I went to a tavern in Denerim when I was there last, and they put their stew inside bread. It was amazing. I’m obsessed. You will have to come visit so I can buy you one.
[ He’s not her father; he doubts she needs one, and the most he’s ever aspire to being for anyone is a fun uncle. But still. He’s most familiar with Matthias as someone calling Byerly a wanker and saying he wouldn’t care if he died, so— ]
And he’s kind to you? He listens? No name-calling?
[ Asked mildly, with only a small amount of real worry. He’s pretty sure Laura wouldn’t tolerate it. But only pretty. ]
[ Her answer is immediate. The very question feels peculiar; if anything, she's of a mood to think herself far less kind. Matthias has learned to heal people, and she still exists to harm them. (Even Matthias himself, if only by accident.) She leaves the Gallows - and him - for months at a time, and he's never resentful. ]
He always listens. Unless I don't wish to say anything. Then he talks.
[ Shocking as that might be to some people who get his argumentative, ornery pieces. But that’s why Bastien’s willing to believe without question that Matthias is gentle with Laura. No one is only one thing all the time with everyone. ]
If he weren’t, I’d have called things off a long time ago. And thrown all of his clothes into the harbor.
[ If she isn't the first person to be happy for him, she's certainly the first one to say so.
Which is fine. That's the risk a fellow runs, taking up with a (technically) married man who has a history of riling people up for kicks and/or intel, who's sometimes genuinely moody and difficult, and has now been saddled with a position where he cannot possibly please everyone in their rowdy and disparate little organization and has more important work to do than try. If what Bastien needed was for everyone to be happy for him, he'd have married Catarina Barreau and had half a dozen very boring children.
But it's still awfully nice to hear. ]
Thank you.
[ And after a moment to be quiet and pleased, ]
Tell me something else. Tell me when you realized you like Matthias, or what your favorite season is.
[ If there's one thing she's learned, both from life in the Gallows and life before it, it's that people's relationships are complicated and frequently opaque. She doesn't know, for instance, exactly how things work behind Madame de Cedoux's door, but she knows it involves two other people, and they each seem satisfied to carry the others' scents. That is enough.
Bastien is her friend, and he's happy. That can be enough, too. ]
Right before winter. When the weather is cool, but it isn't cold.
[ He laughs. That’s what he gets for giving her choices. And for making one of them a hard question. ]
How I realized I liked him—
[ Different from loved, thank the Maker. ]
We are old, you know, and we have known each other for a long time. It happened by inches. I thought he was handsome when I first saw him. Only handsome, though. The sort of places I spent time in back then—it was not unusual for the children of nobles to wander through for a year or two while they were avoiding their great burdens. [ Touch of sarcasm there. ] I liked to tell them lies and take their money. I assumed he was like them.
The first time we played together—music, I mean—that is how I realized he was interesting. I didn't expect him to be able to keep up with me, but he was better than I was. He still is. You should go listen to him play in Lowtown sometime, if you haven't, he's really—
[ He stops and puts himself back on track. ]
And then it turned out he was poorer than I was and not anything like the awful company he was keeping. I liked him plenty then. But he was in love with someone else. And so was I.
[ When Bastien tells stories, they're always enjoyable - but hearing tales about himself has a new sort of fascination for her. She soaks this one up eagerly, silent on the other end of the crystal, but rapt. ]
[ He hums, because it’s her turn, and he’s considering enforcing his made-up rules instead of answering. But he doesn’t. ]
His name was Vincent Suchet. He was an art dealer. He had a crooked front tooth and he liked raspberries and he was always making plans. Every time you talked to him, a new scheme.
[ She might want to know who Byerly was in love with, too, but that’s Byerly’s and Alexandrie’s story to tell. ]
Did you ever know anyone your own age, before you came here?
[ She's ready to ask him more, to try and ferret out a story about Vincent, but Bastien has a question, too. It's a trip wire, and it's one she doesn't want to answer. Bastien would likely let her say so, but he's said more about himself than she'd expected. She wants to do him the same courtesy.
So, after a breath: ]
Other prostitutes. And I had a friend, in Cumberland.
[ How long has it been since she thought of Kiden? ]
[ Relief, then - she learned the idea of relief fairly early on in Kirkwall, and it's a sensation she's felt over and over since. Bastien doesn't ask about Kiden, or about what she means when she says other prostitutes, or what she thought of Cumberland.
She loves him for it.
And, tentatively, the first thing she can think of that is about nothing they've talked on: ]
I have read every book in the Gallows about the Black Fox. I wish we had more.
[ He’ll remember, if she ever does want to talk about it, or if something ever happens to make it necessary whether she wants to or not, or if she’s ever sent back to Cumberland for Riftwatch, or if he ever hears the name Kiden in a rumor. If the ghosts and spirits that love to bother them all ever bother her about this.
But for now: moving past it, gasping in a hyperbolic but genuine way. ]
You have? Oh, I can get you more. I have some of my own you can borrow—only a few, I only keep the best ones. If you want more after that, we can go shopping.
—you like them? [ Probably more important, but he got excited there for a second. ] The stories?
The first real book I ever read was about the Black Fox. The people who taught me to read, they started with children's primers, then poetry and their friends' pamphlets—but then they finally asked me what I wanted to read, and, [ he does a snap-and-point, invisible but audible, ] Black Fox.
I like the ones about how Black Fox and Karolis became friends.
