faderift | [Open] A Romantic Atmosphere

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[Open] A Romantic Atmosphere

WHO: Julius and you
WHAT: Help Julius attempt a Romantic Gesture. (Business/project-focused inquiries also welcome.)
WHEN: Throughout Justinian
WHERE: Various (see prompts)
NOTES: No warnings for now.

I. I forget these unimportant matters

Julius has taken steps to ensure he doesn't miss his second anniversary as he (and Petrana) missed the first. It's still novel to have a relationship he can openly celebrate, and while they both have their hands full with the war, he also feels it's important not to take his partner for granted.

...he has, however, slightly underestimated how difficult it will be to get his hands on some of the components of his intended romantic gesture. His quest for special occasion provisions has taken him throughout the Gallows. Flowers have him combing Hightown. And he winds up in Lowtown looking for assorted decorative elements. In any of these places, he has the slightly harried air of a man who could use some help, or at least someone to get a second opinion from.

II. Just maintain a true perspective

Members of Project Sashamiri, the Diplomacy division or anyone else who seek him out in his office at other points in the month will find Julius much more like his usual self. His office hours regularly extend well past when he claims he will be there as he tries to stay on top a slowly growing mountain of reports and routine duties. When a visitor comes in, they will likely find him frowning absently over a letter, quick enough to look up gratefully at the distraction.

III. Still I'm incandescent [closed to Petrana]

Eventually, Julius puts together all the elements he was picturing. (And, on second thought, removes a few upon deciding they are too much.) When she comes back to their shared room for the evening, she will find a late supper, kept warm and fresh with magic, the fare somewhat elevated from what is usually available in the dining hall. Candlelight is hardly unusual, but he's secured some fancier candle holders for ambiance, as well as a tablecloth and a small, tasteful flower arrangement.

(And if she's late enough, he may come fetch her; he knows that there is a nonzero chance of her distractedly working into the night if he doesn't intervene.)

IV. Wildcard

[If you want to talk something through before you set it up, just grab me on Discord or Plurk and we'll make it happen.]

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"Enchanter!"

It really does carry when she wants it to, that bright airy voice of hers. It cuts carelessly through the buzz of the summer market crowd, appearing to issue from a dainty white lace-edged parasol before the lady holding it moves through the last of the intervening shoppers to join Julius at the flower stall. Close enough now to see his expression, Alexandrie's own shifts briefly from beaming delight to affected sympathetic pout.

"But what is this? It is too nice a day to be worried!" And there's the smile again, accompanied by a conspiratorially arched brow. "Have you done something that necessitates flowers?"

"No! Well. Not the way that you seem to mean." He really must be a bit flustered; usually he's quick to meet her with matching easy charm. Still, he doesn't look unhappy to see her. "That is, I understand flowers are a traditional way to mark the anniversary of a romantic attachment. But I didn't realize there were quite so many options available. I thought there might be some sort of... default."

Alexandrie emits a light silvery laugh for the very idea of "default" flowers, her face brightening with impish amusement.

"Such fortune then, our meeting!" She exclaims and adjusts the angle of her parasol to best compensate for the position of the sun where she stands, settling in for their consultation. "Which anniversary is it, and what is it you should like best to express by this gesture?"

"Two years. Not marriage, obviously, if that makes a difference, but two years of exclusive attachment." He doesn't seem overly abashed at having been so far off base with the flowers, at least. "We, uh, both rather forgot the first anniversary, so I'd hoped that remembering the second would be a demonstration of... that I value it. Her. Us." He's usually good at social engagements, but the truth is that a relationship that isn't by default a secret is still something he's getting the hang of.

“—I have eaten today,” Petrana is in the midst of saying, more bemused than aggrieved, possessing a regrettable lack of immediate context for why Julius is gently but firmly ushering her by the arm into their shared room. He is ordinarily much more understanding than this about her work habits, and

oh, she thinks. “Oh,” she says, more blankly than is entirely charming of her, but her hand comes up to his elbow as she takes in the room and the significance of the date (which she has now missed twice, and Julius was only delayed upon once) begins to sink in.

