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A more than fair recompense, ( whether he'd actually asked for it to be on her dime or not. come on. anyway, it's on grampa's dime. and: ) He could do with it. And he'll actually come if he thinks he's being helpful.
( tricking stoic men into doing things that are good for them 101. )
( tricking stoic men into doing things that are good for them 101. )
Astrid got me thinking on it... hobbies, and all. Dunno how much he's really got outside work.
[ another thirty years of that looks longer than ten ]
And I know he and Gela get on. Can rustle up cards or something. What's your book on?
[ another thirty years of that looks longer than ten ]
And I know he and Gela get on. Can rustle up cards or something. What's your book on?
( is being sad a hobby, )
It's a collection of poetry in the authors' original Nevarran; I've read a few of them in Orlesian translation, but never in the original. And not all of the pieces, obviously.
I don't know how interesting that is to any of you, but I'm sure we can find something he'd take an interest in. ( maybe needlepoint is necessary to help stephen assess how well he's avoided cognitive decline by detoxing off lyrium, and it's actually prescriptive, )
It's a collection of poetry in the authors' original Nevarran; I've read a few of them in Orlesian translation, but never in the original. And not all of the pieces, obviously.
I don't know how interesting that is to any of you, but I'm sure we can find something he'd take an interest in. ( maybe needlepoint is necessary to help stephen assess how well he's avoided cognitive decline by detoxing off lyrium, and it's actually prescriptive, )
Yes.
[ simple, unequivocal. he's gamed it out before. ]
[ simple, unequivocal. he's gamed it out before. ]
[ someday, in the days following their encounter at the baths and ness' crystal address and all she's working on to become accustomed to thedas—someday in the aftermath of all that, cedric will return to his tent and find a small folded scrap of fabric pinned, along with a note, to the tent flap. the scrap of fabric, a match to the shift he so unceremoniously caught ness in that night if he looked closely at either, unfolds into a handkerchief. it may have been perfectly square when the fabric was cut, but the stitches around the edges aren't quite even, warping it somewhat, and the blue monogrammed c. c. in the lower left edge isn't the smoothest—these are the stitches of someone familiar with first principles of sewing and embroidery, but little practice in their finer applications. the note, by contrast, is written in a practiced, beautiful hand: ]
Mssr. Carsus,
I wanted to thank you for the kindness you showed me that night at the baths. It would have been all too easy for you to shower me with recriminations, to treat me with fear and distrust, and if you had it would have been deserved: It was irresponsible of me not to have said anything to anyone about my magic when I first became aware of it, I know that now and I knew that then. I was afraid and alone in a new world, and could not think of what else to do but hide, but that doesn't excuse my actions.
You did not treat me with the distrust I was due, though. You were kind, and you sat with me, and because of you I now begin to understand what I am capable of, and most importantly, how to keep the people around me safe from it. I cannot thank you enough for that. This token doesn't begin to approach the magnitude of that gift you gave me, but I offer it all the same, with my most sincere gratitude.
I hadn't met a templar before you, at least not one that I knew was a templar. If they're all like you, I'm glad they're here, just as I am glad you were there for me that night.
With deepest thanks,
Ennaris Tavane
It was different, (she agrees, still fidgeting but with less fervor than before as she starts to calm down. Talking about it helps, it always does. Why does she forget this until after she's picked the skin around her nails, bitten the insides of her cheeks?) It — threw me off, that's all.
(It felt like an argument, something she tries to avoid, but she couldn't sit by and listen to him say those things about her friends. Gwënaelle, too, came under fire; it was uncomfortable.)
Thank you Cedric. (She smiles somewhat jerkily and gathers her hair behind her neck as if to tie it off, though she has nothing to hand.) I promise I didn't come here to find you and say all of this. I was walking, and you were — thought I'd come to see if you are alright, too. Are you?
(It felt like an argument, something she tries to avoid, but she couldn't sit by and listen to him say those things about her friends. Gwënaelle, too, came under fire; it was uncomfortable.)
Thank you Cedric. (She smiles somewhat jerkily and gathers her hair behind her neck as if to tie it off, though she has nothing to hand.) I promise I didn't come here to find you and say all of this. I was walking, and you were — thought I'd come to see if you are alright, too. Are you?
Chantry's given me a lot,
[ a home. an education. a small fortune in room and board and training and lyrium. every horse he's ridden, sword he's swung. some day they'll pull the head from his shoulders, and it's the chantry who'll sew his lips and sleep him in a tomb.
we've been given so much, and, ]
More'n anything, 's given me purpose. Chance t'be a part of something greater.
