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]

[ A lift of his shoulders, and he repeats: ]

Dying makes a man re-assess his priorities.

[ He realizes how true it is as he says it. Maybe he'd started this conversation daydreaming as usual, but it's become more real with every word. He knows it from the feeling in his heart. Every time in the past when he's even considered this, he's felt a twist of remorse for entertaining the thoughts. But now, today, that's gone. Perhaps it was Bastien's tears did it. A magic tincture that dissipated the curse of duty. (Or at least weakened it.) ]

And you're more precious than pride. Or even than honor.

[cozen]

[ Bastien’s eyes acquire a gleam—the gleam of a man who’s been offered a fortune. ]

I don’t want you to do it for me, [ he says, which is not at all the same as not wanting By to do it, ] and then regret it.

[ However. If they’re really talking about it. ]

But we could be just as useful. More useful. We could do a little less work, yeah, but the work we did could be what we’re better at. The connections you’ve made and the plans that you have with Flint, they would not go away. But we could go meet people where they are. No desks. You can still work on what you’ve wanted to accomplish.

And people will not think you were fired, [ he circles back to, ] because you are not being fired. We aren’t a big enough organization for people to get things that wrong. Some people might be relieved or might see it as an opportunity to have one of their own in the seat, but so what? Even if it someone we disagree with—they have disagreed with us this whole time, and the work still got done.

It’s been four years. Almost the entire time Riftwatch has existed. We needed someone to do it, and you did it, and it is alright to let someone else worry about it for a while.

[ So much for not trying to talk him into it. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly's wry smile shows quite clearly that he's thinking the exact same thing. But he doesn't call his beloved out on that, because it's sweet. And because he wants to be talked into it. ]

I wouldn't be doing it for you.

[ It does feel important to assuage that worry. Even if it's not entirely true. It's at least a little bit for him. ]

I would be doing it for myself. To hold onto you, if nothing else. You must be getting so bored, and a bit of travel would spice that up and keep your eye on me, eh?

[ That is, for what it's worth, a total joke. Of Byerly's many insecurities, he doesn't actually worry about losing Bastien's heart. (He doesn't even obliquely worry that Bastien is faking this relationship as part of a Bardly mission any longer. That's actually totally gone.) ]

[cozen]

[ Bastien wrinkles his nose at how ridiculous that is—first of all, he gets to travel far more than Byerly does as it is. Second of all, Bastien hardly left central Orlais in 35 years.

But, ]

See the world while it’s still here.

[ He puts his hand in By’s hair, fingers stroking behind his ear. ]

Work abroad—we both do our best work with time to settle in, I think. We spend a few weeks with someone in Antiva, someone in Wycome, do some listening and some prying, make friends, not be so formal. We could do more that way. We’d be a good team.

[ Bastien could have been doing it that way all this time, if he’d been willing to spend half his time away from Byerly. ]

[bouchonne]

The crystals make it easy.

[ He leans his head into Bastien's fingertips. ]

Instantaneous reports. Not at the speed of a raven's wingbeats - at the speed of speech.

[cozen]

[ Instant communication. What a world. Bastien nods. ]

And when we are here, we can stay in Lowtown. There are those apartments on the docks if we want to be cheap about it. Then no more leaving right when things are getting good to try to catch the ferry. We would only have to come to the Gallows to work sometimes.

[bouchonne]

And to torment Artemaeus.

[ Fondly: ]

I'd bully him into getting coffee for us. He wouldn't be able to say no.

[ The humor fades a moment as he admits: ]

That's another thing, too. I'd worried that he wouldn't be safe if he weren't under my protection. But even in my absence, he was fine.

[cozen]

Ouais. It has been a long time. He has other friends. No one will kill him for being a Tevinter traitor anymore.

[ Wait for it. ]

Maybe for being a helpless nuisance—as a crime of passion, you know. But no executions.

[bouchonne]

Hah.

[ Fond as he is of Artemaeus, Byerly has to admit that's not an unlikely outcome. But also not one that By could or would protect him from.

Then: ]

Have you forgiven him?

[ Since Byerly might have been oblivious to that initial coldness, when he first arrived, but he's certainly become aware of it since - even if he does not fully know the root of it. ]

[cozen]

[ Bastien shrugs. ]

I’m sure it isn’t his fault. It’s just how he is.

[ Because deciding someone’s faults are inherent to their being and not something to forgive them for, only something to account for and work around for the rest of their lives, is completely different from holding a grudge. ]

[bouchonne]

So -

[ Really, Bastien. ]

That sounds like a no.

[cozen]

You don't forgive a cloud for raining, [ with as much airy dignity as he can muster while still puffy-eyed and red-nosed from sobbing into Byerly's neck. ] You learn to carry a parasol.

[ But he abandons the pretense, shortly, and collapses back against By's shoulder like his strings have been cut. ]

They announced you were gone, and I was—

[ He does not really want to put himself back there. ]

—sitting on the floor trying to–

He wanted me to give him directions. And when he caught me leaving, it was just, you know, don't go, Byerly wants you to interim division head. He said so in his letter. And when I said no he blew the wheels off my cart with magic.

