[If he hadn't already been en route to the diplomacy office with work materials, Benedict probably would've gone AWOL for the rest of the day-- but here he is, looking like he's about to crawl out of his skin, and he looks back at Byerly with a helpless expression.]
I don't know what to do.
[He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a breath.]
[He hesitates, perhaps afraid he’ll be seen as speaking against a department head in an organization within which he’s already on this ice. But still— use your words.]
...is angry that... Jone didn’t listen when I told her no. He said this is the last hour he’s wasting on me.
[Far from tattling on a disliked supervisor, Bene looks like he’s one breath from a blind panic.]
Does that mean— I go back down? If he’s dissatisfied, or— or does it mean—
[The metaphysical finger-across-throat gesture hangs in the air, it’s presence known even if he didn’t perform it.]
[ He sighs, and speaks with rare sincerity. Not that sincerity seems all that nice on Byerly - his voice is clipped and brusque, rather than kindly - but there's no teasing or irony or drollness when he says: ]
There is but one thing that can put you back into a cell: another betrayal. Flint's ill temper matters not one bit. I do not have the patience for squandering resources in the name of pettiness, nor does Yseult, nor Thranduil. And his hatred of Tevinter is not responsible for determining Riftwatch policies.
[ Irritably: ]
I suppose I'm to blame. I asked him to intervene with that brute of a woman.
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I don't know what to do.
[He opens his mouth, closes it again, takes a breath.]
I don't.... I don't know what to do.
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[ His tone is breezy. Only the angle of his eyebrow reveals some measure of concern. ]
What is the precise dilemma before you?
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[He hesitates, perhaps afraid he’ll be seen as speaking against a department head in an organization within which he’s already on this ice.
But still— use your words.]
...is angry that... Jone didn’t listen when I told her no. He said this is the last hour he’s wasting on me.
[Far from tattling on a disliked supervisor, Bene looks like he’s one breath from a blind panic.]
Does that mean— I go back down? If he’s dissatisfied, or— or does it mean—
[The metaphysical finger-across-throat gesture hangs in the air, it’s presence known even if he didn’t perform it.]
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[ By stares a moment, genuinely taken aback - then rolls his eyes grandly. Who knows whether that's a reassuring gesture or a devastating one. ]
Maker preserve me, that rampaging druffalo. [ Then - ] No. Flint's good opinion matters not at all when it comes to you.
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[This is not a new concern, only one reupped every time Flint becomes aware of him again, for some reason or another.]
I’m not saying you’re wrong, [and he picks his words carefully, painfully,] but I can’t go back down there. I can’t.
[His eyes are shining and desperate.]
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There is but one thing that can put you back into a cell: another betrayal. Flint's ill temper matters not one bit. I do not have the patience for squandering resources in the name of pettiness, nor does Yseult, nor Thranduil. And his hatred of Tevinter is not responsible for determining Riftwatch policies.
[ Irritably: ]
I suppose I'm to blame. I asked him to intervene with that brute of a woman.
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[Brusque though it may be, Bene finds reassurance in it. Finally, he begins to calm down, his heartbeat slowing and some color returning to his face.]
I do everything I can to stay out of his way.
[There’s gratitude in his face, but he’s trying to be circumspect about it, having already brought enough dramatics into the office.]
I don’t mind what Jone is trying to do. I... well, you know. [They've been over it already.] I’ll speak to her again. ...in a bit.
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It is our job to keep peace amongst the fractious personalities here. Even if Flint is acting as though you must solve this problem yourself.
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[He sighs out deeply, relieved.]
I suppose I can be useful now.
[A glance to the work on his desk.]
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Try not to spread that too widely, will you? I do have a reputation to uphold.
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I promise it won't eclipse news of the daily beatings.
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