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FORM: sending crystal
SENDER: Val de Foncé (and with him, as always, is Jehan Mercier)
RECIPIENT: e v e r y o n e
WHAT: the scholars of Orlais have something to say.
WHEN: now, right now
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: aren't they charming.

Inquisition, we are confused.

[Melodious, Orlesian, flirtatious (somehow even in this most simple of sentences): these are three words one might use to describe the sound of Val's voice. It makes confused sound kind of fun, if a bit puzzling.]

My friend and I have come all this way to be an asset to you. And now we have arrived here, to your Skyhold, and we find so much to be in want. How have you all managed so far, with these conditions? I am a man used to the roughness of a camp, a life of travel. I love this life. You'll find no one loves it more than me. But a camp, that is one thing, and this? It is meant to be a city, of a sort. Yet there is no apartment for us. There is barely a work space, in your library--we have been, my friend and I. We have seen the conditions. There is barely a book there.

I am sorry for you, Inquisition.

[So sincere. A pause, in which he has pressed a hand to his chest, in a deep show of pity. And then, briskly, cheerfully:]

But we will not leave you there, in sorrow. The good news. You now have, among your numbers, me. An introduction: Valentine de Foncé, a master architect, among many other masteries, too numerous to name. If you ask sweetly, I'll tell you them all. If you ask very sweetly, I'll give demonstration. And for the Inquisition, I will offer my services, and my knowledge--and so, too, does my friend. If only so we can get a decent space in which we can do our work. And believe me: you want this. We have arrived to be your greatest blessing.

Now, tell me. With business sorted: what does anyone do for fun around here?

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[And there it was, a twinge of uncertainty and possibly regret. She stilled the fingers in her hair looking at Val carefully.]

What is it that you have in mind?

[Impeccably, he keeps up his smile, without a hint of weakness to it.]

You're not worried, are you?

[One brow twitches down as she pulls her hand from her hair to rest them on the table, trying her best not to give any additional nervousness away.]

Cautious is a better word. You have a particular knack it seems with aggrieving others in Skyhold. I'd prefer not to do the same with my fellow compatriots.

Yet I seem to have charmed you, enough to at least win the chance to meet you. Doesn't that imply at my abilities beyond aggravation? Or maybe it's you that charmed me, and encouraged behavior enough in me for this happy meeting. You are the mage of the two of us. If any can be charming, I think it must be you.

[And before the topic can swing back around again, to whatever he intends, Val asks:] Do you want a drink?

[--Without breaking the stride of conversation at all, as if this thought is connected most naturally to all the thoughts previous.]

Edited (innocently adjusts typo srry) 2016-07-19 21:17 (UTC)

[Was it unusually warm in the tavern? Perhaps she was too close to the fire? It had been much easier talking and even pitting wits against him when she didn't know what he looked like.]

A drink would be nice, yes. [Any opportunity to settle her nerves.] I'm not the only one with charm or else I wouldn't be here, but you already know that. I doubt I need to extoll your virtues. Besides, I don't think I have quite the same skill for it.

[Proof to her point, Val's smile remains very charming. Sorry; not sorry.]

You should try. How will you become skilled unless you practice? I willingly submit myself to your study at becoming charming. You can compliment me, extoll me, praise me... [He stands up, and grabs for his mug.] ...And we will start after I have fetched you a drink. Wine, or ale? To warn you, the wine here is terrible.

[To Orlesian tastes, anyways, but he doesn't even give it the benefit of the doubt. Roundly and fully terrible for no reason other than it is.]

[In spite of everything, Sadira cracks a smile and even manages an eye roll.]

Very well, I will endeavor to praise you after a drink. [She wrinkles her nose.] You say the wine is terrible, but I am fairly sure the ale is also no better than dishwater. Turn your nose up at it all you want, but I will take terrible wine over dishwater any day.

You've never had Orlesian wine, have you? If you'd had, you would know: dishwater is always a better choice, when your other choice is piss.

[He touches his fingertips to his forehead and bows his head just slightly, a deferential salute.]

But as you say. Pisswine for you, dishwater ale for me. Two separate miseries. And I'll need extra praise for sitting at the same table as your misery.

[Two steps backwards, a wink. Then he spins on his heel and goes striding over to the bar, to fetch this drink order. It's a little crowded, but it still takes Val no time at all. People like serving him drinks. Part of his charmed existence. He's striding back with the drinks in hand, within minutes.]

Alas, not all of us have lived in the lap of luxury. It will be your responsibility then to show me a good wine and allow me a taste. Until then, it shall be as they say: misery loves company. We will be in good hands this day.

[When he presents his back to her, she sticks her tongue out at him making a face, though it doesn't last as a grin sneaks out almost immediately after. When he returns, she is sitting calmly, observing the others around her with a casual eye. In a few minutes away, she;d used a meditational technique to try and calm her nerves.]

[With a flourish, Val presents the cup of wine that he has secured for his newly composed companion.]

Mademoiselle. Vin de pisse, precisely as was ordered. No charge. Except--

[With one foot, he gracefully eases his chair out again and slips into the space with a smile--and without spilling a drop of beer.]

--for a compliment, of course. Shall we toast first?

[Holding out her hand, she takes the cup from him, holding it aloft for the toast while he settles himself.]

I can't think of a finer price to pay than that. You'll just have to bear with me on my poor praise until I've learned to be as eloquent and certain as you.
[Naturally, praise comes unbidden when she isn't thinking about it.]

