There were definitely worse places to live.
It was a lively night in the tavern, and Vesryn could observe nearly everything going on below from the other side of a railing on the second floor. He'd secured an indefinite room for himself just behind where he currently sat, with a lovely view overlooking the training yard, the courtyard down below, and the main hall of the castle itself, situated upon the tallest hill. There were stables down below, nestled into a corner of the walls, and birds rose every so often from the garden, otherwise obstructed from his view by the sturdy walls. The room itself wasn't all that large, but Vesryn didn't spend too much time in it. He was an elf accustomed to always being on the move.
There'd been fairly little moving of late, leading to a great deal of time for Vesryn to think. There was, of course, much to think about. The dead Herald and the dead little bear turned out to be not dead at all, and the Herald was claiming (or at least, not denying) that he was the blood, the descendant, of Andraste herself. Vesryn supposed it could be true; humans had children, after all, and Andraste had some that disappeared. Ultimately it was something neither he nor Saraya had much to say on. The appearance of Andraste was after their particular area of expertise.
Ancient Tevinter magisters, specifically the tools of their trade, however, were more their style. It was a subject Vesryn had ruminated on since the mention of the orb that this Corypheus had carried reached his ears in the war room, the day of Romulus's return. That it was elven he determined within hours. That it had most likely opened the Breach, within the day. Corypheus had been present somehow at the explosion, but how he had survived was not something he could determine, nor could Saraya. Of course, Estella and Romulus had survived somehow, so it was certainly possible for Corypheus to survive as well.
This was not the end of Sarayaās concerns, however, and Vesryn spent the next few days searching for answers as to what troubled her most. When he discovered the cause for her concern, he'd kicked himself for not coming to it sooner.
And thus, Vesryn sat at a small table for two by the railing, overlooking the activity below while he worked on his second goblet of wine. Rather than be too direct about it, heād managed to snare one of the tavernās young elven workers, a girl no more than twelve, and asked her to deliver a note to the Inquisitor. Her face paled at the mention of the word, at which point Vesryn assured her that their Inquisitor was probably the sweetest person sheād ever meet in her life. She obviously didnāt believe him, but the reassurance was enough to get her to take the note. There may have been a promise that the Inquisitor would no doubt find some way to thank her in there as well.
In any case, the girl made her journey up to the big refurbished castle, bearing a well-crafted note that might as well have been from a royal dignitary, for all the effort Vesryn put into it. When one was inviting the busy Inquisitor to dinner, one spared no expense, after all. He didnāt even have any assurance sheād show. Perhaps she was busy, being the Inquisitor somewhere more important. He supposed if he had to, he could hike to her new office himself, but Vesryn much preferred to hope this would work out. Business wasnāt all he wanted to discuss, after all.
It took a fair amount of time for his efforts to yield any results, but yield they did. The Inquisitor slipped into the tavern very much in the manner of someone who desired to do so unnoticed, but was doomed to fail in that respect. After the first couple of greetings, most of the attention in the room had temporarily diverted in her direction, and she stopped moving, shaking her head slightly at the first person who actually attempted to rise and greet her properly. Wearing a small smile, she waved a hand in dismissal, speaking too low to be heard, and he fell back into his seat easily enough, settling for a jaunty salute instead.
That seemed signal enough for the rest, and they went mostly back to what they were doing before, though the volume took a considerable span of time to rise to its previous levels. She glanced around the tavern, clearly seeking him, but when he wasnāt apparent to her, she leaned down to speak in the ear of one of the Lions, who tipped his head back towards Vesrynās vantage point, and she followed the motion with her eyes to where he sat, a trace of bemusement flitting over her features for just a moment before she shrugged to herself and headed for the stairs.
āHello Vesryn, Saraya.ā She came to a stop beside the empty chair, resting a hand on the back of it, inadvertently casting a soft greenish sheen onto the pale wood. āItās been a while.ā Estella looked as though she felt a bit guilty about that, actually.
"Too long," Vesryn agreed. He'd already gotten to his feet by the time she reached the table, and made it over to the chair that awaited her. He eased it out away from the table, well aware that Estella probably didn't want such gestures. He wanted to give them. "But I didn't want to be a distraction until I had something solid to report. You're a busy woman, as I hear it."
