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[A loaded silence. WOULD they care?
More importantly,]
Who am I marrying?
More importantly,]
Who am I marrying?
I suppose it is one way to determine if I've truly been disinherited.
[ Ha. ]
Even better.
What do you think. A noble's young mage daughter, no longer bound for the Circle because there is not one for her to be bound for? A Fereldan [ sorry for this being the most offensive-to-Tevinter thing he could think of, By ] milkmaid?
In either case, we could heavily imply she is pregnant.
Even better.
What do you think. A noble's young mage daughter, no longer bound for the Circle because there is not one for her to be bound for? A Fereldan [ sorry for this being the most offensive-to-Tevinter thing he could think of, By ] milkmaid?
In either case, we could heavily imply she is pregnant.
[An indignant scoff,] Fereldan? [Offense achieved.]
The first one, I should think. At least make it believable.
[a pause,]
...they might not believe she's pregnant.
The first one, I should think. At least make it believable.
[a pause,]
...they might not believe she's pregnant.
Why not? They have barely seen you for the better part of seven years. Maybe things have changed for you. Or she is very wonderful.
[ Look, he has a Thedosian Kinsey 5 sometimes-sex-is-work understanding of sexual fluidity. Surely anyone can eventually get it up for anyone else. What even is a gene. ]
[ Look, he has a Thedosian Kinsey 5 sometimes-sex-is-work understanding of sexual fluidity. Surely anyone can eventually get it up for anyone else. What even is a gene. ]
It's worth a try, but you'd better be ready to sell it.
You better be ready to sell it, [ quoted back to him in a bad imitation of his accent and affectionately mocking how dare you imply I might ever not intonation. ] Who do you think I am?
Although I was thinking, you know, it would be a joke. Something to make them think for a moment and then laugh or. Crush in their fists. Whatever they do up there. You really want to convince them?
Although I was thinking, you know, it would be a joke. Something to make them think for a moment and then laugh or. Crush in their fists. Whatever they do up there. You really want to convince them?
[Another scoff; he doesn't sound like that,]
I'm not sure they'd find it terribly funny-- if anything it's adding insult to injury, since they're still down an heir either way.
At best they'll say fine, have a nice life, and throw the note in the fire.
I'm not sure they'd find it terribly funny-- if anything it's adding insult to injury, since they're still down an heir either way.
At best they'll say fine, have a nice life, and throw the note in the fire.
"I've got my letters. Nevarran and Orlesian," The latter's a stretch. He can do the Chant. "And if you don't mind me saying, Messere -"
It's not as if they don't know.
"- I've got standing in places Riftwatch has trouble making nice." There's a reason they shipped the louder rebels out here. A hand presses forward, blots an incidental thumb over that fight, "I keep a cool head."
It's not as if they don't know.
"- I've got standing in places Riftwatch has trouble making nice." There's a reason they shipped the louder rebels out here. A hand presses forward, blots an incidental thumb over that fight, "I keep a cool head."
Intriguing. Benedict angles his head, eyebrows raised, prompting further elaboration. "Such as?"
"Shutting down that nightmare magic bought a lot of goodwill," He ought to know. "But soldiers are quick to forget. I don't only mean Templars, you saw how many are out there. Mercenaries and conscripts."
"There's a narrative - and I'm not saying it's everywhere - about Riftwatch being where you go when you wash up. It shouldn't be." A breath in, "Fucksakes, you kill dragons."
"There's a narrative - and I'm not saying it's everywhere - about Riftwatch being where you go when you wash up. It shouldn't be." A breath in, "Fucksakes, you kill dragons."
[A thoughtful pause;
then, a very noncommittal:] I suppose.
then, a very noncommittal:] I suppose.
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