Where There's Smoke Pt. 2

[byblow]

WHO: Beleth Ashara, Gavin Ashara, Alistair
WHAT: Two and a half elves go apostate hunting.
WHEN: NOW
WHERE: The Fallow Mire
NOTES: Probably violence. Maybe crying. Perhaps success.

Comments

[byblow]

"Sure," Alistair says, then downgrades to, "Maybe. Dear Lady Trevean, As you may have heard we have a demon problem here in the south, and so on, Ferelden is very grateful for your son's assistance, something something, invitation to a party it would be inconvenient for you to actually attend, and thank Andraste for that, you sound terrible."

[slipshot]

Despite himself, Gavin snorts - a half laugh through his nose rather than his mouth - and he gives Alistair a grateful, if unconvinced, look.

"Well it's worth a shot," He said with a lopsided smile. "Better than any idea I've come up with so far, though I doubt it will work." His face fell, and he frowned at the ground. "It would be different if he didn't mind, or if - if they found a match he wanted, but he says he doesn't want any match, so..."

He looked back up at Alistair and offered a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I've been rambling, haven't I."

[byblow]

"I don't mind," Alistair says, honestly. Even if Gavin were boring--which he isn't--he'd be better than silence, because silence is no longer just silence for Alistair. "But I don't think many people anywhere marry for love. The nobility marry for power and commoners marry to eat. It's all politics and status for dwarves. I don't know much about Dalish customs, but in the alienages marriages are arranged, too, from what I've heard."

He stops because one of his boots has sunk deep enough into mud that it requires effort to pull his foot loose, which also makes him think--"Maybe we should let Beleth catch up."