justice_is_blond | Inbox for Fade Rift

Well as can be expected.

[Though how true that was with blood staining his shirt on the left-side region of his chest, one can debate how well that might be.

He could sense Anders's uneasiness, but he had no intention of going through the trouble of detaching his sword from him if he was going to pull it off in a moment.]

I won't take up much of your time, I simply have something for you...well for someone else, but you can do what you want with it.

[And with that he withdrew a parcel from his belongings, it had a little bit of weight to it, but it wasn't heavy. He placed it on any available surface between himself and Anders and backed away.]

That was all that I wanted.

[He frowns at this whole thing. There's a lot more going on here than is being said, and while he's not exactly sure he wants to engage with Michel, he'd prefer to know what's happening.]

Sorry about the distance. I'm not the most well-liked around here, and when a soldier asks to meet with me in person after more than one person has attacked me, I've cause to be nervous. But if you'd like to say more of what's going on, and who this is for, I'll hear you.

[Michel had no wish to say anymore than necessary to Anders if he could manage it. Still, he suspected that this deserved something more than a vague "take this package."]

It is...it was for Zevran, he is in Antiva now and I am returning to Sahrnia. For...personal reasons I could not give it to him [and there is a clear mixture of emotions that, even if he wanted to hide it from his well guarded expression, he simply could not] and I cannot hang on to reminders. Do what you want with it.

[Including the one Zevran had left on his chest, but it would not wash of, so in a fit of madness and his own grief he cut through the marking. Though the patch job had been sloppy.]

And the fact that you're bleeding? Shall I do what I want with that?

[Cannot hang on to reminders. So Zevran had... what, followed up on looking for the feelings he wanted and it went poorly? Anders had not wanted the elf to be involved with Michel, but now he's worried about Zevran hurting all the more.]

I'd like to know what it is before I take it, too.

Only if you want to.

[Not that it was the reason why he'd come.

As for who did what to whom? Well, Michel was not going to go into specifics about this either, but it would certainly be happy news indeed to know that Zevran would not be hurting at all.]

Ah...[this he did not want to go into specifics over, but he felt as though he could keep it basic enough] a scarf, oils, minerals, a grinder.

[He refused to say that he made the scarf, at least to Anders. Or that some of those oils had been oils that Zevran had purchased for the Chevalier specifically.]

[Definitely tokens of a relationship. Good. Better that be ended and Zevran have a chance to find someone who can value him. But Anders isn't about to say that.]

Take a seat. I'll attend to you, and then I'll tend to that.

[Michel had said to do what he would with it. First he would see how Zevran was before deciding. Then... then Zevran might get the items, and might not. Whatever was healthiest for the elf, Anders would do. He's a healer.]

You're leaving the Inquisition for good? Or will you be returning once you've licked your other wounds?

[Michel did as he was instructed, but he seemed to do so numbly as though he wasn't even aware of the action of sitting.]

I love him, too much to return and still function effectively. I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't eat...I cannot do anything for the chasm in my chest even though I've spent hours trying to explain it to my head.

[He was too numb to register the dampness on his own cheek, just the thought of him ached, but talking about it was worse.]

I'll do better in Orlais.

[A Chevalier, loving an elf. The tears don't move Anders' heart even as he moves his hands to heal. Lust, undoubtedly, is involved. Zevran inspires no end of lust. But love? Love requires equality, and that's not something the two share.]

Perhaps you will. Perhaps you'll find someone there to ease your heart.

[Someone who Michel can respect and not look down on.]

If you love him, then you should hope that he finds more happiness by the time you return. Because I've little doubt you'll return.

[A Chevalier could only think of the elf as his, and his property. He'll storm off in this mood and then come back expecting Zevran to welcome him back with open arms and heart, and Anders will do anything he can to make sure that welcome does not happen for Zevran's sake.]

[At being told he should go to Orlais to find someone else, Michel climbed back up to his feet slowly.]

I know what you think of me, which is why I asked you to do this, but I will not sit and have you mock my faith.

[On second thought just the package would suffice, he did not need a healer. Not this healer, not if it meant speaking to him for more than the moment it took to deliver the package.]

I wish I was the condescending fiend you think I am, that would make this easier.