[ a home. an education. a small fortune in room and board and training and lyrium. every horse he's ridden, sword he's swung. some day they'll pull the head from his shoulders, and it's the chantry who'll sew his lips and sleep him in a tomb.
we've been given so much, and, ]
More'n anything, 's given me purpose. Chance t'be a part of something greater.
And the Circles, the Inquisition, Riftwatch. We all got a duty t'help.
[ he tracks the final swoop of pen; nods. sets to wiping slate, folding away the old draft. someone'll want it. nothing confidential on. ]
Can't no one do it alone.
[ he tracks the final swoop of pen; nods. sets to wiping slate, folding away the old draft. someone'll want it. nothing confidential on. ]
Can't no one do it alone.
Mm.
[ He takes a moment to look over the page. Or - well. He takes a moment to look like he's looking it over, while he in fact thinks about something else altogether. ]
I was Chantry-educated, myself. Our family had nothing, so I'd make the trek down to the village to join the children of the freemen at their studies. I cannot say that I was a diligent student - you'll be shocked to hear it - but I owe to them the fact that I learned to read and write, and do basic sums. Skills that served me well enough when I struck out on my own.
[ He takes a moment to look over the page. Or - well. He takes a moment to look like he's looking it over, while he in fact thinks about something else altogether. ]
I was Chantry-educated, myself. Our family had nothing, so I'd make the trek down to the village to join the children of the freemen at their studies. I cannot say that I was a diligent student - you'll be shocked to hear it - but I owe to them the fact that I learned to read and write, and do basic sums. Skills that served me well enough when I struck out on my own.
Never had much a head for art, but just means borrowing yours. [ to hear how it matters ] He might surprise you, anyway. Chant’s all verse.
And I am gonna find us a ball for the griffons. Just gotta figure out how t’keep them from eating it.
[ clarisse’ll sign off, there’s a chance she could win. ]
And I am gonna find us a ball for the griffons. Just gotta figure out how t’keep them from eating it.
[ clarisse’ll sign off, there’s a chance she could win. ]
[ our family had nothing, comes a surprise, not quite swallowed by the pinch of his brow. maybe it oughtn’t. plenty of money came through the monastery; impossible to imagine back then, that some kid delivered by carriage might lack.
but he's heard them talk on it, talk around it: the thorny shape of a familiar hunger. and now benedict, he supposes. byerly. ]
Learned child's a blessing, [ upon his parents, that verse goes. upon his parents and the maker, ] For anyone's got letters t'post.
[ cedric levels a glance. the joke's an exit ramp, if rutyer wants it. but after this elliptical interrogation, means something that he's given of his own. ]
When was that?
but he's heard them talk on it, talk around it: the thorny shape of a familiar hunger. and now benedict, he supposes. byerly. ]
Learned child's a blessing, [ upon his parents, that verse goes. upon his parents and the maker, ] For anyone's got letters t'post.
[ cedric levels a glance. the joke's an exit ramp, if rutyer wants it. but after this elliptical interrogation, means something that he's given of his own. ]
When was that?
Edited 2024-07-25 06:24 (UTC)
Yeah, [ He fumbles at the gauntlet, works a tie free to pull mail and glove from sweaty palm, knuckles lined faint for pressure. Leather twists between fingertip, ] Just helps, y'know. Doing something with your hands.
[ I'm frustrated, He’s starting to say. Rutyer wants to come 'round tomorrow, and there's something on with him, and if he calls me dear again I won't be held liable,
and then
She’s pulling her hair up, and he’s shifting to match. Breath puffs, only half a laugh – holding the cord – ]
Here, [ Steel creaks, ruddy-gold with reflected heat. Sunset soon. It’s his bare hand that reaches for her, gentle in rough skin; old callus. ] Let me.
[ I'm frustrated, He’s starting to say. Rutyer wants to come 'round tomorrow, and there's something on with him, and if he calls me dear again I won't be held liable,
and then
She’s pulling her hair up, and he’s shifting to match. Breath puffs, only half a laugh – holding the cord – ]
Here, [ Steel creaks, ruddy-gold with reflected heat. Sunset soon. It’s his bare hand that reaches for her, gentle in rough skin; old callus. ] Let me.
Edited 2024-07-25 07:05 (UTC)
Hah.
