[ Hm. By purses his lips a bit, his face thoughtful. ]
I would wholeheartedly embrace a poll of some sort. [ He reflects for the span of a heartbeat, then says - ] Part of the issue is that I truly don't know what might please them, aside from freedom now, freedom forever. Which is not in my power to grant. Maker, if there were something I could grant, something that was truly meaningful to them, I'd give it to them fast as I could.
[ There's sincerity in his voice. A good part of his frustration, truly, comes out of wanting to be kind and wanting to do right by these people but having no real way to do so. ]
[ Bastien does hate to be the cynic, in any given situation, but here they are. ]
You know what you have done and what you have chosen not to stand in the way of, but you've explained it, [ publicly, via crystal, ] and it hasn't been enough. They're unhappy with the way you speak to them. About them. [ Like just now. ] I know you've been serious and sincere with them sometimes, but not consistently enough for them to trust it. And assuming they hear about the meeting, they're going to know that you proposed telling the Templars they could be in charge. If they are looking for the least charitable interpretation of what you do—rightly or wrongly—then offering whatever they want, all of a sudden, is going to look like ass-covering.
That doesn't make it worthless. The difference between ass-covering and sincerity is consistency, I think. [ Meaning it, again, is for children and Fereldans. ] But you'd have to be prepared to be gracious if they are still unhappy with you, and to keep following up on it regardless.
[ Cynical warning delivered, he takes a quick drink and makes a pitch instead: ]
Queen Anora was sympathetic, non? Before they brought in the Tevinters to Redcliffe. Maybe now that the woman who made that bargain is gone, [ sorry Fiona, ] there would be room for a conversation. You could find out. See if the mages are interested and arrange a meeting for them with someone from her administration if they are. I heard she was interested in establishing a university in Ferelden, before all of this chaos, and the mages have all of those well-educated elders and books gathering dust right now. Maybe there is something there that could benefit them all.
[ It's a good idea. Good enough that he's not completely deflated by that cynicism. Just partially. ]
I can certainly reach out to my spymaster, who might bring it to Her Majesty. [ Grimacing: ] Ideally in a way that this doesn't sound like please fix Rutyer's fuck-up.
[ He considers Byerly over the toes of his propped-up shoes. It's a calculating look, but after a moment it softens. Relenting. ]
I think we have a start.
[ Only a start. And a great deal depends on Byerly's ability to hear out everyone who might wish to lecture him, even if the content of those lectures diverges from what they've predicted here, without snapping his teeth or claiming not to understand the point of an apology.
But Bastien's hit the comfortable limit of his own ability to sit here and be an impassive hardass at his boyfriend. (Not the outer limit; he could do it forever, if the situation required.) ]
[Benedict gives a half-shrug and a little smirk that seems to say 'don't worry about it' as he makes his way out of the office, to take some air and make some coffee.]
[ When Benedict is gone, Byerly looks to Bastien, not entirely certain what to expect. He hasn't seen this side of him much, and even more rarely directed at him. Will he have sharper words, with Benedict out of the room? Will he say different things? Will it be forgotten? It's hard to say. By has certainly gotten better at reading Bastien, but when the man goes full Bard, it's beyond his abilities. ]
[ Bastien does not give him much to work with. He's somehow more casual than a few minutes before, when he was slouching and his feet were on the desk; his energy is different, and he smiles a little, drinks his water. Takes his time waiting for Benedict to be fully out of earshot to say, ]
He's a good kid.
[ He's an adult, is what he is, but never mind that. ]
He's been working hard for us without incident for a long time. He has other friends now. He's not in danger—not more than any of us. He cares about you.
[ Byerly has no words for how horrifying this prospect is. So he simply scowls, and fishes a bit of lemon out of his water, and hucks that lemon straight at Bastien's face. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stung** dangit
I don’t know, exactly. All their answers would be somewhat different, and I haven’t been privy to most of the deeper conversations.
[He hunches his shoulders slightly.]
We could conduct a poll. Anonymously, of course.
