Let No Soul Hunger For Justice: Nothing But The Truth

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Adelaide, Alistair, Anders, Bethany, Nathaniel, Varric, Vasran, Velanna
WHAT: The Second Ritual
WHEN: 10th of Bloomingtide (May 10th)
WHERE: half an hour outside of Skyhold
NOTES: Plotting post.

They've kept to the same clearing as the last, because the location's good. Far enough away that no one could stumble upon them by accident, near enough in case something went seriously wrong, it works.

He has scarcely more hope this time than he did the last, but at least there's no singing involved. This can't go as strangely. In theory.

Comments

[fleurdesel]

I was actually questioned about that. My knowing and saying nothing. As soon as you left I found a bottle of brandy and a bottle of wine and went to Dorian's tent to drink the shock away. I was angry. I am still angry, a little, but ever at myself for not noticing or thinking to ask. It does not help that not but a few days before another friend of mine I've come to trust confessed to me a wealth of sins that he hid with lies of omission. Apparently, I trust too easily.

Which is laughable considering how I was when I arrived.

Afterward...I threw myself into work. It did not occur to me to say anything and by the time I returned to Skyhold, Sister Nightingale sent for me. The interrogation was mortifying- I have not been treated as such by anyone in my entire life.

And I am not even all that certain she was wrong to do so.

[ Time to drown that thought with brandy. ]

No. You were being a self-righteous martyr and it seems a pattern of behavior with you.

[justice_is_blond]

And you attempt to solve a great many things with drink and that seems a pattern of behavior for you. If I'm going to get drunk for the first time in over a decade, I'm going to do it entirely. Please pass it back or I will have to leave and find some other source.

[He's feeling a little more relaxed than he really should, he thinks, but he doesn't care.]

Besides. It's hardly being a martyr if you don't want to die. I think. I'm not certain what the definition of martyr is, exactly, and I was doing my best to not gain too much notice. I didn't want people suspicious. Leliana was anyway, but that's Leliana. And if I'm playing the martyr, so are you. Feeling like you deserved to be mortified because you didn't notice something that you'd not expect? No one thought I'd be here. Except perhaps Nate and Velanna. I had a habit of turning back up, back then. A lot.

[fleurdesel]

It never effects my work or hurts the people around me.

[ Unlike his habits, but that goes unsaid. Somehow. She tucks the bottle to her chest and glowers at him. ]

If you want it you will have to take it.

[justice_is_blond]

[He's not certain of his coordination, and so he hesitates. Grabbing for her chest does not seem like the safest plan. And yet... First, though, he reaches for her cup and discovers it's empty. So much for the easy route.]

If that's the way you want to handle this.

[A gentleman would walk away. He's a common-born mage. Anders grabs for the neck of the bottle with the intent to pull.]

[fleurdesel]

Anders...

[ He wouldn't-

he would!

She swears around a burble of what might be laughter, leaning away with a firm grip on the bottom of the bottle. ]

Stop that!

[justice_is_blond]

[He does stop, because he's not going to keep grabbing at someone who has said to stop, but that doesn't keep him from scooting his chair closer and smiling faintly, raising both his eyebrows.]

You said. I was only listening. And I checked your cup first.

[fleurdesel]

This is my father's favorite brandy and if you are going to drink any more tonight you must promise I will not have to think about Justice for at least three hours.

[ There's a bit of a hitch in her breath at the mention of her father- an old pain, and older regret. ]

[justice_is_blond]

[Can they make that promise? Justice seems annoyed, but not pushing. He seems more inclined to sitting back and letting Anders make a fool of himself so Justice can lecture later.]

Three hours Justice-free. Or we wrestle for it. Your call.

[fleurdesel]

...

[ Her eyes narrow for a moment. ]

I bet the rest of the bottle you cannot get it away without magic.

[justice_is_blond]

[This is probably somehow a bad idea. He can't figure out why.]

You're on.

[That's all the warning she gets before he's lunging toward her and attempting to tickle her.]

[fleurdesel]

[ Not much warning at all. Another one of those sudden oath as she curls around the bottle- hand pressed to her mouth to muffle laughter. ]

You sneak!

[justice_is_blond]

Sneak nothing!

[Curling around isn't working exactly as planned, but he can't say he had a plan to start with. Anders tries to keep tickling with one hand while sneaking a hand toward the neck of the bottle again, and instead loses his balance and falls to the side, grabbing for her... but not to catch himself.]

[fleurdesel]

You are-

[ She can't get a word out edgewise around the crackling of laughter, low and warm and rich as they topple from the chair with a stunned yelp. ]

[justice_is_blond]

[He takes enough care to make sure neither she nor the bottle suffer a break from the sudden fall, and then it's his turn to laugh and try to take advantage of the shift in position to get the bottle.]

I am. Yes. Good of you to notice.

[fleurdesel]

Ridiculous. You are ridiculous-

[ She tries to twist around enough to squirm away- but it does little good for either of them. ]

I am thirty seven years old, De-De!

