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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[bouchonne]

Let me have the illusion.

[ But it's a joke. He doesn't mean it. He knows Bastien is right, and he nods as soon as he's said it, saying - ]

But - yes. I saw enough of my cousins punished for having progressive ideas when they were younger. The ones with the generous hearts were the ones most despised by our elders.

[cozen]

[ Bastien smiles a little, fond and regretful. He doesn't like to be the pessimist. He doesn't like to dismantle By's hope in anything, rare as it is.

(In the jungle, it was their late-night discussion of family that cracked Bastien's heart open, but it was By's bashful belief in a fundamentally decent world that let him waltz in through the crack with all of his bags and set up permanent residence.) ]

Like you?

[bouchonne]

Oh, no.

[ By shakes his head. His smile is warm, though - Bastien's belief that he's got the generous heart is lovely now. There was a time when it made Byerly feel bashful, a failure in waiting, but - somehow, he's come to have faith in himself. ]

It took me a long time to become political. I didn't even think to question all of it - the role of the noble, the role of the freeman - until I got to Denerim. Foolish, in retrospect, given that the freemen at the Chantry school regularly trounced me intellectually - that I knew that there was no mental difference between them and me. But when no one else questions the way the world works, you don't, either.

[cozen]

[ Bastien lets the urge to argue about the various definitions of a generous heart wash over and past him, because it isn't what they're talking about, and because Byerly is smiling. Not shifting awkwardly, not looking away. ]

What happened in Denerim? Meeting new people?

[ —he will return to the matter of Flint in a moment. ]

[bouchonne]

[ By nods. ]

Radicals. Students. People who asked why.

[cozen]

Scandalous.

[ He leans forward to fold his arms on the desk and rest his head atop them. ]

So what do you think? Would you tear it all down?

[bouchonne]

[ By reaches out to tap the tip of Bastien's nose with the end of his pen. And, as much curiosity as stalling: ]

Would you?

[cozen]

[ The nose-tap receives a broad, crinkly smile, before Bastien's face smooths out with thoughtfulness. ]

I don't know. It would depend on what is supposed to come after.

[ He grimaces to acknowledge how obvious that statement is, then elaborates: ]

I don't see a way to change things that much without people getting hurt. Not quickly, anyway. But that's not—you know, people are hurt now, too. People are hurt every day to keep the world we have. It is like what you said, about how we notice the bad in the world because it is unusual? I think it works the other way sometimes, too. We don't notice the pain we expect, because it seems normal.

So people getting hurt in a new way, for a new reason, to change things—I don't think that is the worst thing. But I would have to believe that what is coming after would be different. A world with less suffering, not the same suffering redistributed.

[bouchonne]

[ A thoughtful hum. Though - ]

Perhaps the same suffering redistributed would be worthwhile in and of itself. Not flipping things upside down, but - It feels like the rations of misery are very unevenly meted out. There's a promise just to distributing it better.

[ He wrinkles his nose as he says it. When did he become a revolutionary? It certainly happened by degrees. ]

[cozen]

[ Bastien begins smiling again at worthwhile, and by the end he's outright grinning, eyes bright. He fell in love with what he thought was a loyal royalist, and he could have been happy forever with exactly that, but: ]

You are being very sexy right now.

And you're probably right. Even if everyone had to be hungry sometimes, if no one was starving, that could still be worth it.

[bouchonne]

That's why.

[ He raps his knuckles on his desk. ]

That's why I've turned into such a radical. It's because you reward it by getting those bedroom eyes. I've been seduced into it. It's not my fault.

[ But he's grinning while he's saying it. No regrets, it seems. ]

But yes. Especially since - Well, you've seen those Orlesian feasts. They go far, far beyond simply staving off hunger.

[cozen]

[ Bastien laughs, but he also shakes his head. He's willing to take some blame, sure: for listening to and caring about what Byerly thinks and wants, for encouraging him to have some faith in himself, for helping to create space where he can pull his own heart out and examine it without so much fear. But that's all. ]

Far, far, far beyond. [ With a little sigh, ] And so delicious. But they would be just as delicious in smaller portions, for more people.

[bouchonne]

[ A hum of agreement. ]

Have you ever been at one of those feasts where they eat songbirds?

