Who: Isannah, Basch, Iomhar, Balthier, Tadgh When: Current Where: Craigcrook Castle, Edinburgh What: Iomhar, reluctantly sober, has some sword practice with Balthier. They get to talking about the oddity of games that feature people you know (and comparing this to actors,) and Tadgh shows up asking some questions about Balthier’s plans to move. Rating/Warnings: Balthier vaguely refers to some emotional trauma. Iomhar is not handling stress well. Status: Complete
Honestly, the iron grip of sobriety is getting to Iomhar, but he’s at least had a good practice session as part of that and he’ll have time to sober up again before the next time if he slips off later on. For now, he’s rinsing some shampoo from his hair, then turning off the water and grabbing for a towel. Shockingly, it’s maybe worked a little as a distraction.
“So,” Balthier says, from where he’s in his shower stall. “I slept terribly. I’m tempted to spend some time, just sitting there, and it’d be good, after a workout, to toast my muscles. Would you be willing to have us try to make a safe place for you, and you could steal some lunch and a nap? My sister might drop by.”
“I think I’d say most places would be safe enough, as I’m concerned.” Iomhar answers, toweling his hair off a little, then deciding that’s taking too long, he drapes the towel over his shoulders and shakes his head a little, sending water droplets splashing off. “But we can find someplace for that if you would like. I think there was a rumor about there being a few things in the fridge.”
He looks a bit amused.
“The benefits of a brother who stress cooks and hardly knows what to do with most of it.”
“How has he been doing? Most of Noah’s stories have involved you or Calum, so I’m not caught up on the gossip.” Balthier emerges, still a little damp, with a towel around his waist while he dries his hair. He’s a little slower than Noah, but the habit of fast showers and quickly getting dressed enough to handle something - that apparently is normal for the Archadian army. He does pause, post trousers, to snag his rings again, and the couple of seconds to redo his earrings.
“He’s…” Iomhar considers, “A bit odd lately, all things considered. I suspect he’s heading towards a sort of...they call it a mid-life crisis here. It means one day you freak out realizing half your life’s gone and decide to have adventures or do strange destructive things. Television suggests it’s dating women half your age and buying flashy sports cars.” He shrugs.
“The concept though...seems like he’s feeling old. AND he’s picked up some new complex about Aedan and Ellie…” Which is sort of worrying, but all the same… “Noah’s keeping him from full on neurotic mode.”
“Aedan is kind of sending mixed messages. Not that you’d expect a kid his age not to, but he keeps demanding that he not lose people, and he wants to be on his own.” Balthier shrugs a little and - the tension in his shoulders does kind of show as he leans to snag his undershirt. “I could see why he’d be stressed. Noah’s worried that you’re not relaxing and he doesn’t think it’s his place to try to push you to do that. And he’s worried that Calum’s pushing for more of wedding than there’d ever be back in Starkhaven.”
“Well.” Iomhar blinks, taking in all of that. “That’s a….lot to be taking in all at once. “But,, aye, there’s trust issues there for one.” He shrugs a bit too. “And Cal’s...I’d not say he’s gone past what’d happen for, well, us. He’s thinking ROYAL wedding. Which is probably a fair bit of too much fuss.”
“It’s more . . .” Balthier trails off. “The rambling is a bad habit.” Maybe he shouldn’t? “What’d you like for lunch?”
“The rambling’s fine. It helps me think about what might work here.” Iomhar says, “In terms of Noah...I’d no idea he was feeling like that. He always seems, well, fine, so I didn’t think to ask.” He should do that from now on. “Let’s see what’s on offering. He was grilling a lot of meat for salads.”
“I think part of his problem is that it wouldn’t be a royal marriage, back in Starkhaven, would it? And neither he nor Sebastian probably want a full royal marriage. He doesn’t know what is customary here, but - it feels a bit like - I guess, confusing? It might just be Noah working things out in his mind, and he’s not that worried, but - you can see what he tells you.” Balthier follows along toward the fridge. “I think there’s some noodles. Noodles and sliced meat? Sort of a cold salad?”
