[ His corpse would probably find a way to ruin Kostos's day from beneath the floor boards, too. ]
Mn. I do love surprises.
[ He doesn't. He does take a seat, unoffered, across from Kostos. ]
Particularly when they take the form of abruptly having to decide whether or not to mislead my superiors, without any idea what I might be misleading them about.
[ What a fun guessing game.
(That Kostos has something to hide in those requisitions is barely in question; the manner of the thing, though -- the narrowed flick of his gaze down the line of a jaw is cautious, assessing. Ilias has made too many optimistic assumptions about other people's intentions to rush judgement now.) ]
[ There's a moment of concern, a held breath, and then, ]
Since you're here to dangle it in front of me— [ Like a lure in front of a cat, he feels, and not in small part because he recognizes the resemblance: aloof, moody, certainly not above taking a swipe at things just because they irritate him. ] —I'll assume you did mislead him.
[ Is that a relief? He isn't sure, not only because the assumption might be too hasty. Owing Ilias a favor isn't at the top of his wish list. Being blackmailed would be better, even, because then he wouldn't need to feel any gratitude.
He still doesn't look up from the map, but he's stopped looking at it. It might as well be wallpaper. ]
[ His mouth flattens around the corners -- yes, he did mislead him; no, that didn't put him in the mood to offer Kostos even a smidge more reassurance than that. He may not be much for politics, but he knows how to keep a string out of reach. ]
To know if that is a decision I ought regret.
[ Or take back. This isn't so simple as blackmail; no coin to trade for his silence. He'd trusted Kostos enough to lie for him; that doesn't mean he trusts him enough to keep doing so. ]
An excellent question, [ Kostos says flatly, and quietly—only not reflective due to the layer of sullen resentment over top.
If he lies and he's dismissed, he won't go far, and they can continue regardless. If he lies and he's imprisoned, or whatever else, the others can probably find another medium—Senior Enchanter Rhys is out there somewhere, at a minimum, and Kostos would be surprised if there weren't an apostate or five with the touch tucked away in Rivain or with the Avvar.
If he tells the truth and Ilias doesn't keep it to himself, things will become more difficult than finding a replacement medium somewhere, very quickly.
It's a gamble. And—because he isn't as bad at figuring the odds as his gambling debt implies, so much as he just doesn't know when to quit—it's one for which he doesn't have enough information to reasonably calculate the risk. But that might be remedied. ]
What do you think should happen to us after the war?
[ Somewhere to start. He looks up from the map, finally, too, to examine Ilias' face, too intent for the question to look like a non sequitur, even if it sounds like one. ]
[ His mouth opens; closes again. What on earth that has to do with whatever Kostos is hiding in his books, Ilias doesn't know, but the implication that it might certainly widens the scope of possibilities. ]
I... would return to the Grand Necropolis either way.
[ —is only half cop-out, half explanation. Maybe he'd be free to go into the city on his days off, and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd be allowed visitors, or letters, or choice in his academic pursuits, and maybe he wouldn't. (Maybe he would be held accountable for his crimes, for Leander's by extension, and maybe he wouldn't.) The difference is not so significant in his mind that he considers it his business. Tries not to think about it at all, in fact. Another of his life's little luxuries, now scooting uncomfortably out of reach. ]
I believe structure is important. Safeguards. But what form that takes— [ A vague gesture. If he were trying to say what he thinks Kostos wants to hear (wasn't he a Loyalist, once?), he'd probably be doing a better job of it, but equivocation is still equivocation, and he can almost hear his young apprentice still, scoffing through his teeth.
With the slightest self-depreciating bite: ] Perhaps that is not something that should be decided by someone to whom the Circles were kind.
But it isn't exactly the right thing, either, and Kostos gives Ilias a considering look that stretches into a silence that other people might find uncomfortable, which is part of why he's developed the habit. His stare does a decent job pinning people against walls to squirm, when they're not also strange foreign mages and likely immune to thinking he's going to light them on fire and then make their bones dance for the king. He's also thinking, though. Hard, and quickly. Like Ilias is a logic puzzle to be deciphered from a sparse handful of clues.