[bouchonne]

[ For what it's worth, Byerly also feels a surge of anger. Bastien was sitting on the floor? And Benedict didn't recognize that for the crisis it was? Maker, if Byerly found Bastien sitting on the floor, then he'd climb down beside him and hold him and - Well, do much what he's doing right now, in short, which is the prerogative of a lover, and maybe he shouldn't be angry with the boy for not knowing how to treat his inscrutable beloved.

But. He tries to be fair. ]

That sounds like I deserve your anger, then. For not putting anything more than that in the letter. [ A beat - ] The magic thing was asinine, though.

[cozen]

[ A nod. For both things. He was angry with Byerly; they've talked about it. By said he was sorry. It's alright now. ]

I wouldn't expect—it is not as though we are friends, he and I.

[ They haven't spoken about much except work and Byerly in years. If not for Byerly as a connecting line between them, giving Benedict a reason to remember who he is, he wouldn't be shocked if Benedict still thought his name was Bertrand. ]

And I know he was grieving, too. It was only a very bad time for someone to be needy and demanding at me.

[bouchonne]

[ He was grieving. What a strange and uncomfortable thought. And what a lovely one. To have anyone take heed of his death - improbable. To have multiple people not just notice, but mourn - It seems impossible. He shouldn't get any ounce of pleasure from it. But - He does.

No matter. ]

The lad is -

[ Well. ]

Well, he's an absolute fuck-up, but - in a way I understand rather intimately. He's learning to be a person, is the thing. This might well have been his very first time grieving anyone or anything - or at least doing so in a way where he let anyone else see. Hardly surprising that he didn't know how to do it.

[ Byerly is careful to not allow his tone to suggest that there might be anything in that that Bastien might relate to. Sometimes, in a moment like this, turning your eye inward sparks more fury than empathy. And suggesting that a large part of Bastien's anger is actually directed at himself will likely be enraging indeed. ]

[cozen]

[ Bastien does not arrive at that conclusion. He only experiences an uncomfortable squiggly feeling and rubs his cheekbone into Byerly's shoulder like the discomfort is emanating from his cheek and he only needs to reposition it a bit. ]

So there is nothing to forgive,

[ sounds agreeable, but really it is only circling back to his original point. No forgiveness, only cataloging for future reference. ]

He'll be fine. [ That was the real original point. ] It's been years. He's been well-behaved and reasonably competent. I'm sure executing or imprisoning him would be more trouble than it is worth to anyone anymore.

[bouchonne]

[ By isn't entirely satisfied with that. But Bastien, Maker love him, is much like Whiskey when she's located a scent on the ground that she wants to investigate. She'll dig in all four heavy paws and will be impossible to move. The only way to get her to go the direction you intended is to wait until she's finished. ]

Yes. Even Flint seems to have mellowed a bit.

[cozen]

[ Flint. Mellowed. Odd concept. ]

Not too much, I hope. We need him in the sweet spot where he is not killing clerks but still terrifying to our enemies.

[bouchonne]

Maybe he’s getting old.

[ He purses his lips thoughtfully. ]

Older. He started out old.

[cozen]

Oh, he isn't old. If he is old then we only have ten or fifteen years before we are old, and I will not be ready then.

[ There's an hourglass running out, for how long Bastien will be distracted before wanting to know if By means it, if he's doing it, if this isn't all hypothetical—

But not yet. A few more seconds. ]

Maybe he has discovered the power of cooperation and amiability.

[bouchonne]

Perhaps he was so moved by the general heroic sacrifice that his chilly heart has thawed. Though perhaps that means he will become a beast now that the sacrifice has been undone, like when you get a refund at a shop.

[cozen]

In that case you might need to hide Benedict under the floor.

[ His stomach growls. They’d been getting that bread for a reason. But he ignores it. ]

I think you should sleep on it. At least for one night. Maybe a week of nights.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ Byerly presses his hand against that gurgling stomach. ]

You're hungry. Let me get you something.

[ The offer isn't a dodge, exactly. But Byerly doesn't quite want to promise. He might, after all, lose his nerve after a week of nights, sink back into his prior inertia.

He starts to extricate himself, to go back to the table to assemble a plate for Bastien. ]

[cozen]

[ He holds onto By for a moment, more teasing than actually trying to stop him, and then squirms around on the settee to stretch out and watch him work. His lovely narrow hips, his shoulders, his hands. The beloved fall of a few renegade pieces of hair across his forehead.

It wasn’t a dodge, exactly. ]

I want you to have everything. That’s all. If you want it. I don’t want you to ever give anything up for me—except the drinking.

[ He smiles. He’s still grateful. ]

But if it’s for you, if it’s for Riftwatch, if it’s for the world. If you’re sure.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ He's quiet a moment as he cuts and serves. ]

It's all right. To want me to give things up for you. You can ask that of me.

[ He casts a glance over to Bastien. It's a cautious look, because he doesn't want to spook him. Something like this feels like a demand. And isn't that strange? How it's a little selfish to ask Bastien to be selfish. So many other people are perfectly willing to take, after all - but desires are so foreign to Bastien, that it's uncomfortable and even a little threatening to ask him to act on his. ]

I love you just as much when you're difficult as I do when you're easy.