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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[untiltheyarent]

[She believes him.]

For all the culture and grandeur of my country, there are many who've died within its borders without ever seeing it.

[bouchonne]

Do you see it? Its grandeur? Or has it always been denied to you?

[untiltheyarent]

I auditioned for the opera ballet, when I first arrived. I was...

[Self-consciousness hits her, and her eyes lower.]

...foolish. Elves have been known to make it there, but a select few, who have been training under the masters their whole lives, brought up to do only that. I came from the countryside. I was a shepherdess with a bit of dance knowledge.

[The strand of hair has fallen forward, and she tucks it behind her ear again.]

My husband's brother painted the backdrops for the theatre near the alienage, and was able to secure us cheap seats there sometimes. I think that's the closest I've been to grandeur.

[This yields a fond smile, despite the bitterness of the conversation.]

[bouchonne]

[ And he smiles. Not pitying; just a little wry. ]

I'm half-Orlesian myself. From my mother. And yet when I came to Val Royeaux, looking for a home among people I thought would accept me more readily than the Fereldans had, all I saw was rejection. And I ought to have had every advantage - a man of noble birth, with cousins in the capital - but I was turned away.

[ A one-shouldered shrug. ]

Orlais is not a land that loves easily. I can only imagine the hell it put someone like you though.

[untiltheyarent]

[Pausing to drink her wine while Byerly speaks, Fifi watches him with quiet interest. She offers a commiserating nod as she sets her glass down, her posture unfaltering.]

Yet I love it still. My Jacques gave his life for it, and that... has to mean something.

[Or everything is pointless.]

[bouchonne]

[ He lifts his glass and says, with a sloppy good humor: ]

To taking a stand. It's the only thing worth living for.

[untiltheyarent]

[Her mouth curves upward slightly, and she does the same.]

To taking a stand.

[Once they've drunk, she lowers her glass again.]

I admit I'm surprised your family in Orlais wouldn't accept you. Are they on bad terms with your father's side?

[bouchonne]

Quite the opposite. They were on terms too good with my father's side.

[ Then, by way of explanation: ]

My father and I had...a parting of the ways, of sorts, when I was but a lad. They'd have faced some censure from the old man and the whole clan if they'd given me succor. So there was no advantage in taking in the flotsam that showed up on their doorstep, so they didn't.

[untiltheyarent]

I see.

[Her brow knits sympathetically.]

I'm sorry.

[bouchonne]

[ An indifferent, jaunty wave of his hand. ]

For the loss of a sour, miserly son-of-a-bitch in favor of a life of freedom? I'm not. Even if it would have been easier to find a bite to eat if I were still in the Rutyer good graces, I've never mourned the loss of them.

[ And then, with a little tilt of his head: ]

So did you earn a living as a spy? Or was it merely something you did recreationally?

[untiltheyarent]

[She actually laughs lightly at his forwardness, but seeing as that particular cat's already out of the bag, there's no sense in dancing around it.]

It's unique to my time with Riftwatch. Scoutmaster Beleth sent me to work in the house of the brothers Asgard, asking that I relate anything unusual to her. It took some time for me to realize what I was doing was spying.

[bouchonne]

[ That makes him laugh. Because - ]

That story feels rather familiar.

[ Anyway. ]

Do you like it?

[untiltheyarent]

[Fifi laughs in response, her face truly lighting up for the first time since they met, whether asleep or awake.]

Was it similar for you?

[She doesn't answer his other question yet.]

[bouchonne]

[ He presses a hand to his chest in mock-shock. ]

What are you accusing me of? Me? A spy? Don't you know how useless I am?

[untiltheyarent]

[Continuing to smile fondly, she tilts her head at him, raising her eyebrows in a look that says 'how stupid do you think I am'.]

[bouchonne]

[ He grins, and drops the act. ]

One of the useless rakes I was friends with, asking me to do little favors for him. Here and there. And then larger favors. Thank the Maker that he was pulling me into serving a virtuous master - I'd have detested myself if I found out that I'd been secretly working for - oh, I don't know - Tevinter or someone of the like.

[untiltheyarent]

Or Fen'Harel, [Fifi helpfully supplies.]

I consider myself fortunate that Beleth had my best interests at heart.

[bouchonne]

The prayer of a pawn. "May my chessmaster use me to benevolent ends."

[untiltheyarent]

[Chuckling, Fifi raises her glass again.]

To the pawns.

[bouchonne]

[ He toasts, and drinks. ]

What do you remember of Fen'Harel? What you did for him?

[untiltheyarent]

I don't recall that I'd even met him.

[She sips from her glass.]

I was being given documents by a third party, to have printed by Bastien. I couldn't...

[The barest wince.]

... I don't read, so although I knew they were propaganda of some kind, what they said was a mystery to me.

[bouchonne]

Hm.

[ He smooths down his mustache. ]

Likely, even if you could, you wouldn't be able to recall anyway. All the most useful details of those dreams seem to have slipped away.

[untiltheyarent]

Perhaps.

[Giving a little sigh, she settles back in her chair and looks into her glass.]

What I do recall is my conviction that it would make a difference. That a bit of risk for the right reasons could mean... change, if not for myself, then for those like me.

...which. I suppose, if I had remained in that life, as I did in the dream, I might feel more passionately about.

[bouchonne]

Not passionate about elven liberation in this life?

[untiltheyarent]

Not as passionate as I might be if I still lived in a brothel in the slums of Val Royeaux.