“Julius,” she says, for a lack of something more immediately intelligent, her hand curving warm around the bend of his arm. “I had quite—this is quite—Julius,” with a little laugh, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth and feeling quite absurd.

"Félicitations!" Alexandrie exclaims warmly, "It matters little, marriage or no—although marriage makes for a fine act of romantic rebellion if naught else," a little glimmer of humour in her eyes for that, "but the promises we make each other in private are as well worth celebrating as anything writ on paper. More, often."

A tilt of her head then, a thoughtful hum, and the tapping of her gloved finger against her lips—or a very close approximation thereof. After all, it wouldn't do to transfer any cosmetic to the white of the cloth. "May I suggest, then, a smaller arrangement well matched to how you view the woman your lady is? Fewer blooms make for a more intimate gesture, and the care in their choosing is a fine signifier of the attention you take to valuing her." A smile, a deft twirl of her parasol.

"I should tell you of the meanings of each flower, but I think in this she should more appreciate your intuitive eye."

"Possibly best," he allows. "Who knows if flowers have the same meaning across worlds, regardless." He studies the spread before them. "I've always been fond of crystal grace," he says. "Not many flowers are beautiful and highly prized for how much good they can do practically. But perhaps on this particular occasion, she might prefer an excuse not to be practical, for an hour or two. Maybe a flower more purely aesthetic would suit the moment better."

It's easy to see how indecision got hold of him. Each individual step is perfectly logical, but they're leading him in a circle.

The laugh is something of a relief, as he worried for a moment he'd miscalculated. Letting her lean on him, he says, "I thought, even though it's a war and we're both tremendously busy, we might be spared for a few hours this evening." A pause, then he adds: "Don't worry, I didn't have to bribe anyone in the kitchens too outrageously."

Luckily, this time Alexandrie is here to interrupt the ruminating with a delicate, if pointed, throat clear.

“You might gift her an excuse to not be practical for an hour or two on any day, Enchanter,” she says mildly, “This day, you celebrate your love for her. So. A lover has different eyes than the rest of us when they gaze upon their beloved; what is it you see, when you look at her?”

He doesn't seem embarrassed, but he stops, thinking her question through. "She is exquisitely lovely, but I needn't know her well to tell her so. Anyone with eyes can say as much." He is, perhaps, biased, though he would argue he's seen enough other people react to her that maybe it's not only that. "But she has, truly, the keenest mind. Bold, when she chooses to be, though so polite that many people fail to notice. She can make me laugh by just lifting an eyebrow at me at the precise moment, it's very inconvenient sometimes..." But this vein, clearly, is easier than trying to translate his feelings directly into flowers. Julius is quiet but frank, smiling a bit as he answers.

“Then those are the flowers you bring her,” is the lady’s warm reply. Her eyes sparkle—Ah, l’amour. “Those that anyone might look at and find beautiful, but that you see much more in. They must have a deeper meaning to you if they are to have a deeper meaning to her.”

A brief pause.

"I begin to suspect that the problem is not that I'm unsure sure how I feel about her," he says. "It's that I was raised in a tower and I am unsure how I feel about most flowers."

She waves a hand, “Ah, but most is not all—what flowers have you settled opinions upon?”

“They do like me very much there,” she informs him, albeit partially into his shoulder, pink with embarrassment and delight, “I earned my keep alongside them for a time before I mastered written trade.”

He is not unfamiliar with her ability to equivocate in conversation upon less solid-to-her ground; she does it very reasonably, and with many seemingly-pertinent anecdotes. A beat passes,

“It is lovely, dear. Most lovely, and you are most dear.”

"Perhaps I'll circle back to crystal grace after all," he says with a smile. "I learned flowers first for their uses, not their looks. The fact that it was beautiful always struck me as something of a grace note; most useful plants aren't particularly striking." His smiles grows, a bit, a touch nostalgic. "I suppose no one was particularly concerned with giving us access to beauty, but beauty smuggled itself in certain places anyhow."

He leans down to press a kiss to her hair. "I only thought," quieter, "that we're both busy people and perhaps I forget to say it, but I really am so very glad of you. I don't wish you to feel taken for granted. And," he adds, "after we both forgot last year, it seemed like one of us should remember. Perhaps we can take it in turns."