“Well now, it would hardly be no matter who he chose, technically.” Iomhar points out. “In the scenario where we’re all of us alive to be doing this...he’d never be allowed to...he’d not have left the chantry or he’d have had to give it up, his family ties.” He shakes his head. “So there’s that. And I suppose I can see the reasoning to where he’d...There’s another issue besides that’d apply in Starkhaven for a legal marriage.”
In other parts of Thedas, it doesn’t matter who marries who, and it’s not as if Starkhaven’s as bad as Tevinter, but it still feels awkward to discuss.
“In - Archades, it would’ve likely have been no ceremony at all. Since he’d just be a consort. I’m not sure about Landis.” Balthier shakes his head. “It’s nice that there’s more options here. Different options. It helps to make you think about all the things you assumed were just normal.”
He’s still fishing around for food. “I’d probably be content to be reading or something. Or we could talk. Assuming you don’t get some sleep, if my evil plot fails.”
Iomhar nods at that. “So, much the same boat, I suppose. But I think a part of it with Cal...this was never going to happen for Sebastian so, the fact it can...he’s always been upset he couldn’t persuade our parents out of sending him away. Makes him a bit eager to have some kind of celebration, I’d say. And it is nice, that we can but...I see where that’d be uncomfortable for someone who was able to realize it here. It’s a good thing but there’s not a lot of formal support is there? I feel like people could maybe use it sometime, that help adjusting to the idea they’re still normal even if they found things had changed.”
He moves over to join him there. “We can make reading work. I’d offer you a certain series about highlanders but…”
“You’d think they’d have a patent system for inventors, and some military oversight, and all sorts of things. I suppose it’s good for my nerves that we don’t have that, at least.” Balthier’s fishing out some options.
“Don’t the highlanders wear a kilt like the Starkhaven short robes?” Balthier sounds curious. “And what’s the other side of the issue with the books? A bit more somber? Or -”
“There isn’t one of those either?” Iomhar looks surprised. “That has to get annoying fast. Like stealing manuscripts and having to get people to steal them back from theatres in Orlais. It’s apparently a problem there just now.” he shakes his head a bit. “Aedan was mentioning a visiting troupe that mentioned it’d been a problem and having to use the...friends of mine.” It’s the best way to put it without going tnto detail that’s not relevant here.
PLUS, given that Iomhar knows Sera exists in this universe and she’s rather the most infamous Red Jenny and he’d rather not reveal too many secrets outside his family knowing and have her come for him later. He doesn’t really fancy the idea of waking up with bees in his pants.
“I’m not sure? I was afraid, early on, that someone would be pushy if they knew I might know military information. Though the guy in the game seems to be more of a tinkerer than myself. Pilot and engineer, not engineer who could be a good pilot if I had a ship sort of differences.” Balthier’s got some noodles, the meat, and he’s fishing around a little. “Want this to be hot, or cold?” He could just make a sauce and call it good. “I was worried too about - imagine if someone said ‘we own your game, we own you, so you’ll do our public speaking.” Balthier shakes his head.
“You know, I’m not too sure how anything millitary works in this world?” Iomhar looks slightly amused at his lack of knowledge. “They exist but it seems a bit more centered on, well, the people from other places who’ve got decent abilities to do things in emergencies. You’ll get normal people helping and organizing things but...I suppose they’ve mostly got other things to be getting on with. I’m told America’s got an ongoing overseas situation anyway.”
He’s heading around himself to a cupboard to glance through it. “And let’s see in terms of what we’ve got to drink with this. There were a few of those ciders that are sparkling and don’t have alcohol in if you’ve got to do a lot later. Actually post practice is probably a bad idea for it anyway.”
He might as well be honest about that fact, even with himself. And then he snickers. “One of Cal’s music students actually commented on the fact she technically’d paid for Bas, apart from the game. He’s worth seven pounds or so, and you can’t have a proper romance the way you can with other characters. And only women for some reason. They get so much weird stuff wrong.”