It was a bit frustrating at times to be greeted as a pair by those who were aware of his condition, as it were, but Vesryn didn't let it show. He rarely needed to be reminded that he was almost never really alone. Even someone as social as he was sometimes craved a true bit of solitude, and really Saraya could only partially give that to him. He worked back around to his side of the table and sank into the chair, just as the waitress came around to greet them.
"What'll you be having tonight, love?" she asked, clearly acquainted with Vesryn already. He narrowed his eyes in thought.
"I seem to recall the night's special involving steak. Medium-rare, if you will. This place never seems to disappoint."
"Never," she agreed, before turning to Estella, a bit more formally. "And for you, Lady Inquisitor?" A carefully chosen bottle of wine had already been placed on the table, if she wished to share. Naturally, the tavern would do their best to procure anything that she asked for, even if it wasn't on the menu. Such were the benefits of being Inquisitor, even if she didn't want them.
āOh, um.ā Estella paused a moment. āIāve heard you make a nice moussaka here. But itās calledā¦ aubergine casserole? Iād love to try it, please.ā She smiled warmly, then continued. āAnd if youāve anything sweet at handā¦ well, Iām very bad at saying no to dessert. No need to worry if you donāt, though.ā Estella seemed quite aware that anything she said might be interpreted as a demand, given her position, and was evidently at pains to reduce that impression.
With a nod of confirmation and a smile for the both of them, the waitress left, heading back down the stairs to the kitchens, and Estella shifted her attention to Vesryn. āYour messenger was a little shy of me, I think,ā she noted, but a trace of humor appeared over her features. āBut then she found me asleep over my paperwork with ink smudged on my face, which might have helped, embarrassing as it was.ā
Vesryn broke into open laughter, leaning back in his chair. "You poor thing. They're trying to kill you up there, aren't they?" Or maybe she was just doing that to herself. She didn't seem to know how to stop, from what Vesryn had seen. "Well, at least the girl knows now it's not just the little people that go to bed at night exhaustedā¦ or donāt go to bed at all.ā There was a bit of chastisement in there, but Vesryn could hardly judge. His sleeping habits were hardly regular, shifting instead with the events of the day, and the opportunities left to him at night.
"As good as it is to see you, I thought perhaps we could get a bit of business out of the way first. Before the food gets here, at any rate.ā He took another small drink of the wine, wondering briefly if Lady Marceline was responsible for this. Heād have to thank her next time he saw her. "I noted some concerns Saraya had upon hearing of the tool this Corypheus creature carried at Haven. Given the description, and the demonstration of its capabilities, Saraya believes it is elven in nature.ā
Estella contemplated that a moment, filling her silence with activity by taking the opportunity to pour herself half a glass of the wine. She didnāt drink immediately, however, instead reclining back in her chair, brows knit together. āWell then I doubt he came by it honestly,ā she murmured, with a small shake of the head. āOr directly, for that matter. I should like to know how he didā¦ but perhaps thatās not quite so important at the moment.ā She sighed softly, for a moment looking very weary indeed, but it passed hurriedly, as if sheād noticed and corrected it.
āDo you know anything else about the object?ā
"Not much," he admitted. "They channel magic, like a powerful focus, greatly amplifying power. They were not common, even in ancient times. Saraya only knows of them, she was never in a position to use one herself." He believed he had most of that right. There were many things about the orbs he didn't yet understand, but from her uncertainty, the same could be said of Saraya.
"How he came across it, and how he survived the creation of the Breach, are questions that I would like to know the answers to. But you're right, it isn't of great importance just yet." As the evening continued, the floor below was getting livelier, with dancing just beginning now that the music was picking up.
Vesryn watched it briefly, distracted by a short uproar from a newly arrived group of soldiers, greeting some of their friends. "Saraya's concern is that the orb is elven at all, and what may happen if humans at large learn their faith is being threatened by a being wielding elven magic. I know you aren't the kind to jump to conclusions, but sadly people such as you are uncommon. I will admit a bit of concern myself. Humans already need little reason to subjugate elves. I would rather they not have anything they believe truly legitimate." Specifically, he could not help but think of his parents, still dutifully participating in the community of elves in the Denerim Alienage.
Truth be told, Vesryn had never been fond of their choices for him, nor did he feel they influenced his life in much of a positive way, but they were his parents, and they'd at least secured the opportunity for him to have a life at all.
