"I wonder what the difference was." Compartmentalization at its finest: looking back academically rather than emotionally. She has shoved everything she felt about those few days into a box and tucked it under a dresser in the lowest portion of her mind where she never needs to think about it or look at it ever again. Or.
She wouldn't if Anders wasn't being so rationally unfair.
"If that had happened, you've a letter." Almost everyone she knows has one written. "Updating it has become wearying."
"A letter. Yes, that solves everything. 'Anders, here are possible replacements, don't touch the tea because I'm only calling you De-de and acting friendly when I'm drunk or might die so you still don't get to share my tea since that's not work, dying before you're not possessed any longer doesn't mean I didn't keep my word, civilly yours, Adelaide.' How close is that? That will certainly make up for days of fear and worrying and telling myself that no news had to be good. Can you just... I'm tired of being thing and friend alternately to you and clearly I've fallen to thing again but I don't want to."
And that's the heart of it. He never knows where he stands on any given day, and it's exhausting.
"I don't call things when I fear I am going to die." Or be lost forever in the fade. "You- you are being unreasonable. You know what your name carries, you know what our association costs me."
And yet it is coin she pays every day to keep her word, to mind him, and perhaps to attempt to reconcile what she knew before with the man he is now. The man he'd always been. It is that memory alone that has her calm rather than rising her voice, that has her exaspirated more than anything else. "You cannot ignore that, You do so, willfully, every day and act as though you have always been Detlef, you never did the things that you are hated for, and while that is how you cope and I do not begrudge it of you I am exhausted by the implication that I must drop everything and forgive you in your entirety when it is not that simple. You are not a thing. But this is complicated. Stop pretending that it isn't."
She sinks back in her chair, fingers combing through Remi's fur.
"And I never sign letters 'civilly yours'. It implies that I am uncivil otherwise."
The look he gives her is more confused than anything, now."The implication that you should forgive me was in the fight you challenged me to. The terms were there. Fight it out, and leave the grudge behind. Not everything is simple, but that was. You didn't have to challenge me. You didn't have to choose to maintain an association. I appreciate that you did, but you didn't give your word to, to 'mind' me. And I don't ignore what I've done or who I am. I couldn't if I tried."
He exhales, leaning against a table. "I walk up here every day I'm in Skyhold to a mess of glares. If I snap back when someone lashes out the glares get worse, if I keep my mouth shut they get smug. In the tent, yes. I act like I'm just a healer, because I need to be just a healer sometimes. I act like I've shut things out and work and try to be a person because the day I give up is the day it's just Justice left and that's not fair to anyone who has put themselves on the line for me." But sometimes it's tempting. Sometimes it's very, very tempting.
"In your entirety. I can and have forgiven you for the lie." Against her better judgement at that. "It is still difficult to forgive you for the bombing of the chantry."
It is something she suspects she will never quite forgive him for, but that is neither here nor there. "You are yourself a massive complication and I am still a public figure- I suppose it is too much to have thought Nathaniel shared this with you, I already had this conversation with him for the grief he gave me."
She has a right to be wary with her regard. She has earned it twice over. Trice, now, with Bruce. "I do not have the luxury of acting on my own, for my own. My life is not entirely my own and while I did not want this, it is the job that was given to me and I will fulfill my duties to the best of my ability. That means minding whom I keep close. Especially since my track record is even more shit than I previously anticipated."
As he can't forgive himself for the Chantry either, no matter how he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if he'd done nothing, he can't really blame her for still holding that against him. The rest, though...
"I didn't know you'd spoken with Nate about your position." It's not an apology, but it's an acknowledgement, at least.
"I'm not going anywhere. We came back here instead of staying up North. This... complication... isn't going to vanish. The public figure position isn't going to go away because you feel fulfilled in it. There will not be anything that I can do to become less of a complication, or atone for the Chantry. That's not changing. What does seem to change is where I stand, and for every glimmer of hope I see there's something else that shuts it down, so I'm left with no idea. Is it truly unreasonable to want some sort of... stability? To find some way to be close again? I don't know what's happened with your track record now, but I--"
He blinks. "I was going to say I can't do worse than I have, but that sounds awful and dismissive, and I don't want to be dismissive. I want to figure this out and I miss you."
"I'm not asking you to go, Anders. I'm asking you to be patient." This is a delicate matter and as much as she misses Detelf- Anders is and isn't him. He is and he is the spirit that is sabotaging her attempts to cure him. How can she look upon him as a friend when, perhaps, Asher had the right of it. That splitting them up only doubles the problem, when both likely corrupted the other just as much? It is complicated. And she is so very tired of complications. Of lies.
But Anders has promised to be truthful and that, at least, she can hold him to.