“I’d be fine with anything. Cider or tea or coffee. And - I think that’s a here thing. It’s very - I keep noticing that it’s all humes in relationships, and mostly just duos. It’s very different from Archadian fiction. Not that I didn’t hear joking comments about that, in other areas. And it could be rather - hrm. Exoticism? I don’t know the right term.” The popularity of Viera fiction, needless to say, tended to make Fran snort. And critique people forgetting about height suddenly in the bedroom. The worst stuff emphasized non-humes as being animalistic. Balthier makes some sauce for the noodle salad and adds some cucumbers to his plate before showing it to Iomhar. “Looks good? I can make your plate to your taste.”
“It’s funny. He’s the only one with a weird restriction.” Iomhar shrugs. “Everyone else in the game can go however you pick. AND there are romance scenes.” He smirks. “I’d definitely take advantage of it if he had them, believe me.” Sebastian’s romantic life is amusing as is. It’d be funnier if he made a Hawke that looked like Noah and...It’s a good idea, okay? At least in his head, it is.
“Oh so something along the lines of...I think everyone’s half wanted to sleep with an elf at least once. Maybe a qunari?” He shrugged a bit. “Not that they’re easy to explain and most are in a weird cult that’s definitely spelled out problems for most of the rest of us who’re sane and all of that. And that looks good. Let’s see though. Maybe the red dressing for me.”
Balthier slides Iomhar’s plate to him, and moves to get some mugs. “Cider for you? Or cold coffee? I’m kind of avoiding working on the stove when it’s muggy like this. I could see the restriction being - he’s a priest, I think, isn’t he in the game? So that could be worrying, politically. I think Noah’s been avoiding looking at things about the games. He didn’t really enjoy seeing himself in the game we’re from.”
“Depending on the choices you make when you romance him.” Iomhar pauses. “That’s a weird choice of verb but you can either have a chaste marriage in the chantry and join it, or you can be promised to become Princess of Starkhaven if you decide to rival him while you’re romancing him. Which means mostly not blindly supporting the things he says and challenging it. It’s too bad the Hawke here doesn’t seem to have had that sort of a friendship with him, even without the romance. It’d have been good for him. And she’s pretty. Having her around the place would have been fairly pleasant. And I’ll go with the cider...let’s see if he got the kind with the pear….there we are!” He seems pleased. “This one is the best. Well, this time of year at least. I’m told it’s fairly easy to get hold of fresh too, in a couple months for apples. And Bas has mostly avoided things too. I think it’s to do with...well none of the internet fans like him very much? I’d suppose it’s hard to deal with knowing.”
“It does seem weird. You’d assume you wouldn’t just tell people what you thought of them.” Balthier shakes his head. “Though people do that to actors, which is also strange. Where’d you like to eat? Just here, at the counter, and then we head off and try sprawling a while?”
“Well, more like you can google and see it. People complain about near anything.” Iomhar shrugs. “People did it to Cal a lot too. He was a bit…” He shrugs a little, grabbing some forks. “Well, he was the one that they expected to sit in on petitions and they’d try appealing by complaining to him. Rarely worked, mind you, our athair wasn’t one for being told what to do, so it’d fall on him a little. The actor thing’s odd too. And woe betide you if you’re the woman seeing someone popular. It’s always the women they turn on. Or get weirdly creepy.”
“We can do this here.”
“Athair?” Balthier sounds curious. “That’s - what is that?”
“Ah, sorry, that’d be father. “ Iomhar explains. “He was good enough at what he did, kept the nobles happy but he also didn’t suffer much in the way of long winded explanations or anything of those lines. But it’d worked while GrandDa was still around and able to put his oar in. He’d retired, but he still did a fair bit of keeping interest in the way things were going.”
“Ah - what was he like? I haven’t heard much about him.” Balthier waves a fork. “If you want to talk about it.”
“I suppose I WOULD be the one to ask. If anyone else were to tell you which of us was his favorite, that would be me, I think. And yet, it’s not as though Cal didn’t have his due, just...we were closer. If you want to call it that. We did have the most secrets between us. There’s an intimacy in that..”
Iomhar shrugs a little. “I think, though...he was a better prince than he was a father? We were the heirs so that happened to work out, and he cared for us, even though he’d some disturbing ways of showing that, what with what he did to Sebastian, sending him away, and all, but...we didn’t exactly know each other all that well. There was always business to be done, that sort of thing.”
