#thank you so much gaspard i am going to be annoying about this for the rest of the yr

[leodanbrock]

Justice with Guy-man (source)

[three-houses-text-files]

ashe/mercedes

c-a support + paired ending

c

Mercedes: Oh no! This isn't right! Now what am I supposed to do? Ashe: What’s the matter, Mercedes? M: I accidentally made this food much sweeter than I wanted... A: Let me taste it. A: Hmm, yeah, a little sweet. What if we try adding a few spices? M: Huh? This is delicious! You're an amazing cook, Ashe! A: My dad used to own a restaurant. I helped out a lot around the kitchen, even as a little kid. M: Wow, that's a lot of responsibility to take on at an early age. No wonder you always work so hard. M: I might learn something if I watch you cook! A: Well, no promises. A: I just have a little bit of experience, that's all. But look at you—you're great at baking cakes! M: It's true that I'm quite good at baking, but I'm not the best when it comes to seasoning. M: Maybe it's because I don't like spicy food? It's tough to make food taste good when you don't enjoy it. M: I just had an idea! If the reason I can't cook spicy food is because I don't like it... M: Then all I have to do is eat some spicy food! If I learn to like it, then I'll be better at making it, right? A: I don't know. Maybe? What makes you say that? M: No, no, no. None of that matters. Once I've made a decision, I have to go with it! I'll make something spicy right away! A: Oh, this won't end well. A: If I leave her to it, she'll make an even bigger mess. M: Hey, Ashe! Which seasonings should I use? These ones? A: Um, hold on, Mercedes! Let me show you! A: That one goes best with meat, but for stir-fry, what you really want is this...

——————————————————————————————

b

M: Whoa! What happened? The pan's smoking! A: Mercedes! What's going on?! A: Agh, my eyes! I can barely breathe! M: Oh! Ashe! I'm so glad you're here! My cooking's not going very well at all... A: What did you put in there?! M: I used some of this spice, that seasoning, and the herbs on the top shelf. Then I started frying it in oil. A: That explains it. We use that herb for smoke bombs! A: Just turn the heat off and cover the pan! M: Oh no! The people in the dining hall don't look so good... A: Sorry, everybody! Could we clear out the dining hall for a few minutes, please? A: Well, some folks were a little annoyed, but at least we got the place cleared out. A: It's a good thing no one mistook all that smoke for an attack. That could have been a disaster. M: I’m so sorry. I always mess everything up. A: No, it's my fault. I should have taught you which herbs to avoid. M: Don't blame yourself. M: I just need to figure out how to do it right for next time. A: Next time? A: You still want to try again, even after all that? M: Of course! If I didn't, that would just be a waste of everything you taught me. A: I guess that's true. M: If you quit every time you made a mistake, then you'd never learn anything, right? A: That's a great point. M: Ah! Maybe my mistake was frying the herb in oil. M: If I had boiled it instead, then there wouldn't be smoke. M: What do you think, Ashe? A: Boiling, huh? Yeah, that'd be fine. M: Great! I'm gonna get this right next time for sure!

——————————————————————————————

a

M: Excuse me, Ashe. Do you have a moment? M: I've finally managed to finish cooking a dish and I would love for you to have a taste! A: Sounds good! I'd be happy to. A: Wow, Mercedes! This is delicious! M: I used that herb you suggested. Boiling it gave off such a lovely aroma. M: I think I used the right amount of spice too. Even I could eat it without burning my tongue! M: I'm a much better cook now, thanks to you. M: I hope you can continue teaching me... A: Definitely! I should thank you too. M: Thank me? Even after all the trouble I've caused you? A: Seeing you persevere has made me really happy. A: In fact, you've reminded me of someone I cared about a lot. M: Oh! Someone you cared about? Romantically? This is all so sudden, Ashe. I-I don't— A: Ah, I didn't mean it that way. I was actually thinking about my brother. M: What a relief! I didn't even know you had a brother! A: He was the son of Lonato, my adoptive father. I always called him my brother though. A: Failure never got to him. All he'd ever do is laugh and try again. A: Whenever I was feeling down about a setback, he would cheer me up. A: He’d say something like, "Don't worry. We'll tackle it together next time." A: I was always happy to have him around. M: He sounds like a wonderful person. A: He was. And I get the same feeling from you. M: I've done nothing but bother you with frivolous little things. M: I'm sure I could never be like your brother... M: But I'd like to stay by your side... If you'll have me... A: What do you mean? M: I want to be there to help you in times of need, or to cheer you up when you're feeling down. M: I should be able to manage that without doing too much damage! A: I'm glad to hear you say that. A: Thank you, Mercedes. I know I can rely on you!

