Entry tags:
contact part deux
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
Maybe not.
[ He wants to think better of everyone. He does, on some level. But on another, Byerly already has nearly died in this office. ]
Gideon could have been a mage. We wouldn’t have known until it was too late. It couldn’t hurt. It doesn’t have to be about them.
[ He wants to think better of everyone. He does, on some level. But on another, Byerly already has nearly died in this office. ]
Gideon could have been a mage. We wouldn’t have known until it was too late. It couldn’t hurt. It doesn’t have to be about them.
No, [ Bastien agrees, because the promise is plenty for him, and catches By's hand to hold across the desk. ] Tonight's problem is how we will justify a little trip for just the two of us.
[ Yseult disappeared for well over a week with Darras, after her kidnapping with Flint, and worked via the crystals. Something particularly well-deserved, given the torture. But if she can do it— ]
You want to make sure we have somewhere to go if Kirkwall becomes untenable, no? Maybe we should hop across the sea and talk to some people with spare fortresses. Or we could go to Kaiten. Introduce ourselves to the Viscount and, you know. Look around.
[ For his siblings, now that By's head from Nadine. ]
[ Yseult disappeared for well over a week with Darras, after her kidnapping with Flint, and worked via the crystals. Something particularly well-deserved, given the torture. But if she can do it— ]
You want to make sure we have somewhere to go if Kirkwall becomes untenable, no? Maybe we should hop across the sea and talk to some people with spare fortresses. Or we could go to Kaiten. Introduce ourselves to the Viscount and, you know. Look around.
[ For his siblings, now that By's head from Nadine. ]
I wouldn't tell them anything at all, for starters.
But if I were for some reason obligated to say something, I might write a note along the lines of 'Very minor magical talent, wholly unremarkable.' You cannot say 'Magical talent, unspecified'! The reader will imagine all sorts of dramatic things! And when it goes in combination with what you have already written and sent of me—that I'm highly clever and have a keen eye for design—
[Are those the words he'd used? Close enough.]
—then I will seem highly formidable indeed. I can't imagine your masters are in the business of letting formidable persons simply do as they please. Particularly not once the war has ended.
But if I were for some reason obligated to say something, I might write a note along the lines of 'Very minor magical talent, wholly unremarkable.' You cannot say 'Magical talent, unspecified'! The reader will imagine all sorts of dramatic things! And when it goes in combination with what you have already written and sent of me—that I'm highly clever and have a keen eye for design—
[Are those the words he'd used? Close enough.]
—then I will seem highly formidable indeed. I can't imagine your masters are in the business of letting formidable persons simply do as they please. Particularly not once the war has ended.
[ A light protest - ]
My good madame, I think you perhaps do not understand Ferelden's priorities. They do not concern themselves overmuch with questions of magic per se. They would be anxious about you if you were passionately allied with the Orlesian nationalist expansionist cause. But simply being formidable, without any additional motivation involved, is not enough to trigger their paranoia.
My good madame, I think you perhaps do not understand Ferelden's priorities. They do not concern themselves overmuch with questions of magic per se. They would be anxious about you if you were passionately allied with the Orlesian nationalist expansionist cause. But simply being formidable, without any additional motivation involved, is not enough to trigger their paranoia.
[ Revenge—is it revenge? Maybe it’s more defense. Holding down a fort that’s Bastien’s by rights. Whichever it is, it comes at a delay. Bastien can rhyme off the cuff, but achieving sincerity without sliding into jokes out of embarrassment and habit—that takes effort. And revisions. Several. And once it’s done, he delays more, until he’s off on Riftwatch business outside of Kirkwall, and even more specifically until the morning hours when he can usually rely on By to be asleep. ]
Do not let anyone else hear this.
[ His voice is hushed, avoiding being overheard by his hosts, and stays hushed when he begins singing in Orlesian, accompanied by lute plucking so discreet it is more like a hint of music than the real thing. The song is Orlesian in structure and melody, but it steals from Monsieur Presley (vis-a-vis Stark) the direct address, the frank and aching simplicity of feeling, and it adds—by Orlesian standards—a little bit more indecency. Quand je souffle mes bougies je te sens dans la fumée, that sort of thing.
It isn’t long. When it’s over, Bastien pauses for a few seconds, clears his throat, and says, ]
Now that better be the horniest thing you have ever heard.
[ He doesn’t expect an answer. He timed it to avoid one. ]
I love you, mon chevrier. Have a good day.
Do not let anyone else hear this.
