Alexandrie waves her hand dismissively, droplets of water flicking off of her fingers, "There are more sights to be seen in the city than what floats about on the surface. Always something else to be found. I count myself lucky that your performances were one of those I had the luck to come across!
Tell me," she asks with some interest, "do you continue here in Kirkwall? Or are we all to languish forevermore without the benefit of such fan kicks?"
Though Fifi has learned to take the adulation of humans with a grain of salt, she can't help but smile a little, flattered by the lady's words. She holds the towels in front of her, looking down and self-consciously tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear. "I have not found the time," she admits, "and perhaps some things in life are better left behind." Like many parts of Val Royeaux, and Orlais in general.
"I suppose it would be a pity if I had to soften my constant criticism of the performers here because you had joined their ranks," Alexandrie replies impishly, and then heaves a deep and meaningful sigh. "It shall be our secret, then.
"What wind brought you to Kirkwall, if not the call of the Inquisition?" she asks with some curiosity, "I certainly should never have left Val Royeaux to come here without it."
Of course, they may as well have lived in different cities.
Fifi's eyes go distant for a moment, her lips pursed as she considers her answer. It's not an easy one on any account, and perhaps best not shared with an Orlesian aristocrat in the home of her employer. "It was the Inquisition's wind," she says after a time, offering a half-smile, "among other things. I like to think the world could become a better place, with its efforts." Meanwhile, she's folding towels.
A considered answer means there is more to it than that, of course, but in Alexandrie's experience elves employed as servants are both adept at insistent evasion and tend to remember and either avoid or become even more unyielding with those who are keen to ferret information out from them.
She has enough to think on, for now.
"Quite so," she agrees, instead. "It is indeed becoming a formidable force for change, even as its focus remains on the defense of Thedas." She flicks at the water thoughtfully, and then brightens and makes a query as if thinking of it for the first time, "Ah! Does this position of yours mean you will be joining us in Tevinter?"
Fifi nods to the lady's observation, but her question causes a paling of the freckled face as the maid is caught quite off-guard. "Oh-- no-- no, Madame," she stutters, and smiles faintly after, able to see the humor in her own response: "I've no desire, and-- well there's plenty to do here in the lords' absence." She's careful not to say 'masters', as the term is quite loaded and all too commonly spoken amongst the Tevinter-native staff. Fifi is a wilted flower in some ways, but regardless of the work, she'll always see that she gets her pay.
She has no desire? Well that's some autonomy. The benefit of working with the Inquisition?
"It certainly is quite the estate," Alexandrie agrees, "I imagine it takes a great deal of effort to keep it looking so well." She examines her fingers and makes a face at the wrinkles forming from soaking, sighing with truly unneedful sorrow. "How terrible, I am becoming an old woman. Do pass me a towel?"
"It does," Fifi agrees with a small sigh, and turns to retrieve a towel, which she brings over to Lexie and holds out to her. "Would you like me to stay, Madame?" she asks. Some people are particular about being seen in the buff; having lived in a whorehouse, Fifi has seen everything.
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Tell me," she asks with some interest, "do you continue here in Kirkwall? Or are we all to languish forevermore without the benefit of such fan kicks?"
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"I have not found the time," she admits, "and perhaps some things in life are better left behind." Like many parts of Val Royeaux, and Orlais in general.
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"What wind brought you to Kirkwall, if not the call of the Inquisition?" she asks with some curiosity, "I certainly should never have left Val Royeaux to come here without it."
Of course, they may as well have lived in different cities.
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"It was the Inquisition's wind," she says after a time, offering a half-smile, "among other things. I like to think the world could become a better place, with its efforts." Meanwhile, she's folding towels.
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She has enough to think on, for now.
"Quite so," she agrees, instead. "It is indeed becoming a formidable force for change, even as its focus remains on the defense of Thedas." She flicks at the water thoughtfully, and then brightens and makes a query as if thinking of it for the first time, "Ah! Does this position of yours mean you will be joining us in Tevinter?"
What manner of servant are you, mademoiselle?
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She's careful not to say 'masters', as the term is quite loaded and all too commonly spoken amongst the Tevinter-native staff. Fifi is a wilted flower in some ways, but regardless of the work, she'll always see that she gets her pay.
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"It certainly is quite the estate," Alexandrie agrees, "I imagine it takes a great deal of effort to keep it looking so well." She examines her fingers and makes a face at the wrinkles forming from soaking, sighing with truly unneedful sorrow. "How terrible, I am becoming an old woman. Do pass me a towel?"
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