[ Bastien keeps hold of Byerly's hand, wrist resting on his knee, and nods. ]
Still shitty. All of it is.
[ He has a distant memory of the dragons attacking the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux when he was twelve—distant in both time and physical space, he wasn't there. (Though he did tell people that was how his mother died, for a while.) A more recent one of rioters and locked gates and fires scattered through the city. Both of those together can't be a fraction of what the Blight was like in Denerim. ]
It doesn't seem fair for all of these problems to be so big and magical, when so many of us are only—
[ There's no good word for non-magical, so he shrugs and trusts Byerly to get it. ]
Not all we can do. We cannot discount the power of your eyelashes. If we can get you close enough to bat them at Corypheus, who knows what might happen?
Of course. I mean, not all of the time. But one bad mage could do so much more harm than one bad man with a knife, you know?
[ He sits up straight again. ]
And sometimes I am worried that they will hold the world hostage. Why wouldn't they? They are being asked to fight against the people who would give them more power.
And if they have the rifters in their corner, they have nearly all the anchors among them. Even if we could win without their magic, we need those. I’m not sure the Chantry—
[ Templars? Whoever made that call; Bastien doesn’t know. ]
He didn’t say anything—not about Circles and the rifters, and not when the way some people spoke to Byerly had him narrowing his eyes at the crystal. He’s not the kind of protective that entails rushing in to defend an adult man who’s handling himself just fine. He’s the kind that entails remembering. ]
He seems like the sort of fellow who likes kicking ant piles.
Which I don't blame him for. Or particularly dislike him for, to be quite honest. I've rather a lot of hive-dirt on my own feet.
[ He drapes an arm over Bastien's leg. ]
What was interesting was watching how the ants swarmed. Especially how they swarmed on me. Petrana de Ceydoux - This was before our time, but she was removed from being head of Diplomacy. I'd assumed she'd quit, but when she came in and primly instructed me on how to do diplomacy, which apparently consists solely of giggling and speaking sweetly - contain your surprise, I nearly jumped out of my skin learning there was but a single type of diplomacy that can be done, it's so much simpler than I thought - I looked up what led to her departure. Turns out she was the one who handed over information that led to the mages striking.
[ A tap on his knee - ]
Don't rat me out, now, handing over sensitive information to you.
[ Bastien grins and echoes the tap with a knee bounce. ]
I will use it to start an Orlesian strike. No more work from us until we are allowed to paint the fortress sunrise orange.
[ It goes without saying, he assumes, that he would never rat Byerly out to anyone. ]
So she would have been on their side before the rifters were tied to them. I suppose that makes sense—selflessness, or guessing it was inevitable. Either way.
[ Mild, and mostly rhetorical. Neither of them were here at the time of the negotiations to know who was and was not sleeping together. But the room Madame de Cedoux shares with the two enchanters is obvious enough now.
He lets go of By's hand, finally, but only to fuss with his hair instead. ]
I did find it strange how eager people seemed to be cross with you—I mean, you have to forgive people for thinking you might be trying to cause trouble sometimes when you aren't. You have made a reputation for yourself. But I wouldn't think don't panic, it's complicated, it might not happen would be so controversial.
I'm not sure, truthfully. I haven't charted her affairs.
[ Which might sound sarcastic, if it wasn't coming from Byerly, who actually does note down the romantic entanglements of important people. ]
And I rather felt the same. I do wish people would recognize when I'm being malicious. I'm really quite good at it. It's a point of pride for me that everyone knows when I'm trying to offend them - I don't do it by accident.
[ It's serious—and he has picked up on Byerly being genuinely bothered, and he won't be letting that go—but a quick, grinning interlude: ]
Maybe you should use very different voices. A hello, I am here to be a problem voice, [ Bastien says, with no attempt at a Fereldan accent but a purring sort of relish, ] and a hello, I am here to solve a problem voice, [ in a much milder and reasonable tone. ]
[ Bastien laughs and has to repeat that to himself, Whyerly and Tryerly, because it's so great. Two breaths to swallow the laugh back in, and he's more serious again. Not completely serious, still smiling and faintly tickled, but more. ]
Maybe it was because—they are afraid, you know. I would be afraid. And none of the people who think it is right for them to go into Circles were piping up to say so, and there you were, the non-magical outsider.
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Still shitty. All of it is.
[ He has a distant memory of the dragons attacking the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux when he was twelve—distant in both time and physical space, he wasn't there. (Though he did tell people that was how his mother died, for a while.) A more recent one of rioters and locked gates and fires scattered through the city. Both of those together can't be a fraction of what the Blight was like in Denerim. ]
It doesn't seem fair for all of these problems to be so big and magical, when so many of us are only—
[ There's no good word for non-magical, so he shrugs and trusts Byerly to get it. ]
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[ By smiles a little, sadly, and rests his chin on Bastien's other knee. ]
All we can do is - possibly - stab a thing. And even then, not terribly well.