Estella circled the rim of her wineglass with a fingertip, her thoughts having, it seemed, carried her some distance away. She blinked, and her eyes refocused. āAs much as I wish I could disagree, I canāt.ā Lifting her hand, she moved it to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers and her thumb. āThere isnāt any need to circulate the knowledge widely anyway, I should think. If itās all right by you, I want to at least tell Cyrus. He might be able to figure out the rest, or part of it. And then probably a few of the othersā¦ if we know even this much, there might be some way to turn our resources towards learning more. If itās connected to the Breach even just through Corypheus, we should find out as much as we can.ā
Dropping her hand from her face, she settled it into her lap with the other, a wan twist appearing at one corner of her mouth. āI suppose I should have expected everything to get much more complicated before it became any simpler. Thank you, though; this is good to know.ā
"I'm sure Cyrus already has his suspicions, if he's given the matter any thought." It was admittedly a bit annoying to be rivaled in knowledge of his own people by a human that didn't have an ancient elf housed in his mind, but Vesryn supposed Cyrus had the advantage of being quite the powerful mage, with access to dreams and spirits and remnants of things beyond Vesryn's imagination. "But by all means, pass this along to him. And you're welcome. If it will put Saraya at ease, I suppose it will help me, as well."
With excellent timing, the food appeared to be on its way up, and moments later they'd been served, the grumbling in Vesryn's stomach at last about to be put to rest. "I do hope you brought your appetite," he said, slicing off the first bit of his steak and savoring the taste. For what was more or less a military encampment and a fortress, they sure served wonderful food.
āOh, no need to worry about that,ā Estella replied lightly. āI eat enough for a person twice my dimensions, or so my friends are fond of telling me.ā She didnāt do so with particular haste, however, instead carefully cutting into what seemed to be eggplant layered with tomato, cheese, onion, potatoes and some kind of spiced meat, from the smell of it. She chewed the first bit over with a thoughtful expression that morphed quickly into a smile, something nostalgic.
Setting her fork down, she reached for her wine and took a sip, tilting her head to the side as she gently placed it back down. Estella parted her lips as though she meant to say something, but then clearly hesitated. āUmā¦ if you donāt want to answer this, Iād understand, butā¦ could you tell me a little bit of what youāve learned? About Elvhenan? I know some things, but obviously not nearly so much as you do.ā The delicacy of the question was clear indication that she understood the importance of what she inquired after, and the potential faux pas of asking in the first place. She was, after all, human herself.
He was indeed made a bit uncomfortable by the question, but not because of Estella asking it. Rather, he found his answers dissatisfying, in how sparing they really were. For an elf in his position, there was only so much he could actually know, and even then there were things he simply couldn't comprehend, living in this age and lacking the kind of magical expertise that was, quite simply, now gone from the world.
"Well, it wasn't as though I vacationed there," he said, but only barely managing a joking tone. "And sadly, Saraya's experience wasn't idyllic, either. She ended up with her consciousness stored in a vial to preserve her. While belonging to a people that were once immortal." It was something he found profoundly sad. It was also something Saraya refused to think about almost forcefully, and Vesryn rarely chose to press her for information. He couldn't imagine the horror of being trapped inside something for what must've seemed to be eternity. Every time he'd tried to glean the exact reasoning behind it, he was met with disappointment. Perhaps it was simply something he wouldn't understand, or not something she could convey.
"There are the simple things about my people in the days of Arlathan, though. All elves had magic to call upon. Saraya thought me some kind of deformed child when she learned I could cast no spells. I suppose in a certain light, we are, though I try not to see it that way." He rather liked certain aspects of himself, and his lack of magic was not something he felt was a great detriment to him, as a person. As a researcher of his people, it was indeed a stinging lack. "All elves lived slow lives, even after they began to weaken and finally die. They still do, to some extent. Slow to react, slow to decide, always considering."
He wondered for a moment how much was worth telling, how much he could even accurately tell. A rather heavy subject, but he didn't want to disappoint her. "As a society... unique, but not as perfect as some might want to believe. There has never been a society in history without its tensions."
āOf course not,ā she agreed easily, working away slowly at her food. āBut speaking as someone who comes from perhaps the most flawed of them all, I thinkā¦ I think I can say that there never was one without its wonders, either.ā She half-concealed a rueful smile behind her glass. āThough perhaps some are much more wondrous than others.ā Tipping the glass back, she swallowed and exhaled deeply through her nose.
