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]

[His smirk growing, Benedict leaves with the coffee bag and returns a short while later with a steaming, aromatic pot of it.

Picking Byerly's cup up off the desk, he fills it for him.]

[bouchonne]

[ By's already deep in his work by then, frowning over a missive from a Nevarran lordling with a crease between his brows. ]

Cheers.

[ - is his thanks when Benedict pours. ]

[altusimperius]

[Benedict raises the pot in acknowledgment, then goes to set it on a corner of his desk where he has placed a small warming glyph set apart from his other work.

Sliding into his chair with a small sigh, and taking a moment to rub his eyes, he gets back to it.

At least one hour passes peacefully, albeit with the occasional yawn. After going through an especially long and ponderous document, Benedict sets it down and stretches out his arms.]

Feels nice to have both eyes.

[And his hair, which he runs both hands through to pull it away from his face, tying it back.]

[bouchonne]

I agree.

[ By murmurs and signs a paper. ]

Are you ever going to stop preening?

[altusimperius]

...no.

[The pause comes from a moment of thought: will he ever stop preening? Not after what he's been through.]

I have to make sure it's still here.

[bouchonne]

Look to your maternal grandfather.

[altusimperius]

[Bene thinks on it a moment, then sighs with relief.]

Thank the Maker.

[He runs his hand through his hair again.]

[bouchonne]

He had a full head?

[altusimperius]

Longer than mine. There's a portrait of him in Mother's study.

[A pause, and his smirk dwindles like a candle snuffed out by a cold wind. He has remembered something.]

[bouchonne]

[ Hm. ]

What's that face?

[altusimperius]

Mother's study.

[A slow, creeping horror begins to take over his face, which he keeps fixed firmly forward.]

That room.

[He pushes his hair back out of his face.]

It's real.

[bouchonne]

[ He narrows his eyes slightly. ]

What, where she kept those prisoners?

[altusimperius]

[Benedict nods, turning to him at last.]

I-- when I was little, I heard a strange sound come from her study. There was a crack in the wall. With light beyond it.

[He shakes his head, blinking, as if he can't quite believe he was reminded of this.]


I went to look through, but Micaela pulled me away. I never saw it again.

[A pause.]

I wasn't even allowed in her study, most of the time.

[bouchonne]

[ He blinks. There's a hint of horror that enters his face. ]

How long has - I thought this was some development. That she was emboldened by Corypheus' victory.

[altusimperius]

[Bene's mouth has gone dry. He shakes his head, and is near-paralyzed by the helplessness of their slowly dawning, shared realization: there are probably people in there right now.]

That was, [he reaches for the memory,] ...at least... seventeen, eighteen years ago.

[bouchonne]

You're certain.

[ Byerly's voice is low. ]

You have to be certain.

[altusimperius]

I'm,

[Is he certain? If he turns out to be wrong, if it's just residual from the dream, will he be accused of treason again?]

It's a memory, [he hedges.]

There's a door in the wall, in her study. Maybe it's-- maybe it's for something else.

[He is not convinced.]

[bouchonne]

[ A breath out. A hand, briefly, over his eyes. ]

We can - possibly divert agents to investigate. It would be dangerous, though. And our assets are few enough in number as it is.

[altusimperius]

[Bene nods, his throat tight and his stomach roiling. He stares at his desk.]

I'll help. However I can.

[It's not like he's going to be allowed anywhere near Minrathous again, although if the dream was any indication, he might be the perfect bait.
Either way, it won't be his choice.]