——————————————————————————————

paired ending

After the war, Ashe was formally knighted and appointed the new head of House Gaspard, which had no successors. The young and inexperienced lord faced a great deal of difficulty in governing. Though he was famously tenacious and never lost heart, it was perhaps only due to the constant counsel of his wife, Mercedes, that he managed to overcome all obstacles. When not busy governing their territory, the couple lifted one another's spirits by baking delicious sweets for each other. The tradition was so heartwarming that it became popular for husbands and wives in that region to do the same for generations.

[impossible-rat-babies]

DA 20 questions!

I was tagged by @acepavus! Thank you darling!

I’m gonna tag: @apostatetabris, @dirthara-mama, @wicked-eyes-and-wicked-hearts, @star--nymph, @red-wardens, @vvakarians, @trans-aloth, and anyone else who wants to do this! Sorry if I’ve double tagged you all!

--

01) Favourite game of the series?

I gotta go with Inquisition. I love all the maps and the characters I’ve gotten to make through the games. It’s a beautiful game.

02) How did you discover Dragon Age?

I saw art of Dorian around and figured out he was from dragon age and that he was gay and I was instantly hooked on wanting to play the game. I hadn’t ever seen a video game before with a gay man in it and I was desperate for LGBT content and validation. Dorian has been immensely important to me in helping me realize my identity.

03) How many times you’ve played the games?

I’ve played origins all the way through four times I think. I’ve played da2 three times, twice with my main Hawke and then another Hawke. I’ve played inquisition at least six times with Darva and I’m playing Dimitri for the fourth time. I’ve played that one the most by far.

04) Favourite race to play as?

Elves! I love the elves of dragon age so much

05) Favourite class?

Dual wielding rogue by far along with archers. Rogues are one my favorite classes ever. I do have a soft spot for mages and warriors thought

06) Do you play through the games differently or do you make the same decisions each time?

I try to make little sorts of different choices. I’ve both allied/conscripted the templars and mages before on different little games and I’ve both banished and kept the grey wardens. I’ve never put Gaspard on the throne himself, but I’ve done all the other ways Halamshiral can end up. I’ve only ever not drank from the well once and the was because I was playing a human. I try to mix it up a little each play through for variety sake. Plus I love Calperia’s story so much more than Sampson, so I do side with the templars on occasion. But I am a mage loving gay.

07) Go-to adventuring group?

My Origins go to gang for Eth is Shale, Wyne and Alistair and Slivayn is usually Wyne, Shale, and Zevran. DA2 is a whole grab bag of people, but I usually have one mage, one warrior and a rogue + my mage Hawke.  My crew for inquisition depends on who I’m playing. Darva mainly roles with Cassandra, Vivienne and Dorian while Dimitri runs with Iron Bull, Sera and Solas.

08) Which of your characters did you put the most thought into?

Dimitri and Darva are at a big ole tie with Eth coming in second place. Dimitri is my ever evolving kiddo mainly bc I play a TTRPG with him as my PC, but Darva is like that comfort character where I truly see myself in. Eth is my precious little complicated warden child who I revisit on occasion because I forget how much I do enjoy origins.

09) Favourite romance?

Oooo it’s a hard tie between Bull and Dorian. Dorian was really like that gateway--along with dragon age in general--into me making gay characters explicitly and having them represent me. He made me feel okay with who I am and seeing that blatant love between men was something I had never seen. It was kinda the same with Bull, but he was also like that shattering of men having to preform to a certain degree of manliness to be seen as valid. Bull is manly af, but he loves the color pink. Masculinity doesn’t have to be as society defines it.

10) Have you read any of the comics/books?