āThank you, for indulging the question. Iāveā¦ā She paused, hesitating again, and then letting herself continue. āIāve always been quite fond of history.ā It was hard to say for sure, but it seemed almost as though that had not been what she meant to say at first. āTruthfully, Iād probably have been some kind of scholar if Iād never left the Imperium. Rather dull by comparison, I suppose...ā
"It's no problem." Vesryn subtly inclined his head in a nod. "I was never interested in history, to be honest, not until it fell right into my head. Not the cheeriest subject for a young elf. I always thought that just listening to it would make me older, shrivel me up like the hahren. No, I spent my days chasing beautiful things, beautiful ideas, and beautiful people." He smiled a little. "Some things don't change."
As they worked their way through dinner, the tavern became livelier still, as more and more filtered in, and the music grew louder, the dancing below picking up speed. Vesryn eyed it hungrily, his appetite apparently not beaten down by the dinner. His eyes flashed back to Estella, mischievously. "I suppose you still don't dance? I should very much like to remedy that, if you've the energy. And if you'd rather not attempt it in the crowd, I have an idea."
He'd always intended to be persistent in this. Despite his apparent successes with women, and men, he was not unused to rejection, and the one she'd dealt him the night of Haven's destruction had indeed only been temporary deterrence. If he was judging things correctly... she needed something like this. Something that had nothing to do with being Inquisitor (even if there was an obvious benefit he could think of in that regard), something that would only produce a few awkward laughs if she failed at it right now. Something that might just rejuvenate her emotionally, or at least combat all the other things in her life that were draining her.
Still, she was reticent for some reason, trepidation flickering over her face before disappearing again. She clearly tried not to express her feelings for too long, as though each one were a little accident, a brief flaw that she quashed as hastily as possible. Even the ones that did break through were only noticeable to those paying attention, something she was likely to be surprised anyone would bother to do. Estellaās glance to the tavern floor was enough to communicate clearly enough that she would not be attempting any such thing down there. āI really donāt,ā she confirmed, but she sighed, returning her full attention to him, her eyes narrowing slightly.
She gave the impression that she was looking for something, but what it was or whether she found it was unclear. āButā¦ whatās this idea of yours?ā
"Well..." he said, clearly being careful with his words, "there are several floors to this tavern, and I've found that the music carries quite well throughout. What we seem to lack is some kind of privacy to learn in. My room isn't large enough, but the third floor has enough space, and is almost always devoid of visitors." There were more boxes up there than anything else. The lighting wasn't the best, but it was good enough. And the music did indeed carry clearly enough. All the sounds and noise of the celebration, and none of the eyes.
Well, just his, but it was impossible to dance with a partner without at least one pair upon you.
"This wouldn't be my first time doing this, you know. Teaching someone to dance." Certainly the first time he would teach anyone of any standing to dance, but that wasn't worth pointing out. He was well aware that she did not enjoy feeling special. That would take much longer to work on. "I can't promise I'll be the most effective teacher, but if we don't think about it too hard, we may end up having some fun with it. That wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"
There was another little glimmer of emotionābewilderment, this time, from the look of itāand Estella shook her head subtly. āIām not going to be a good student,ā she said, quite matter-of-factly, and without the faintest trace of doubt. āActually, Iāll most likely be terrible. Iām notā¦ I canāt imagine itāll be any fun for you.ā Her smile was intentional, a half-curve laden with rueful self-effacement. For all that though, her language itself gave consent, and she set her fork down on her dessert plate with a soft clink. āIf it really doesnāt bother you, thoughā¦ I suppose we could try.ā
"Don't worry about me having fun," he said, sliding his chair back. "I always seem to manage, and you've enough to worry about already." It was a bit tiring at times, he had to admit, the way she refused to place even the slightest bit of confidence in herself. And maybe there was some legitimate underlying evidence for that, but her belief in her own imminent failure was only going to contribute to it. It was disappointing. But that was one small part of why he was doing this. That she'd accepted at all was extremely promising.
Coming around to her side of the table, he offered her his hand, casually, devoid of any sweeping bow or intent to kiss her own or any such overt spectacle. Embarrassing her was painfully easy, and not something he felt he could afford to do right now.
"Shall we?"