"Bruce is a mage." Shocker. He lied. She thought, perhaps, they'd been close but this only goes to show that she trusts far too easily. Dealing with that and facing Anders now-
She sighs. "We are- you are not nothing, De-De. But I cannot accept all of you because half of you, I am certain, would rather I not be involved at all, for all that I am working to free him."
He's quiet for several moments, picking at a nail. It might be telling that he doesn't even act startled when she calls Bruce mage, but he'd given his word not to deceive her again.
"Thank you," Anders finally says before looking up. "I can be patient. And the other half... never seems to be able to make up his mind about you. That you're assisting with the rituals he dislikes, but not as much as he approves of the work you do. He likes you more than he likes most people, though I know that's little comfort."
She notices. She notices, blinks slowly at him, and murmurs. "You knew."
Whether or not that dipped into his promise not to lie- but Bruce had been lying this time. For whatever reason, Bruce chose to hide this from everyone. Kalli she had not begrudged this, and there are other mages that would do the same if they could.
It felt like a deeper cut, somehow, coming from Bruce. She'd thought-
It doesn't matter what she thought. "As I said. Shit track record."
"He helped me watch over a patient when I was exhausted and I promised not to tell anyone. Even though he assaulted me as soon as my own secret came out."
He exhales. "I gave my word on that. But Bruce's lie isn't your fault, any more than mine is. I'd nearly everyone fooled, he had everyone fooled. And everyone has secrets. Some are more volatile than others, but again. Not your fault. Is he fully outed, or is it just to the two of us now?"
"Seeing as he helped me tear the legs off of a demon the size of a small fortress I'd be surprised if no one else saw. We were not exactly subtle." And she is not keeping Bruce's secret for him. He owes her.
He owes her more than she knows how to call in- far too angry still to consider much of anything. "I am going to have Dorian vet anyone new I might decide to befriend. His judgement seems relatively sound."
Is Bruce completely revealed, then? Not just the mage part? Tearing off the legs of a demon seems rather... intensive. He hesitates, also wondering if not saying more is lying by omission at this point. Finally he shakes his head.
"I can't tell if you know or not from what you're saying, but there's another secret there too. I'm not... I'm not sworn to secrecy on it, I didn't give my word not to tell, but I ask you not to ask me what it is, please. I'm only mentioning it because at this point I fear not saying as much counts as deceit and I don't want to break my promise to you."
"Then you are in great luck- I am out of fucks to give on him for the moment. Whatever it is? I do not want to know. The less I think about him, the less I think about that whole-" She flicks her fingers in a vague gesture. "Thing. The better."
She doesn't want to remember the taste of the air or the sounds of the demons. The memorial stone with her name, the way the Nightmare laughed overhead. The Black City hovering in the distance... "I want to put it behind me."
He breathes out in clear relief, though there will be another reckoning to come later, when people realize he knew about another abomination and didn't speak up. For now, he's been as honest with Adelaide as she's asked him to be, and that can wait for another day.
"Understood. ...Is there anything you would like to think or talk about? Other than the fact that we seem to be low on embrium for some reason."
"How were the Anderfels?" That seems a safer topic of conversation. Also- tea. Her mug was empty, but moving at the moment? Impossible. "...De-De, could you brew a fresh pot of tea. I would myself but..."
She gestures to Remi, sleeping oh so sweetly in her lap, curled around the end of her braid. "I would hate to wake him."
...She might share tea, which is even bigger than sharing brandy, and she's just given him an opening to tease her about her cat. A genuine smile spreads across his face as he gets to work.
"You would hate to wake your... students' cat? You seem rather attached. Literally, going by the braid, and figuratively considering how you keep seemingly winding up with him. I think who truly belongs to the cat might be far more interesting than talking about demons and blood magic."
"You know where the jar of honey is, yes?" And how she takes it. There's a moments hesitation, the weight of choice hanging in the air for quite some time. What Nathaniel said sticks to her. What Pel says about Anders needing people-
It is complicated. It will never not be complicated. But she's lost something in Bruce that she...never truly had in the first place. "And where the second mug is."
A branch. An offer.
"His name-" She says, sniffing imperiously. "Is Remi. And Roul was supposed to come collect him earlier but is preoccupied with his newest lesson plan, so I am minding him a little while longer."
The second mug. It's been so long, but he most definitely still knows where that is, along with the honey, and both get set out as the water heats. He's not going to risk the haste spell when it comes to boiling water. He doesn't even want to rush it.
"Remi. That sounds properly Orlesian. Suitable for a LeBlanc. Was it Roul who named him... or you?" If Anders looks a little smug, who could blame him?
"Roul was going to name him Bonbon." Which is ridiculous. That is not what one names a cat. "The others had similarly foolish ideas, none of them could agree and there was a great deal of arguing. I stepped in to save the peace."
Nevermind that she's gently petting his ears, lips curled in a soft smile. "He sleeps on my bed with me more often than not. Climbs there if he is with one of the others at night."