I have read the Magekiller comic, but that was about it. I wanna read the books, but having the energy to do it. Does reading the TTRPG book count? Or the World of Thedas books? lolol

11) If you read them, which was your favourite book?

I haven’t read any of the main book tbh

12) Favourite DLCs?

I loved the Return to Ostagar DLC. That one was full of a great atmosphere and just generally quite sad. I liked Mark of the Assassin best out of the DA2 DLCs because it was humorous as well as having good drama going on. A very fun time even though it was a bit of a pain. Trespasser is probably my favorite DLC for Inquisition mainly because of the run through the elvhen ruins at the end of the DLC to get to Solas. It’s throwing everything you have because this is the end at the enemy and I love that.

13) Things that annoy you.

Ehhh most of my annoyance come from the lack of mlm romance options in the game and the treatment of characters like Sera and Sandal who are coded as neutroatypical. But, most of my qualms come from fandom and the rampant homophobia, transphobia, racism and white-washing everyone does. Ya shitty fandom.

14) Orlais or Ferelden?

Ferelden, personally.

15) Templars or mages?

Mages as always.

16) If you have multiple characters, are they in different/parallel universes or in the same one?

I have multiple characters across two world states, my canon one being Eth Tabris, my dual wielding rogue warden who romanced Alistair, Bryn Hawke, my force/blood mage, who romanced Fenris and Darva Lavellan, my dual wielding rogue who romanced Dorian. I also have other Lavellan's that go along with Darva like Fisk and Livonah. Then I have an alternative world state with Slivayn Mahariel, an archer rogue who romanced Zevran, then Farlan Hawke, my two handed warrior who romanced Anders, and then Dimitri Enallasani, my mage elf who romanced Bull. Dimitri only has Daniel as his other sort of important character.

17) What did you name your pets? (mabari, summoned animals, mounts, etc)

Eth named her Mabari, Witt, after her brother who was sent to the Circle when she was 16. I cannot remember for the life of my what Bryn named his Mabari, rip. Darva ends up with a Mabari in Kirkwall just named Da’len. Slivayn named his Mabari Tamlen after his clanmate and lover. I can’t remember what Farlan named his Mabari, RIP. Dimitri has an Anderfels Hart he raises later on named Ghilan after his Keeper’s old Hart and he has a great horned owl named Falon who he rescued.

18) Have you installed any mods?

Nope! I play all my games on console, so no mods for me. I do want to get a good gaming computer after I graduate from college so I can indulge in some mods for Dimitri and Darva and learn fly cam. I would really like to have Dimitri’s vallaslin in the game and more dalish outfits for my kiddos. Alas, I am stuck with what I have for now.

19) Did your Warden want to become a Grey Warden?

Wanting to become a Grey Warden wasn’t something Eth thought about wanting or not wanting. She was ready to die for having saved Shianni and that would have been enough. She kept her safe and that was her duty. Duncan thought she was worth the risk and she accepted that if this was going to be her new duty, it was going to be her new duty.

Slivayn didn’t want to be a Warden at all. Duncan had to conscript him and even then he hated Duncan for a long, long time. He didn’t get to see if he could save Tamlen at all so he was intensely grieving and he was torn from the only home he had ever known. Ostagar was his first experience with humans who weren’t out to kill him and his family.

20) Hawke’s personality?

Bryn is firmly in the Purple Hawke camp, but strays into Blue on occasion. Farlan is a firm divide between Red and Purple.

21) Did you make matching armor for your companions in Inquisition?

Yes, omg yes. My quizzies have their own color palettes I work off of. Darva alternates between Bear Fur + Plush Fustian Velvet + Infused Vyrantium Samite + Blue Vitriol and Great Bear Fur + Darkened Samite + Silk Brocade + Blue Vitriol. Dimitri’s changes from Snoufleur Skin + Drakestone + Darkened Samite + Higher Weave to Great Bear Fur + Darkened Samite + Dragon Scale. aka, Darva wears a lot of deep browns, blues and greens and Dimitri is a lot of reds, blacks and oranges.

22) If your character(s) could go back in time to change one thing, what would they change?

Eth wishes she would have done more to keep Shianni safe along with the rest of the Alienage. Her biggest regret is that she allowed what happened to happen.

