fade rift. inbox.

[dissono]

for private scenes and correspondence.
non-urgent crystal messages will be responded to by letter at his earliest convenience.

Comments

this runner is having a great day just walking back and forth down the hall

[dissono]

Provost,

You would be most welcome. I am conveniently to hand; we share a hallway.

GERVAIS V

getting his thedasbit steps in

[rowancrowned]

[ it takes him an embarrassing amount of time to go from 'down the hall' to 'wren's rooms are down the hall', and he thinks, perhaps, barring the fire, that she doesn't have too much to complain about, does she. maybe emeric will send an assassin after her next, and it will be he with the axe, and-

ah. he is before her door. he knocks, and waits for it to be answered.

his lady-love has such a charming family. he likes best the ones that don't try to kill him. ]

[dissono]

( gervais is and is not alike to his niece, to his brother. like emeric, he is a tall man; a little slighter than his brother, certainly slighter than thranduil himself, but easily above six foot. broad-shouldered and lean, with a tidy beard, auburn hair pulled tight back from his face—the robes of the circles long behind him, now, soft leather trousers and a looser fitting shirt worn like he's used to wearing them, now. unadorned, unfussy. neither deferential nor arrogant, just aware. steady.

thranduil is unmistakable for anyone but himself, and gervais stands aside, invites him in with a gesture. his face gives little away; it has long been this way. )

A-a-a-pologies, ( as briefly as he's able, offering thranduil a chair and absently bending to scratch preudame behind her ears as she is becoming accustomed to his doing when in reach, ) f-for my—preference t-t-t-to the written word.

[rowancrowned]

No need, [ he says, smooth and honeyed, taking a seat with a hand smoothing under his robes to prevent wrinkles from forming while he sits as he takes the offered chair. ] I am patient, if you are willing to indulge me.

[ he thinks he will be able to pull very little out of a man who has survived the circles this long; he knows of the handful of mages here who are all two decades and change old, but then it drops off, all at once, like with the elves, and then only one or two older ones remain. what is their second harrowing? ]

Are you comfortable? As I understand it, you were in the wilderness for some time.

[dissono]

( an inclination of his head, yes, to his comfort; it's strange how strange it already is. far more of his life has been spent indoors than out of it, and yet. far more of his life spent in towers very like to this one, and yet he wakes and for a moment it's disorienting. disorienting to be in a bed, and then to be in a bed with another body—two bodies, preudame spending her nights sleeping on his legs or his hips—and then to think, if he liked, he could leave.

it's not his intention, though this first week has shown him intention may not matter. )

Ruins, ( he says, after a moment. ) M-m-m-m-oved, ah, I, ah, moved—less frequently. T-to-towards the, ah, the end of that. Gigi's f-f-f-friends were, ah, were—were very kind to, to aid me.

( emeric, in the low moment thranduil had come to him, wore his heart upon his sleeve; gervais holds his own in his fist, inscrutable. )

[rowancrowned]

I would ask for their locations for my own curiosity, but... [ there are still mages hiding away in some of them, and that trumps any desire to see more of what should not be thought of as ancient. the inquisition (and he) will do their best with the ones they've already stumbled upon. ]

Have you spoken with your niece yet?

[ gwenaelle is gwenaelle, which means she has either seen to it or will need time to come around to it. he wonders if she will tell him about the two of them, or if coupe will. ]

[dissono]

Mm. On, on, on, ah, on—

( getting started is always tricky, in a sentence. his irritation with it is a subtle, barely there thing; the way his hands flex, the very slight tensing of his jaw. it is perhaps not the patience of others that most concerns him, when he prefers not to linger long in conversations—it has always benefited him to be thought harmless, and left a little apart.

and it's tiresome, now, trying to get past that barrier he created. he would not give up freedom, now he has it, but he wasn't made for freedom. he has never lived freely. he is molded to survive something harsher, and ill-suited to anything else. )

On arrival, ( finally.

it had seemed wise. wiser, after meeting her. )

[rowancrowned]

[ there's no reason to prod further, he leaves the matter of gwenaelle well enough alone. there's no reason to prod, and he doubts this man has any knowledge of it all. he did start that rumor all those months ago about the two of them, long before he knew himself enough to realize it was true, but even that...

their odd little relationship has been, so far, oddly left alone and not speculated on; no reason to encourage it.

and thranduil gives up too, on trying to shape his questions a certain way for gervais' sake. ]

I understand you focused on childbirth, [ he hesitates away from midwifery. ]when you were last, ah, employed. Do you intend to take patients in Kirkwall? We have no expectant mothers in the Inquisition.

[dissono]

( gervais gives little away because he has always given little away, but it's worth noting that that particular question asked by this particular man earns thranduil a very long, measuring look.

do we not. how comforting. )

Em-em-employed, ( he repeats. what a curious choice of words. if he has an opinion on it, that's all the indication he gives, moving on with a tilt of his hand; ) A, a, a common, ah, common misconception.

( if you'll pardon the pun. look at him, stonefaced, that can't have been intentional. surely. )

M-m-m-my focus, ah...my focus w-w-was the, the nature of interbreeding. M-m-midwifery is, ah, an incidental, ah, a happily useful accident. I w-w-wuh, I will be working in, in research m-m-matters. If other, ah, if other skills become necessary, then, ah, then I have them.