[ That's a real laugh - not loud, not long, just an appreciative chuckle at a well-constructed joke.
But he doesn't take the exit ramp. Instead: ]
When I was about seventeen. Or a few days shy of it. I, in my infinite wisdom - and not a bit of reckless fury - decided that I could make my way in the world with nothing but an extra pair of socks and my patchy autumn coat and my fiddle. It was in Firstfall, but it was an unseasonably warm day, and in my ignorance it never even occurred to me, say, things might get colder tomorrow.
I spent the first night on the road sleeping under a bridge and woke up with numb fingers. Couldn't warm my hands all day, which interfered with my clever plan to trade music for a ride in a haycart towards Denerim. But my eyes still worked. And along came a merchant who had a stack of correspondence he'd picked up in town but no time to read it yet. And so I didn't earn my way as a fiddler, but instead a learned factotum.
[ He smiles wryly down at the pages before him. ]
Life does rhyme, at times.
[ That's a real laugh - not loud, not long, just an appreciative chuckle at a well-constructed joke.
But he doesn't take the exit ramp. Instead: ]
When I was about seventeen. Or a few days shy of it. I, in my infinite wisdom - and not a bit of reckless fury - decided that I could make my way in the world with nothing but an extra pair of socks and my patchy autumn coat and my fiddle. It was in Firstfall, but it was an unseasonably warm day, and in my ignorance it never even occurred to me, say, things might get colder tomorrow.
I spent the first night on the road sleeping under a bridge and woke up with numb fingers. Couldn't warm my hands all day, which interfered with my clever plan to trade music for a ride in a haycart towards Denerim. But my eyes still worked. And along came a merchant who had a stack of correspondence he'd picked up in town but no time to read it yet. And so I didn't earn my way as a fiddler, but instead a learned factotum.
[ He smiles wryly down at the pages before him. ]
Life does rhyme, at times.
[ pinch pulls to crinkle, along the side of his mouth. rueful for tomorrow. yeah, they both remember what it was to be clarisse, to be twenty. remember, too, being seventeen. stupid. brave. ]
You still play?
[ it might get colder tomorrow. but it could warm, too. gotta be bold to believe it: that a better day could be. ]
You still play?
[ it might get colder tomorrow. but it could warm, too. gotta be bold to believe it: that a better day could be. ]
(Gela makes a noise in agreement, a little ascending hum in her throat and looks when the sun glints off his gauntlet, flashing a bit of orange light onto the post she was hanging off of moments before. When he offers and extends his hand she smiles properly, warmth a bloom in her chest. An unexpected kindness; she turns for him, so he can see what he's doing better.
From this angle, hair drawn back, the ear with a notch missing from it (the left one) is more plain.)
Thank you.
(This is throwing her off, too, albeit in a much nicer way.)
From this angle, hair drawn back, the ear with a notch missing from it (the left one) is more plain.)
Thank you.
(This is throwing her off, too, albeit in a much nicer way.)
[ he turns the cloth overhand, examines the seams. stitches inexpert as his own mended elbows. there is a well of,
something, there, ill-named. easier to consider the sense of it: a dozen textures of memory, rough and soft and steady and thin. the picked gold wire of vestments. the thick stains of dye. the sweat-drenched pad between gauntlet, palm; gambeson, heart.
it's a few days before the letter is returned. his own doesn't flow so pretty, blocks of clear, efficient print: ]
Miss Tavane,
Thank you for the letter, and the kind words. Told you I was grateful for your trust, and I meant it; takes guts to face that.
Back when they taught us on spirits, it was like this: Spirits are one thing, simple. People are different – you can’t hold half a feeling. Can't be peaceful unless you've been angry, can't be sad unless you've seen joy. So it follows, right, that you can't be brave unless you've been scared.
You've been plenty brave.
Had an old lieutenant kept a marble, the kind kids play for. Used to roll it in her hand before battle. After. We were on a hill one day, when I caught her holding it to sky, squinting through the glass. She let me try, and it sent everything bubbling strange; blue. Said it gave her a different perspective. New way to see.
[ the other half. wrapped within page: a small thing, irregular; some fraction of green bottle salvaged from rocky shore. the sea glass frosts, semi-translucent. smooth under thumb. ]
Reckon you’ve had no shortage of new. Maybe, some day, that'll look more like home.