As for a toast, shall we celebrate our newfound camaraderie? Or would you rather celebrate egos?

I would rather celebrate you.

[He lifts his cup to hers, and presses the edge to the edge of hers, with a smile.]

And, since you have declined to act as my ego, I suppose that means we must drink to celebrate our camaraderie. May it last very, very long, and bring us both great happiness. Satisfaction. And so on.

To this new friendship, may it continue to be an exciting endeavor between us.

[Sadira clinks her glass to his before taking a nice long sip to steel her resolve. A resolve that was already cracking not even a minute after he was back at the table.]

I know I'm supposed to heap lavish praise upon you-- and I shall start doing so momentarily. But I have to ask because my curiosity won't be sated, but why would you wish to celebrate me? I'm not asking to garner praise for myself, but rather I wish to understand the person that sits before me.

Mm--

[--Val says, since he's still sipping. He holds up one finger--a moment, please!--swallows, sets down his cup, folds his hands neatly on the table between them, and leans forward to confide to her:]

A premonition.

[That gets her to scoff softly as she takes another sip of her wine. Not a wine connoisseur, she at least judges the wine at Skyhold to be passable if only slightly sour.]

You're having me on. A premonition?

[Her eyebrow rose up skeptically.]

[Without blinking, with an unwavering smile, Val stays right where he is. Hands folded, politely.]

So hard to believe?

[Swirling her cup slightly, perhaps in the off chance it might somehow magically make the wine taste better, she raised an eyebrow up further, debating for a moment if she should indulge him.]

Far be it from me to say you lack the ability to see the future. However, as far as I am aware such magic does not exist. If it did, it would no doubt fall under the purview of hedge magic. Then again I could simply be over thinking this.

[It took an effort to shrug, but she still tried her best to look nonchalant.]

[Val keeps his composure for a moment more. Same position, same smile. Then all at once he heaves a mighty sigh and falls back against his chair, grabbing up his mug of ale as he does.]

Alas. If only I had such a skill. I have wished every day since before I can remember to have some magic, however small and infinitesimal, reveal itself in me. And I find myself constantly disappointed. Of all the skill I have, this one I cannot acquire. And I want it. Do you know, how maddening that is?

[For a moment, the juxtaposition was so strong, all she could do was stare.]

I might have some inkling of how you feel. [She swished her drink again and then took another sip.] I once prayed every night to Andraste and the Maker to take my magic from me.

A similar sentiment. Which I appreciate.

[Enough to sit up, anyways.]

Of course, I understand yours less. But so that also means, that you are correct. I do not have the gift of magical premonition. What I do have is a good sense that I will like you very much, which, as it presents itself, can seem like a sort of premonition.

In fact, you should mark this day. In a year we will celebrate its anniversary.

I look forwards to that day.

[She grins a little, not at all surprised that he felt that way. The smile only grew, along with her amusement.]

As for understanding, perhaps this might help: To those on the outside looking in, everything often appears better. Were you a mage, chances are you would not nearly be as learned in your other fields, nor traveled. And it is entirely possible that you'd not be as silver-tongued as you are now. I think you're best the way you are.

[Chuckling, she again sipped her wine. The taste wasn't bad now that her tongue was either adjusting, or her taste buds were dying.]

Perhaps.

[But he does not sound very convinced, or the least bit interested in being convinced--because he doesn't believe her, yes, because he doesn't actually care, also yes--but all of that is quite bundled up with his keen interest in a more interesting topic, which glosses over the more unpleasant dismissive aspects of that perhaps and prompts him to lean forward, with a grin.]

You can say more on how I am best the way that I am. I think that is a more valuable topic of conversation than such debates. Or you can say that you will help me in my research.

I would, of course, prefer that you say both. Help, and compliments. An attractive combination.

[She isn't surprised in how he changes the topic-- the shift was certainly preferable. A soft snort, accompanied by a smirk is her first answer before she speaks.]

I need to know more about you to lavish praise appropriately. However, such a task wouldn't be so unpleasant. You have a certain charm about you. I might be willing to help with your research as well, depending on just what you're studying. If you're still intent on comparing me to my fellow mages, it might take awhile. There are a few of us lurking about.

If you are telling me this to discourage me, dear Sadira, you will find yourself disappointed. The more mages we have for this comparison, the better it will be. Not only that, it will be more accurate. Wider sampling can only deepen our understanding of our results.

And-- [He leans his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his hand, with a grin that can only be described as lazy and self-assured--] --the more time that we spend with one another, the more equipped you will be to lavish such compliments. It is as you say. So we should work together, to encourage this, and to give you a fair chance--or else you will have to base all your complimenting on my surface alone.

Feel free to do so, of course. It is a very handsome surface, with its certain charm. In case you haven't noticed.

[She shakes her head, again sending her curls bouncing as she laughs.]

It will take a lot of time to go through all the mages. More are arriving every day. Besides wouldn't you rather do something more for the Inquisition, such as helping to acquire a better library or making Skyhold look pretty?

[She leaned forwards as well, setting her cup of half-filled wine down.]

How could I not notice?! Having met your surface only recently, I can agree that it is indeed of fine workmanship. And it is in equal keeping with that clever mind of yours.

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This is what happens when I tag with a headache XD

no worries!!!! ugh i know the feeling for sure. hope it is better.

I am indeed feeling better, pain meds do wonders.

good!!! and gj modern medicine

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