I do not need to go into the details of why Antivan noblewomen must be more guarded of our virtue than women of other parts of our wondrous world, I hope.
( Nor touch on how it'd probably be hella weird for her to sleep with someone who her cousin has also slept with. Or, who she assumes her cousin has slept with.
She admittedly assumes Kostos would sleep with most people. )
I know better than to bore either you or Nikos with the concerns of nobility.
( Lightly said. Much as she might occasionally wish for the source of comfort that could be family who she can confide in about such things; they are free of such concerns, and perhaps that is a freedom of a different type. Less desperation to secure her place, to prove she is worth the risk, to be delicate and feminine against being a capable leader, dangerous when necessary.
It would be worse to talk about it seriously and be met with disdain. )
[ Bore is not the word Kostos would use. Nikos, he would speculate, would appreciate the opportunity to share his thoughts on the matter, but they wouldn’t be thoughts Marisol would enjoy. And Kostos—well. When he was eight, he wanted to be Comte, to the extent being Comte meant using his half-hour of seniority to threaten Nikos with banishment from the estate, someday in the nebulous future, whenever their childhood wrestling devolved into biting and indefinite sitting-on.
It was a long time ago, it’s something he stopped thinking about when he was nine, it’s not something he would go back to now if he could, but nonetheless: way to rub it in. ]
Anders has organized meetings for mages to [ as though it’s something ever so slightly distasteful ] support one another. Perhaps the nobility should do something similar. Dinner parties. Dances.
[ You know, like they already do. But in case Marisol doesn’t know—and because he’s kind of a jerk—Kostos pauses and adds, all deadpan realization: ]
I am glad to hear that your wit is surviving the quarantine.
( Light and cheery, and unconcerned by the little barb.
It is a strange thing, to be a mage from the nobility. Hardly the isolation many have known, she's well aware of that, but there is an uncomfortable degree of separation. Needing to be a noble at some times, a mage at others, and the conflict of those two existing together when precedent would forbid her from her birthright, from taking the reins of all her parents and their parents and all who came before them have built, for a trick of fate. She will secure it. She will bring those that oppose it to their knees, even if it should take decades.
Compared to many sufferings, it is hardly the worst thing in the world, and yet—
at times it is suffocating. She knows, however, better than to bring up the sadness of some social ostracisation to a mage, a rebel, someone who has been exiled from their home country. )
( That's very convincing, for a lie. However, in the interest of something like honesty and less glossing over issues: ) I am worried, but I am very well.
[ His accent in Antivan is just as Nevarran-with-a-touch-of-Orlais as it is in the trade tongue, for the record. He did his best to preserve the language once he went to the Circle, but that mainly meant reading and writing. But still: an effort is made. ]
Not about the quarantine. I can give you a list of other things to worry about if you would like.
You can worry that Migar Tinack will decide that since you are covering my debts elsewhere, you should cover my debt to him as well, and you will be besieged by dwarf after dwarf with daggers. [ Kirkwall's the best. ] But thank you.
[ And. ]
There is also Nevarra, which is furious with us. Antiva, which may decide to be if we are not careful. The Red Templar madmen. Tevinter fanatics. Rifts. [ There is a pause. He's using the pause to drink. ] The Inquisition is desperate enough to ask me to lead one of its projects. I think that is a clear sign we are all going to die. And Nikos is making friends.
( She sounds possibly alarmingly unconcerned. Mercenaries with knives, whatever. Maybe she has something on Migar. Maybe she doesn't. Who knows. ) I am not covering all your debts.
( Some, yes: he's family. But she won't do so much as to enable. )
Mmm. I am working on the Nevarra situation. You don't want to know how many sweet letters I had to compose during the quarantine. It is not all so grim; you have been asked to lead a project because you are capable, and Nikos doesn't make friends, so you can stop dramatising.
[ She can try. And if she succeeds then he will incur new debts with new dwarves, because while he's perfectly aware of how many bits are in a sovereign, a childhood of relative extravagance and then twenty years having everything available free of cost didn't leave him with much sense of how much a bit is actually worth. ]
Northern Powers.
