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[altusimperius]

tell him how pretty he is

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[poleaxed]

Rich folk. Don't worry, I'm safe as houses. You are too.

[altusimperius]

[THEN WHY MENTION IT,]

Any idea when you'll be back?

[poleaxed]

[Friendly conversation? About murder??]

Couple weeks, at least. Hopefully sooner rather than later; miss my bed something terrible. Why, you need something?

[altusimperius]

Well,

[that's a good question.]

um... do you have any experience training people to withstand interrogation?

[poleaxed]

Is that... something you're looking in to?

[altusimperius]

[Grimly,] it seems like it would come in handy.

If Tevinter takes Kirkwall, I don't think they'll kill me immediately.

[poleaxed]

[A long sigh.]

I'll be honest, there isn't a thing as not breaking. Everyone does eventually. 'Least, that's what I been told, and I believe the bird who told me.

She said, best way to get one over is to give 'em lies. They won't know the difference. Torture ain't... efficient.

[altusimperius]

[A sigh in return, though one of acknowledgment. She's probably right.]

I'm just.

[He pauses, mulling it over:] ...I'm afraid of what I don't know. Which is a lot.

I'm not a good liar.

[poleaxed]

I don't reckon they put clever folk in charge of torture. Seems to me a job perfect for weak sorts who get off on having power. I've known some professional torturers, at least, that's what they called themselves. May be different in Tevinter, I'll grant you.

[What with, you know, the blood magic and all.]

[altusimperius]

I think we'd both be surprised.

[All he has to go from was that dream, but with everything that added up and made sense, there came some chilling truths.]

...but I'm not asking to be flayed alive. Combat training hasn't killed me yet, I don't see how this would have to be much different.

[poleaxed]

I'm not going to hit you for the sake of hitting you, lad. Tried that at the start, remember? Wrong way of doing things.

[altusimperius]

I'm not--

[He sighs through his nose.]

We could be sparring, and you ask me a question. I have to answer it with a lie, think on my feet.

[A beat.]

...I only ask because I trust you. You've been good to me. [In her way, at least, which he's come to recognize.]
But I won't press it. It's just a thought.

[poleaxed]

Ha! [The snap of fingers.] That's a clever plan, luv. Thinking on your feet already, I reckon. I'll do it.

You've made fair progress. Want you to know that.

[altusimperius]

[His smile is audible, the words genuine:] Thanks, Jone.