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[cozen]

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[cozen]

"Ah, that is perfect, then."

Down the stairs, out into the daylight, to the extent Kirkwall's hazy skies can ever count as daylight. (They count. He's just a sky snob.)

"I'm glad he has friends. I know we are at war and he's been a bit of an idiot about it, but it must be hard to give up your people and family this way."

[keenly]

"It is." That much is plain to see. It's not far from here to the ferry. "I was there the night he thought he was going to be executed. They didn't tell him he wouldn't be until morning. I couldn't just...let him spend that time alone. Hardly anyone cares about him, and no one important likes that I care, even when it's my job. So I can't help but...just...want to make up for all the lack of caring he's always had, and not just here."

[cozen]

"That's very kind of you," Bastien says, and breaks to talk for a moment with the ferryman, who's been milling around.

Of course he's delighted to receive a snack—in a gruff old rower sort of way—and Bastien makes sure Colin gets all the credit he's due for it before they're settled in the rowboat.

"You are a healer, right? Did you choose it? Or is what you were best at so you—you know." A gesture meant to stand in for the concept of falling into a profession without much choice.

[keenly]

It takes Colin a second to understand.

"I ssssort of fell into it," he allows, "but now I'd choose it. Cooking's an art, it's how I express myself, it's how I show people I care, but healing's more sacred than that. It's like a calling. If I did it to the end of my days, my only regret would be that I didn't start sooner."

[cozen]

Bastien pauses smiling at the water beside the boat to smile more directly at Colin. Charming.

“Who was your first patient?”

[keenly]

Colin's face lights up. "A woman in Darktown with a baby being born arse-first. That baby is now two years old and the parents have gotten out of Darktown."

[cozen]

“Aw, you are still in touch?”

Maybe that isn’t uncommon. He doesn’t know.

[keenly]

"Not since they got out, no. But the baby would be two by now."

[cozen]

"Ah, well. That is very sweet. And good for them that you could help. Maybe when the baby is older, they will tell stories about you."

[keenly]

"How many stories do you know about whoever delivered you?" Colin asks skeptically.

[cozen]

“He was my father,” Bastien says, “so one or two. But d’accord—maybe they will tell one story, singular, especially if it was a dramatic birth? Mothers like to tell children about that. Remind them what they went through to get them here.”

[keenly]

Colin shifts, looking embarrassed.

"I don't, um, I don't like thinking about that. I get nervous when people talk about me. I get nervous talking about myself."

[cozen]

Bastien leans over the edge of the boat to look at the water and doesn’t say you’ve been doing a fine job so far, because he has a weird feeling that would just make the lad self-conscious.

“I am sure you will be a minor character, in the background behind the mother’s labor pains and the father’s panic—but a good one. And the baby will grow up knowing a mage was good to them—perhaps? It was magic, yes?”

[keenly]

That seems to put him more at ease.

"There was some, yes. The people of Darktown are pretty used to mage healers at this point. That clinic's been open for about fifteen years now, always staffed by a mage. They don't really ask questions once they've seen you save a life."

Colin doesn't say the name of the mage who opened it, who trained him and left the clinic in his hands. Doesn't seem like a good idea.

[cozen]

“That’s a long time. That’s interesting. What is it like? A typical day, I mean—would you be there alone? Do a lot of people come?”

[keenly]

"Sister Sara helps! Sometimes Lady Rutyer, too. A lot of people come because everyone's always sick, with the chokedamp and poverty combined. You know, this is the most I've ever talked about myself in a single conversation."

[cozen]

“Really? Have you always been shy?” Bastien asks, but this time with a little smile—it’s a joke.

Sort of.

He’d still take an answer.

[keenly]

"Yes. ...But Athessa told me if I want to make more friends than I lose, I have to talk about myself."

Who knew?

[cozen]

“It does help,” Bastien says.

[keenly]

"Usually I just do what you're doing and get them to talk about themselves. Most people prefer it."

[cozen]

“People like to talk about their areas of expertise,” Bastien says, “and they are usually experts on themselves. Once I asked the late Marquis of Alyons about his childhood and he talked for three hours without needing any further questions or input from me—which was nice. I needed the break.”

[keenly]

“I can understand that,” Colin says with a weak chuckle. “And, I don’t know. Talking about myself, I feel put on the spot. And I’m not good at it. I’ve lost friends.”

[cozen]

Bastien leans sideways to let his fingers cut through the water, but he isn’t leaning so far he isn’t still mostly paying attention to Colin.

“By not talking about yourself?”

[keenly]

“By talking about myself.”

[cozen]

There’s no outward sign. He’s a professional. But inwardly, Bastien considers realigning his understanding of the situation. Gifts, advice from Athessa. Colin not liking to talk about himself but doing so for a fairly long period of time anyway, without making or taking any opportunity to change the subject.

Altogether, it’s within the realm of possibility—not a certainty, especially when they aren’t in Orlais, but a reasonable chance—that Colin wants something. Something other than getting to know each other.

Which would be fine. Bastien would prefer to be told outright what it is and maybe paid for it, all things equal, and if Athessa knows he might have liked a warning, but he’s not offended by the possibility. People usually want something.

He dips his hand deeper into the water, waves rolling over high enough to wet the cuff on his shirt sleeve, and says, “That is always hard.”