CRYSTAL | maybe you should wait.

[poleaxed]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Jone
RECIPIENT: Y'all
NOTES: Comments may be spicy.

Is anybody dreaming of getting back topside? Know I am. Blimey, a sweaty fucking pit, is Orzammar.

We've a tennis court. That's jeu de paume for the rest of you. [Her Orlesian is surprisingly not terrible.] It ought to be finished by the time we're back. I know, I know, you don't like to train in the yard, it hurts your knees or your bloody feelings. That's what the court's for. Let's play a game and get your stamina up, aye?

Noticed we've had some new folk lately, and I wanna say again: I'm Jone, the six-foot-bitch in the training yard with the red hair. I'll train you, and I'll do it right. You ain't for swords, we'll find what you're for. Free fucking service, you only have to make an effort.

Think of it this way: if you work hard enough, get strong enough, one day you'll get to break me nose.

Comments

[elegiaque]

To my knowledge, it was always the latter point that actually mattered. It was never going to be and at no point ever was an indisputable legal victory. You wanted to show off, and you got what you wanted, so I don't know why you're fussing at me now.

[rowancrowned]

The... let us call it ephemeral nature of both myself and the legal permanence of our marriage have always been known to me, as well as your knowledge of why, precisely, it matters to me.

You are my wife. I savor that. If I 'show off', it is only my pride in having you.

[elegiaque]

Literally none of that has anything to do with the farcial pageant we paraded around for Hightown.

[rowancrowned]

You think so?

[elegiaque]

Honestly, Thranduil, what has some stupid game you wanted to play for politics got to do with us? We did a nice thing for Rifters to look normal, it was very nice of me to agree to do it in the first place, and if you're suddenly feeling delicate about it why don't you go and drink some more of my grandfather's wine about it since you've got so much fucking time on your hands lately.

[rowancrowned]

Where in Orzammar are you?

[elegiaque]

I'm busy. You might remember the concept from the extremely long matter of months ago when you often were.

[rowancrowned]

Gwenaëlle, please. Where are you?

in orlesian;

[elegiaque]

Give me one reason that doesn't involve our fucking wedding why I should answer that.

in the same

[rowancrowned]

I am concerned about you. You are never short with me for just one reason.

[elegiaque]

You're concerned about me? I am not the one who has spent the past several months pretending to be on holiday from the pissing war. I don't know what exactly it is you're figuring out, but I really wish you would do it faster because I am understanding Iorveth better every fucking day.

[wythersake]

[rowancrowned]

Several months? Has the work I do become less important because I am no longer the Provost?

Do not bring Iorveth into this.

[elegiaque]

I was under the impression that that would not be the case, and yet I have no idea what work you've been doing and a much better one of how much time you spend in the house. So forgive me if I'm hard pressed not to think he had a point.

[rowancrowned]

We will discuss whatever has been troubling you when we return to Kirkwall.

( in kinder tones: )

Please, Gwenaëlle.

[elegiaque]

I can't wait to hear all about how you're a thousand years old and know so much more than me and are actually right.

[rowancrowned]

Gwenaëlle. Please. When we return to Kirkwall. ( tight. she can probably catch the panic in it. switching to sindarin, not orlesian. ) Whatever has happened, I will make it right.

sindarin, and also orlesian, guess where:

[elegiaque]

Did you just choose a language I don't know the word for cunt in on purpose, or is that a happy accident?

No, you wanted to talk now. Let's talk now.

is it cunt

[rowancrowned]

Beloved, I am worried for you. I would speak when we are not so far apart. We have not fought in months. Had I know giving up my seat would upset you so, I would have spoken about it more with you.

it's cunt.

[elegiaque]

Don't you—

( 'beloved, me' is probably going to be the rest of that. she bites it off. )

I don't care that you aren't the Provost. The title and the office are not important to me. Whatever this, this—

( she switches to orlesian just for the word she can't place, and miraculously it isn't cunt again, ) retirement is, I am not even slightly interested in indefinitely funding. Thrilled you're in Orzammar. Spectacular. I can hardly breathe for you hovering over me otherwise.

[rowancrowned]

You have never complained about holding my attention before. You were always so fond of it.

( fine, he can absolutely calm this down not in person. )

[elegiaque]

( can he. )

At the expense of everything we are actually working for! When Solas has decided to fuck the rest of us and get his like some kind of dick-swinging Flemeth!

[rowancrowned]

( properly snarling now: )

Precisely because of Solas! Because of suspicions that could be cast our way-

[elegiaque]

( in orlesian, BELLOWED: )

You absolute fucking coward!

[wythersake]

[ ugh rude ]