[Her mugging in response is brief, but sincere—an upward tip of one such cheekbone, and a look that's all crooked smiles and waggling eyebrows.]
You would have been far too young for me. [Ha ha. But really the point she's driving at, if there is one, is:] I didn't make a habit of staying in any particular place, and people have short memories. I could have held right on to Tokar and avoided all these awkward questions. This is what I get for retiring to war.
[ At this point, the only point of being coy is to amuse himself. Or maybe she does mean the city, rather than the work. Maybe she desperately wants to hear about the music and the cafes and his favorite bakery. Again, probably. Maybe for a third or fourth time. ]
[ A new drawer. This document had better be worth it. ]
I did, before I came here. But this is better, aside from the existential threat and—you know. Kirkwall.
[ If Riftwatch were doing its routine work from anywhere less stormy and grey and imposingly oppressive in its architecture, it would reduce the number of things he has to complain about by at least 60%. ]
Kirkwall. Do you know, I've been here for two years and still get ill every time I cross the harbor.
[This to the tune of 'Behold, the many noble sacrifices she makes for you people.']
I think I must have. Only a little. Otherwise I'd have stuck with something much quieter. Proper clerking, maybe. Little me, holed up somewhere keeping the books. I'd make a very dashing accountant.
[ He pauses his search to look at her, propped by his elbow atop the files. ]
After the war, perhaps I will hire you—for my printing empire. [ Even if he wanted a printing empire, he would never have one, and he absolutely did not prior to joining the Inquisition. But for the fantasy: ] We can play normal life chicken. Whoever cracks first pays for our new weapons.
[Silas. Barrow, maybe? If he'd rooted around, though the idea of that man displaying any natural instinct toward curiosity seems unlikely. Maybe Byerly Rutyer had put his nose to the ground and gone sniffing like a good Fereldan. How any of them might have arrived at Tokar though—
(There is a knife she keeps in her boot for emergencies. This would be a highly inconvenient place in which to need it.)]
I wasn't aware either had even followed me out of Antiva.
[ A few more seconds of stalling. Who might she have told? Who does she trust? But she isn't going to say, so his attention shifts partway back to his files. ]
Maybe they hadn't.
[ This one looks promising. He lifts it up. ]
It was a magic ring. I know what that sounds like, but... Maker's honest truth. I think it must have come from the rifts. If we'd had the magic for this before, Yseult would have already acquired one.
[ A friendly behind-the-back jab about her Black Fox puzzle ring, which he wants more than any other inanimate object in the entire world. ]
Did you discovered any other interesting secret names among our colleagues, or am I unique? [A tip of the head, a waggish bat of the eyelashes.] Moreso.
You know Loxley, the rifter? [ A sacrificial lamb—goat?—whom neither of them is close to and whose past cannot haunt him here, if it's a haunting sort of past. ] His real name is Chivalry. Poor man.
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no subject
You would have been far too young for me. [Ha ha. But really the point she's driving at, if there is one, is:] I didn't make a habit of staying in any particular place, and people have short memories. I could have held right on to Tokar and avoided all these awkward questions. This is what I get for retiring to war.
[Sure. Why couldn't that be the truth?]
Do you miss it at all?
no subject
[ At this point, the only point of being coy is to amuse himself. Or maybe she does mean the city, rather than the work. Maybe she desperately wants to hear about the music and the cafes and his favorite bakery. Again, probably. Maybe for a third or fourth time. ]
no subject
Sure. 'Val Royeaux.'
[Are air quotes a thing in Thedas? They could be. Maybe they're in the dictionary of Bard hand signals.]
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No.
[ A new drawer. This document had better be worth it. ]
I did, before I came here. But this is better, aside from the existential threat and—you know. Kirkwall.
[ If Riftwatch were doing its routine work from anywhere less stormy and grey and imposingly oppressive in its architecture, it would reduce the number of things he has to complain about by at least 60%. ]
no subject
[This to the tune of 'Behold, the many noble sacrifices she makes for you people.']
I think I must have. Only a little. Otherwise I'd have stuck with something much quieter. Proper clerking, maybe. Little me, holed up somewhere keeping the books. I'd make a very dashing accountant.
no subject
[ He pauses his search to look at her, propped by his elbow atop the files. ]
After the war, perhaps I will hire you—for my printing empire. [ Even if he wanted a printing empire, he would never have one, and he absolutely did not prior to joining the Inquisition. But for the fantasy: ] We can play normal life chicken. Whoever cracks first pays for our new weapons.
no subject
[She closes her chosen drawer with a definitive rasp of the wood on its rails.]
Who told you, by the way?
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I'm sure there are only so many people who could have.
[ He'll tell the truth, maybe, probably. In a second. ]
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Remarkably few.
[Silas. Barrow, maybe? If he'd rooted around, though the idea of that man displaying any natural instinct toward curiosity seems unlikely. Maybe Byerly Rutyer had put his nose to the ground and gone sniffing like a good Fereldan. How any of them might have arrived at Tokar though—
(There is a knife she keeps in her boot for emergencies. This would be a highly inconvenient place in which to need it.)]
I wasn't aware either had even followed me out of Antiva.
no subject
Maybe they hadn't.
[ This one looks promising. He lifts it up. ]
It was a magic ring. I know what that sounds like, but... Maker's honest truth. I think it must have come from the rifts. If we'd had the magic for this before, Yseult would have already acquired one.
[ A friendly behind-the-back jab about her Black Fox puzzle ring, which he wants more than any other inanimate object in the entire world. ]
no subject
A magic ring from a rift. That sounds like a very poor plot for a very cheap play.
[He has resumed sorting files, which means she ought to as well. But—]
Where in the world did you find such a thing?
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[ He holds up his hands, all ten bare fingers, as if it couldn't be somewhere else. The abandoned file slides back into the drawer with a thunk.
It really does sound like bullshit. ]
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Did you discovered any other interesting secret names among our colleagues, or am I unique? [A tip of the head, a waggish bat of the eyelashes.] Moreso.
no subject
You know Loxley, the rifter? [ A sacrificial lamb—goat?—whom neither of them is close to and whose past cannot haunt him here, if it's a haunting sort of past. ] His real name is Chivalry. Poor man.
no subject
Richard can't know, [is far more business like by contrast.] He'd have been blinded in a tragic eye rolling accident by now.