faderift | [open] nothing can break

WHO: Benedict and yoooou
WHAT: The princess is dealing with a lot right now. Help him (or make it worse)
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will add warnings as needed

I. Around and About

Things are strange these days, but at least Benedict has a job. Being the chamberlain means it's his responsibility to see that guests are comfortable, which means suddenly a goodly portion of the rooms in the Gallows towers are under his care.
As few expected, he takes the job seriously. With his board and his quill he moves from room to room on a daily basis, glancing over those unoccupied and ringing for service in those that have borne guests, making sure their sheets are turned down and their curtains arranged at the most pleasing angle for their return.

He can be found pacing the halls at these times, his step brisk and his brow furrowed in concentration.

II. The Library

And then there are the times he sets aside each day to do research alone; what he's studying isn't obvious, and he's not especially forthcoming about it, but it's a fair number of medical and magical texts that he seems to pull from the stacks.
When not actively reading, sometimes he's just sitting by one of the big windows, cup of tea in hand and gaze distant.

III. Sloppy Bitch O'Clock

Perhaps the reason Bene is keeping so busy, or at least one of them, is that there have been a lot of recent events giving him feelings and problems he doesn't know how to handle. Being aloof means there isn't a lot of opportunity to work things out with friends he doesn't have, and one night something just crumbles.

He's in the Hanged Man (if you're going to do it, why not do it right), already several drinks in and draped over a chair by the fireplace, waxing poetic about how important he is in Tevinter, how he'll be a Magister someday, maybe once all this madness is worked out.
It's frankly a miracle he hasn't been shivved yet.

For Kitty

It's time to pick out new curtains for some of the guest rooms, and Benedict is in Hightown Market wearing his fancy important person clothes while inspecting the goods at a textile stand. He looks up for a moment and, catching sight of Kitty, gives a smirk and a roll of his eyes. Oh hey.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What do you mean, what do I mean?

[ Her eyes narrow suspiciously. Is he trying to trick her? Or does he genuinely not remember? ]

I've said all this to you before, haven't I. You're complicit - have been complicit - in a system that abuses and exploits others. Someone like that doesn't deserve a how-d'you-do, never mind someone like me having a crush on 'em.

[ Kitty "small ego" Jones ]

[He stares at her, all the playfulness gone, the rolled-up fabric hanging like a dead weight under his arm.]

You don't understand, they're-- [Not so much offended, he seems confused.] --they're slaves, they don't care. It's just how things are.

Yeah?

[ She looks like she believes that about as much as she believes that the sky is purple. But his expression seems so baffled - not haughty, just genuinely confused - that she swallows down her insults and instead endeavors to explain. Sort of. It's a hell of a place to have this conversation, admittedly, in the middle of the street. ]

According to who, exactly? 'Cause I doubt you've ever heard that from a slave's mouth when there wasn't someone standing behind 'em with a whip. Tell me, great magister, if you were kept in chains, and told what to do - told to lift heavy rocks and shovel shit and shine someone else's boots - and if you didn't, you got beaten or killed - if you had no right to stay with the people you loved, if they could just be sent away from you and you had no control over it - would you care?

We don't whip them-- [he begins to say, never mind that he actually doesn't know. His parents don't, do they? Would he know, if they did?

The discussion is clearly making him a bit uncomfortable, but only because, if it were true, it would be terrible. But the same rules can't apply.]

That's--... that'd be different. [He furrows his brow. Defensively,] They seem happy enough.

[ A loud scoff. ]

'Course they do. That's part of their job. If they made a lot of noise to you about being miserable, they'd be whipped for that. Because they were upsetting your delicate constitution. Haven't you ever thought about this before? Like, really thought about it?

They're not whipped! Not-- [he's not sure.] --not ours.

[The thought of such a thing befalling Micaela is too awful to bear. But the power of the thought grows, niggles at him, creates a tightness in his chest that verges on painful. What if?]

It's not true, [he says, faintly.] They're... they're born that way, it's just... how they are.

Rubbish.

[ That's said quite firmly, without the slightest hint of doubt. She was certain of this to begin with; her certainty is only reinforced by his visible weakening. ]

If they were born that way, then why are people captured and sold into it? Surely if they were just born to be slaves, they wouldn't put up a fight. And in your history, there have been people who've stood up against it, haven't there. Why would they resist if they were just born to it?

[It's all too powerful a reminder of the close call with the Templars, captured and branded right in front of him, no trouble at all. And his mother, right there--

He's certain he'll be sick. And he needs this girl to stop talking, right now, because he can't listen to it anymore.]

I'm-- [he stammers,] ...going, [and he pushes past her to be on his way, walking quickly and desperately willing her not to follow.]

[ Yeah, right. As if. She turns, and stalks after him - ]

Going where? Going to ask someone you've abused what their life is like? Or going to pretend you never heard anything at all?

Leave me alone.

[There's a quaver in his voice, despite the terseness of the glance he throws back at Kitty. The abuse he endured under the Inquisition's power in his early days here, the confinement and captivity; he'd never subject anyone to that. At least anyone who didn't deserve it. Not Micaela, not the elves who serve their meals or lay out their clothes.
They're happy. They're fine. Aren't they?

He's making a beeline for the ferries, has to get back to his quarters so he can think properly.]

No.

[ She keeps following on, her steps just as quick as his. ]

Not until you tell me that I might be right.

[He picks up his pace, only to stop abruptly and whirl on her when it becomes clear Kitty isn't backing down.]

And what do you gain from this, you want everyone to be as miserable as you? [He knows that hardly makes sense, but he's worked up and that's how it goes.]

Even if you are, what am I supposed to do about it? I can't even go back home right now, what's left of it, because some idiot blood mage decided he's a god and now everything is ruined anyway!

[He hasn't actually spoken of this fact until now, and it comes out in an anxious adolescent whine.]

[ She widens her eyes in a well-duh-tell-me-something-I-don't-know sort of expression. ]

Yeah, actually. I do want everyone to be as miserable as me. 'Cause miserable people do stuff about injustice; they don't just sit around fussing about the window treatments.

[ Pointedly, she sneers down at the cloth in his hands. ]

It's my job. [This is hissed, incredulous. He's doing it for the Inquisition, the very thing fighting injustice, at least supposedly. The organization he sided with over his own country-- albeit because circumstance made it impossible not to-- but still.]

Why don't you crawl back into the gutter, [he sneers, waving down a ferryman and quickly pressing more than enough coin into his hand: translation, get me out of here, fast, and don't let her in the boat.]

Or better yet, just fall back into the sky and fuck off.

And why don't you go rob a grave so you can find yourself a spine for the first time in your life, you - Hey!

[ The ferryman has stepped into her path. She looks at him, incredulous - then levels a poisonous glare at Benedict. ]

You're a coward. A coward of the first order.

[Now that he's safely on the boat, Bene can relax a little-- not completely, since there's no real rest to come after that ordeal, but at least he's no longer being actively pursued. He glances back at Kitty as she shouts, then turns away, hunching his shoulders as if that'll block her out.

He's free, for now.]

[open] nothing can break

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