[ There are two problems at play here: A crisis of public image, and the potential for lives lost down the line. Both need to be handled. Both are her intimate concern.
Wren doesn't like Anders. She doesn't trust him. But she trusts him to act according to his nature, and she trusts his word to carry more weight than hers among the Inquisition's radical set. A warning he gives will be heeded, and if he does so quietly? If he can be convinced to not cry this small disaster from Kirkwall's rooftops? So much the better.
The true danger to their image here isn't in alienating the Inquisition's staunch libertarians (if they're here, they're here because they believe in the cause or they've made the risky calculation to claim the legitimacy it offers), but in driving off those in the middle, those who might yet be convinced of compromise. It's in appearing to be another storm brewing before the eyes of the Viscount.
She can handle the moderates. The Inquisition can handle its landlord. In the mean time, better that no one be hurt — whatever their politics — for trusting to the wrong man's sense of objectivity. ]
Thank you. For what little it is worth...
[ She tries. For like, a whole second. But — Nope. Still can't do it. Still can't apologize to this fucker. ]
...I will keep you updated, on what Harriman chooses.
no subject
Wren doesn't like Anders. She doesn't trust him. But she trusts him to act according to his nature, and she trusts his word to carry more weight than hers among the Inquisition's radical set. A warning he gives will be heeded, and if he does so quietly? If he can be convinced to not cry this small disaster from Kirkwall's rooftops? So much the better.
The true danger to their image here isn't in alienating the Inquisition's staunch libertarians (if they're here, they're here because they believe in the cause or they've made the risky calculation to claim the legitimacy it offers), but in driving off those in the middle, those who might yet be convinced of compromise. It's in appearing to be another storm brewing before the eyes of the Viscount.
She can handle the moderates. The Inquisition can handle its landlord. In the mean time, better that no one be hurt — whatever their politics — for trusting to the wrong man's sense of objectivity. ]
Thank you. For what little it is worth...
[ She tries. For like, a whole second. But — Nope. Still can't do it. Still can't apologize to this fucker. ]
...I will keep you updated, on what Harriman chooses.