“I wonder if it might help Calum feel better if he had an excuse to steal Sebastian back for a little time. Take some time off and do something together. Separate hobbies, maybe?” Balthier waves his fork. “I’d be willing to help plot if you need a co-conspirator. Since I’ll be around some of the time.” Visiting Basch and all.
“Maybe.” Iomhar muses. “Strange to say, we’ve never quite shared them outside of fighting before. And that was less an interest for them both as it was necessary. And we were all so far apart in age then...it’s been weird seeing he’s caught up. It’s not a bad idea at all.”
Tadgh’s been over to go over some things with Aedan and he’s heading out when he hears...is that Balthier? Really? He’s been needing to catch up with him.
Balthier’s leaning on the counter, with a fork dangling in his fingers and - looking like he’s doing lunch with Iomhar. He’s got that slightly tired and relaxed grin that he did after practicing with Noah - so - that might explain his slightly damp hair. “That has to be odd. At least he’s near Noah’s age, isn’t he? So that’s not so odd. I know Noah’s occasionally - Basch is older than myself, but we’re both - coming into things from different places.”
“He is, aye. I can think how awkward it could get otherwise. It’s a bit different with actual relationships and ages, isn’t it? “ He looks sort of thoughtful for a moment. “Much different from buying a night with a professional. Well.” He pauses. “A professional from somewhere reputable and licensed and everyone’s on board. “ Just to make that clear.
“And that must be a bit...awkward. Difficult to think about, I’m sure. Well, difficult in the wrapping your brain around it way.”
“I guess so? And professionals. You had that in Archades. I wasn’t really running with the right group to hire them, and you didn’t have that good legal protection in place in some areas.” Balthier stretches. “Will you let me -” He trails off and brightens. “Falcon. Good to see you again.”
“And you.” Tadgh gives him a wave. “I was here for Aedan. But if I’d known you were going to be by...I’ve wanted to talk with you.” He smiles, edging in a bit more. “How’re you?”
“To me?” Balthier sits up, and he can feel his spine being stiff. It probably shows a bit in his face. “I was talking about using a hot water bottle on my back. I took Iomhar out to show him some of what I know about swords, and I should probably relax a bit. I’m doing all right. What did you want to talk about?”
“Sounds nice.” Tadgh grins. “It looked amazing before., I do know that. And well, there’s no rush in us talking. It’s probably better done when you’ve had a chance to rest a bit. I don’t..it’s slightly invasive, as a topic. There’ve been a few things I’ve heard around the house about you moving on? No one’ll try to stop you, mind, but..it’d be good to talk about when you’ve got time.”
Balthier stills for a second, with more of a - it’s less of a change in expression as his expression not changing, before he stirs and moves to take care of his plate. “I was talking with my sister about getting a place of our own to move into, yeah. What’d you want to talk about?”
“A bit of…” Tadgh pauses. “It’s been hard for you lately. That sort of thing. If there’s anything that’d make this easier, I can help with that. Well, I’d like to try it. And at least we can help move things onto a truck or whatever.”
“I fear we haven’t found a place yet. Are you sure you’d want to help? I wouldn’t want to pull you away from things.” Balthier slides the pear cider closer to Tadgh. “Hungry? I just had some lunch.”
“I’ve not got much on at the moment.” Tadgh had a few minor jobs to take care of over the last week, but they’d mostly consisted of fighting his way out of corners, and less assassinations overall. It’s working out well that way, but it doesn’t mean they can’t spare the time.
“Then . . . it’d be nice? If you have the time. It’s nice spending time with you.” Balthier looks at Iomhar and offers his hand. He honestly does like Tadgh. The guy seems very - he’s clearly able to hold his own in a fight, and, at the same time, he’s aware that he could be threatening. Better than the bulky types that’d just crack their knuckles and pretend that it’s amazing that you’d jump. “Shall I drag you off and try to get you to relax? And Tadgh can ask questions?”
“I”m for that.” Iomhar agrees. “It’s seeming like some parts of it…” He glances toward Tadgh. “They might be of SOME interest for me?”
“Well…” Tadgh considers. “In a sense, I’d suppose you might say you’re on the boundary there. But we can talk about it out of any other earshot, right?”
