[He's never been a good liar, so he goes with the easy option: sarcasm.]
No, I've clearly developed some sort of thought reading ability and know that you're heading out the door fantasizing about Templar ass.
[That Templar's ass, no less. The one whom he'd given a couple of chances to and had had everything thrown back in his face. Teren deserves better than another person who will probably stab her because they feel like it.]
[To be fair, the last person Teren was into stabbed her several times because she felt like it, so it's not like that's unprecedented.
Her face is incredulous, caught between outrage and something that may even resemble embarrassment, if Teren were capable of feeling such things.]
Well that's-- [she begins, and it dies immediately; if she doesn't know how much he heard, how can she lie about it? Because that's the question here, not whether or not to tell the truth, but how much truth she's being forced to work with.]
You're--
[Her mouth screws up like she wants to say something and can't make it form. She'd demand to know why he was listening, but that would obviously suggest there was something he wasn't supposed to hear, which, in the Shady Person's Handbook, is tantamount to admitting guilt.]
[He's never seen Teren like this, searching for words. There's a little temptation to let her continue to wriggle, and if he didn't like her as much as he did he'd give in. Instead, Anders waves off the half-statements.]
I don't want to talk about her ass. She is an ass, actually, so it's likely you think her very--no. No. Anyone else I'd be all for gossip about, but I'm going to ignore...
[He trails off and waves his hands again, as if to distance them from the topic of Wren.]
How much information did you keep from Nate might be the better question, in light of your answer to her.
[Normally, even when caught in something, Teren will stand there and weather it without shrinking away. That's technically what she's doing now, resisting pinching the bridge of her nose or bolting, simply glowering at Anders as her mind clearly goes a thousand miles a minute to try and keep ahead of him. Her face is too dark to color much, but there's a bit of redness to it that wasn't there before.]
...what?
[His question stops the gears for a moment. She certainly has kept things from Nate, many things, but none of them are relevant to the conversation upon which Anders has so rudely eavesdropped.]
I came to knock as she asked what you'd do if a warden was keeping information from you, and you said you'd have them thrashed. Or you'd thrash them, one of the two.
[There will probably be a reckoning for this later. Anders isn't actually serious about what she's hidden from Nate, because he's hoping she's changed from when he went to intercede and is treating his husband better, but he might be enjoying her inability to answer ever so slightly.
...not probably. She will almost definitely make him pay later, but at least he'll survive it.]
[Teren blinks once, then twice, and what little color was just pooling in her cheeks abruptly drains. Her eyes even go a little glassy as she connects the dots-- oh, yes, that is what she said. And that is... what... has happened. Yes. She looks gingerly down at Anders, as though suddenly realizing he's been a venomous snake this whole time. Not necessarily one that's even interested in biting, let alone killing, but it's time to move slowly and carefully.]
[She's gone pale, like she's... afraid? That's about the last reaction he'd wanted to inspire in her; he's spent so much time afraid that making someone he cares about possibly fear him cuts deep. The slight amusement he'd been feeling curdles in his stomach as his brows draw together in his worry.]
I'm not... I'm not threatening you. Yes, I'd like you to be honest with my husband, but I'm not saying I'm, I'm going to use this, or something. I'm even against thrashing in general. I've been thrashed. Thoroughly. Multiple times. You don't... Please stop looking at me like I'm going to hurt you.
[Some part of Teren is touched by how quickly Anders suddenly folds, another part is abruptly furious, and yet a third is just mindlessly relieved. She sighs and slumps against the doorframe, pressing two fingers to her temple as though trying to quiet her pulse, Teren you idiot, what did you think would happen?
The danger has temporarily passed, but there's a lot to process here. There's one especially pressing question, which Teren vocalizes, looking at Anders as though she'd rather be anywhere but here, having this conversation.]
I came to ask after your kit, see if you needed any potions refilled, heard the talking and...
[He shrugs. The storm seems to have passed, though he's got plenty to think about for later. Some of it uncomfortable, too. Teren could do so much better. Should do so much better. Then again, one of her former lovers had stabbed her in front of him. Maybe she just had bad taste.]
[She certainly doesn't have safe taste, but anyone could say that about Teren. If only he'd known her when she was younger, seen how she'd do things just because they were rebellious and wrong, it might be all the clearer that some parts of people never change.]
It's fine.
