[If Fitcher takes note of the shifting temperature in the air, it shows not at all in her bearing. Instead, she devotes herself to turning the slip of paper over - checking first the blank side of the page and then plucking it up again to hold it up to the light.]
Months is preferable to years. Did she say where they were working or under what guise they had originally written? —Given the context of the note, I think we might safely assume they recieved this letter shortly before Felix's arrival here. Where did you find her?
[Here, she looks at him again. And pauses, as if only in this moment recognizing something in his face.]
Come now, Marcus. A woman is allowed her barbs when a strange man appears under the pretense of telling her what to do.
helps, as if her noticing his displeasure is motivation enough to raise tighter defenses, something slithering into retreat behind a mildly neutral expression, points of tension loosened. Later, he won't like that either, habits slipping and reapplied, but for now— ]
We hadn't the luxury of a proper conversation.
[ —he glides by this last thing, speaking in bland terms. ]
But she and her daughter were being escorted from Wildervale, and we caught up near the Nevarran border. They were originally of Ferelden, but I know not how long ago. Catrin mentioned they'd been operating out of northern territories, but she was reticent to say much more.
Perhaps you might consider taking it up again. I find it a fine way to get to know one's compatriots. Might I keep this? [She drums her fingers near, though not over for it is delicate enough to warrant careful handling, the page.]
It would be helpful to have it on hand for comparison.
No hesitation, but he does feel an odd reluctance, which is in itself not hard to divine from the stiffness of his posture. Perhaps it would have been there had this conversation had gone without a hitch—but the hitch didn't help. ]
I've handed you an intensive task, [ he says. ] You may consider me at your disposal to see it completed and thoroughly.
[The flicking once over she gives what she can see of him from behind her writing desk suggestions she hasn't yet formed an opinion on exactly what having him in such a position is worth. He makes for rather prickly company, does he not?
That there is something arch, some trace of humor, in that examination may or may not be appreciated but it is there. This is, after all, a kind of comedy of errors. Fitcher tips her attention back to the battered page.]
[ With recollection comes something of a withdrawing. Less the intent stare back at flicking once overs, attention instead lowering to the surface of the desk between them.
He adds, ]
She had her daughter with her. Arrangements were made, and I know not what they were, nor did the Templars escorting them both. Livia.
[Something in that draws her attention - a flicker like surprise catching at the very edge of her expression. It's a flat, quiet thing. It's possible he sees it not at all, given that the desk has become so interesting.]
Poor child.
[It is one of those stock expressions of sympathies - words trimmed from a pamphlet, or printed in a press, an echo of something someone somewhere has said so many times that the shape of it is trite. It is not unfeeling, it is just uncreative.
(These rote things are the easiest to say when you are surprised by information and some twinge of regret both. Collateral damage should be upsetting as a guiding principle.)]
Given all that is on the table I would hesitate to make inquiries with the Chantry to divine either of their locations for further interview, but if no alternative reveals itself then we--as an organization, I mean--might consider it. But I'll see what can be rooted out from the Gallows' records first.
[ Hard to say if it's missed or not, drawing his attention up to see how the news is received and snagging on that trite marching out of pity. Probably, there's nothing to see anymore, and she can probably sense and see his search of her.
If he comes away with anything, it doesn't show. ]
Aye, [ he agrees, the word delivered sedately, before his tone adopts again a strident pace. ] My concern for her wellbeing aside, I'm concerned more for the state of things that brought about this mess. If she and Felix were lied to, how that lie began, how we've missed their reaching to us.
I was speaking more to the possibility that she or her mother would be able to give us additional information if they were at their leisure to do so. But--
[Fitcher tips her head in place of a shrug. Considerations for later, should it be necessary.]
Should there be anything on record to help you see that we're not responsible for anything near to this a second time, you may trust that I'll find it for you.
[That delicate scrap of paper is carefully removed from the slanted section of the writing desk and placed instead into the slim topmost drawer where it will be safe from the half finished work which remains before her.]
Should you find yourself at loose ends in the mean time, I do have a weekly card game you would be welcome at.
[ At the very least, it seems the import and intent of his request has made it over the line, at least partways. If there is more he could wring out of it, he doesn't see a way to do it in this conversation. He sits straighter as she takes the letter and stows it away, tracking it with a predictable interest, like a plate of stew over the head of an attentive hound.