Estella placed her hand in his, and stood. āWe shall.ā
It was a lively night in the tavern, and Vesryn could observe nearly everything going on below from the other side of a railing on the second floor. He'd secured an indefinite room for himself just behind where he currently sat, with a lovely view overlooking the training yard, the courtyard down below, and the main hall of the castle itself, situated upon the tallest hill. There were stables down below, nestled into a corner of the walls, and birds rose every so often from the garden, otherwise obstructed from his view by the sturdy walls. The room itself wasn't all that large, but Vesryn didn't spend too much time in it. He was an elf accustomed to always being on the move.
There'd been fairly little moving of late, leading to a great deal of time for Vesryn to think. There was, of course, much to think about. The dead Herald and the dead little bear turned out to be not dead at all, and the Herald was claiming (or at least, not denying) that he was the blood, the descendant, of Andraste herself. Vesryn supposed it could be true; humans had children, after all, and Andraste had some that disappeared. Ultimately it was something neither he nor Saraya had much to say on. The appearance of Andraste was after their particular area of expertise.
Ancient Tevinter magisters, specifically the tools of their trade, however, were more their style. It was a subject Vesryn had ruminated on since the mention of the orb that this Corypheus had carried reached his ears in the war room, the day of Romulus's return. That it was elven he determined within hours. That it had most likely opened the Breach, within the day. Corypheus had been present somehow at the explosion, but how he had survived was not something he could determine, nor could Saraya. Of course, Estella and Romulus had survived somehow, so it was certainly possible for Corypheus to survive as well.
This was not the end of Sarayaās concerns, however, and Vesryn spent the next few days searching for answers as to what troubled her most. When he discovered the cause for her concern, he'd kicked himself for not coming to it sooner.
And thus, Vesryn sat at a small table for two by the railing, overlooking the activity below while he worked on his second goblet of wine. Rather than be too direct about it, heād managed to snare one of the tavernās young elven workers, a girl no more than twelve, and asked her to deliver a note to the Inquisitor. Her face paled at the mention of the word, at which point Vesryn assured her that their Inquisitor was probably the sweetest person sheād ever meet in her life. She obviously didnāt believe him, but the reassurance was enough to get her to take the note. There may have been a promise that the Inquisitor would no doubt find some way to thank her in there as well.
In any case, the girl made her journey up to the big refurbished castle, bearing a well-crafted note that might as well have been from a royal dignitary, for all the effort Vesryn put into it. When one was inviting the busy Inquisitor to dinner, one spared no expense, after all. He didnāt even have any assurance sheād show. Perhaps she was busy, being the Inquisitor somewhere more important. He supposed if he had to, he could hike to her new office himself, but Vesryn much preferred to hope this would work out. Business wasnāt all he wanted to discuss, after all.
It took a fair amount of time for his efforts to yield any results, but yield they did. The Inquisitor slipped into the tavern very much in the manner of someone who desired to do so unnoticed, but was doomed to fail in that respect. After the first couple of greetings, most of the attention in the room had temporarily diverted in her direction, and she stopped moving, shaking her head slightly at the first person who actually attempted to rise and greet her properly. Wearing a small smile, she waved a hand in dismissal, speaking too low to be heard, and he fell back into his seat easily enough, settling for a jaunty salute instead.
That seemed signal enough for the rest, and they went mostly back to what they were doing before, though the volume took a considerable span of time to rise to its previous levels. She glanced around the tavern, clearly seeking him, but when he wasnāt apparent to her, she leaned down to speak in the ear of one of the Lions, who tipped his head back towards Vesrynās vantage point, and she followed the motion with her eyes to where he sat, a trace of bemusement flitting over her features for just a moment before she shrugged to herself and headed for the stairs.
āHello Vesryn, Saraya.ā She came to a stop beside the empty chair, resting a hand on the back of it, inadvertently casting a soft greenish sheen onto the pale wood. āItās been a while.ā Estella looked as though she felt a bit guilty about that, actually.
"Too long," Vesryn agreed. He'd already gotten to his feet by the time she reached the table, and made it over to the chair that awaited her. He eased it out away from the table, well aware that Estella probably didn't want such gestures. He wanted to give them. "But I didn't want to be a distraction until I had something solid to report. You're a busy woman, as I hear it."