[She waves him off with her other hand, still pressing her forehead with the other.]
The kit's fine. I have to go.
[Finally closing the door behind her, Teren steps out around Anders, tense and gloomy like a dog who's just been given a bath. She makes it several strides away before she stops, and, hating herself for it, turns.]
Are you going to tell him, [she asks dully.
No one chafes under authority more than Teren, and even if she hasn't strictly broken any rules here, she's always able to guess at how things will play out. It may not be life and death, but it will be a nuisance.]
[He doesn't watch her go, losing himself in thoughts until she speaks again. There's not an easy answer to her question, and Anders frowns for a moment.]
Are you still hiding things from him that would impact how he does his job?
[Being a good leader means so much to Nate. Anders is therefore a little invested in this answer, though he'd never imply that she should be beaten for leaving something out.]
[She watches him for a moment, considering. Finally,]
I don't know.
[Her life sufficiently tangled in falsehoods that, at this point, Teren can't confidently give an answer to that. There are things she hides every waking moment of her life, and for all she knows, they might be useful to Nate.
But in a way, there's pride in that. She will always be her own, no matter what blood she drinks or to whom she reports. Giving a weary shrug of one shoulder, she turns and continues away. Anders can draw his own conclusion. It's the best she can do.]
[He'll have to take it. At least it doesn't seem like she's doing it to spite Nate anymore. He watches her go this time before his mouth overrides his brain.]
Please be careful around her.
[Anders doesn't trust Wren as far as he could throw Boots. Not like that's entirely uncommon when it comes to Templars, but she's in a special category for him.]
[ the servants kindly provided water and gauze, but getting out of hightown with her face pulped is still an exercise in frustration and scrutiny (and probably cosmic justice, for her threats to thranduil).
the crystal comes out at last some ways into lowtown, where if she yet draws a few eyes, they're glared back more quickly. she really doesn't want to do this. but, ]
Do you know if Warden Anders is in today?
[ definitely not someone speaking through intact nostrils ]
[She could have Wren come to her room, but then Wren would see where she lives and therefore know things about her, and also there's always the chance Anders will show up and make That Face, and frankly Teren doesn't want to deal with any of it.]
Go to the spare room.
[You know, the one with all the furniture you broke.]
if it irritates — just a touch — that they've been at it this long and she's still being shuffled off to a glorified storage closet, well, there's pride again, and what good's it ever done? at least this way, no one will be able to hear her curse.
the downside of destroying most of the furniture in the room (others long since sent to haul away the scrap) is that there's really still only the one table left to perch on. she hunches, holds her face, and tries to focus very hard on cade's basic worthiness as a human being.
[Teren takes her sweet time. Perhaps it's because she knows Wren will wait, and enjoys messing with her on that level. Perhaps she has other reasons.
Either way, it appears Wren isn't the only person who's had a face-altering situation, because when Teren lets herself in she's got a strip of cloth wrapped around her head to cover one eye. It's not a bandage anymore, the wound has healed as much as it's going to, but that doesn't mean people need to see it.
She strolls in like she owns the place, as ever, cracking a tiny smirk at seeing Wren perched so expectantly on the desk.]
[ shrewd as ever, is the sort of thing you say to someone you're not hoping will fix your face. it's the sort of thing (she's quite certain) that teren would say anyway.
but that may not be working out for her either. she can't quite help it when she smirks, the answering twitch of her mouth aside. it quickly draws sharp to glance the cloth — and a wince for that in turn. you never properly appreciate moving your face until it's too late.
she peels her hands away gingerly for a better look. ]
I wanted to formally apologize for trying to take your letters. Now that I'm a member of the Inquisition, I'll be doing my thieving for good instead of evil, so I'll just steal letters from the Venatori from now on. If you ever take on pupils who don't want to be Wardens? I'd love to learn from you because you are the scariest old lady rogue I have ever met, and I grew up in Kirkwall so that's saying something.
Either way, sorry again, and thanks for handing me over to Scout Master Ashara.
[Teren takes a step forward, inspects Wren's face for a moment, resembling a bird looking for exactly the right place to peck. Then, without any warning, she grips Wren's chin with her left hand and uses the right to crack the offending nose back into place. Just as quickly, she steps away and folds her hands behind her back, looking very pleased with herself. It worked, like it always does.]
Page 7 of 14