Balthier raises an eyebrow. “You get it, right, that it’s - I get that I’m jumpy and all, but secret talks about me moving to a house is a bit -” He waves a hand. “Let’s get moving. Gatehouse, then? Or do you have a favorite area here, Ser Iomhar?”
“The Gatehouse would work well for me.” Iomhar says, giving him a little nod. “I”m fine with things near anywhere you could think of. Lead on?”
“Remember that heavy blanket thing I mentioned? I thought I could get a hot water bottle and we could try that. And if you’re not comfortable, well, you’re not. But - it can’t hurt? And I’m trying to coax Noah to try one for when he can’t sleep.” Balthier’s kind of taking Iomhar’s side as protection. “How was Aedan, Falcon?”
“I’ll give it a go.” Iomhar’s not particularly stressed at the moment, but it’d be good to see if it does work now, before it gets to a extreme point, right? Seems reasonable in concept.”
“He was good, actually.” Tadgh smiles. “We’re amping up a few things now, so discussing it helps a bit. We weren’t sure if you still wanted…”
Balthier raises an eyebrow. “I promised I’d help Fawkes with anything he wanted me to look at.” The rest - he’s honestly not thinking much about. If joining the assassins was joining with Tadgh, or Jacob, as much as Jacob and him - were a mess. That might not be too bad, in the sort of painting knights out of clouds kind of imaginations. Fawkes seemed fine as well. But just saying that he’d join the assassins when people seemed to think his blurry fears were so far from proper? That seemed - presumptuous.
Tadgh nods at that. “It’s a big decision. Don’t let any of us rush you. I’d just wondered if we ought to be showing you more things yet, but...we’ve not really seen you either, lately. Because of...everything?”
“Did Faw -” Balthier trails off. “It seems a bit - pushy to talk about wanting to work with the assassins if I’m - not really working by the creed properly. There was all that talk about having full awareness of what everything implied and all.” He shrugs a little. “I was kind of lying low with the alien mess. I can fight, but I’m not really super useful with that kind of thing. And it was . . . terrifying. I had people with more skill than me who wanted to be on the front lines, and to know I was behind them. So - I laid low.”
“I was curious is all that is.” Tadgh says, honestly. “And if we’d said or done anything that might have influenced that. I couldn’t imagine how it’d not do that, but…” He frowns. “And that seems reasonable, when it comes to the aliens. Better you didn’t make danger for someone else, right?”
“Exactly. Or find some new way to not sleep at night because for some reason things decided to float in space and send down wobbly thin aliens all over.” Balthier taps on the gatehouse door before opening it. “Issy? Basch? Noah? I’m back. I mostly . . . I wanted to move out because I keep catching myself wondering if I should ask if I should leave my room. That’s not . . . normal. Or healthy, I don’t think. And it’s not - your house’s fault. But still -”
He’d woken up, sometime about when aliens were showing up on the streets and you’d hear occasional weird firefights outside, and found that he was sitting there staring at the phone (barely working) and wondering why his hand hurt, until he realized he was holding the room keycard tight enough that it was almost painful.
“But still?” Tadgh’s prompting and Basch and Isannah are trading a glance, then Basch is stepping over to Balthier.
“Do I want to know what’s going on?” Basch wonders.
Balthier grins and reaches for Basch’s hand. “Hey. I should probably toast my back, but I managed a full routine without issues. Falcon was asking about the plan to get a house.” It just feels - better having everyone here. “I said I was kind of - my nerves making a place unsafe, versus somewhere actually being unsafe.” Well - fundamentally unsafe. He knows Basch can weigh his safety on his own, but somehow he wants a place to curl up with Basch that he knows, deep down, would never betray them.
“How’d that go?” Basch asks, not really caring the man in question is there too. “Sounds like it might have gone a bit awkward, really.”
“Falcon’s good though. He said he didn’t want to be pushy and he was just curious.” Balthier detaches to go get the hot water bottle. “He offered to move boxes. I hope we move closer to fall or winter, because he’d likely regret it otherwise.” That’s - attempting to joke? Not that they own that much to make multiple boxes, but still. He - probably should answer the question. “A . . . little awkward. We’ll be fine.” That’s not phrasing it quite right. On the other hand, the idea that - they will be fine? It does make all of this seem - kind of minor.
