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Library, Sunday

His various chores out of the way, and the etiquette books placated, Face was back behind the desk, reading a book of poetry.

Because reasons.

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"I don't think she's attending too many parties." Given she was specifically at a place called 'the Seeker Fortress'.

Face weighed up the possibility of Anders doing something rash with forewarning, versus him doing it in a panic. "She intends to after something she calls her Vigil is over," he said. "It's not because of my considerable good looks and abundance of charm."

"Probably that's her final vows," Anders said, mainly to himself, and then stiffened at the rest of what Face had to say. "It isn't? And I suppose it's not for the air conditioning and free wifi, either."

"I doubt it," Face said, watching Anders carefully. "Though going off the wording, I don't think she's planning on trying to drag you straight back with her."

Mostly because Cassandra was blunt enough that she'd probably have just written that.

Anders frowned and squinted at Face. "You lost me. What exactly did she say about me? And I can't tell you how flattered I am she cares."

Face cleared his throat, and in a perfect mimicry of her accent that would likely earn him a well deserved punch on the arm if she ever found out about it, recited "'the apostate Anders cannot be left to roam there alone'," before dropping back into his normal voice. "It's the 'alone', if she's going to haul you off at swordpoint, why bother specifying?"

Anders sighed despite his appreciation for the accent. "Maker's arse. Leave her to sound like I'm a danger to everyone without her watchful eye," he said. "But no, you're right. If she was going to come back, grab me and flee, no need to mention me roaming at all."

"Just think how impressed she'll be when she gets back and you haven't even set anyone on fire," Face said dryly.

He thought Cassandra was a lot of things, but not flawless.

"It'll be a struggle," Anders said, barely managing a straight face, "but I think I'll be able to keep it together. I'll just think about the Chant when I'm tempted."

Face bit his lip. "From what I understand, doesn't that Chant involve someone getting set on fire?" he asked innocently.

"The prophet, for making the wrong mages angry," Anders said, hoping he judged Face's tone correctly. "Why, do you think we need a new martyr?"

Well, he wasn't judging it incorrectly. "That might be going a little far," he said. "But all things considered it doesn't seem like thinking of it would be that useful for stopping things going up in smoke."

"Good point," Anders allowed, and rocked back on his heels to give Face a more speculative look. "What do you make of the whole thing, anyhow? I'm Andrastian too, of course, but Cassandra -- it's important to her."

Edited 2015-07-20 15:59 (UTC)

"Important enough that I wouldn't be making these jokes if she were here." Unless he wanted to distract her by making her mad. He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Most humans in the parts of the galaxy I grew up in aren't especially religious, and stuff like the Force isn't exactly a matter of faith or divinity."

Anders nodded; that made sense. "I was just curious. I know what people tell me about it, but I probably don't explain it the way she does."

He glanced Face over. "You don't act like you have a problem with me. That's all I really care about."

Face shrugged again. "You haven't done anything that would make me have a problem with you," he said.

"And I plan to keep it that way," Anders told him brightly.

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Library, Sunday

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