[ 'reed is dependable', she'd like to say — can't. reed is dependable for her. he's dependable, she'd like to think, for most mages.
but reed is not going to listen to anders. she wouldn't ask him to. not when they're agreed upon the point that anders would be of most benefit to the inquisition as a head on a platter.
(not, she still worries now and then, with dairsmuid as it was) ]
I do not have the power to remove Harriman from his position. I do not know that doing so would solve the problem — we would have the same man, the same reactions, and even less structure to hold him to.
It is clear we cannot continue to pawn him off between us as though that will do anything. I've an offer to make him, but in the mean,
[ she trails off, unhappily, ]
We all need this peace to hold.
I will do what I can with my people, and with the loyalists. If you might put out a quiet word among the rest, to caution with Darton — I hope we will not need it.
Structure does not hold him as it is. Instead, it is a shield to hide behind. He's still a Templar, which means he has backing and authority whether you will it or not. As far as your request...
[There's a stretch of silence. This wouldn't cost him anything, and warning his people that they do not have a friend in Aleron after all could protect them. While he wants to object to working with Wren simply on principle - she's a Templar who seems utterly unpredictable - the bottom line is that it will not set him or his people back.]
I will spread the word through my people. It was nice to think for a few short days that perhaps one Seeker saw mages as people.
[ 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.
[Quiet is not Anders' forte. His protests during his first time in Kirkwall were loud, with letters written to every group that should have helped, talking to anyone who couldn't escape his voice, and it hadn't made a difference. So this news will spread, that they have one of the Seekers among them who had been there, had deliberately turned a blind eye and helped cause the disaster, and will still turn blind eyes to Templar abuses, but the news will spread quietly.]
I'd thank you, but I already know what he'll choose. Who would leave the order that protects them every time they attack someone? People change when they've reason to. He's no reason at all, and he'll continue to have no reason.
The Templars will protect the abusive as they always have, because so long as they lie to themselves and believe Kirkwall was entirely my fault, they've no reason to change either.
Do let me know how predictable the results wind up being, thank you.
no subject
but reed is not going to listen to anders. she wouldn't ask him to. not when they're agreed upon the point that anders would be of most benefit to the inquisition as a head on a platter.
(not, she still worries now and then, with dairsmuid as it was) ]
I do not have the power to remove Harriman from his position. I do not know that doing so would solve the problem — we would have the same man, the same reactions, and even less structure to hold him to.
It is clear we cannot continue to pawn him off between us as though that will do anything. I've an offer to make him, but in the mean,
[ she trails off, unhappily, ]
We all need this peace to hold.
I will do what I can with my people, and with the loyalists. If you might put out a quiet word among the rest, to caution with Darton — I hope we will not need it.
[ but hope's never done a whole lot ]
no subject
[There's a stretch of silence. This wouldn't cost him anything, and warning his people that they do not have a friend in Aleron after all could protect them. While he wants to object to working with Wren simply on principle - she's a Templar who seems utterly unpredictable - the bottom line is that it will not set him or his people back.]
I will spread the word through my people. It was nice to think for a few short days that perhaps one Seeker saw mages as people.
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.
no subject
I'd thank you, but I already know what he'll choose. Who would leave the order that protects them every time they attack someone? People change when they've reason to. He's no reason at all, and he'll continue to have no reason.
The Templars will protect the abusive as they always have, because so long as they lie to themselves and believe Kirkwall was entirely my fault, they've no reason to change either.
Do let me know how predictable the results wind up being, thank you.