driftfleet | mingle on the pathstone

[if this is becoming a habit, he is not about to complain. and he almost answers her simply, without fight. it's right there on the tip of his tongue.

but, whether his train of thought loops around to something else, or the simple fact remains that he can't give something away without some sort of detour to navigate, he hesitates.

he opens his eyes a little more clearly as he takes the turn in his head.]

...Do you ever think about how little you know about me?

I balance it with the fact that you don't really know much about me, either.

[There's no real negative tone there, it's just an open statement while she's basically petting him. He doesn't know most of what she's been through, who she's lost and how she feels about it all. It could make whatever is between them unbalanced or less real, but to Jove it doesn't. She's seen his bad side, his weak side, and on occasions like this she sees his good side.

Undoubtedly there's worse, there always is, but she's content with what he's given her so far. Which isn't to say...]

I would love to know more, but I generally know better than to ask.

[he actually refrains from scoffing at her claiming that he doesn't know much about her, which is a monumental effort on his part. he's really biting his tongue on that one.

instead, he focuses in on the rest of that statement.]

Because of what you might find out?

[You're such a pal, Tek. The lack of scoffing does mean he gets a very gentle rub just behind the ear without the augment, though, and then her fingernails scraping idly and lightly against his scalp as she combs his hair to lay how it's supposed to.]

Because I don't think you'll tell me. I'd hate to waste our time.

[ugh, she is making it difficult to keep a solid train of thought, though. he's still keeping up his end of the conversation, but he tips his head to the side with an appreciative murmur when her fingernails go dragging.]

...Though, see... There's another fundamental difference between what we mutually don't know about each other.

[If she were feeling particularly devious she'd bring her other hand up to the side of his neck now that he's got it exposed, add a distracting massage to the mix, but she's starting to get the feeling he's actually trying to tell her something.

So she keeps her mouth shut, but she also doesn't stop petting him. So it's at least only one distraction now.]

[one distraction, he can handle--if only just barely. and he duly takes the pause as a sign to continue. it's as good as her asking him to elaborate, in his mind.]

--I doubt there are many of your secrets that would turn me away if I knew them.

[and this is the difference that he is convinced of, at least for the purposes of this conversation.]

You're probably right about that.

[It's just a small interruption, but one that's made to agree with him, so Jove expects that won't derail him much.]

[he's looking for some response then, so it fits right in.]

So, that is the difference between us.

[that's the important point. the things that she doesn't know about him would drive her away, he's sure of it. her opinion would change; it would all be over. as far as he's concerned, they are conditional friends only, just like Beverly had been.]

So you think that eventually I'll learn something about you that will make me stop caring about you.

[It's not a question, that's just the obvious direction he's going with this and it seems faster to just get there first.]

You may be right, but I've yet to turn on the people I've decided to include in my life. Your chances are quite good that I'll stand by you.

What would it take, I wonder?

[and he turns his head to actually look at her this time, signaling that this is not a hypothetical question. he really wants to know.

what would do it? what sort of thing could she find out that would change everything?]

[Absently her thumb rubs against his spine again, her fingers curling through the hair at the back of his neck as she tries to find a good way to explain without it sounding overly dramatic.]

I couldn't say for certain, because I don't know what you've done. I do know that my hands are already dirty, I've killed more people than I can count anymore just for the sake of the people I consider my family.

You called me a politician because of my title of Inquisitor, but I do much more than that. I'm at the front lines of most of the battles with a very small team, and I've never hesitated to kill someone who might want to kill me first.

[But that's not very personal, and he'd probably believe her better if she skipped the bloody battles and told him about hunting men down one by one.]

You know Cassandra. She asked me for help to see justice brought to people I knew nothing about. Five of them. I didn't question her, I didn't doubt her motives. I took her with me with two others and we slaughtered those men and their entourages.

[it's his turn to listen now, keeping his various comments and opinions to himself.

and him waiting in silence for her to continue is both him listening politely, and maybe signaling that he'd like to hear more because he is not quite convinced yet.]

[And she actually smiles, because that's kind of funny.]

Not enough, hmm? Perhaps you'd do better with a more personal story.

[The smile fades quickly after that, because this story is one that's still fresh, even after a year of being in the fleet.]

There's a man named Blackwall in the Inquisition. In Thedas there's a group of men and women who make it their life to selflessly sacrifice themselves should a very particular crisis happen, and it tends to make people think of them as heroes. Leaders of the world are forced to comply to giving them whatever initiates they might need for their wars and it's considered by most to be an honor to enlist. Being a Grey Warden has always had the habit of making people above reproach.

[She's still got her hand in his hair, but she's clearly lost in her own tale.]

Blackwall was a Grey Warden, and when I recruited him it was a turning point for the Inquisition. A lot of people trusted an elf with a human hero standing beside her, and I wouldn't have gotten near as far without him as I did with him to lend me that kind of power. He was a good man, strong in his convictions and painfully amusing to flirt with. You haven't lived until you've made a man with a full beard blush because you've told him you like the idea of him on his knees.

[She's getting off topic, but there's a point to that. She needs Tek to know just how highly she thought of him, how close she had been to him.]

And then one day, he had disappeared. No one, not even my spymaster, knew why. When we found him he was taking the place of a man on the gallows about to be hung for slaughtering an entire family, including the children under the orders of his superior. It wasn't until Blackwall revealed that he was the superior, that he had been lying about who he was, that the man was released and the man I knew as Blackwall was taken into custody instead.