"So you named him. He plays with your braid. He sleeps in your bed most of the time, leaving others behind. You're the one that took him in." The tea is set to steep as he lines up his points.
"Are you still saying that he's not your cat? That you don't need a special belt pouch just for your... bonbon?"
"He is not my cat." She arches a brow at Anders. "I am minding him. He spends most of the day with Roul on his shoulder."
Or that had been the plan. Now more and more Remi finds his way to her lap while she is working, her desk while she is taking notes, her bed when she is reading. But he is not he cat. That is a foolish idea.
"Surely he's not big enough to carry Roul on his shoulder yet."
He pours the tea now, and fixes it with care before bringing both cups over and setting them down and taking a seat. It's been... months. Actual months since they've had tea, and while he'd known he missed it, he hadn't realized quite how much he'd missed it until now.
"Every time I see him, I see him with you. Does Remi know that he's Roul's cat?"
"Anders." She snorts, wry and faintly fond, not moving so far forward as to hit him for that for fear of waking Remi. The tea is- made how she likes it. He's remembered and for a few moments it is as it was before. Two spirit healers and a pot of tea, despairing at the world.
She's missed it more than she'd like to admit.
"...I think so? Yes. He does. He's only ever with me for half the day."
Things to remember for the future: a cat in Adelaide's lap means he's less likely to get playfully smacked. It might even be something to use against her when he thinks he might soon run risk of hitting. Another thing to remember? How good it sounds to hear her say 'Anders' like that.
"And most of the night. Your poor cat may be due a talk about boundaries." Speaking of boundaries, Anders opens his largest belt pouch to peek inside and see if its occupant was still cozy or wanted out. As soon as his finger's claimed he smiles and sets down his cup so he can bring Purrelden up and onto the table. "This one doesn't have any. But that's all right. Would you like to meet Remi? The cat that will be Adelaide's in, oh, I'll give it two weeks?"
"He is a cat, he goes where he pleases- ah." Remi wakes with a soft yawn, uncurling from where he'd tangled himself up with the end of her braid. "Is that not so, chatton? You go where you wish."
There is no lilting or upward swing of her voice when she speaks to the cat- not in the slightest. She speaks to him in much the same way she speaks to Anders. Exasperated, fond, and with all due consideration. Remi responds by rolling over and crawling out of her lap to stretch on the table.
"And for the last time, he is not mine. He is his." No bell'ed collar on this kitten, just fluff and blue eyes and an imperious mew.
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She wouldn't if Anders wasn't being so rationally unfair.
"If that had happened, you've a letter." Almost everyone she knows has one written. "Updating it has become wearying."
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And that's the heart of it. He never knows where he stands on any given day, and it's exhausting.
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And yet it is coin she pays every day to keep her word, to mind him, and perhaps to attempt to reconcile what she knew before with the man he is now. The man he'd always been. It is that memory alone that has her calm rather than rising her voice, that has her exaspirated more than anything else. "You cannot ignore that, You do so, willfully, every day and act as though you have always been Detlef, you never did the things that you are hated for, and while that is how you cope and I do not begrudge it of you I am exhausted by the implication that I must drop everything and forgive you in your entirety when it is not that simple. You are not a thing. But this is complicated. Stop pretending that it isn't."
She sinks back in her chair, fingers combing through Remi's fur.
"And I never sign letters 'civilly yours'. It implies that I am uncivil otherwise."
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He exhales, leaning against a table. "I walk up here every day I'm in Skyhold to a mess of glares. If I snap back when someone lashes out the glares get worse, if I keep my mouth shut they get smug. In the tent, yes. I act like I'm just a healer, because I need to be just a healer sometimes. I act like I've shut things out and work and try to be a person because the day I give up is the day it's just Justice left and that's not fair to anyone who has put themselves on the line for me." But sometimes it's tempting. Sometimes it's very, very tempting.
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It is something she suspects she will never quite forgive him for, but that is neither here nor there. "You are yourself a massive complication and I am still a public figure- I suppose it is too much to have thought Nathaniel shared this with you, I already had this conversation with him for the grief he gave me."
She has a right to be wary with her regard. She has earned it twice over. Trice, now, with Bruce. "I do not have the luxury of acting on my own, for my own. My life is not entirely my own and while I did not want this, it is the job that was given to me and I will fulfill my duties to the best of my ability. That means minding whom I keep close. Especially since my track record is even more shit than I previously anticipated."
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"I didn't know you'd spoken with Nate about your position." It's not an apology, but it's an acknowledgement, at least.
