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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[altusimperius]

[Perhaps the stiffness in itself is what makes Benedict believe him; it's a moment of bareness, with no amusement, no trace of irony.

And Benedict has learned the hard way that, sometimes, when Byerly says things, he means them.]

I want that. ...for you.

[His response is halting and careful as it has been all the while-- honesty is difficult for Benedict too, in his way. Trust and vulnerability can be misinterpreted, warped, used, the consequences landing on his shoulders.]

I'll help, if I can. If... um. If you tell me how.

[His mouth is dry; this is no offer to write a strongly-worded letter. The foundation of trust have been laid, and he is placing a brick, to see what Byerly will do it.]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly doesn't kick that brick over, nor pick it up and hurl it - nor, indeed, does he even comment upon it. Instead, he simply shrugs. ]

If I ever gain the wisdom to know how anyone can help, I shall let you in on the secret. You have my word.

[ Then, a dry little laugh - ] Maker, I'd give anything to have someone wise telling me what to do.

[altusimperius]

[The laugh merits a faint smile, Bene watching his face.]

I'll let you know if I meet a good candidate.

[bouchonne]

Ah, but that's part of the problem.

[ He does meet Benedict's eyes now, smile droll. ]

Anyone who seems to be a good candidate is probably a rotten son-of-a-bitch.

[altusimperius]

[The smile is returned.]

Then they belong in this office, I should think.

[bouchonne]

They deserve either the Gallows or the gallows. It's true.

[altusimperius]

Maybe both.

...but I hope not.

[bouchonne]

No, I don't fancy an execution, either. I don't think it's unlikely, mind you, but I don't fancy it.

[altusimperius]

It’s not unlikely? Why would you be executed?

[bouchonne]

Why, I lead a very high-risk lifestyle, you know.

[altusimperius]

Risk of being punched, maybe, but executed?

[He is verging on actually concerned.]

[bouchonne]

[ Ah. Byerly holds up a hand - ]

Not because of anything I do in this line of work, lad. Don't worry. You're not at any higher risk than anyone else in Riftwatch.

[altusimperius]

No, it’s—

[Not that that wasn’t a concern, he’s hardly turned the corner to full altruist. How boring that would be.
But Byerly’s phrasing gives him pause.]

...you have another line of work?

[bouchonne]

You think I was able to stay at the cutting edge of fashion without one?

[ His smile is wry and crooked. Well, why the hell not? It's a day for honesty with the boy, it seems. ]

I'm a spy for the Fereldan government. Duties somewhat lightened right now, given the demands of my current role, but still active. I came to Riftwatch to report on them and their movements for the Queen. And before you ask, yes, there is a detailed set of notes on you sitting in an office in Denerim.

[altusimperius]

[Benedict opens his mouth.

He closes it again.

He looks away, staring into the middle distance for a good long moment, and then, having reached some kind of conclusion, looks back.]

...do the other division heads know?

[bouchonne]

Of course.

[ An easy shrug, as if the question were more along the lines of do they know that you have an allergy to nuts rather than do they know you're a spy. ]

But it's not a widely-known fact outside that circle. I know that you're likely talking about me day and night, so I wouldn't blame you if you were itching to tell this news to others, but keep it relatively contained.

[ Then, less broadly: ]

You see, perhaps, why I have a certain sympathy towards those with a complicated relationship with their homeland. [ Such as, for example, good old Benedict. ]

[altusimperius]

I— of course. I won’t.

[Its another brick set, whether Byerly knows it or not, and Benedict isn’t about to disturb it.]

...and I do.

[He pauses, contemplating how best to phrase his question.]

Was it a role you chose?

[bouchonne]

If you're asking whether I spent my life dreaming of becoming a spy, training for the role - no. But if you're asking whether I was coerced into it in some way, or whether I decided to join of my own free will, I did swear the oath because I wanted to. [ A droll smile. ] For better and for worse, the Fereldan intelligence forces are no Antivan Crows.

[altusimperius]

[Benedict rests his chin in his hand, watching Byerly with a newfound curiosity.]

Does the Fereldan crown have anything against Riftwatch? I mean-- it's not like being a double agent. Is it?

[Like it would be for him, for instance, if he should have ever succeeded in spying for Tevinter.]

[bouchonne]

Quite the opposite.

[ He shakes his head. ]

Our interests are not always completely aligned, but close enough; we're pulling in the same direction. At least until the end of the war. If that were to ever cease being the case, I'd resign my position.

[altusimperius]

Huh.

[He leans back in his chair, processing this knowledge.]

Which position? Diplomacy, or spying?

[bouchonne]

Diplomacy.

[ He answers that at once. ]

I'm good at spying. And it was my first oath.

[altusimperius]

Ambassador's a pretty high position for someone who's no good at diplomacy.

[bouchonne]

We're a pretty ragged organization.

[altusimperius]

....fair.