[ His voice is hushed, avoiding being overheard by his hosts, and stays hushed when he begins singing in Orlesian, accompanied by lute plucking so discreet it is more like a hint of music than the real thing. The song is Orlesian in structure and melody, but it steals from Monsieur Presley (vis-a-vis Stark) the direct address, the frank and aching simplicity of feeling, and it adds—by Orlesian standards—a little bit more indecency. Quand je souffle mes bougies je te sens dans la fumée, that sort of thing.
It isn’t long. When it’s over, Bastien pauses for a few seconds, clears his throat, and says, ]
Now that better be the horniest thing you have ever heard.
[ He doesn’t expect an answer. He timed it to avoid one. ]
I love you, mon chevrier. Have a good day.
[ There isn't any spoken response to this. No recording. Nothing. Bastien might be made to feel self-conscious by the silence, save that the intimacy between them is great enough that he's quite unlikely to think that it comes from judgment.
The response, instead, comes on paper. It is left in his room when he gets back. And it is a portrait, specifically of Bastien, done in pencil. And what is most telling of all about what this gesture signifies: it is amateurish. Unpolished, unprofessional - not something done because there's some hidden talent here bursting to get out, but just as a simple act of unselfconscious love. A contrast to Byerly's normal shame, his reluctance to share the more earnest and awkward parts of himself. Just simple love and trust. ]
The response, instead, comes on paper. It is left in his room when he gets back. And it is a portrait, specifically of Bastien, done in pencil. And what is most telling of all about what this gesture signifies: it is amateurish. Unpolished, unprofessional - not something done because there's some hidden talent here bursting to get out, but just as a simple act of unselfconscious love. A contrast to Byerly's normal shame, his reluctance to share the more earnest and awkward parts of himself. Just simple love and trust. ]
[ Despite the simplicity, Bastien spends as long looking at it as he would a gallery painting. Soaking in the earnestness of the gesture, basking in the obvious love and attention in the inexpertly rendered details.
He doesn't say anything in response, either. Not immediately, and never really much. Later, when he's half-asleep in the tangle of Byerly's spindly limbs, he'll murmur I missed your face, too, and leave it at that. But weeks or months or years from now, when he's been asked to fetch something from a drawer or is helping pack for relocation or aiding in the search for something Bastien's misplaced, Byerly will come across the drawing again, protected between clean pages of a book chosen solely for its adequate size, with an added coat of wax and resin to preserve it. And not by Bastien, who doesn't know the first thing about doing that. He had to take it to one of their art friends, awkward and proud and pleased and slightly horrified by the first hint of smudging on the drawing, and ask them to help. ]
He doesn't say anything in response, either. Not immediately, and never really much. Later, when he's half-asleep in the tangle of Byerly's spindly limbs, he'll murmur I missed your face, too, and leave it at that. But weeks or months or years from now, when he's been asked to fetch something from a drawer or is helping pack for relocation or aiding in the search for something Bastien's misplaced, Byerly will come across the drawing again, protected between clean pages of a book chosen solely for its adequate size, with an added coat of wax and resin to preserve it. And not by Bastien, who doesn't know the first thing about doing that. He had to take it to one of their art friends, awkward and proud and pleased and slightly horrified by the first hint of smudging on the drawing, and ask them to help. ]
crystal. backdated end of last/beginning of this month???
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indissection
2022-09-06 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Sidony doesn't sound.... Sad, exactly, but she does sound less chirpy than she usually is to be messaging her dearest spouse. Definitely trying to hide just how desolate she really is. ]
Darling, I don't suppose you have a spare evening and a glass of wine or two, do you?
Darling, I don't suppose you have a spare evening and a glass of wine or two, do you?
Only if it would truly be no bother. I know you are terribly busy these days.
I suppose you could have, yes.
[It doesn't sound particularly grateful; rather, it is exactly as prim and sniffing as Byerly's justification had been petty. Someone (not her!) might suggest the phrase 'two of a kind.' Presumably that someone would also find themselves being vigorously shouted down.]
Now we will both just have to make due with the truth. In any case, I suppose it will make little difference in the immediate future.
[It doesn't sound particularly grateful; rather, it is exactly as prim and sniffing as Byerly's justification had been petty. Someone (not her!) might suggest the phrase 'two of a kind.' Presumably that someone would also find themselves being vigorously shouted down.]
Now we will both just have to make due with the truth. In any case, I suppose it will make little difference in the immediate future.
The social order will not be under threat, then. I am on my way.
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