"I'm not going anywhere. We came back here instead of staying up North. This... complication... isn't going to vanish. The public figure position isn't going to go away because you feel fulfilled in it. There will not be anything that I can do to become less of a complication, or atone for the Chantry. That's not changing. What does seem to change is where I stand, and for every glimmer of hope I see there's something else that shuts it down, so I'm left with no idea. Is it truly unreasonable to want some sort of... stability? To find some way to be close again? I don't know what's happened with your track record now, but I--"
He blinks. "I was going to say I can't do worse than I have, but that sounds awful and dismissive, and I don't want to be dismissive. I want to figure this out and I miss you."
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But Anders has promised to be truthful and that, at least, she can hold him to.
"Bruce is a mage." Shocker. He lied. She thought, perhaps, they'd been close but this only goes to show that she trusts far too easily. Dealing with that and facing Anders now-
She sighs. "We are- you are not nothing, De-De. But I cannot accept all of you because half of you, I am certain, would rather I not be involved at all, for all that I am working to free him."
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"Thank you," Anders finally says before looking up. "I can be patient. And the other half... never seems to be able to make up his mind about you. That you're assisting with the rituals he dislikes, but not as much as he approves of the work you do. He likes you more than he likes most people, though I know that's little comfort."
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Whether or not that dipped into his promise not to lie- but Bruce had been lying this time. For whatever reason, Bruce chose to hide this from everyone. Kalli she had not begrudged this, and there are other mages that would do the same if they could.
It felt like a deeper cut, somehow, coming from Bruce. She'd thought-
It doesn't matter what she thought. "As I said. Shit track record."
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He exhales. "I gave my word on that. But Bruce's lie isn't your fault, any more than mine is. I'd nearly everyone fooled, he had everyone fooled. And everyone has secrets. Some are more volatile than others, but again. Not your fault. Is he fully outed, or is it just to the two of us now?"
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He owes her more than she knows how to call in- far too angry still to consider much of anything. "I am going to have Dorian vet anyone new I might decide to befriend. His judgement seems relatively sound."
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"I can't tell if you know or not from what you're saying, but there's another secret there too. I'm not... I'm not sworn to secrecy on it, I didn't give my word not to tell, but I ask you not to ask me what it is, please. I'm only mentioning it because at this point I fear not saying as much counts as deceit and I don't want to break my promise to you."
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She doesn't want to remember the taste of the air or the sounds of the demons. The memorial stone with her name, the way the Nightmare laughed overhead. The Black City hovering in the distance... "I want to put it behind me."
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"Understood. ...Is there anything you would like to think or talk about? Other than the fact that we seem to be low on embrium for some reason."
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She gestures to Remi, sleeping oh so sweetly in her lap, curled around the end of her braid. "I would hate to wake him."
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"You would hate to wake your... students' cat? You seem rather attached. Literally, going by the braid, and figuratively considering how you keep seemingly winding up with him. I think who truly belongs to the cat might be far more interesting than talking about demons and blood magic."
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It is complicated. It will never not be complicated. But she's lost something in Bruce that she...never truly had in the first place. "And where the second mug is."
A branch. An offer.
"His name-" She says, sniffing imperiously. "Is Remi. And Roul was supposed to come collect him earlier but is preoccupied with his newest lesson plan, so I am minding him a little while longer."
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"Remi. That sounds properly Orlesian. Suitable for a LeBlanc. Was it Roul who named him... or you?" If Anders looks a little smug, who could blame him?
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Nevermind that she's gently petting his ears, lips curled in a soft smile. "He sleeps on my bed with me more often than not. Climbs there if he is with one of the others at night."
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"Are you still saying that he's not your cat? That you don't need a special belt pouch just for your... bonbon?"
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Or that had been the plan. Now more and more Remi finds his way to her lap while she is working, her desk while she is taking notes, her bed when she is reading. But he is not he cat. That is a foolish idea.
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He pours the tea now, and fixes it with care before bringing both cups over and setting them down and taking a seat. It's been... months. Actual months since they've had tea, and while he'd known he missed it, he hadn't realized quite how much he'd missed it until now.
"Every time I see him, I see him with you. Does Remi know that he's Roul's cat?"
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She's missed it more than she'd like to admit.
"...I think so? Yes. He does. He's only ever with me for half the day."
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"And most of the night. Your poor cat may be due a talk about boundaries." Speaking of boundaries, Anders opens his largest belt pouch to peek inside and see if its occupant was still cozy or wanted out. As soon as his finger's claimed he smiles and sets down his cup so he can bring Purrelden up and onto the table. "This one doesn't have any. But that's all right. Would you like to meet Remi? The cat that will be Adelaide's in, oh, I'll give it two weeks?"
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There is no lilting or upward swing of her voice when she speaks to the cat- not in the slightest. She speaks to him in much the same way she speaks to Anders. Exasperated, fond, and with all due consideration. Remi responds by rolling over and crawling out of her lap to stretch on the table.
"And for the last time, he is not mine. He is his." No bell'ed collar on this kitten, just fluff and blue eyes and an imperious mew.
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