[ His tone suggests that it is all so grim, it is the actual apocalypse probably, and also you will take his drama from the cold dead hands of his mummified corpse. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Skeptical on all counts. ]
The only Division Head standing is a Dalish elf with no interest in containing mages. I trust her not to prolong it.
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( Nor touch on how it'd probably be hella weird for her to sleep with someone who her cousin has also slept with. Or, who she assumes her cousin has slept with.
She admittedly assumes Kostos would sleep with most people. )
Prolong your life, or your death? ( c: )
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Our captivity.
[ His tone is rolling its eyes. ]
And please, do go into detail about your Antivan virtue.
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( Lightly said. Much as she might occasionally wish for the source of comfort that could be family who she can confide in about such things; they are free of such concerns, and perhaps that is a freedom of a different type. Less desperation to secure her place, to prove she is worth the risk, to be delicate and feminine against being a capable leader, dangerous when necessary.
It would be worse to talk about it seriously and be met with disdain. )
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It was a long time ago, it’s something he stopped thinking about when he was nine, it’s not something he would go back to now if he could, but nonetheless: way to rub it in. ]
Anders has organized meetings for mages to [ as though it’s something ever so slightly distasteful ] support one another. Perhaps the nobility should do something similar. Dinner parties. Dances.
[ You know, like they already do. But in case Marisol doesn’t know—and because he’s kind of a jerk—Kostos pauses and adds, all deadpan realization: ]
Wait.
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( Light and cheery, and unconcerned by the little barb.
It is a strange thing, to be a mage from the nobility. Hardly the isolation many have known, she's well aware of that, but there is an uncomfortable degree of separation. Needing to be a noble at some times, a mage at others, and the conflict of those two existing together when precedent would forbid her from her birthright, from taking the reins of all her parents and their parents and all who came before them have built, for a trick of fate. She will secure it. She will bring those that oppose it to their knees, even if it should take decades.
Compared to many sufferings, it is hardly the worst thing in the world, and yet—
at times it is suffocating. She knows, however, better than to bring up the sadness of some social ostracisation to a mage, a rebel, someone who has been exiled from their home country. )
Should I leave you to your loving lampooning?
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[ His favorite word. ]
Tell me how you are.
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( That's very convincing, for a lie.
However, in the interest of something like honesty and less glossing over issues: ) I am worried, but I am very well.
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[ His accent in Antivan is just as Nevarran-with-a-touch-of-Orlais as it is in the trade tongue, for the record. He did his best to preserve the language once he went to the Circle, but that mainly meant reading and writing. But still: an effort is made. ]
Not about the quarantine. I can give you a list of other things to worry about if you would like.
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I paid off your outstanding bills at three taverns, so hopefully that will make the list a little shorter. But please, illuminate me.
( Is this going to be a comedy list or does she need to brace herself?
She figures 40/60 odds. )
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You can worry that Migar Tinack will decide that since you are covering my debts elsewhere, you should cover my debt to him as well, and you will be besieged by dwarf after dwarf with daggers. [ Kirkwall's the best. ] But thank you.
[ And. ]
There is also Nevarra, which is furious with us. Antiva, which may decide to be if we are not careful. The Red Templar madmen. Tevinter fanatics. Rifts. [ There is a pause. He's using the pause to drink. ] The Inquisition is desperate enough to ask me to lead one of its projects. I think that is a clear sign we are all going to die. And Nikos is making friends.
[ He is not making friends. ]
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( She sounds possibly alarmingly unconcerned. Mercenaries with knives, whatever. Maybe she has something on Migar. Maybe she doesn't. Who knows. ) I am not covering all your debts.
( Some, yes: he's family. But she won't do so much as to enable. )
Mmm. I am working on the Nevarra situation. You don't want to know how many sweet letters I had to compose during the quarantine. It is not all so grim; you have been asked to lead a project because you are capable, and Nikos doesn't make friends, so you can stop dramatising.
( Anyway, ) Which project?
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Northern Powers.
[ His tone suggests that it is all so grim, it is the actual apocalypse probably, and also you will take his drama from the cold dead hands of his mummified corpse. ]
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A sigh. )
Nevarrans turn everything into a crisis for brooding.
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The world could literally end.
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[ Come take them, Corypheus. He's ready to die. ]
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