It was a bit frustrating at times to be greeted as a pair by those who were aware of his condition, as it were, but Vesryn didn't let it show. He rarely needed to be reminded that he was almost never really alone. Even someone as social as he was sometimes craved a true bit of solitude, and really Saraya could only partially give that to him. He worked back around to his side of the table and sank into the chair, just as the waitress came around to greet them.
"What'll you be having tonight, love?" she asked, clearly acquainted with Vesryn already. He narrowed his eyes in thought.
"I seem to recall the night's special involving steak. Medium-rare, if you will. This place never seems to disappoint."
"Never," she agreed, before turning to Estella, a bit more formally. "And for you, Lady Inquisitor?" A carefully chosen bottle of wine had already been placed on the table, if she wished to share. Naturally, the tavern would do their best to procure anything that she asked for, even if it wasn't on the menu. Such were the benefits of being Inquisitor, even if she didn't want them.
āOh, um.ā Estella paused a moment. āIāve heard you make a nice moussaka here. But itās calledā¦ aubergine casserole? Iād love to try it, please.ā She smiled warmly, then continued. āAnd if youāve anything sweet at handā¦ well, Iām very bad at saying no to dessert. No need to worry if you donāt, though.ā Estella seemed quite aware that anything she said might be interpreted as a demand, given her position, and was evidently at pains to reduce that impression.
With a nod of confirmation and a smile for the both of them, the waitress left, heading back down the stairs to the kitchens, and Estella shifted her attention to Vesryn. āYour messenger was a little shy of me, I think,ā she noted, but a trace of humor appeared over her features. āBut then she found me asleep over my paperwork with ink smudged on my face, which might have helped, embarrassing as it was.ā
Vesryn broke into open laughter, leaning back in his chair. "You poor thing. They're trying to kill you up there, aren't they?" Or maybe she was just doing that to herself. She didn't seem to know how to stop, from what Vesryn had seen. "Well, at least the girl knows now it's not just the little people that go to bed at night exhaustedā¦ or donāt go to bed at all.ā There was a bit of chastisement in there, but Vesryn could hardly judge. His sleeping habits were hardly regular, shifting instead with the events of the day, and the opportunities left to him at night.
"As good as it is to see you, I thought perhaps we could get a bit of business out of the way first. Before the food gets here, at any rate.ā He took another small drink of the wine, wondering briefly if Lady Marceline was responsible for this. Heād have to thank her next time he saw her. "I noted some concerns Saraya had upon hearing of the tool this Corypheus creature carried at Haven. Given the description, and the demonstration of its capabilities, Saraya believes it is elven in nature.ā
Estella contemplated that a moment, filling her silence with activity by taking the opportunity to pour herself half a glass of the wine. She didnāt drink immediately, however, instead reclining back in her chair, brows knit together. āWell then I doubt he came by it honestly,ā she murmured, with a small shake of the head. āOr directly, for that matter. I should like to know how he didā¦ but perhaps thatās not quite so important at the moment.ā She sighed softly, for a moment looking very weary indeed, but it passed hurriedly, as if sheād noticed and corrected it.
āDo you know anything else about the object?ā
"Not much," he admitted. "They channel magic, like a powerful focus, greatly amplifying power. They were not common, even in ancient times. Saraya only knows of them, she was never in a position to use one herself." He believed he had most of that right. There were many things about the orbs he didn't yet understand, but from her uncertainty, the same could be said of Saraya.
"How he came across it, and how he survived the creation of the Breach, are questions that I would like to know the answers to. But you're right, it isn't of great importance just yet." As the evening continued, the floor below was getting livelier, with dancing just beginning now that the music was picking up.
Vesryn watched it briefly, distracted by a short uproar from a newly arrived group of soldiers, greeting some of their friends. "Saraya's concern is that the orb is elven at all, and what may happen if humans at large learn their faith is being threatened by a being wielding elven magic. I know you aren't the kind to jump to conclusions, but sadly people such as you are uncommon. I will admit a bit of concern myself. Humans already need little reason to subjugate elves. I would rather they not have anything they believe truly legitimate." Specifically, he could not help but think of his parents, still dutifully participating in the community of elves in the Denerim Alienage.
Truth be told, Vesryn had never been fond of their choices for him, nor did he feel they influenced his life in much of a positive way, but they were his parents, and they'd at least secured the opportunity for him to have a life at all.
