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Library, Sunday

During his re-shelving this morning Face had found the most amazingly trashy book. There were a bunch of place names and terms he didn't quite recognise, but that was hardly unusual, and he could always ask Cassandra for help where armour and weapons were concerned, which would be an adventure in and of itself, but the but the prose was the kind of ridiculous, fast paced kind that was so very readable.

Not to mention there were pictures, which were worth a thousand words, really.

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Though Face has already got his hand on the best book.

If you can distract him from his book about spears and kneeling and amazingly terrible dirty metaphors.

If he's around.

...

"You look distracted."

Cassandra's tone almost sounded approving in this instance, as he was not asleep at his desk. There was that.

Face looked up from his dirty, dirty book. "Hey, do you know what a fauld is?"

Face, no.

"It is a kind of plate armor, worn around the hips," Cassandra said, raising an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Oh, that makes sense," Face said. "I was just trying to get a mental image of what was happening."

He turned the page. "Of course that's one of the illustrations."

Cassandra came up towards the desk. "What are you reading?" she asked. "Some historical document?"

"If it is, it's certainly taking one of the most interesting tacks."

Face, no.

Cassandra frowned, and she leaned over to look at the book. "What do you mean? And will I regret asking?"

That depended on Cassandra's opinion on vulgar things. "It claims to be the untold story of some religious figure," he said. "I have doubts towards its accuracy."

... She did like smutty books, though the jury was out on how much she would enjoy dealing with Face reading smutty books.

"Such works rarely do more than dabble in guesswork," Cassandra said, "Depending on its age."

Just be glad he hadn't started a dramatic reading. Yet.

"I don't recognise the dating system, but it seems to have been printed fairly recently wherever it came from," Face said.

She would find that either hot or terrible. Or both.

"Then it is guesswork," Cassandra decided. "No doubt there are some wild tales made up about this figure."

"Very wild," Face confirmed. "Celibacy doesn't seem to be much of a thing in this religion."

Cassandra eyed him dubiously. "It is not about the Avvar, is it?"

She had heard stories.

"No, the..." Face sounded out the name. "...Alamarri. I guess they both begin with the same letter though."

Cassandra almost choked. Almost. "Did you say Alamarri?" she said. "...This is not about Andraste, is it?"

And now she was trying to snatch up the book.

Face let her grab it, since he wasn't about to get between Cassandra and a book she wanted. "Yeah, and some guy named Hessarian," he replied. "Or possibly Archon, but I think that's a title."

"Archon Hessarian of the Tevinter Imperium," Cassandra said, flipping quickly through the pages. "--This is filth!"

"Well written though," he said. "Very evocative."

Face, no.

"It slanders the Bride of the Maker!"

Was Cassandra going a bit red? Maybe.

For various reasons. Righteousness was easiest.

"How?" Sometimes Face didn't know when to stop talking. "Sure it's trashy, but she still seems pretty awesome."

"They are describing her--"

For a moment, Cassandra struggled to speak. "--Private areas!"

Euphemistically. Very euphemistically. But this was bad enough.

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Library, Sunday

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