[ Many versions, but if she's read the books, she knows the gist: a bounty hunter sent after the Black Fox, who nearly killed him on several occasions, until he was instead so impressed by him that he gave up his profession and joined Remi in a joyful life of crime. ]
And I liked the ones where he trained the young Duke Bastien de Ghislain, because we had the same name, you know? So it was like I was in them.
[ It's almost true. ]
Your fairy tale book—was one of them the Bone and Velvet Boy?
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And I will bring Matthias. He would like soup inside bread.
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[ A delighted ah, not an oh no ah. ]
You are planning for after the war with him? It must be quite serious.
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He understands me. I like to be understood. And I understand him.
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It’s hard to think of anything better.
[ He’s not her father; he doubts she needs one, and the most he’s ever aspire to being for anyone is a fun uncle. But still. He’s most familiar with Matthias as someone calling Byerly a wanker and saying he wouldn’t care if he died, so— ]
And he’s kind to you? He listens? No name-calling?
[ Asked mildly, with only a small amount of real worry. He’s pretty sure Laura wouldn’t tolerate it. But only pretty. ]
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[ Her answer is immediate. The very question feels peculiar; if anything, she's of a mood to think herself far less kind. Matthias has learned to heal people, and she still exists to harm them. (Even Matthias himself, if only by accident.) She leaves the Gallows - and him - for months at a time, and he's never resentful. ]
He always listens. Unless I don't wish to say anything. Then he talks.
Is Byerly kind to you?
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[ Shocking as that might be to some people who get his argumentative, ornery pieces. But that’s why Bastien’s willing to believe without question that Matthias is gentle with Laura. No one is only one thing all the time with everyone. ]
If he weren’t, I’d have called things off a long time ago. And thrown all of his clothes into the harbor.
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I told him I was happy for him. I'm happier for you.
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Which is fine. That's the risk a fellow runs, taking up with a (technically) married man who has a history of riling people up for kicks and/or intel, who's sometimes genuinely moody and difficult, and has now been saddled with a position where he cannot possibly please everyone in their rowdy and disparate little organization and has more important work to do than try. If what Bastien needed was for everyone to be happy for him, he'd have married Catarina Barreau and had half a dozen very boring children.
But it's still awfully nice to hear. ]
Thank you.
[ And after a moment to be quiet and pleased, ]
Tell me something else. Tell me when you realized you like Matthias, or what your favorite season is.
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Bastien is her friend, and he's happy. That can be enough, too. ]
Right before winter. When the weather is cool, but it isn't cold.
How did you realize you liked Byerly?
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How I realized I liked him—
[ Different from loved, thank the Maker. ]
We are old, you know, and we have known each other for a long time. It happened by inches. I thought he was handsome when I first saw him. Only handsome, though. The sort of places I spent time in back then—it was not unusual for the children of nobles to wander through for a year or two while they were avoiding their great burdens. [ Touch of sarcasm there. ] I liked to tell them lies and take their money. I assumed he was like them.
The first time we played together—music, I mean—that is how I realized he was interesting. I didn't expect him to be able to keep up with me, but he was better than I was. He still is. You should go listen to him play in Lowtown sometime, if you haven't, he's really—
[ He stops and puts himself back on track. ]
And then it turned out he was poorer than I was and not anything like the awful company he was keeping. I liked him plenty then. But he was in love with someone else. And so was I.
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With whom?
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His name was Vincent Suchet. He was an art dealer. He had a crooked front tooth and he liked raspberries and he was always making plans. Every time you talked to him, a new scheme.
[ She might want to know who Byerly was in love with, too, but that’s Byerly’s and Alexandrie’s story to tell. ]
Did you ever know anyone your own age, before you came here?
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So, after a breath: ]
Other prostitutes. And I had a friend, in Cumberland.
[ How long has it been since she thought of Kiden? ]
I do not wish to talk about them.
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[ Unhesitating, unbothered—though of course it always bothers him a little, when there’s a stone he’s told not to turn. He loves turning stones.
But people are allowed to have boundaries.
At least when he likes them and hasn’t been sent on a mission to turn that particular stone. ]
Something else, then. Your choice.
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She loves him for it.
And, tentatively, the first thing she can think of that is about nothing they've talked on: ]
I have read every book in the Gallows about the Black Fox. I wish we had more.
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But for now: moving past it, gasping in a hyperbolic but genuine way. ]
You have? Oh, I can get you more. I have some of my own you can borrow—only a few, I only keep the best ones. If you want more after that, we can go shopping.
—you like them? [ Probably more important, but he got excited there for a second. ] The stories?
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[ Rescuing ordinary people from ignoble fates at the hands of the powerful - it's an appealing throughline for Laura. ]
If I may borrow yours, I will.
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[ He'd be delighted. ]
The first real book I ever read was about the Black Fox. The people who taught me to read, they started with children's primers, then poetry and their friends' pamphlets—but then they finally asked me what I wanted to read, and, [ he does a snap-and-point, invisible but audible, ] Black Fox.
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[ She can understand the instinct, that is to say. ]
Which is your favourite story?
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[ Many versions, but if she's read the books, she knows the gist: a bounty hunter sent after the Black Fox, who nearly killed him on several occasions, until he was instead so impressed by him that he gave up his profession and joined Remi in a joyful life of crime. ]
And I liked the ones where he trained the young Duke Bastien de Ghislain, because we had the same name, you know? So it was like I was in them.
[ It's almost true. ]
Your fairy tale book—was one of them the Bone and Velvet Boy?