She clicks her tongue, presses the book to her mouth a moment as if to keep the next thought in.
"I meant to get you a gift. Another gift, for Satinalia. I drew your name in the exchange but I was going to get another gift, and I didn't get to it. So for next year I owe you, and you mustn't let me forget it."
She smiles back, an instant thing. Pleased, at both the sentiment and the smile that he gives to her.
"Well, thank you. I am glad you liked it. But it was part of the scheduled exchange, is what I mean--and no less thought went into it--but I would have liked to get you something else, personally. Of course," and her smile takes on a wry tint now, and she smooths her thumb over the face of the book, "that didn't work out. So I owe you."
"Socks," she answers promptly. "And in case you want call that boring, I'll say that everyone should get at least one good pair of socks for Satinalia, in anticipation of all the cold that's just around the corner. I'm sure you can appreciate that. And I'd have funded a day at the Antivan spa that's just opened in Hightown. You might be uncomfortable at first--or so I would guess--but after an hour or so I think you'd find it relaxing, and you do deserve some relaxation. And then a small cask of some good red Ferelden ale, which you should develop a taste for, in moderation, if you haven't already. And--"
And here she clicks her tongue against her teeth again, this time thoughtfully, and pulls the blanket up around her shoulders a bit more. As if these three gifts weren't enough, there's more.
"And, this one is mostly sentiment, but if I had the coin for it, and if there were a blacksmith in Kirkwall trustworthy enough for the task, I suppose I'd commission you some armor. Quite new. I think that would be a gift both kingly and practical, don't you agree? You do seem to get yourself into situations where it would be useful to have some really good armor."
"Kingly indeed," Barrow admits, now as impressed as he is amused by the ever-growing list of gifts.
"Maker, I wouldn't need to know anyone else, you've got it all covered." Skirting over the 'getting himself into situations' remark, he chooses not to take it personally-- war's war, after all. "What have I ever done to deserve this level of charity?"
Tiffany's smile tints a little self-conscious, and she tucks her hair behind her ears with one hand. Her other hand holds the blanket closed still, keeping it modestly about her shoulders. She's not a child, she can get through this.
"Why would you have to have done anything? A gift is just something that's given because the person giving it wants go give it. There's no earning it."
Keenly aware of the change in Tiffany's demeanor, Barrow's smile dwindles again, but only slightly. He's struggling for footing once again, knowing exactly what he'd say if his only goal were to flirt with a bored housewife, but coming up short in a rather more nuanced and trepidatious situation. She could probably still have him court-martialed, and even if she won't, taking advantage of that by the virtue of his charming personality feels lower than the defection itself.
"I suppose it's only to say," he says haltingly, choosing each word with care, "that I'm... confounded. By such open-hearted generosity." His smile is quiet, pensive, his head cocked slightly in a furrow-browed curiosity. He respects her. And, more concerningly, he's coming to believe she respects him in turn.
It isn't pity that she feels for him. Pity does little good. It is all more complicated, even this. The thought of someone being confounded by a gesture--someone she likes, and she will not examine that designation much further in the moment, even if she might have Astarion's words at the back of her mind. That was nothing, really. Only words. And only the business of Riftwatch before that. Why shouldn't you keep your companions alive? There is no success when they die.
"Has no one been generous with you before?"
--Gently, she says it gently. If it is a misstep she can turn it to teasing.
No, that's certainly not it, is it? He had a loving family, he's never had to work too hard for anything in his life--
it hits him all at once, the realization crashing on his head like a sack of grain falling from a barn's rafter. It's not that he doesn't deserve generosity because he's a bad person, made questionable decisions, followed dubious orders: the people who deserve generosity are, by and large, people who are themselves generous.
Something Barrow is not, and has never been, a fact which makes itself known with absolute crystal clarity as he stares at Tiffany. It's rare that he allows himself to feel guilt, but here in the face of someone with seemingly no concept of how selfish a person he is, it burns white hot into his consciousness.
"Probably," he chuckles, forcing mirth, "but I'm sure I squandered it." There's no way the conversation can continue in this state-- he needs to escape, to regroup.
"Just as I've squandered your time," he adds with the same level of pleasantry, "I ought to let you rest. Feel better soon, Seeker Hart." Without giving her a chance to argue, he dips his head in a little bow and backs out of her room.
