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[cozen]

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[cozen]

I told you that you could. [ He nudges Byerly’s arm with his foot, where it’s still propped on the arm of his chair. ] And you can.

Anyway, she is not only my friend. I am supposed to be training her. I think she might have even told me about—that incident, when she said that about your wife? The first day we agreed to work together. She told me she had said something to upset you and wanted advice on how to repair it, but she didn’t know why or remember what she had said to cause it.

We are working on it. So it is good for me to know.

[bouchonne]

[ By plays with Bastien's toes, wriggling them in turn like they're doing a kick-line. ]

What, going to teach her to only be hurtful intentionally? I think that'd be a good lesson.

[cozen]

I suppose. If I can.

[ There’s a bit of regret to it, but it’s hard to look rueful when one’s toes are being wiggled. ]

Or if Alexandrie can—we are splitting the task. I was not confident in my ability to teach feminine wiles.

[bouchonne]

A baby does need two parents.

[cozen]

[ He laughs. ]

Did you know she and Alexandrie are the same age? It took me some time—I knew how old both of them were, but it still somehow did not seem to me that it was the same number.

[bouchonne]

[ An incredulous scoff. ]

That can't be right.

[cozen]

Give or take some months, and allowing for the the possibility one of them— [ Athessa ] —has her math wrong? I swear it.

[bouchonne]

There has to be ten years between them.

[cozen]

[ A serene head shake. ]

They will both be thirty next year.

[bouchonne]

You know, I think I did know that abstractly. But still.

[cozen]

Still, [ Bastien agrees.

It's absurd.

Anyway. ]

Do you want me to talk to her? I won't say a word if you don't want me to.

[bouchonne]

Do you have anything to say, if you were to do so? Seems foolish to order you into a siege that failed once already.

[cozen]

That it is difficult for you to be comfortable with someone again once they have accused you of something awful, that you were telling the truth about your job, that it was significant for you to tell her about it at all and you felt brushed off by her response.

[ He finishes not-quite-all of the hot chocolate—some can be cold chocolate in a few more minutes, also good—and sets it aside to retrieve some already-rolled cigarettes from his desk. ]

She asked me for advice on getting people to talk about themselves more recently. You could be good practice.

[bouchonne]

I have told her all of that before. [ Well - ] At least the latter two things.

[ But... ]

But I suppose it might come better from you. Don't go out of your way, though. I've no doubt that you've better things to do with your time than wrestling donkeys.

[ He holds out a hand for a cigarette. ]

[cozen]

No, not really.

[ He hands one over, followed by holding out the convenient and hitherto unmentioned candle already lit on his desk, and belatedly asks: ]

Wrestling donkeys—a Fereldan pastime?

[bouchonne]

[ A laugh. ]

This is a brand-new, never-before-heard metaphor. Though maybe I could get it started.

[cozen]

Kirkwall might like it. You could sell tickets.

[bouchonne]

Unfortunately, there are too many Fereldans here to sell it as some traditional Fereldan feat of strength. Maybe I'll pretend it's Chasind.

[cozen]

Or Avvar. You could ask those two we have hanging around now to help. They seem helpful.

[ They do not seem helpful.

Bastien tries and fails to blow a smoke ring—for lack of recent practice. He might get the next one. ]

Do you still have the hat?

[bouchonne]

[ By blows a perfect smoke ring and grins smugly at Bastien. ]

I do.

[cozen]

Good. Keep it.

[ Perhaps there will be hats at his birthday, to make sure his is properly appreciated before it falls out of style. But he doesn't explain, because he'll have to confer with the committee, and now he's busy watching the smoke ring ascend until it falls apart. ]

Show-off.

[bouchonne]

[ For his next trick: he lets smoke out through his mouth and then sucks it in through his nose, creating a closed loop. ]

[cozen]

[ After a moment of observation, Bastien leans over from his chair to squeeze his nose shut for him. ]

[bouchonne]

[ By sputters a laugh, slapping at Bastien's hands in delight. ]

Ha, you bastard -

[cozen]

Yep.

[ Ouaip, really, of course. Much more sophisticated. He gives the tip of Byerly's nose a parting wiggle, slapped or not, before he lets go.

But karma is swift: when he makes an attempt at the same trick, he winds up sort of snorting and sort of coughing and definitely not closing any loops. ]

—I have always found smoking best enjoyed simply. [ Primly, in his Nobleman Voice. ] Gimmicks and tricks only distract, and this tobacco is [ average at best ] too fine to waste on nonsense.