Ilias knew Casimir; Ilias makes his own reckless decisions at least occasionally; Ilias covered for him thus far.
It's still a gamble. Kostos is too much of a pessimist, especially about Ilias, to think this is a good idea. Which has stopped him from doing things approximately never. ]
Before the rebellion, they found a way to reverse Tranquility. They say they managed it once.
[ That shouldn't be news. ]
But the Seekers murdered him— [ Not true, but there are two mages in Thedas who know that, and Kostos isn't one of them. ] —and since then—nothing. No word. No attempts. Whatever else is done with us, I would see that...
[ Ended. Him, and several other people. It's been a fairly massive undertaking, reaching as high up as to encompass two of the division heads and a handful of other people more important than he is to the Inquisition's larger cause. He'll stop taking all the credit as soon as he's sure the credit isn't coming with a dungeon cell.
In any case, he trails off, tongue slightly tied by uncertainty even if he refuses to look the least bit repentant or afraid. Killing Ilias and hiding the body isn't entirely off the table. ]
[ For Kostos's personal achievement scrapbook, that extended silence does in fact earn an uncertain eye-shift from Ilias, who is momentarily forced to consider the possibility this conversation might result in anything more serious for him than annoyance. It's not his favorite sensation.
But the explanation is— not what he was expecting, if the careful tilt of his head is any indication. It's not that he doesn't think of Kostos as a decent person; he does, in the way he thinks more people are at some level, the way he imagines anyone who works this hard trying to save the world via a position he clearly dislikes must be, and Kostos has proven he can be counted on to put other people’s lives before his own when presented with that choice. But part of Ilias still looks at him and sees the sulky teenager vying for some Enchanter's approval.
Reversing Tranquility won’t earn anyone a pat on the head. A noose, maybe. At least Ilias doesn't look ready to tie it personally. (Imagine what could be undone—) ]
And you would see that work done here. Under the nose of a Seeker-led organization, with the Inquisition's resources, with—
[ With the Inquisition's Tranquil. He swallows, eyes going wide and still. ]
[ With Casimir—but he doesn’t specify agreement to that specific part. Not yet. There are a few very simple ways to make sure this can’t be gone through with, if someone decides it needs to stop, and Casimir is the component that would most quietly disappear.
He does relent in the eye contact department, at least. Victory already assured on that front. He looks back at the map. ]
People need us more than they hate us. That will only last until the war ends.
[ It needs to be done here, now, regardless of who is in charge. They can only be as much trouble as they’re worth, or they’ll risk everything, but they’re worth a lot. They can move mountains.
—he thinks about Nikos, and the multitudes in Tevinter. His jaw tightens for a second. ]
We can’t help them all now. But if we know what it means, for them to be brought back— [ a twinge of uncertainty: it may be the wrong word ] —then we will not be arguing about theories and possibilities, when we have to decide what we’re willing to live with.
[ If they live at all. Maybe Corypheus will win. Kostos flicks over a pin-flag stuck into the map—solely out of ill temper, he’ll have to put it back later. ]
[ Silence isn't denial. It isn't confirmation, either, but the possibility of Casimir's involvement, once bloomed, swiftly colors everything that does come out of Kostos's mouth.
It is a sounder argument than he expected. A goal that will help them make decisions, instead of a decision already made in the seeking, and while that doesn't erase any of the dangers inherent in what he's attempting, it does make them easier to ignore. But Kostos is talking about the fate of mages across Thedas, and Ilias is still stuck on the fate of just one. ]
No.
[ He answers softer, not willing to concede defeat in so many words, but no longer on the cusp of a rebuttal, either. ]
Are you going to tell me if--?
[ Who else would it be? How many Tranquil are even in the Gallows? Ilias's mouth pulls, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Of all the people to have to bare this vulnerability to, it had to be Kostos, who he fully expects will elbow him right in the metaphorical ribs. But there's nothing for it now.