Estella circled the rim of her wineglass with a fingertip, her thoughts having, it seemed, carried her some distance away. She blinked, and her eyes refocused. āAs much as I wish I could disagree, I canāt.ā Lifting her hand, she moved it to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers and her thumb. āThere isnāt any need to circulate the knowledge widely anyway, I should think. If itās all right by you, I want to at least tell Cyrus. He might be able to figure out the rest, or part of it. And then probably a few of the othersā¦ if we know even this much, there might be some way to turn our resources towards learning more. If itās connected to the Breach even just through Corypheus, we should find out as much as we can.ā
Dropping her hand from her face, she settled it into her lap with the other, a wan twist appearing at one corner of her mouth. āI suppose I should have expected everything to get much more complicated before it became any simpler. Thank you, though; this is good to know.ā
"I'm sure Cyrus already has his suspicions, if he's given the matter any thought." It was admittedly a bit annoying to be rivaled in knowledge of his own people by a human that didn't have an ancient elf housed in his mind, but Vesryn supposed Cyrus had the advantage of being quite the powerful mage, with access to dreams and spirits and remnants of things beyond Vesryn's imagination. "But by all means, pass this along to him. And you're welcome. If it will put Saraya at ease, I suppose it will help me, as well."
With excellent timing, the food appeared to be on its way up, and moments later they'd been served, the grumbling in Vesryn's stomach at last about to be put to rest. "I do hope you brought your appetite," he said, slicing off the first bit of his steak and savoring the taste. For what was more or less a military encampment and a fortress, they sure served wonderful food.
āOh, no need to worry about that,ā Estella replied lightly. āI eat enough for a person twice my dimensions, or so my friends are fond of telling me.ā She didnāt do so with particular haste, however, instead carefully cutting into what seemed to be eggplant layered with tomato, cheese, onion, potatoes and some kind of spiced meat, from the smell of it. She chewed the first bit over with a thoughtful expression that morphed quickly into a smile, something nostalgic.
Setting her fork down, she reached for her wine and took a sip, tilting her head to the side as she gently placed it back down. Estella parted her lips as though she meant to say something, but then clearly hesitated. āUmā¦ if you donāt want to answer this, Iād understand, butā¦ could you tell me a little bit of what youāve learned? About Elvhenan? I know some things, but obviously not nearly so much as you do.ā The delicacy of the question was clear indication that she understood the importance of what she inquired after, and the potential faux pas of asking in the first place. She was, after all, human herself.
He was indeed made a bit uncomfortable by the question, but not because of Estella asking it. Rather, he found his answers dissatisfying, in how sparing they really were. For an elf in his position, there was only so much he could actually know, and even then there were things he simply couldn't comprehend, living in this age and lacking the kind of magical expertise that was, quite simply, now gone from the world.
"Well, it wasn't as though I vacationed there," he said, but only barely managing a joking tone. "And sadly, Saraya's experience wasn't idyllic, either. She ended up with her consciousness stored in a vial to preserve her. While belonging to a people that were once immortal." It was something he found profoundly sad. It was also something Saraya refused to think about almost forcefully, and Vesryn rarely chose to press her for information. He couldn't imagine the horror of being trapped inside something for what must've seemed to be eternity. Every time he'd tried to glean the exact reasoning behind it, he was met with disappointment. Perhaps it was simply something he wouldn't understand, or not something she could convey.
"There are the simple things about my people in the days of Arlathan, though. All elves had magic to call upon. Saraya thought me some kind of deformed child when she learned I could cast no spells. I suppose in a certain light, we are, though I try not to see it that way." He rather liked certain aspects of himself, and his lack of magic was not something he felt was a great detriment to him, as a person. As a researcher of his people, it was indeed a stinging lack. "All elves lived slow lives, even after they began to weaken and finally die. They still do, to some extent. Slow to react, slow to decide, always considering."
He wondered for a moment how much was worth telling, how much he could even accurately tell. A rather heavy subject, but he didn't want to disappoint her. "As a society... unique, but not as perfect as some might want to believe. There has never been a society in history without its tensions."
āOf course not,ā she agreed easily, working away slowly at her food. āBut speaking as someone who comes from perhaps the most flawed of them all, I thinkā¦ I think I can say that there never was one without its wonders, either.ā She half-concealed a rueful smile behind her glass. āThough perhaps some are much more wondrous than others.ā Tipping the glass back, she swallowed and exhaled deeply through her nose.