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I would wholeheartedly embrace a poll of some sort. [ He reflects for the span of a heartbeat, then says - ] Part of the issue is that I truly don't know what might please them, aside from freedom now, freedom forever. Which is not in my power to grant. Maker, if there were something I could grant, something that was truly meaningful to them, I'd give it to them fast as I could.
[ There's sincerity in his voice. A good part of his frustration, truly, comes out of wanting to be kind and wanting to do right by these people but having no real way to do so. ]
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I’ll have a draft for you at the end of the day, then.
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[ Bastien does hate to be the cynic, in any given situation, but here they are. ]
You know what you have done and what you have chosen not to stand in the way of, but you've explained it, [ publicly, via crystal, ] and it hasn't been enough. They're unhappy with the way you speak to them. About them. [ Like just now. ] I know you've been serious and sincere with them sometimes, but not consistently enough for them to trust it. And assuming they hear about the meeting, they're going to know that you proposed telling the Templars they could be in charge. If they are looking for the least charitable interpretation of what you do—rightly or wrongly—then offering whatever they want, all of a sudden, is going to look like ass-covering.
That doesn't make it worthless. The difference between ass-covering and sincerity is consistency, I think. [ Meaning it, again, is for children and Fereldans. ] But you'd have to be prepared to be gracious if they are still unhappy with you, and to keep following up on it regardless.
[ Cynical warning delivered, he takes a quick drink and makes a pitch instead: ]
Queen Anora was sympathetic, non? Before they brought in the Tevinters to Redcliffe. Maybe now that the woman who made that bargain is gone, [ sorry Fiona, ] there would be room for a conversation. You could find out. See if the mages are interested and arrange a meeting for them with someone from her administration if they are. I heard she was interested in establishing a university in Ferelden, before all of this chaos, and the mages have all of those well-educated elders and books gathering dust right now. Maybe there is something there that could benefit them all.
And their own ideas, of course.
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I can certainly reach out to my spymaster, who might bring it to Her Majesty. [ Grimacing: ] Ideally in a way that this doesn't sound like please fix Rutyer's fuck-up.
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[ He considers Byerly over the toes of his propped-up shoes. It's a calculating look, but after a moment it softens. Relenting. ]
I think we have a start.
[ Only a start. And a great deal depends on Byerly's ability to hear out everyone who might wish to lecture him, even if the content of those lectures diverges from what they've predicted here, without snapping his teeth or claiming not to understand the point of an apology.
But Bastien's hit the comfortable limit of his own ability to sit here and be an impassive hardass at his boyfriend. (Not the outer limit; he could do it forever, if the situation required.) ]
Maybe we take a break?
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Sure.
[ And then, with difficult sincerity - ]
Thank you. For - trying.
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I'm sorry we haven't gotten to the reports yet, Benedict. We'll come back to them.
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[Benedict leans over to set the folio on Byerly’s desk, stretches his arms, and rises. He can take a hint.]
Coffee for anyone?
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[ With a little bit of a sigh - ]
Thank you. And - [ Ugh. ] My apologies for being prickly. Earlier.
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Which requires no shit-crawling.
He doesn't give him a look about it, focused on his water cup for the moment, but he does faintly smile. ]
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He's a good kid.
[ He's an adult, is what he is, but never mind that. ]
He cares about you.
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[ It's not (intentionally) cruel or dismissive. It comes from a real, rather melancholy belief. ]
I can afford him some protection for the moment. He wants to preserve that.
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He's been working hard for us without incident for a long time. He has other friends now. He's not in danger—not more than any of us. He cares about you.
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I - would prefer, I think, if it were using me, instead. If you're right, then it'll make it worse still when I fail him.
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[ Anyone else, he'd have feigned defaulting to papa. ]
You—you know, that's between you and him.
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What's between me and him?
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Whether he calls you dad.
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[ Byerly has no words for how horrifying this prospect is. So he simply scowls, and fishes a bit of lemon out of his water, and hucks that lemon straight at Bastien's face. ]
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But he doesn’t laugh, and once he’s peeled the lemon off and dropped it into his own cup, the grin goes away. ]
They are going to be harder on you than I was.
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I know.
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