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[untiltheyarent]

[Verbal correspondence and scenes only! Ya girl can't read.]

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[cozen]

Yseult told me.

[ By executive fiat, her current work is dusting, and Bastien extracts a handkerchief from his pocket to join her, one shelf over so he won't be in the way. ]

I thought we were friends.

[ He's not bothering to pretend looking upset. He's delighted. ]

[untiltheyarent]

[When she takes his meaning, Fifi goes very still, all at once: her rag, mid-swipe on the desk, her eyes down.

Then she turns to face him in her delicate, trained-dancer way-- and he's smiling, but Bastien doesn't always mean it when he smiles-- she watches him, measured, with the air of a rabbit frozen in a predator's sight: quite tellingly, she does not immediately smile back. She's only good at lying when she isn't already caught.]

[cozen]

[ His head twitches into a curious tilt at the way she's looking at him. The smile doesn't go anywhere. ]

I won't tell anyone else. And neither will she, I'm sure.

[ He's special. He's the closest thing Yseult has to a peer. ]

But I think you should tell everyone. I mean, I think you should join Scouting outright. Get a uniform and a little pin. Come to meetings. Do some field work. You would be good at it.

[untiltheyarent]

[Fifi's anxiety seems to abate, if only slightly: Bastien has never been unkind to her before, and though she doesn't know why Yseult would tell him, she has to trust it was for good reason.]

I, [she says with a fluttery, uncertain smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes,] I don't think so.

[She's still caught off-guard, which translates easily to scared; life has not been forgiving of her missteps, and what is this if not a misstep?
The smile drifts off, her face ashen, shamed.]

I'm sorry I kept it from you.

[cozen]

[ He shrugs, still dusting. ]

That is the work. You think I'm not keeping anything from you?

[ He thinks: he should have dug into it after those dreams. The ones where she was tangled up with Fen'Harel somehow. But she doesn't seem to be in any state to take that commentary in good humor. ]

I am not angry, Fifi. I think you are clever and subtle and you should be proud.

[untiltheyarent]

[She almost laughs-- he's right, of course, and it's funny, in its way, that this is how things are. But even as her face trembles into a smile, a tear slips from her eye that she hastily brushes away.
The tension of it, the fear: she'd never have the courage to face anyone more aggressive than Bastien.]

Thank you.

[Fifi's mouth twists in the way of one trying to keep it still, and she watches him almost longingly-- dare she initiate a hug? She needs one.]

I, [she says softly,] find it easier to not think about it at all.

[cozen]

[ Reading faces is what he does (narrative hints permitting). Longing doesn't automatically lead into for a hug, but it's enough of a hint for him to try it in stages. A hand on her shoulder first, then all the way around to pull her in, chin on her head.

He doesn't respond right away, but eventually he asks over the top of her head, ]

Had you done anything like it before Riftwatch?

[untiltheyarent]

[She embraces him tightly, trusting, and gives her head a little shake into his shoulder.]

I had-- grand visions of it, [she admits, face growing hot with the memory of her foolishness,] when I went to the Freemen. My Jacques was no fighter, so perhaps I would be, for him.

[Has she mentioned Jacques to Bastien? If not, might as well: she owes him the truth about one thing, at least.]

But though free, they were still nobility. I was set at once to cleaning up their messes.

[Pulling out of the hug, she perches back against the desk, eyes downcast and weary.]

...it's what we do, isn't it. They didn't even ask what I was good at.

[cozen]

[ She's mentioned Jacques. Not much, but enough for Bastien not to be surprised that he existed and that he was hers and to focus more on the rest of it, watching her with a sympathetic furrow between his eyebrows as she retreats to the desk.

There'd been a time—a few entire weeks—when news of the Freemen filled him with hope. No crown, no nobles. (The no Inquisition came later, and who could really blame them for it?) Refusing to die for any of them anymore. What a world.

So of course it was poisoned from the start. ]

It's not a better world if it isn't just as good for you, [ to allow himself a touch of poetry. For much less of it: ] And they were stupid.

[untiltheyarent]

[Her laugh is mild, sad; but there's affection in her eyes as she meets Bastien's.]

For either of us, [she amends,] being a human is hardly protection in itself.

[If it were, Jacques would be alive, and Bastien wouldn't have spent his life hiding.]

They were stupid. [A melancholy smirk,] but the power was still theirs.

[cozen]

Yeah.

[ Will it always be? Maybe. Sometimes it all seems insurmountable.

He puts his hands in his pockets. ]

Did you go to the Freemen with him? Or after—

[ Bastien knows Jacques didn't come out of the war alive, but not which part of it killed him. For him could mean several different things. ]

[untiltheyarent]

Oh,

[a pause. Perhaps she hasn't told Bastien all that much about Jacques. It's strange to think, standing here now, how long they've known each other and how little she knows about him, aside from surface-level observations and pleasant chatter.]

After, [she explains gently,] I thought there might be vengeance for him in their cause. But he and his like were commoners, not what it was about.

[A sigh.] Where were you, during the war? [her smile is tired, but a bit hopeful:] Did the monarchy keep their hands off you?

[cozen]

[ He nods. Distracted, still, by what she's said, but he unsticks from it to answer, ]

I faked a limp.

[ A poor target for press gangs. ]

And it worked out for me. I got out of the Game just before it started, and it was—a kind of cover, I suppose. Everything was in chaos. My friends assumed that was what had happened to me, the war or the riots. No one was looking for me anymore when I came back to Val Royeaux. I passed some of them in the street and their eyes went right through me.

Of course, [ dropping his voice, because it's a secret, ] I am very good.

[untiltheyarent]

[A wry smile, almost amused-- it's very Bastien, and although it might be easy for some to get angry that he evaded the war so easily when others didn't, all it really means is that he's clever.]

To disappear so easily has its upsides. [but,]

You'd no family holding out hope?

[cozen]

[ Bastien shakes his head, arranges his mouth to say something, shakes his head again, and says instead: ]

They'd been gone for a long time.

Was it only Jacques, for you? Did you have any other family left?

[untiltheyarent]

[a silent nod, acknowledging the meaning of that: no family, not for a long time. rather than poke at it, she moves on, but a piece or two of the Who Bastien Is puzzle start to click into place.]

My father still lives out in the plains, [she confirms,] a shepherd. I'm going to try to visit him soon, with the eluvian.