Basch snorts a little at that. “I can imagine now. That’d be a bit of a pain in this weather. On the other hand, it snows in, what, fall here? “ He laughs. “That’s got its own sort of issues, right?” He smirks. “But, glad that went well.”
“Leading man,” Balthier offers as he pulls over a pillow and settles with the hot water bottle with a flourish. “Can I persuade you to join us a while, Basch? If you’ve eaten, and have nothing planned. Or were you heading over to see your brother?”
“I’d nothing really planned.” Basch pauses. “Well, sorting through some clothes later, that we got at the charity shop but that can wait. I’ll hang round for a bit, sure.” It seems like this might be significant somehow, though he’s not sure how.
Balthier settles in and digs out the computer. “Do you want to see what we were looking at, Falcon?” He’s - guessing Iomhar might sprawl, or Isannah could help. “Did you see the rowhouse, Issy? The big windows would help, but it looked like the sort of place you’d want an elevator.”
“Elevators would be better, yeah, just in case..” Isannah frowns .”It sounds silly to think about that maybe, but I can’t not. “
“People from home you’re wishing to see again?” Tadgh smiles. “If my Kate ever manages...I like to think about that. Though I think as a whole, rather than dealing with mine, the brotherhood as it stands should probably be hoping for, you know, Rebecca. I can make Shaun look and sound sane, to be sure, but it’s a long haul to being able to balance our mentor and nobody’s got the strength to save him from himself. And I’ve had something confirmed, about home. Well, the world in the future anyway, so I don’t have to worry about losing her, by any means.” He’s pretty pleased about that.
“Your brother?” Iomhar asks Isannah, nodding. “It’d have felt weird to turn up here and no Cal in sight. Can’t think of many times we were both in residence and not together. Well, the lie-in days after our weddings, perhaps.”
“I do miss Evan,” Balthier says. “He’d surely wear the older brother hat at me for days, and enjoy getting to meet Noah without the armor, and Basch. But - it makes sense to plan if he’d show up. If nothing else, if Assassins visit, maybe somewhere that could handle someone not feeling super mobile? Planning for bad times, at least. Or interesting ones.”
He - suspects some days, he and Basch might be moving slow. So - plan for bad days, and hope for good ones.
“Flinging yourself from buildings likely DOES run the risk.” Iomhar sounds amused as he points that out. “A few of the Jennys I ran with broke or sprained things that way. Wasn’t as common as falling when you snatched a horse from the street to borrow but…” He shrugs a little.
“It’s good when you can have those people.” He says of the rest of what Balthier’s mentioned. “The older brother types. There’re times you just want to lay whatever stupid thing you did in someone calm’s hands to help you sort. Aye?”
Balthier looks at Isannah and tilts his head. “It does help. Sometimes, you can ask for other people to help you out too, you know? I think you agreed to try relaxing. Want me to non-subtly nudge you toward that?”
“Relaxing, eh?” Iomhar nods slowly. “I think I could be persuaded, by the right people.”
“I think I could punch you in the head and you’d fall asleep right quick.” Isannah’s found the register for his accent and slips into that now. “I’ll come on over there though. “I’ve got a story about the Tower of London to tell you. I don’t think I’m allowed back there, but..”
“Hmm? Tadgh blinks at that, then glances to Balthier. “I’ll stay here where it’s sane, if you’re needing me or want to talk more about any of this, of course. I know that things got...Jacob.” It’s a complete thought, really. “Anything you’ve got to say if you’re wanting to, I’m open. Whatever’d help you relax is the rule of the day, I’m thinking.”
Balthier leans to offer Iomhar a hand to sprawl out. “I’m feeling pretty comfortable. I’ve got friends here, and - the gatehouse is a good place. There’s pastries, by the way, and coffee in the kitchen.” He honestly wouldn’t mind living in a building like this, but - well - Shaun’s fears of Sebastian makes him inclined to have an option that is not here. Spreading out, if the world goes strange again, and all. He looks at Tadgh. “Help me get you relaxed? Teach me what works for you.”