[justice_is_blond]

[De-de. It actually works well enough, with Anders, and Maker, it feels good to hear again. They're caught, now, one of his arms caught underneath her somehow and the other tangled around one of hers and he doesn't even really care about the brandy he's still trying to get.]

I'm... I don't know, something like that in years too! So?

[fleurdesel]

[ She wants to say they are too old for this- but it won't come past her lips and therefore isn't true. She wants to speak to decorum and dignity and that too cannot find it's way past her throat.

So she laughs. Hiccups and laughs and attempts to tug the bottle out far from herself, tipped carefully to keep it from spilling. Hair loose and piled behind her, eyes bright- it is not quite the same as First Night- it is not the same as the morning after the soiree. But there are shades of it in the softness around her eyes, the warmth in her smile. ]

It makes this more ridiculous

[justice_is_blond]

[She's gorgeous. He's never forgotten, but like this? He's reminded so fully that he can feel it in his heart.]

And? I've never made any real attempt to claim to be dignified. I'm a farmboy, my lady.

[He's teasing and happy and slowly untangles his arm from hers to rest a hand on the bottle, eyes still sparkling as he lays here next to her.]

Ridiculous is what we do. It passes the time when we're chasing the cow that somehow did the impossible and hopped the fence. Or makes an attempt at running away all the more entertaining. Did you know they caught me once because I stopped to try my hand at working puppets? One of those sorts with strings and boards. Not my most glorious moment, I assure you, but certainly ridiculous.

[fleurdesel]

Puppets.

[ She stretches and strains- trying to keep the bottle out of his reach. ]

You should have stolen your Phylactry before escaping- or made an attempt to do so. That had always been my plan if I wished to leave.

[justice_is_blond]

[He's not tall... but he can still scoot up a little and try to follow the bottle.]

I had guards, after the first time. And the first time was blind fear and panic and confusion; I didn't speak the language and didn't know what was going on. Why they'd taken my blood was beyond me.

[He's still smiling, because this is some of the not-painful parts of his past. It doesn't hurt. It's simply what was.]

There wasn't a chance I was getting my phylactery. There is a chance I'm getting this bottle, tempered by how I'm trying to not pin you with my legs while I could. Apparently there's a tiny portion of gentleman in me afterall.

[fleurdesel]

As if that would help you-

[ She freezes, then, snorting low, warm laughter as she presses her forehead to Anders' shoulder. Don't say it. Don't say it. ]

From what I have seen Nathaniel is neither a gentleman, nor tiny.

[justice_is_blond]

[His eyes go wide for the briefest moment, and then he's snorting, feeling close to laughter.]

Well.

[There's so much amusement in his voice and eyes.]

His family had lands, that makes him something, right? I'm never clear on stations. But no, he is most definitely not small. He's very--I'm not talking about his anatomy. He'd be so flustered, and while I like his blush I don't want him blushing for that reas--Maker if I could find a way to deflect right now I would be doing so. Bottle. I'm taking this bottle.

[Anders scoot-lunges for it, which is far from the most graceful move he's ever made.]

[fleurdesel]

No you are not!

[ She twists and her hand slips- and the bottle is his. But victory? Is hers- as he lunges she twists and drags herself on him instead, lying half across his ribs, arms propped up against his shoulders. Draped upon him like a cat, hair a long, curled mess around them. ]

If you say nothing at all I shall assume the rumors false and that he is indeed a tiny, tiny man. Despite the breadth of his shoulders, Maker's breath- they do not come half so broad or half so fine in Val Royeaux.

[justice_is_blond]

[He's fairly certain victory is his, with her on top of him and the bottle in his hands. Or maybe it's not, as there's a slowly growing awareness through his semi-drunken haze of the fact that he still has more feelings than just friendly ones for her. How that works when he loves Nate he doesn't know. How that works when they're talking about Nate he truly does not know at all.]

He is sized perfectly, in every way. Very, very few come shaped with nearly as much perfection as him.

[There's a definite warmth in his voice as he speaks.]

And he thinks himself unattractive, so I'm making sure to tell him the truth of the matter at every opportunity while I cannot lie so it sinks in that I'm not simply saying he's gorgeous to make him feel better. For the record, you are also gorgeous.

[fleurdesel]

I had wondered.

[ She hums softly under her breath, content to linger against him for the moment, cheek pressed to his hair. Later she might look back at this in fear or mortification but for now? in this warm, drunken moment? It is fine. This is De-De.

Not Anders, not Detlef.

Someone she likes. Someone she trusts. ]

Whoever made him feel like that ought to be ashamed. As terrible as it is that he is Fereldan- he is striking. Like something out of my brother's torrid romance novels, the printings they have on the front. [ A beat, a thought, a sigh. ] You too, though you know it. You were even when we met- though it was less the skin, the hair, the robe and more how you felt. You ached so much and still gave everything you could. You still do. It helps me forget, sometimes...