A hand scrubs at his face. Trying again: ]
Is it for Casimir? [ Equally important, ] Is that what he wants?
[ A flicker of something—annoyance, uncertainty, both—but Kostos nods, one answer to both questions. It’s for Casimir. He wants... ]
There is a way to undo it temporarily. We did it long enough to ask him. And afterwards, he—
[ He doesn’t want to die. ]
He’s agreed to go through with it. And there are others involved— [ as conversational in tone as he gets with anyone he doesn’t like enough to smile for, quiet but still sullen ] —so if you do interfere, someone you can’t see coming will make sure you regret it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Mn. I do love surprises.
[ He doesn't. He does take a seat, unoffered, across from Kostos. ]
Particularly when they take the form of abruptly having to decide whether or not to mislead my superiors, without any idea what I might be misleading them about.
[ What a fun guessing game.
(That Kostos has something to hide in those requisitions is barely in question; the manner of the thing, though -- the narrowed flick of his gaze down the line of a jaw is cautious, assessing. Ilias has made too many optimistic assumptions about other people's intentions to rush judgement now.) ]
no subject
Since you're here to dangle it in front of me— [ Like a lure in front of a cat, he feels, and not in small part because he recognizes the resemblance: aloof, moody, certainly not above taking a swipe at things just because they irritate him. ] —I'll assume you did mislead him.
[ Is that a relief? He isn't sure, not only because the assumption might be too hasty. Owing Ilias a favor isn't at the top of his wish list. Being blackmailed would be better, even, because then he wouldn't need to feel any gratitude.
He still doesn't look up from the map, but he's stopped looking at it. It might as well be wallpaper. ]
What do you want?
no subject
To know if that is a decision I ought regret.
[ Or take back. This isn't so simple as blackmail; no coin to trade for his silence. He'd trusted Kostos enough to lie for him; that doesn't mean he trusts him enough to keep doing so. ]
no subject
If he lies and he's dismissed, he won't go far, and they can continue regardless. If he lies and he's imprisoned, or whatever else, the others can probably find another medium—Senior Enchanter Rhys is out there somewhere, at a minimum, and Kostos would be surprised if there weren't an apostate or five with the touch tucked away in Rivain or with the Avvar.
If he tells the truth and Ilias doesn't keep it to himself, things will become more difficult than finding a replacement medium somewhere, very quickly.
It's a gamble. And—because he isn't as bad at figuring the odds as his gambling debt implies, so much as he just doesn't know when to quit—it's one for which he doesn't have enough information to reasonably calculate the risk. But that might be remedied. ]
What do you think should happen to us after the war?
[ Somewhere to start. He looks up from the map, finally, too, to examine Ilias' face, too intent for the question to look like a non sequitur, even if it sounds like one. ]
no subject
I... would return to the Grand Necropolis either way.
[ —is only half cop-out, half explanation. Maybe he'd be free to go into the city on his days off, and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd be allowed visitors, or letters, or choice in his academic pursuits, and maybe he wouldn't. (Maybe he would be held accountable for his crimes, for Leander's by extension, and maybe he wouldn't.) The difference is not so significant in his mind that he considers it his business. Tries not to think about it at all, in fact. Another of his life's little luxuries, now scooting uncomfortably out of reach. ]
I believe structure is important. Safeguards. But what form that takes— [ A vague gesture. If he were trying to say what he thinks Kostos wants to hear (wasn't he a Loyalist, once?), he'd probably be doing a better job of it, but equivocation is still equivocation, and he can almost hear his young apprentice still, scoffing through his teeth.
With the slightest self-depreciating bite: ] Perhaps that is not something that should be decided by someone to whom the Circles were kind.
[ Considering. ]
no subject
But it isn't exactly the right thing, either, and Kostos gives Ilias a considering look that stretches into a silence that other people might find uncomfortable, which is part of why he's developed the habit. His stare does a decent job pinning people against walls to squirm, when they're not also strange foreign mages and likely immune to thinking he's going to light them on fire and then make their bones dance for the king. He's also thinking, though. Hard, and quickly. Like Ilias is a logic puzzle to be deciphered from a sparse handful of clues.