And then back to her in time for the invitation at cards. His expression does nothing. ]
I'll bear that in mind, [ he says, then nods, a courteous gesture, and stands, hand smoothing down his coat. ] I'll leave you then to your tasks. My thanks.
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no subject
Months is preferable to years. Did she say where they were working or under what guise they had originally written? —Given the context of the note, I think we might safely assume they recieved this letter shortly before Felix's arrival here. Where did you find her?
[Here, she looks at him again. And pauses, as if only in this moment recognizing something in his face.]
Come now, Marcus. A woman is allowed her barbs when a strange man appears under the pretense of telling her what to do.
no subject
helps, as if her noticing his displeasure is motivation enough to raise tighter defenses, something slithering into retreat behind a mildly neutral expression, points of tension loosened. Later, he won't like that either, habits slipping and reapplied, but for now— ]
We hadn't the luxury of a proper conversation.
[ —he glides by this last thing, speaking in bland terms. ]
But she and her daughter were being escorted from Wildervale, and we caught up near the Nevarran border. They were originally of Ferelden, but I know not how long ago. Catrin mentioned they'd been operating out of northern territories, but she was reticent to say much more.
no subject
That is a better starting point than the whole wide world, I suppose. Let us assume the Marches and everything north and east from them.
You are not much for cards, I take it?
no subject
We played cards in the Circle, [ he says. ] When permitted.
[ His tone stays even, although his accent hits the consonants a little harder than most. Like certain words are bitten when spoken.
His eyebrows lift. ]
I was alright.
no subject
It would be helpful to have it on hand for comparison.
no subject
No hesitation, but he does feel an odd reluctance, which is in itself not hard to divine from the stiffness of his posture. Perhaps it would have been there had this conversation had gone without a hitch—but the hitch didn't help. ]
I've handed you an intensive task, [ he says. ] You may consider me at your disposal to see it completed and thoroughly.
no subject
That there is something arch, some trace of humor, in that examination may or may not be appreciated but it is there. This is, after all, a kind of comedy of errors. Fitcher tips her attention back to the battered page.]
And Catrin? What became of her?
no subject
[ With recollection comes something of a withdrawing. Less the intent stare back at flicking once overs, attention instead lowering to the surface of the desk between them.
He adds, ]
She had her daughter with her. Arrangements were made, and I know not what they were, nor did the Templars escorting them both. Livia.
no subject
Poor child.
[It is one of those stock expressions of sympathies - words trimmed from a pamphlet, or printed in a press, an echo of something someone somewhere has said so many times that the shape of it is trite. It is not unfeeling, it is just uncreative.
(These rote things are the easiest to say when you are surprised by information and some twinge of regret both. Collateral damage should be upsetting as a guiding principle.)]
Given all that is on the table I would hesitate to make inquiries with the Chantry to divine either of their locations for further interview, but if no alternative reveals itself then we--as an organization, I mean--might consider it. But I'll see what can be rooted out from the Gallows' records first.
no subject
If he comes away with anything, it doesn't show. ]
Aye, [ he agrees, the word delivered sedately, before his tone adopts again a strident pace. ] My concern for her wellbeing aside, I'm concerned more for the state of things that brought about this mess. If she and Felix were lied to, how that lie began, how we've missed their reaching to us.
no subject
[Fitcher tips her head in place of a shrug. Considerations for later, should it be necessary.]
Should there be anything on record to help you see that we're not responsible for anything near to this a second time, you may trust that I'll find it for you.
[That delicate scrap of paper is carefully removed from the slanted section of the writing desk and placed instead into the slim topmost drawer where it will be safe from the half finished work which remains before her.]
Should you find yourself at loose ends in the mean time, I do have a weekly card game you would be welcome at.
no subject
And then back to her in time for the invitation at cards. His expression does nothing. ]
I'll bear that in mind, [ he says, then nods, a courteous gesture, and stands, hand smoothing down his coat. ] I'll leave you then to your tasks. My thanks.
no subject
It was good to meet you properly, Enchanter.
[It's important in this business to sometimes make contact with one's objects of study, after all.]