howtoactfereldan | (no subject)

(no subject)

Normally by this time of year there's been at least one storm coming in from the Waking Sea that breaks the humidity -- but no, Kirkwall is unseasonably humid. Because of course it is.

At any rate, that's why Cullen isn't wearing as much plate as he ought. That, and he's in the yard, out of sight of any civilians.

It helps him be faster, he tells himself. Mostly it's just miserable, and he's quite looking forward to plunging his head in a nearby rain barrel.

(It doesn't help that Cullen is currently losing handily. Though if truth be told -- and he'd never admit it -- it feels good to lose like this, winded as he is, muscles burning as they are.)

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There are a few things that Cassandra could have said that might surprise him more, but given that she wants him to command the forces of this Inquisition or whatever it is, he probably shouldn't underestimate what she can come up with.

"Of course -- though you'd still be seeing it with a templar, which makes a difference." He looks at her. "I expect we'd see less of the Carta or the Coterie than you might if you chose a different guide."

"Another time, perhaps."

Leliana would have some recommendations in that regard, she is sure. Besides, she has more than one reason for asking this of him.

"If you do not mind, that is."

"Not at all," he says. "I've no desire to run into either group. Or cultists," he adds, as an afterthought. "When did you want to go? I've time today, though I can rearrange my schedule with enough notice."

"I see no reason to delay," she informs him. "Today will do well."

He'd expected as much.

Cullen glances briefly at the sky, to check the sun (and winces, a little, at the light); he looks down at Ci, who is currently happily wriggling on her back in the sawdust (and smiles, a little, despite himself).

"I'll meet you outside the viscount's office at the next bell?"

He doesn't leave in anything other than full armor, and he'd like a chance to wipe off some of the humidity-induced fug.

"Very well."

It will give her enough time to attend to a few important matters, not the least of which is to arrange for her next session with one Varric Tethras.

"Thank you."

One day, he reflects, he might well stop being unnerved when a superior thanks him for doing as he's told --

-- she says she's not your superior, he reminds himself, and nods, awkwardly. A whistle to Ci, and they're off.

By the time they're to meet, he's standing by the doors, armor impeccable, face impassive, hands clasped at parade rest. No mabari, though.

Edited 2016-03-21 01:33 (UTC)

She is a few minutes late. Leliana had caught her at the door of her room with the latest report from her agents.

(There is still no sign of Hawke's uncle, which is no great surprise. It had been a mere chance, no more, and from what Varric has said about the relationship between the Champion and her uncle, it's unlikely the man would know anything useful anyway.)

Cassandra moves with confident steps, the armor of the Seekers of Truth fitting her with ease.

"Cullen. I hope you have not been waiting too long."

"Of course not, Seeker Pentaghast."

There are both guards and templars around; she gets her title, here.

She gives him a sharp look but forbears to say anything about it.

"No Ci?"

Half a smile, now, as he opens the door and strides out onto the Viscount's Way. "She's young, still. And learning. I cannot guarantee she'd obey immediately should I issue a command while she's distracted. And Kirkwall has plenty of distractions."

"A good point. I have known recruits with that sort of nature."

Cassandra matches his pace, paying attention to both him and the city around them both.

"The difference being that one can generally trust a recruit not to bite a perceived offender," he says, wry. "So -- this is Hightown, as you know. It's been quieter, since the incident. The markets have moved over to the territory generally regarded as belonging to the Dwarven Merchants Guild -- they didn't get as much debris over there, and at least they can lay more claim to fair business practices than other groups operating in Kirkwall."

"Mm. I am impressed that there still are markets to speak of."

She slants a sideways look at him.

"How much did Varric Tethras have to do with that?"

Cullen's return glance is mild. "Very little, though you're asking the wrong person. They'd little to do with the Order before, and our concern has been elsewhere since. It's my understanding that his elder brother was the one who dealt with the Guild, as the head of the family. You might make some inquiries in the Lowtown markets, or send someone adequately disreputable to do it for you."

"I take it I do not strike you as disreputable enough?"

A passing noble makes a choked sound and discovers urgent business in another direction.

He snorts.

"Is that a serious question, Cassandra?"

She flashes him an amused smile.

"Leliana despairs of me," she confides. "I would be useless as one of her agents."

"It would hardly be appropriate for a Seeker of Truth to engage in that kind of... whatever it is she does."

It's better than saying skulduggery, which is what he means.

"Somehow, appropriate does not seem the right word."

There's an unmistakable hint of grimness in her tone of voice for a moment before she shakes it off.

"But I do take your point."

She does not ask about the ruined Chantry site, nor of the repair work undertaken in the area. For one thing, she is well aware, now, of just who has led those efforts, and to what extent.

For another, she is more interested in Cullen's view of this city.

"I didn't think you'd approached me due to my skill with words."

His arms folded, he looks out at the expanse of Hightown -- and, in the distance, Lowtown, the docks, and the Gallows. It's a strange feeling, to hate a place so much and yet care deeply about how others see it.

She's not Meredith. She's not Meredith. My head hurts. Blessed are the --

"Regardless. You wanted to see the city. I assume you know Hightown by this point. Where would you like to go?"

"There."

She nods toward the Gallows, looming against the skyline.

"I would understand the path that has brought us here."

All of us, she does not say, although silence carries weight. The whole of Thedas. So much has happened, and while it is not all Kirkwall's fault - far from it - still, the match that struck spark to flame and destruction was lit here.

If she's watching, she won't miss how Cullen's expression tightens.

"We'll pass through Lowtown to get to the docks," is all he says. "If something catches your eye, and you'd like to know more, I trust you'll say something."

"Yes. I will."

She marks his reaction, but does not say anything about it.

Not at first.

"... if you would rather not do this," Cassandra says, abruptly, "then --"

Stiff:

"If I gave you the impression that I'm unfit for the task, I ask for the chance to remedy that impression, Seeker Pentaghast."