Bryn wishes he could’ve saved his family. He covers up a lot of his grief with humor and deflection, but he hurts a lot for what he did. Part of him wishes he had done better with his mother, but he wouldn't admit it.

Darva wishes he could’ve saved his father; he knows he was only fourteen and that he would have gotten himself killed, but at times he thought that a better fate than having to deal with his mother and her all encompassing, smothering grief. 

Dimitri wishes he could’ve saved his clan. He goes over what happened as much as he can, trying to piece together what he could've done to save his family. It’s his life’s biggest regret.

23) Do you have any headcanons about your character(s) that go against canon?

Oooo could Darva being trans be one? Idk, that's a headcanon that doesn’t much go again canon. Biggest one for him would be him leaving the clan at 18 and traveling around Thedas. 

Dimitri’s whole origins and magical usage is a big middle finger at the canon for the dalish inquisitor considering he is sort of his own sect of elves who are drastically different than their southern counterparts.

24) Who did you leave in the Fade?

Ooo Darva leaves Alistair in the Fade because I can’t bear to leave Bryn behind, rip. But Dimitri ends up leaving Loghain in the Fade. I can’t give up my Hawkes.....

25) Favourite mount?

Me personally? I love the Pride of Arlathan mount. Darva mainly uses that mount and it’s his favorite. Dimitri loves his horse, the Amaranthine Charger. But, later on he gets his Anderfels Hart--which is a sandy colored breed of Hart that is larger and tougher than others of it’s breed. They bond with only one rider in their lifetime and will stand their ground, full of as much conviction as the elves who originally bred them.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