[as he does with any good story, he quietly offers all of his attention as he listens.

and her little tactics are effective. he smirks at the appropriate point, and it adds clarity to the picture as she goes on.]

After he was jailed, I went to find him in his cell for answers. He knew what he was ordering his men to do and it didn't stop him. He knew... [This is where it gets difficult for her. This is the part that she had had trouble reconciling, forgiving.] He knew there were children, and he gave the order anyway.

As the Inquisitor, I had the power to demand he be released to me for judgement rather than staying in Orlais to be hanged. He was disgraced now, never a Warden at all, so he was nothing in the eyes of most. A traitor who should have been hanged, not given over to a knife ear.

[Her tone goes sharp on those last words, on that slur she hates so much.]

I saw him on his knees after all, but it was in Skyhold, in front of that throne you saw me on.

So you took him instead? What did you do with him?

I forbid him from calling himself Warden Blackwall, one for thing. He's going to atone for what he did under his true name, be utterly unable to shy away from his crimes, and he's staying with the Inquisition until our work is done. What he did was disgusting, but he dedicated his life to fighting against people like him, and to save the world. Our relationship took a blow, but it recovered. I still care for him and I always will. I ripped him out of the Orlesian's hands and I'd do it again if I had to.

[Tea forgotten, Jove lifts her hand up, cups Tek's face between her palms, and leans her forehead against his so she can look directly into his eyes.]

I don't lose my people easily, Tekhetsio. Maybe you're a monster, but you're mine and I intend to keep you. Just like I kept Thom Rainier.

[however low he'd unwittingly let his guard slip as he listened to the story, it snaps up again when she's suddenly reaching for him. he's surprised-- jolting a little and almost pulling away in defensive reaction.]

[he only just manages to catch himself, holding onto the tension instead of letting it act.

the words, too, take an effort not to react to. it's all kept under the surface, under the mask, and his expression remains even. the only outward sign is his jaw quietly tightening, before he relaxes again.]

...Give me your hand.

[She doesn't hesitate, but she's not immediately sure which hand he means, so she lets go of him to offer him both, palms up.]

[he hooks a finger under the chain around his neck, and pulls the gemstone pendant he wears at all times out from under his shirt. he tends to push the thing over his shoulder so that it hangs protected behind him when he's sleeping, or turn it completely around so that the gem face is resting against his chest when there are people sharing his nest... but now, he presses it right into her hands, and folds her fingers tight around it.

there are some types of psychic connection in the universe that are gentle or polite, and this is neither of those. as soon as the gem comes in contact with her skin, whether or not she's ever experienced anything like it, it's instantly clear that she's somehow coming in contact with part of the dragon's soul.

it sticks right to hers as if there is no physical reality separating the two of them. whether she wants it to or not, it clings. she can feel all of the funereal worldstuff that he's made of, and how this is just a tiny door that leads back into the entirety of everything that he can't fit in this useless mortal body.

it's like being pulled into an enormous mansion whose walls stretch so far into darkness that they're impossible to see. it echoes on and on, through a labyrinth of hallways and passages and pure history. and as long as she's touching that stone, she's stuck there.]

--Watch.

[the voice is in her head, hissing and sharp.]

[It's not entirely unlike how she felt after drinking from the Well of Sorrows. Suddenly her head is too full, she aches, but there's a lick of pride up her spine when she doesn't cry out like she had in the Well. Because she's had herself invaded in the past she's minutely better able to handle it now, with absolutely warning.

Thank you, Tek.

Her hands clasp around the pendant and she takes a shuddering breath, closes her eyes to better focus on... whatever he's going to show her.]

[he doesn't usually let anyone near his memories, let alone drag them out to forcefully show them to someone.

but she's thrown the gauntlet down. he can't just let her go on without knowing.

however, he doesn't show her the worst. he could probably have dredged up uglier images and pettier deeds, but... he's choosing this one for a reason. he's showing her exactly what has already cost him one ally.

the images are from one of the wars he participated in, where great monsters that shouldn't have been involved in mortal affairs at all caused unimaginable destruction. they were recruited on both sides to act as weapons, to help the human armies destroy one another, and Tek had gone along with it gleefully.

she gets to experience it from his point of view--tapped directly into every life and death around him, as he is. she can feel the wells of power that Atroma has capped here, somewhat, unfettered in this memory as he wipes out dozens of mortal soldiers.]

[The elven god she bears the markings of, Ghilan'nain, had done something like that. Created all the monsters, formed them into nightmares and populated the seas and sky and the land with things that were too horrible to exist.

Maybe, if the elven gods had had their way, this kind of war would have changed things between the elves and the humans. Maybe if they had had a dragon like Tek, the elves would remember their own language, their own past, their own art.

More than that, she's seen a dragon do this, sweep down on its master's orders and kill hundreds, but Jove had thought at the time it was just a creature. Soon, she'll use the power of Mythal to call a guardian dragon to her aid, and will it be any different than this? Will she hesitate to send the dragon to kill Corypheus' Red Templars? She won't, because war is savage and there is always one side that must win.

She feels Tek's pleasure in this savagery, but why shouldn't he be feeling that way? From what she knows of him it's his nature, and she can hardly fault any creature for following what it knows to do.

She doesn't let go of the pendant or his hands, and she doesn't try to look away.]

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