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Not all we can do. We cannot discount the power of your eyelashes. If we can get you close enough to bat them at Corypheus, who knows what might happen?
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To say nothing of your flattering tongue. We just need you to stand on the battlefield and shower him with kindness.
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Emerging into the world after a thousand years, with everything and everyone he knew gone… Maybe what he really needs is someone to understand him.
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[ He laughs back. ]
He's just lonely. He needs someone to tell him that his rippling abs are just so glorious.
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Brilliant. I will write it down, and we can present it to the other division heads.
[ He won't and they can't. He wouldn't enjoy making Yseult that miserable. ]
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[ But - ]
Are you afraid of our sweet mages?
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Of course. I mean, not all of the time. But one bad mage could do so much more harm than one bad man with a knife, you know?
[ He sits up straight again. ]
And sometimes I am worried that they will hold the world hostage. Why wouldn't they? They are being asked to fight against the people who would give them more power.
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Yes. And the way they rumble amongst themselves - It really wouldn't be hard for them to lean on us. Make Riftwatch a new front of the mage rebellion.
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[ Templars? Whoever made that call; Bastien doesn’t know. ]
—thought that one through.
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[ By pulls a face that's half troubled, half irritated. ]
You heard Kostos Averesch the other day, I suspect? Hard not to, of course. He makes quite a lot of noise for a rather soft-spoken man.
it burrrrns it burrrnnns
[ Bastard, adds his tone.
He didn’t say anything—not about Circles and the rifters, and not when the way some people spoke to Byerly had him narrowing his eyes at the crystal. He’s not the kind of protective that entails rushing in to defend an adult man who’s handling himself just fine. He’s the kind that entails remembering. ]
He seems like the sort of fellow who likes kicking ant piles.
hee hee hee suffer
Which I don't blame him for. Or particularly dislike him for, to be quite honest. I've rather a lot of hive-dirt on my own feet.
[ He drapes an arm over Bastien's leg. ]
What was interesting was watching how the ants swarmed. Especially how they swarmed on me. Petrana de Ceydoux - This was before our time, but she was removed from being head of Diplomacy. I'd assumed she'd quit, but when she came in and primly instructed me on how to do diplomacy, which apparently consists solely of giggling and speaking sweetly - contain your surprise, I nearly jumped out of my skin learning there was but a single type of diplomacy that can be done, it's so much simpler than I thought - I looked up what led to her departure. Turns out she was the one who handed over information that led to the mages striking.
[ A tap on his knee - ]
Don't rat me out, now, handing over sensitive information to you.
:’C
I will use it to start an Orlesian strike. No more work from us until we are allowed to paint the fortress sunrise orange.
[ It goes without saying, he assumes, that he would never rat Byerly out to anyone. ]
So she would have been on their side before the rifters were tied to them. I suppose that makes sense—selflessness, or guessing it was inevitable. Either way.
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[ A shrug. ]
Or she was fucking a mage.
[ A little more acid than is Byerly's wont lately. It's clear, despite his smile, that Petrana pissed him right the fuck off. ]
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[ Mild, and mostly rhetorical. Neither of them were here at the time of the negotiations to know who was and was not sleeping together. But the room Madame de Cedoux shares with the two enchanters is obvious enough now.
He lets go of By's hand, finally, but only to fuss with his hair instead. ]
I did find it strange how eager people seemed to be cross with you—I mean, you have to forgive people for thinking you might be trying to cause trouble sometimes when you aren't. You have made a reputation for yourself. But I wouldn't think don't panic, it's complicated, it might not happen would be so controversial.
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[ Which might sound sarcastic, if it wasn't coming from Byerly, who actually does note down the romantic entanglements of important people. ]
And I rather felt the same. I do wish people would recognize when I'm being malicious. I'm really quite good at it. It's a point of pride for me that everyone knows when I'm trying to offend them - I don't do it by accident.
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Maybe you should use very different voices. A hello, I am here to be a problem voice, [ Bastien says, with no attempt at a Fereldan accent but a purring sort of relish, ] and a hello, I am here to solve a problem voice, [ in a much milder and reasonable tone. ]
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And I could adopt a different name for each persona. Whyerly and Tryerly.
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Maybe it was because—they are afraid, you know. I would be afraid. And none of the people who think it is right for them to go into Circles were piping up to say so, and there you were, the non-magical outsider.
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Are you worried they will do more than talk?
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