faderift | ( closed )

WHO: Fitz, Ellis
WHAT: Chores, bonding (?)
WHEN: now-ish
WHERE: Wysteria's haunted house
NOTES: currently n/a

When they'd asked Fitz to organize the library, they probably weren't expecting him to read half of the books in the process. The project's been slow-going and slowly transformed into more of an extended orientation for all things Thedas than just shifting shelves, and it hasn't exactly been a priority, but slow-going beats not at all.

Which is all to say: the library probably looks worse off than it did before they'd pawned it off. There are more books on the floor and tables than there are on the shelves, the second draft of a filing system that Wysteria had started and that Fitz only finds frustrating like, twenty-five percent of the time.

"Adventures of the Black Fox."

Fitz has carved out a spot near one of the corners, where he's claimed a chair in front of a middling-sized desk. He's got his feet up on said desk — not that rude, considering how dusty everything is anyway. He's nearly walled in by the stacks of books he's been diligently paging through and sorting, and he leans around them to make sure Ellis can hear him from where he's toiling on the other side of the room. Struggling with a lopsided shelf? Organizing stacks? Something. Fitz hasn't been paying attention.

"How much of that's actually non-fiction."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The part of Fitz that is still a big baby thinks: he can handle it on his own, whateVER. The rest of him tells that part to shut up, because he'd absolutely rather not handle it on his own. Besides, Ellis is right — having a Warden around will be useful for a billion reasons, even if it's a very taciturn one. Company and back-up's never a bad thing, either.

He glances to his palm, a little surprised by the reminder. Strange that he's gotten so used to the green sliver so quickly.

"Yeah, of course. Always do when I'm out of the Gallows." This is patently not true. He's got leather gauntlets he wears, yes, but he's admittedly lazy about it around Wysteria's house and sometimes even around Kirkwall (that cat's kind out of the bag, isn't it?). They're always on outside of the city, at least.

"We should start by getting the latest on the Anderfels, even if it's not much." A tangible pause, brow furrowing as he's waylaid by an annoyingly responsible thought. "Should we loop the head of Sashamiri in? Or— I mean we haven't really got anything to discuss, yet."

"We should talk to Tony," Ellis says, decisive.

He doesn't know the man who leads Sashamiri. It's a mage, Julius, who Ellis has only seen from afar. There's nothing particularly ominous, apart from the fact that Ellis had never met him, and doesn't know what his commitments are. If they're embarking on this kind of delicate research, they might as well keep it contained as possible until the last second.

That's always worked out for Wardens, right?

"Maybe he can tap Scouting for information on the Anderfels."

Because the alternative is Ellis trying to do something delicately, and that seems like a far lower success rate.

A few things: Fitz recognizes that thought process, instantly, without having to put much thought into it. Maybe not the specifics of it — the exact whys, but he's followed that instinct to keep things contained and controlled himself.

And the second thing: he's done so without bothering to interrogate his own whys, to ask whether they're good or bad or remotely smart or justifiable. Which means when intuition sends up a red flag, tells him that maybe he should push Ellis on his motives, Fitz just casually marks it as 'read' and does none of that. He's had practice.

"Okay. Great, I'll ask Tony to get us an update."

Said with the brisk optimism of having a course of action as he leans forward, turning his focus to a small stack of books as if it's that easy to get back to work. It isn't. Fitz opens the top one, goes through the motions of reading the title, then taps restlessly on the page before glancing back to Ellis. Ellis, who he's managed to spend months working alongside with very little information to show for it, who reminds him a bit of those times he's been iced out of discussions by 'need to know' and of having friends who turned out to be spies.

He's had practice with this, too, and he doesn't sound like he's taking anything personally when he speaks up again. It's calculated, slightly curious.

"It's not going to be a problem, you coming with." No obvious lilt, but the searching tone makes it a question. "You're not the person to ask," he says, pointedly, echoing Ellis's earlier statement back, "but you're not going to get in the way of answers coming from anyone else."

For a moment, it almost seems as if they'd go back to working in companionable silence. Almost

The question isn't necessarily accusing, but Ellis doesn't know how to answer it. Is it a question? Fitz looks expectant, so Ellis offers up the most simple one he has.

"No, I'm not," he says after a moment, after he's settled three delicately bound leather volumes on the lowest shelf and straightened up.

There's a pause, before he offers, "I'm still a Warden. I can't give up their secrets, no matter what has become of us. But others might, if I'm standing beside you when you ask."

"Great," again, this time a little more comfortable. He's still not sure he gets Ellis, but that's not really the point: some things you have to take on instinct. It helps that Tony seems to trust him, helps to a lesser degree that Wysteria seems to. Also helps that Fitz can respect hardcore compartmentalization as a way of getting things done.

This time his gear shift towards the books is more settled, no more distractions. "I'll ask Tony."

[ smash cut to ]

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puts bow on this 10 years later