentimentality...Why would Bastien tolerate all his nonsense? ]