āThank you, for indulging the question. Iāveā¦ā She paused, hesitating again, and then letting herself continue. āIāve always been quite fond of history.ā It was hard to say for sure, but it seemed almost as though that had not been what she meant to say at first. āTruthfully, Iād probably have been some kind of scholar if Iād never left the Imperium. Rather dull by comparison, I suppose...ā
"It's no problem." Vesryn subtly inclined his head in a nod. "I was never interested in history, to be honest, not until it fell right into my head. Not the cheeriest subject for a young elf. I always thought that just listening to it would make me older, shrivel me up like the hahren. No, I spent my days chasing beautiful things, beautiful ideas, and beautiful people." He smiled a little. "Some things don't change."
As they worked their way through dinner, the tavern became livelier still, as more and more filtered in, and the music grew louder, the dancing below picking up speed. Vesryn eyed it hungrily, his appetite apparently not beaten down by the dinner. His eyes flashed back to Estella, mischievously. "I suppose you still don't dance? I should very much like to remedy that, if you've the energy. And if you'd rather not attempt it in the crowd, I have an idea."
He'd always intended to be persistent in this. Despite his apparent successes with women, and men, he was not unused to rejection, and the one she'd dealt him the night of Haven's destruction had indeed only been temporary deterrence. If he was judging things correctly... she needed something like this. Something that had nothing to do with being Inquisitor (even if there was an obvious benefit he could think of in that regard), something that would only produce a few awkward laughs if she failed at it right now. Something that might just rejuvenate her emotionally, or at least combat all the other things in her life that were draining her.
Still, she was reticent for some reason, trepidation flickering over her face before disappearing again. She clearly tried not to express her feelings for too long, as though each one were a little accident, a brief flaw that she quashed as hastily as possible. Even the ones that did break through were only noticeable to those paying attention, something she was likely to be surprised anyone would bother to do. Estellaās glance to the tavern floor was enough to communicate clearly enough that she would not be attempting any such thing down there. āI really donāt,ā she confirmed, but she sighed, returning her full attention to him, her eyes narrowing slightly.
She gave the impression that she was looking for something, but what it was or whether she found it was unclear. āButā¦ whatās this idea of yours?ā
"Well..." he said, clearly being careful with his words, "there are several floors to this tavern, and I've found that the music carries quite well throughout. What we seem to lack is some kind of privacy to learn in. My room isn't large enough, but the third floor has enough space, and is almost always devoid of visitors." There were more boxes up there than anything else. The lighting wasn't the best, but it was good enough. And the music did indeed carry clearly enough. All the sounds and noise of the celebration, and none of the eyes.
Well, just his, but it was impossible to dance with a partner without at least one pair upon you.
"This wouldn't be my first time doing this, you know. Teaching someone to dance." Certainly the first time he would teach anyone of any standing to dance, but that wasn't worth pointing out. He was well aware that she did not enjoy feeling special. That would take much longer to work on. "I can't promise I'll be the most effective teacher, but if we don't think about it too hard, we may end up having some fun with it. That wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"
There was another little glimmer of emotionābewilderment, this time, from the look of itāand Estella shook her head subtly. āIām not going to be a good student,ā she said, quite matter-of-factly, and without the faintest trace of doubt. āActually, Iāll most likely be terrible. Iām notā¦ I canāt imagine itāll be any fun for you.ā Her smile was intentional, a half-curve laden with rueful self-effacement. For all that though, her language itself gave consent, and she set her fork down on her dessert plate with a soft clink. āIf it really doesnāt bother you, thoughā¦ I suppose we could try.ā
"Don't worry about me having fun," he said, sliding his chair back. "I always seem to manage, and you've enough to worry about already." It was a bit tiring at times, he had to admit, the way she refused to place even the slightest bit of confidence in herself. And maybe there was some legitimate underlying evidence for that, but her belief in her own imminent failure was only going to contribute to it. It was disappointing. But that was one small part of why he was doing this. That she'd accepted at all was extremely promising.
Coming around to her side of the table, he offered her his hand, casually, devoid of any sweeping bow or intent to kiss her own or any such overt spectacle. Embarrassing her was painfully easy, and not something he felt he could afford to do right now.
"Shall we?"
Estella placed her hand in his, and stood. āWe shall.ā