[cozen]

[ Bastien mixes a nod and a head-shake into an all-around wobble, chin digging into his arms. ]

Not when I was invited to the table.

[bouchonne]

It's absurd. The ceremony of it. Never mind the wastefulness - feeding those birds on the finest herbs and flowers before they're drowned in cognac - or the ridiculousness of eating something that's scarcely a mouthful - but it's just so pompous. I have a high tolerance for the ridiculous, being ridiculous myself, but it was all I could do not to roll my eyes. I wanted to be delighted by it, but I was just disgusted.

[cozen]

[ Bastien nods. The slightly-thirsty fondness of his gaze has only been a little dampened by this talk of drowning birds. ]

I love my people, but my country is the worst.

[bouchonne]

Oh, I don't think so.

[ He smiles at him. ]

It made you. A million monsters can't outweigh you.

[cozen]

Charmer.

[ Successfully so. Bastien's head tips sideways until one cheek is squashed into his arm, and he looks every bit like a smitten, daydreaming teenager, only with a mustache. ]

I've been wanting—with the project, you know—to focus on contacts in the lower rungs. The Queen and the Empress have their own eyes on the nobility. And everywhere else, I know, but I thought there might be people out there willing to work with us who would not be so happy to work with them. And if it means we can leave them with resources or new contacts of their own, after the war, that is a plus.

But it feels so small.

[bouchonne]

[ And By smiles at that look, just as starry-eyed himself. ]

I don't think so. Imagine what the Freeman of the Dales might have accomplished if we'd won them over in time - and convinced them to maintain their good intentions. They could have been a ferocious fighting force.

[cozen]

That's true.

[ It felt once in a lifetime, that effort—but perhaps not. It's hard to be pessimistic in these late, dreamy hours, especially with By looking at him that way. ]

Your job might get a lot harder, if we start causing more problems. Especially Flint. His problems seem like they would be big ones.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly hums with agreement. ]

And ah, the hypocrisy of it. Telling the mages that they're not to pursue their personal agendas, while I myself think to political structures. How many times have I said that winning the war is our highest priority?

[cozen]

It is.

[ Bastien peels himself off the desk and sits back in his chair. ]

It has to be. No one can build anything new out of ashes.

They piss me off, too, you know. They have all this power the rest of us can never have, and some of them make shows, at least, of being willing to leave the rest of Thedas to the wolves if they aren't promised everything they want, like they are the only people being asked to fight for a world that has hurt them. And then we are supposed to be rooting for a future where there is nothing and no one standing in the way of them doing whatever they want with that power? Or something—I don't know. I've never heard two of them agree on anything except some vague notion of freedom. But I—

I do like them. The ones here. I know they have suffered, and they know what it is like to be powerless. They would not turn around and do that to the rest of us, intentionally. But I'm not sure I trust their grandchildren.

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly's surprise fades to a smile as Bastien talks. Not that he should be smiling, perhaps, as Bastien says all this - it's all bloody grim, isn't it - but the fact that Bastien is willing to be so blunt, for him, is...Well, it's touching. Certainly marshmallow-worthy. And it just makes him feel less like he's shouting into a vast abyss.

But: serious issues. Serious talks. Don't just glow because Bastien is pissed off. ]

Aye. Particularly when we see what happens when magic is unchecked. It took the power of the Maker's Chosen to break Tevinter's hold over the world. When magical power is wed to earthly power, the whole world has ended up in chains.

[cozen]

[ Bastien catches that smile, at the end of his little speech, and scrunches his face up in a cheerful show of self-consciousness. It goes away quickly, though, in favor of nodding. ]

Exactly. And there has to be a way to balance things, but I don't know what it is. They don't seem to know, either. And in the meantime, if you do not fully endorse whichever of the six dozen possible futures one of them is imagining at the moment, and prioritize it over every other group of people we need to help us if we want to win this war, you're a bastard on the side of oppression.

[ He huffs, and cuts off his own run-on venting. ]

Maybe they will come back from Nevarra with something to work with.

[bouchonne]

Ha ha.

[ Dryly. Also: ]

If I'm found dead, by the way, the first suspect should absolutely be Matthias.