"Oh," Tiffany says, having sensed the strange shift, "no, that's," but she doesn't even manage to say that before Barrow backs out the door. And that's it. She's left sitting on her bed in a room that feels all the more empty now that she's suddenly alone in it.
"Well," she says to herself, "that was clearly wrong. Well done, Theophania."
And she lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-12-15 08:31 pm (UTC)"Of course," he automatically says instead, fixing her with his full attention.
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Date: 2021-12-16 03:53 am (UTC)She clicks her tongue, presses the book to her mouth a moment as if to keep the next thought in.
"I meant to get you a gift. Another gift, for Satinalia. I drew your name in the exchange but I was going to get another gift, and I didn't get to it. So for next year I owe you, and you mustn't let me forget it."
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Date: 2021-12-20 08:31 pm (UTC)Whatever look of concern had been forming, it's now replaced by a burgeoning smile, which only grows when he thinks on what Tiffany actually gave him.
"But your gift was lovely."
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Date: 2021-12-28 06:55 pm (UTC)"Well, thank you. I am glad you liked it. But it was part of the scheduled exchange, is what I mean--and no less thought went into it--but I would have liked to get you something else, personally. Of course," and her smile takes on a wry tint now, and she smooths her thumb over the face of the book, "that didn't work out. So I owe you."
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Date: 2021-12-30 11:27 pm (UTC)The smile creeps up the side of his mouth, curious amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"...what would you have preferred it to be?" Now he has to know.
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Date: 2022-01-02 11:59 pm (UTC)And here she clicks her tongue against her teeth again, this time thoughtfully, and pulls the blanket up around her shoulders a bit more. As if these three gifts weren't enough, there's more.
"And, this one is mostly sentiment, but if I had the coin for it, and if there were a blacksmith in Kirkwall trustworthy enough for the task, I suppose I'd commission you some armor. Quite new. I think that would be a gift both kingly and practical, don't you agree? You do seem to get yourself into situations where it would be useful to have some really good armor."
no subject
Date: 2022-01-07 08:41 pm (UTC)"Maker, I wouldn't need to know anyone else, you've got it all covered." Skirting over the 'getting himself into situations' remark, he chooses not to take it personally-- war's war, after all. "What have I ever done to deserve this level of charity?"
no subject
Date: 2022-01-08 11:37 pm (UTC)"Why would you have to have done anything? A gift is just something that's given because the person giving it wants go give it. There's no earning it."
no subject
Date: 2022-01-11 09:48 pm (UTC)She could probably still have him court-martialed, and even if she won't, taking advantage of that by the virtue of his charming personality feels lower than the defection itself.
"I suppose it's only to say," he says haltingly, choosing each word with care, "that I'm... confounded. By such open-hearted generosity."
His smile is quiet, pensive, his head cocked slightly in a furrow-browed curiosity. He respects her. And, more concerningly, he's coming to believe she respects him in turn.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-12 05:16 am (UTC)"Has no one been generous with you before?"
--Gently, she says it gently. If it is a misstep she can turn it to teasing.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-12 11:24 pm (UTC)it hits him all at once, the realization crashing on his head like a sack of grain falling from a barn's rafter. It's not that he doesn't deserve generosity because he's a bad person, made questionable decisions, followed dubious orders: the people who deserve generosity are, by and large, people who are themselves generous.
Something Barrow is not, and has never been, a fact which makes itself known with absolute crystal clarity as he stares at Tiffany. It's rare that he allows himself to feel guilt, but here in the face of someone with seemingly no concept of how selfish a person he is, it burns white hot into his consciousness.
"Probably," he chuckles, forcing mirth, "but I'm sure I squandered it." There's no way the conversation can continue in this state-- he needs to escape, to regroup.
"Just as I've squandered your time," he adds with the same level of pleasantry, "I ought to let you rest. Feel better soon, Seeker Hart."
Without giving her a chance to argue, he dips his head in a little bow and backs out of her room.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-13 04:22 am (UTC)"Well," she says to herself, "that was clearly wrong. Well done, Theophania."
And she lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.
no subject
Date: 2022-01-13 07:53 am (UTC)