[Not that he particularly cared whether or not Anders believed he would return. It wasn't easy, it was difficult, but he moved back toward the horse and to his belongings.]

Your faith. Yes, that's what I'm mocking.

[At least he'd done a little good, and if Michel didn't want to be healed the rest of the way then it was the man's own choice.]

You're most definitely condescending. I've not called you fiend. But go forth, condescend back in your homeland until you return to condescend more here.

[Michel has looked down on people from the start, like most nobles. Of course he would think Anders thinks him a fiend.]

Then what are you mocking?

[He saw Anders as a man too toxic to be a true healer, at least to him anyway.]

I apologize, no you did not call me a fiend, but you certainly have low esteem for me as a Chevalier and...no doubt, because you think that I am a noble. As I have said, however, I am not returning.

[Why else would he bring the cat if this was temporary?]

Your pride. That's what I'm mocking. And your resolve.

[The man has far too much pride and far too little resolve, but it's better that he run at first sign of conflict than sticks it out with Zevran and wears the elf down.]

I've low esteem for you because of our conversations. Your position only figures into it when you're saying that you love an elf.

You know me so well. Perhaps you have a little bit of pride in you as well.

[Based on the number of conversations they've had which amounted to a grand total of two, it's rather amazing that Anders thought he knew anything about his pride or his resolve.]

We did not have conversations, we had a single conversation and I retrieved our furry friend here in our second encounter. I did resolve to take care of her and keep her safe, did I not? And here she is, coming with me, healthy and safe as promised.

[Which was perhaps and underestimation of his resolve on the part of Anders and then there was his demon which Michel had not given up on for a single day in an entire year.]

Zevran. [By the way, reminding Anders that the name of the one he loved was not "elf".]

I've a great deal of pride. Pride enough to believe I'm the equal of any person here, and have every right to be free.

[Michel is... insulted? by the implication of multiple conversations? Anders is starting to feel amused. His amusement grows at the 'correction.' Maker, this is altogether too easy.]

And yes, my error. How could a Chevalier love an elf? It is simply that Zevran is superior to all others, and therefore you don't see him as one. Granted, he is rather superb for a person in general. I miss his arms and lips already.

[So, so amused.]

And that was ever in doubt?

[Michel wasn't offended so much as he believed in the distinction of it, that Anders could not know anything about a person in two encounters.

Of course that was offensive, offensive enough for Michel to take a stance, the heat rising from his chest, the desire to truly ring the man's throat was in his eyes.

He didn't rise to the occasion, the man's tongue was as much silver as it was lead.]

I'm a mage. Though wait, I forgot. Everyone suffers equally, my mistake. Truly every group has been treated as below every other, had their worthiness doubted.

[He can see the anger in Michel's eyes and knows another blow to pride has landed, another offense taken. The Chevalier wears altogether too much on his sleeve and thinks himself above it, above everyone. It's satisfying to land a blow.]

Don't you have somewhere to flee to? With your wound still intact? Beyond your pride, because I can tell that's wounded too.

I stand by what I said. It is not just mages who suffer in this world, but for a blameless, thoughtless, twitchy little man I'm sure it the only suffering that matters. And the best you could do was flee to this camp so that you might be sheltered from the disapproving eyes of Skyhold. How fortunate you have plenty of warm bodies to hide behind. It is better that than facing them with that pride the you desperately believe in, scream loud enough and perhaps it might be true...and yet it's not enough to walk into Skyhold with that same high-powered attitude. It's unfortunate that your sneering sanctimony isn't the equivalent of courage.

[And in that, they were not to0 different, perhaps Michel wasn't one to forget that he had feet below his knees so easily, but his pride did not make him forget the one atrocity in his life that he committed. Anders seemed to revel in his graveyards, from Michel's perspective, and though the man claimed to have pride, claimed to be equal to everyone else, he hid here, behind the graces and the reputation of the Grey Wardens. Michel wasn't certain he believed in the man's pride as much as Anders seem to believe it himself.

But he was through speaking to him, he gathered the reigns of the horse instead and with the creature trotting along beside him he left the camp.]

[He waggles his fingers as Michel goes, smirking, before starting to go through the package.]

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