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]

[ Rifter food, then. Well, it smells nice enough. About as far from the plain fare that Riftwatch usually subsists on as one might get. ]

One of these days, you're going to get apprehended and hanged for decadence.

[highborn]

Gods, but I hope so. What a crime to go out for.

[ He gestures for Byerly to take a seat on one of the two cushions laid out, and leans to begin serving the two bowls. First the rice, white and long grained, then the main dish on top of that — what look like meatballs swimming in a thick orange sauce, smelling of cumin and coriander.

As he does: ] And how have you been, then? Doing well after — all that, I hope?

[bouchonne]

Ah, 'twas but a dream.

[ By smiles easily, and shrugs. ]

If a fellow can't cope with nightmares, he has no business going to war, eh? What about you?

[highborn]

[ He studies Byerly sidelong, looking for truth under the easy words. His own answer is a moment in coming, but ... well, better to project confidence for the conversation he has in mind, not honesty, he thinks. He smiles, and hopes his pause has not been too noticeable. ]

The dreams were distressing, but fleeting. Waking life is much more distracting, isn't it?

[bouchonne]

You sounded like you had to think about it for a moment, there.

[highborn]

[ Caught. He's too polished this afternoon to wince, but does allow the smile to go a little subdued. ]

Mm, well. Something learned in the dreaming has cast a bit of a pall on a waking relationship of mine. But— [ He leans to place Byerly's bowl before him. ] That's nothing to darken this lovely day with, eat.

[bouchonne]

No, no.

[ By's fingers rest on the edge of his bowl, but he doesn't eat. Not yet. Holding his appetite hostage. ]

I shan't eat until you give me the hot gossip. Tell me.

[highborn]

[ Any lingering warmth dims from the lingering smile, and he turns his own eyes down onto his bowl. ]

You know I would love to share. Typically. This, I only mentioned because you rate higher than empty pleasantries.

[bouchonne]

[ How unsatisfying. But - very well. By sighs, and starts to eat. ]

Fine, then. What do you wish?

[highborn]

[ A slight tension leaves his shoulders, he sits more easily. ]

Besides your very pleasant company? And someone to share a meal with on a sunny afternoon? Is that not enough cause to summon you forth from that dingy little office?

[bouchonne]

[ An arched eyebrow. ]

Is that all?

[highborn]

No. I also wanted your opinion on a small matter. [ His smile is back again in a wry quirk. ] But that's nothing urgent, and could certainly wait until after lunch.

[bouchonne]

Go ahead.

[ He gives a small nod of encouragement. ]

Mix some business in with this pleasure.

[highborn]

[ Well, if By insists. Vanadi offers a one-shouldered shrug, and goes ahead. ]

I've been thinking I would spend a bit of time in Orlais. I'd like to actually see this world I find myself planted in — nothing against the Gallows or Kirkwall, but I'm fairly sure there's more out there than the little I've seen.

[bouchonne]

[ Hm. ]

And Orlais is what catches your fancy?

[highborn]

I've been told the upper class is largely terrible people best avoided. [ The smile grows slightly. ] It sounds like home.

[bouchonne]

Mm. [ He tilts his head slightly. ] Save that you've a disadvantage here that wasn't a disadvantage there. [ He tugs on his own ear in demonstration.

Also - ] This is delightful, by the by.

[highborn]

A bit of spice never steered anyone wrong in winter. [ That's with an appreciative dip of his head. ] But -- yes, with a disadvantage. And admittedly the summary I got included the suggestion never to visit. I found it difficult to believe it could be that bad.

[bouchonne]

[ His smile twists a little. ]

It's a place of great physical beauty. Lovely buildings.

[highborn]

[ He tips his head, brows arched. So maybe it is that bad, hmm. ]

I would love to hear your honest opinion.

[bouchonne]

[ He hesitates a moment, then lets out a breath. ]

Well, I am - half-Orlesian, true enough, but I think the Fereldan half is rather stronger. And Fereldans hate Orlesians by nature. But on the other hand, I do love an Orlesian or two. So.

[highborn]

I should say that's a preface for an opinion, not an opinion. [ That brow cocks just a little higher. ] So?

[bouchonne]

[ Another sigh, and a shrug. ]

As head of diplomacy: the Orlesian people are bold, steadfast, and generous. They are leading the charge against Corypheus, committing troops and resources, and working well with our people.

As a person: I've found little other than rejection from Orlais. Even being half-Orlesian. They take pleasure in seeing outsiders ground down and humiliated. No insult is too petty, no vengeance too small. What I said before is true: they are also courageous and unflinching, a people without whom this world would be doomed. But Maker help you at court.

[ A small shrug as he amends: ]

Note that these opinions are largely about the nobility. I've found the common classes to be far more hospitable.

[highborn]

[ He nods as he listens, looking thoughtful. Really, it does all match up with the city he'd called his home for a century. Mhavos had made things sound equally grave, but he finds himself still unconcerned. ]

So then -- I suppose that brings me to my next consideration, which is a good excuse to visit for a while. Say, a few months. I don't suppose you have any jobs you might need done over there?

[bouchonne]

[ An eyebrow. ]

I really sold you on it, did I?