“You are very generous to me, having remembered where I did not twice now,” is rueful. Probably it would have eventually occurred to her by herself, but it is fair to say that Julius's wry remark about having missed it was the only reason in the first place she'd been prompted to recall last year, and though she had resolved to keep it in mind afterwards

self-evidently, she had not succeeded. This, though, seemed a wonderful success: a little thing for the two of them, carved out of the chaos they were constantly wading through, hip-deep. (At least. Julius's hips, too, the taller.)

She lets go of him only to sit, since it seems the thing to do, touching the crystal grace's edge lightly with her fingertips. “I don't mean you to feel taken for granted, either.”

To be fair, he's read her notes about his performance in bed. He probably doesn't.

He sits opposite once she's settled. "I don't. It is still novel, you know. To feel I have the resources and the right to make such a celebration, even a quiet one like this. I'm glad to do it with you, but you pay me plenty of attention other times." Not all the time, but that wouldn't suit him any more than it would her. They both have ambition, as well as a sense of responsibility; hers was part of what drew him in the first place.

Reaching for the wine, he adds, "I also trust you to say, if you were unhappy or... if things didn't suit you as well as they did before. It isn't always easy for me, to do that. But I do."

Being as she had hoped that particular circling back would occur, Alexandrie’s answering smile has a touch of self-satisfaction to it.

“Did she come so, into your life?” she queries, “A thing of unexpected beauty?”

His smile grows a little. "I wouldn't have thought to put it like that, but I suppose she did. I certainly didn't set out to join the Inquisition with the thought of meeting someone, much less someone from another world entirely."

The fact that she could abruptly vanish is never far from his mind, either, but he supposes that the flower analogy holds.

"She was one of the first people to reach out when I arrived. Long before we were romantically connected, I admired her for her ability and the graceful way she navigated a difficult position."

Tevinter is not quite “another world” on the scale of the Rifters, but Alexandrie softens perceptibly for unexpected love all the same.

“And the difficult position of one day noticing of a sudden that one has passed off the maps and into the uncharted wilds of ones heart; was that gracefully navigated as well?” Her smile twitches with mirth. “I shall be terribly envious, if so.”

He laughs, warm. "No, sadly, I cannot claim it was. We both of us entirely forgot our first anniversary, as I said, which suggests that while we try to be attentive to one another, the state of our relations with one another are sometimes subordinate to our respective duties. It's not the sort of thing that makes a good song, I fear. I hope you cleared that low bar, at least."

And that smile spreads, her eyes twinkling impishly. "Perhaps to the detriment of our organization, my duties—and those of my lord—are largely subordinate to the state of our relations with one another." She lifts a shoulder in a small shrug. "We may have our own song, and a fine one, but the two of you shall have a bigger share in whatever ballads they sing of Riftwatch.

"As long as the both of you share the same opinion on the state of things, I believe the bar to be cleared."

“I have never doubted that I might speak my mind with you,” she observes, resting lightly on her forearm, elbows carefully off the table, “and that I might also speak my heart with you is a privilege.”

One that she's enjoyed for some time, now, and it's a strange thing to realise. Not unpleasant—far from it—but the careful way that they have navigated one another has allowed them to become comfortable almost without noticing. Periodically turning, and examining themselves, and being pleased with what they find.

It has been an effort to think to speak of what would please her more—what she wants instead of what she might merely tolerate. Something not entirely natural to her, and something that has been most rewarding to attempt. Thedas has given her so much,

this, too.

"I believe you may be selling yourself short, but as I've been told it's impolite to contradict a lady, I'll let it rest," he says with a smile.

"But yes, I think so. We suit one another well, for the most part. I think another partner might be impatient with how much I work, but she's just as busy, or perhaps busier. So we neither of us feel neglected. It is," he considers, then adds, "It is new to me. Having a romantic relationship that needn't be secret. But if I were doing poorly, I certainly would have heard about it by now."

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[Open] A Romantic Atmosphere

I. (Hightown)

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iii, incandescently.

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