— Cedric
[ She turns, and he works the cord into place; metal bracing defter finger. A bang slips free, and his hand brushes neck. Warmth, skin for skin, and Cedric draws back. Slight. Apologetic. ]
Y'look, [ A breath in. Heady on tea and summer jasmine, and the leaf tangled stubborn into curl. She looks exactly how she always does. She looks, ] Beautiful.
[ It's the wrong time to say it. Always the wrong time, but worse now: Half-armored, a forceful thing, and behind him all the evidence of war. Of a frightful purpose. Gela doesn't often pass the yard, didn't fight; has never spied his sword bloody. His palms.
Unsafe.
But his hand is empty. But his face, throat are bared. But there's that notch in her ear; the scars that his eyes have traced time and again in silent question, and just now he is so tired of smallness. What's the point of a shield, if it only shelters you?
He reaches for the leaf. Soft, ]
Is that alright?
Y'look, [ A breath in. Heady on tea and summer jasmine, and the leaf tangled stubborn into curl. She looks exactly how she always does. She looks, ] Beautiful.
[ It's the wrong time to say it. Always the wrong time, but worse now: Half-armored, a forceful thing, and behind him all the evidence of war. Of a frightful purpose. Gela doesn't often pass the yard, didn't fight; has never spied his sword bloody. His palms.
Unsafe.
But his hand is empty. But his face, throat are bared. But there's that notch in her ear; the scars that his eyes have traced time and again in silent question, and just now he is so tired of smallness. What's the point of a shield, if it only shelters you?
He reaches for the leaf. Soft, ]
Is that alright?
Edited 2024-08-05 08:18 (UTC)
(That slight brush of fingers on her neck, she finds the skin being rougher than she thought it would be — they're working hands, ones that hold the shield up and bring the sword down — works a little shudder out of her, but she doesn't laugh. There's no nervousness; she isn't ticklish. She turns her head slightly but still can't see him, only sense the suggestion of him standing behind with hands together to gather her hair up so gently.
Sort of dreamlike.
Gela smiles.) Calling me beautiful, or doing my hair?
(Warm, easy teasing. She likes this part of it so much, the gentle flirting before anything really happens. It always feels familiar to her.) Both are very alright.
Sort of dreamlike.
Gela smiles.) Calling me beautiful, or doing my hair?
(Warm, easy teasing. She likes this part of it so much, the gentle flirting before anything really happens. It always feels familiar to her.) Both are very alright.
[ Something slips loose, smile melting into the space between them — Maker, there is so much space between them — the fence she'd swung upon improbably steady. A few feet of wood posts might make the Imperial Highway. Gazing between freckle, mole, freckle; he confesses, ]
Thank god. Needed to say that for weeks.
[ Stubby nails lift to the space where jaw meets throat, tucking a black strand behind ear. ]
Everyone oughta tell you all the time. Just shines out of you. Maybe that’s cheap, [ His hand pulls free, palm coming to rest between the crest of her shoulders. ] But it’s true.
Thank god. Needed to say that for weeks.
[ Stubby nails lift to the space where jaw meets throat, tucking a black strand behind ear. ]
Everyone oughta tell you all the time. Just shines out of you. Maybe that’s cheap, [ His hand pulls free, palm coming to rest between the crest of her shoulders. ] But it’s true.
Did you? (She wants to touch him now that he's said that but thinks of him in his plate, walled off save for his hands, his face. That's okay. It will be nice to take his hands, but only once he's finished stroking his thumb across her pulse, and it's not like she doesn't enjoy the meticulousness with which he makes sure every strand is drawn back into the collection at the nape of her neck.
Wisely,) The only reason I shouldn't be told so often is that I'll end up walking around like I own the place.
(But on a more sincere note, tone softening accordingly,) Thank you. (Been a while since Gela felt beautiful — or even at all desirable. They all saw her struggle through recovery for months; Clarisse even purportedly watched the demon melt its copy of Gela's face completely off, so—
His palm on her back steadies her body's sway.) Your hands are so warm, (she comments. From the exercise?) They're nice.
Wisely,) The only reason I shouldn't be told so often is that I'll end up walking around like I own the place.
(But on a more sincere note, tone softening accordingly,) Thank you. (Been a while since Gela felt beautiful — or even at all desirable. They all saw her struggle through recovery for months; Clarisse even purportedly watched the demon melt its copy of Gela's face completely off, so—
His palm on her back steadies her body's sway.) Your hands are so warm, (she comments. From the exercise?) They're nice.
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