Ilias knew Casimir; Ilias makes his own reckless decisions at least occasionally; Ilias covered for him thus far.
It's still a gamble. Kostos is too much of a pessimist, especially about Ilias, to think this is a good idea. Which has stopped him from doing things approximately never. ]
Before the rebellion, they found a way to reverse Tranquility. They say they managed it once.
[ That shouldn't be news. ]
But the Seekers murdered him— [ Not true, but there are two mages in Thedas who know that, and Kostos isn't one of them. ] —and since then—nothing. No word. No attempts. Whatever else is done with us, I would see that...
[ Ended. Him, and several other people. It's been a fairly massive undertaking, reaching as high up as to encompass two of the division heads and a handful of other people more important than he is to the Inquisition's larger cause. He'll stop taking all the credit as soon as he's sure the credit isn't coming with a dungeon cell.
In any case, he trails off, tongue slightly tied by uncertainty even if he refuses to look the least bit repentant or afraid. Killing Ilias and hiding the body isn't entirely off the table. ]
We cannot continue that way.
no subject
But the explanation is— not what he was expecting, if the careful tilt of his head is any indication. It's not that he doesn't think of Kostos as a decent person; he does, in the way he thinks more people are at some level, the way he imagines anyone who works this hard trying to save the world via a position he clearly dislikes must be, and Kostos has proven he can be counted on to put other people’s lives before his own when presented with that choice. But part of Ilias still looks at him and sees the sulky teenager vying for some Enchanter's approval.
Reversing Tranquility won’t earn anyone a pat on the head. A noose, maybe. At least Ilias doesn't look ready to tie it personally. (Imagine what could be undone—) ]
And you would see that work done here. Under the nose of a Seeker-led organization, with the Inquisition's resources, with—
[ With the Inquisition's Tranquil. He swallows, eyes going wide and still. ]
With Casimir.
no subject
He does relent in the eye contact department, at least. Victory already assured on that front. He looks back at the map. ]
People need us more than they hate us. That will only last until the war ends.
[ It needs to be done here, now, regardless of who is in charge. They can only be as much trouble as they’re worth, or they’ll risk everything, but they’re worth a lot. They can move mountains.
—he thinks about Nikos, and the multitudes in Tevinter. His jaw tightens for a second. ]
We can’t help them all now. But if we know what it means, for them to be brought back— [ a twinge of uncertainty: it may be the wrong word ] —then we will not be arguing about theories and possibilities, when we have to decide what we’re willing to live with.
[ If they live at all. Maybe Corypheus will win. Kostos flicks over a pin-flag stuck into the map—solely out of ill temper, he’ll have to put it back later. ]
Are you going to report me?
no subject
It is a sounder argument than he expected. A goal that will help them make decisions, instead of a decision already made in the seeking, and while that doesn't erase any of the dangers inherent in what he's attempting, it does make them easier to ignore. But Kostos is talking about the fate of mages across Thedas, and Ilias is still stuck on the fate of just one. ]
No.
[ He answers softer, not willing to concede defeat in so many words, but no longer on the cusp of a rebuttal, either. ]
Are you going to tell me if--?
[ Who else would it be? How many Tranquil are even in the Gallows? Ilias's mouth pulls, struggling to keep his emotions in check. Of all the people to have to bare this vulnerability to, it had to be Kostos, who he fully expects will elbow him right in the metaphorical ribs. But there's nothing for it now.
A hand scrubs at his face. Trying again: ]
Is it for Casimir? [ Equally important, ] Is that what he wants?
no subject
There is a way to undo it temporarily. We did it long enough to ask him. And afterwards, he—
[ He doesn’t want to die. ]
He’s agreed to go through with it. And there are others involved— [ as conversational in tone as he gets with anyone he doesn’t like enough to smile for, quiet but still sullen ] —so if you do interfere, someone you can’t see coming will make sure you regret it.