422 of 2022

i don’t understand how people don’t care about music. it’s annoying when people post the same statuses all the time. i’m old enough to drink, but i don’t really drink much. i could eat mac & cheese every day. i am sick with a cold/sinus infection at the moment. ^i get them all the time. :( i’ve lost so many friends because they were “better than me”. i’ve lost so many friends because their boyfriends were “more important than me”. I love watching ‘Keeping Up with the Kardashians’. ^Scott’s a douche. i always feel like i have a fever, but i don’t. i really want (and need) to lose weight. moe’s is yummy! i know so many teenagers who are pregnant right now, it’s ridiculous. my cat is a creeper. my cat likes to growl at our neighbors. i love it! i really cannot stand rap. (the opposite) my cat likes to hide. sirius black is my favorite harry potter character. ^along with ron weasley. I’m currently procrastinating on something. i’ve been annoyed by everything lately. i’m addicted to using chapstick. my cat loves to watch deer in our backyard. i love my cat more than anything! i like irish & scottish accents better than english accents (no offense to the english). I don’t have a best friend. ^i used to, but they all seem to think they are “better than me”. i love getting those free victoria’s secret panty things in the mail. i have 300+ friends on facebook. night light is hilarious. i’ve been eating way too much chocolate lately. i know the correct pronunciation for saoirse ronan’s first name. ^ speaking of her, i thought “the lovely bones” was a good movie. i really want to watch “the last song” but i can’t stand miley cyrus. gaspard ulliel is hot. 'nough said! i’d much rather watch a gory horror movie than a cheesy romantic comedy. (rather nothing at all) Not a single person in my family has blonde hair and blue eyes. ^ In fact, all of us have dark hair and dark eyes. i enjoy listening to some of taylor swift’s songs, but i don’t really like her. adam lambert looks tons better without the heavy eye make-up. my favourite models are miranda kerr and coco rocha. it’s almost impossible for me to go to sleep before midnight. My cell phone has a touch screen and a QWERTY keyboard. (no AZERTY) My laptop/computer is not in my favourite colour. i have a few people from xanga added on facebook and msn. ^ and i’m also following a few of them on twitter. i haven’t watched my favourite tv show in quite a while. I want to learn French and Italian. They’re both such gorgeous languages. (nah we learn French in schools) i play mousehunt on facebook. i really, really, really need to go to bed right now. No one ever listens to me the first time I say something. ^Then I just say 'Forget it’ because I don’t feel like repeating myself. i can’t seem to find any surveys anymore. ^so i take my own. I honestly have no life whatsoever. i’ve read a novel by dean koontz before. i have a wireless mouse for my laptop. the cartoon mac and cheese tastes better than regular mac and cheese. random people follow me on twitter. i only know a few people in real life that i follow on twitter. i play games on club bing. people tend to gang up on me (by making fun of me). i don’t want to get married or have kids. i plan on becoming a crazy cat lady ;). i’m known for being sick a lot. I don’t really care about celebrities lives but I still go on the gossip sites. (you know how fun is to troll the comments while drunk? XD) i like different tv shows than my family does. ^so i always have to watch things alone. i like being a loner. I like Twilight, but I’m not obsessed. ^i like robert pattinson way before twilight anyways. formspring is stupid. hockey is the best sport. ryan reynolds is sooo sexy. ^thank you canada for both of those things! <3 i like reading outside when it’s nice out. something smells gross in my house. French is better than Spanish. People ALWAYS spell and say my last name wrong. (there are some alternative spellings in my language, so) ^Unless they are of the same ethnic background or know someone with the same last name. I still love watching animated movies. I have never broken a bone. ^But I have sprained my wrists and ankles more times than i can count. my pet is soooooooooooooo much different when he’s at the vet. (shameful fact, she pooped in the vet’s office one day while we were carrying her XD) i have nothing in common with my dad. one of my parents is laid off. i can’t stand when people tell me to “describe my pain”, i can’t. it fucking hurts, that’s it. every girl best friend i’ve ever had leaves me for their boyfriend. There’s a song that makes me smile every time I hear it. i’ve been awfully depressed lately. I wonder what kind of first impression I give. i don’t dot my i’s. i’ve never had a problem swallowing pills. my handwriting isn’t legible at times. I use Google every day, it’s so handy. i can’t use the internet on my phone. (something’s wrong with the settings) I don’t like when people get close to my face when they’re talking to me. someone keeps constantly letting me down. i’ve had a nightmare recently. i facebook creep on everrryone. i think i 'like’ too many people’s statuses on facebook. i hate pumping gas. i feel like i’m going nowhereeeee in life. if i don’t look absolutely perfect, i wont leave the house. I hate when pills have a yucky after taste. i’m allergic to cats. i haven’t really been myself lately, at all. i cry really really easily. I’ve met someone who looks like me. i’ve never been a huge fan of pda. I don’t like to kiss and tell. I have friends who consider me “one of the guys”. (it’s normal eh?) I wish I had $$$. I’ve applied to a lot of jobs recently. i hate getting lost while driving. i’d rather be the passenger in the car than the driver. I don’t understand why girls WANT to get pregnant so young. i won’t be a teenager on my next birthday. (lmao) i should be sleeping right now. i plan on buying the jersey shore when it comes out on dvd. the winter time makes me depressed. i own at least one sports bra. i could never be a vegetarian, ever. i’ll be old enough to vote in the elections this year. (lol) i prefer a tanning salon over natural sunlight. my school ends for the summer in june. i can’t walk up a flight of stairs without being a little winded. i don’t understand how some people could fail english class. (pass physics then lol) i can fit into