[rowancrowned]

[ thranduil gazes back, thinking no, surely not, but then: he is his lady's uncle. more than likely. ]

For the sake of politeness, employed. Imprisoned, enslaved, if you would prefer alternatives. Protected, perhaps. Cloistered.

[ all suitable alternatives. ]

Indeed. We will be glad of the standard healing, I suspect. [ i if only for an alternative of 'not anders', in kirkwall of all places.

kerian is hardly underfoot, and children charm thranduil in general, but priorities can be strained when there is someone you love that much right there, small and vulnerable and everything to you. ] The 'nature' of inbreeding?

[dissono]

( the expression does not shift in its mildness as thranduil offers him alternatives. he does not feel the need to comment on any of them. or on what he might consider to be polite. )

I am, ah, I am—I am not a, a, a healer in the, the sense of...you, ah, you will be glad of me in emergencies. B-b-but I don't foresee, ah, foresee it being my primary. Work.

( healers are very necessary in wartime and he's sure he will do that work when the time comes, but gervais has seen a little of the kirkwall outpost so far; people's guts are not on the floor every day. he will be able to turn to more academic pursuits, and all things considered, he prefers that. )

As to, to—to what has been. ( his primary work. ) Th-th-there must be, ah, be a reason for the, the, the, the nature of the elfblooded. Gigi is, she is, ah, she is human. H-h-her children will be. Why?

( he spreads his hands. )

Cl-cl-closer to home than, ah, than I knew.

[rowancrowned]

No, no, forgive me if you thought I was implying as much. [ a graceful enough dismissal in the wave of his hand. ]

Has this not been looked into before? [ he asks, and then thinks of elven women, with mannish children. how inclined they would be to flee from that. how often such a thing would occur in, say, tevinter. he feels something twist inside him, and leaves it be.

he does not think it will come to pass with gervais. still. attentiveness with not hurt. ]

A shame you were not here perhaps a month ago. We had some of my kin here, from the side that took Mannish spouses.

[dissono]

( gervais considers his options.

after an only slight pause, )

And th-th-this is, ah, this is, this is different. T-t-t-to what, ah, you. Have done.

( there's a question in that, for all it does not lilt, his expression steady as ever. a prompt, an opening. come now, we both know what's up. )

[rowancrowned]

[ this, thranduil thinks, is preferable to all the fussing. ]

No. She cannot marry me here, even now.

[ the chantry still would not allow it, he objects to the publicity (at the moment), he promised emeric he would not. ]

[dissono]

( not for the first time, gervais wonders if he'll ever find someone prepared to marry himself and wren; if perhaps they'll simply be engaged til they die. if he'll call her his wife and the maker can go hang if he objects. )

L-l-less, less, ah, less danger she'll be, be obliged to anyone else. Now.

( a philosophical sort of position to take on current events in and out of thranduil's bedroom. )

[rowancrowned]

[ this is a much better reaction than sending an assassin after him. he prefers this. ]

I gave your brother my word. I must not ruin her life. She must be able to walk away at any time with nothing of me clinging to her. [ he recalls the words easily, nearly mimicking Emeric's intonation. ] Though the situation has changed, your brother has not indicated to me that he intends to release me from that promise.

[dissono]

( pride would never let him, gervais thinks, but he says, )

M-m-more pressing, ah, problems.

( thranduil is certainly a problem, but one that will keep when the girl's prospects otherwise are hardly rosy. )

He, he, ah, he...

Em is, ah. Orlais is.

( finally, he simply spreads his hands. )

[rowancrowned]

Gwenaëlle has said as much. [ wryly. ]

I gave my word. I do not think that will save me from your brother should he seek redress, [ he admits. he glances at preudame, crosses one leg over the other. ]

He has told you everything?

[dissono]

( his hands coming together in his lap, loose- )

His version.

( gervais imagines thranduil or even gigi might tell it different. )

[rowancrowned]

I will not dispute it.

[ what do the details matter? he doubts emeric has painted him as a monster. cleverer men laid the groundwork for that seven hundred years ago. ]

Do you wish for assurances?

[dissono]

( what for, when thranduil can give him all the assurances in the world and it's abundantly clear that, like her father (and uncle, and grandmother), young mlle baudin will do exactly what the fuck she likes.

he doesn't think his face is quite gullible enough to merit that, but maybe all humans look alike to an elf like this. )

Of, of, ah, of what?

[rowancrowned]

That I have no ill-intent towards her.

[ he is well aware he has as much ability to control gwenaëlle’s actions short of binding her as he does galadriel. which is to say: none.]

That I am not conspiring with her to vex her family.

[ in another world, he would have been professing his love for her, his intends for the future. here? he can barely promise her safety. at least the eyes of the court may fall from them eventually. ]

[dissono]

( neither of those are things gervais has particularly worried about; thranduil's word means little to him when he knows him so little, cannot judge for himself yet its worth and therefore sees no particular value in demanding promises of him. what would thranduil feel gervais is owed? what would he think, in his place?

after a moment, )

Imagine I, ah, I, I will see. For, for, for myself.

( besides, it had been immediately evident that whether or not gigi conspires to vex her father, that he is vexed pleases her so immensely it's irrelevant. )

[rowancrowned]

[ thranduil inclines his head; gervais will hopefully see very little of it, no one will be seeing very much of it until he and emeric have another conversation.

he does not give his word lightly.

but to speak of what one sees, well: ]

That is Ser Coupe's hound.

[dissono]

Th-th-these are, ah, are, are Wren's rooms.

( what of it, fancy boy. )