a size two or smaller. i can eat anything i want without gaining a single pound. i don’t understand why some people freak out when two people of the same gender kiss. i wish they offered a language other than spanish or french at my school. (French is mandatory here as one of the official languages, they never offered Spanish, unless in private courses) i’ve called somebody a bad name before and meant it. somebody has called me a bad name before and meant it. i never have plans for the weekend. i’ve looked at somebody and thought, “i’d never want to be them.” mondays aren’t that bad. it bothers me when people claim to be “afraid” of falling in love. i think bruises are cool. i hate when people try to talk to me when i have headphones on. i have at least one fake designer purse. if you’re always worried about what could happen, you’re never going to have fun. i’m in my school’s band. i play an instrument but i’m not in the school band. it never snows where i live. (very rarely) i hate when girls freak out when their boyfriend even looks at another girl. i love wearing low cut shirts. i could never be a tomboy. the college i’m going to/want to go to is out of state. (yay the surveys made exclusively for American girls lmao) i just want to move out of my parents’ house as soon as possible. i’d never want to live somewhere where it is always hot. i trip over my own two feet. i want to be a model. i want to be an actress. i want to be a famous singer. i don’t see the point in wishing on 11:11. scene kids, please stop. i don’t have any school spirit at all. i hate coming home to a house with no food. i absolutely loathe waking up early. my foot usually finds small, sharp, pain inducing items. i’ve broken something that did not belong to me before. i hate gym class! i feel bad for people in wheel chairs. (well, I’ve been one of them before, so at least I know how it feels) i have a class ring. i plan on going to my high school reunion. i’m scared to go to the doctors because i’m paranoid they’ll give me really bad news. i work in a restaurant or cafe. i got a job because my parents made me. please, like i have a job. i have terrible balance. i attend parties and school related activities just for the high school experience. (I used to) i live with both my parents. it seems like there are more divorced people than married people. i have a nightly routine that i must follow. i live near a body of water. my parents have at least one bumper sticker on their car. my family has more than one vehicle. i hate public transportation (the bus). i’ve been to san antonio before. i’ve seen the alamo up close and personal. i hate the world and everybody living in it. people disgust me. everything on me has to match before i go out in public. i don’t understand girls who put make up on even though they’re not going to be leaving their house. (I don’t, but it’s their business after all) i can’t run for a long period of time. my parents won’t let me bring food up to my room. i eat in my room all the time. i don’t need a man to make me happy. (I just happen to have one and I am happy, but even if my life was different, I’d still be) that may be true, but i sure do love the man in my life right now! i prefer to eat out than cook something at home. anytime i don’t feel well, i check webmd. ^i am a hypochondriac. ^my family hates that i am. i am having back pain at the moment. i’ve had a teacher that i absolutely hate. i literally have a library of books. ^i love to read! i have a ton of chapstick. i have xm radio in my car. i wear a lot of earthy colors. i have a ton of dvds laying around that i still need to watch. my earphones block out all noises. my pet is really furry. ^and cute! i have a wireless mouse for my laptop. i procrastinate way too much. ^i’d like to change that. ^but i keep procrastinating. i’ve been having neck pain lately. ^and have no idea why. i am getting a new cell phone soon. ^mine is literally broken. people tell me that i’m hard to buy for. ^i don’t think i am. i got new sneakers recently. i used to hate american eagle, now i love it! i use hand santizer all the time. i am freaking tired. i own more than 10 pairs of flip-flops i am obsessed with tea i own a pez dispenser i dance a lot i have used my hairbrush as a microphone before i have watched monty python at least a million times i am a junior in high school i was voted prom king/queen i don’t/didn’t give a toss about school i have itunes on my computer i have played ddr before & i sucked at it i probably have every good cd known to man i love the movie ferris bueller’s day off i like techno music i have a fear of public bathrooms i’m a germ-a-phobic i wash my hands 30 times a day i have a graphic maker program i own an ipod nano i chew my fingernails i used to wear little boy underwear when i was young i love cookies i love my car i hate my car i have been to the cinema in the past month i have seen the hills have eyes eeyore is my favourite character from winnie the pooh i love monkeys i have about a million pictures of me and my friends in photobooth i am currently engrossed in something i am currently reading a book i visit the library regularly i’m always punctual, never late i wear my sunglasses at night i live in a very populated city i have never moved in my life i rock out to 80’s music i have more than 4 favourite radio stations that i listen to (lmao military radio) i read the daily newspaper i love my family i own over 10 shirts of the same colour i need to go to the post office and mail something i have a favourite actor i think this survey is stupid i can do a very impressive cat-call i have a brand spankin’ new computer i have a boy hair-cut or very short hair i can play the guitar i hate rock music i like talking about myself (but I like to listen to others more) i ride/rode a bus to school everyday i have a favourite movie that i watch over and over and recite the lines to i know a lot of html i have over 2,000 songs on my ipod Spotify i order pizza for dinner at least once a week i’m unhealthy i like to run with scissors i used to light the heads of my barbies on fire i like the band panic! at the disco (one song lol) i own a record player or records i was born in the '80s i own like every disney movie ever made i am a '90s child i have gotten straight a’s on a report card before i write or read fanfiction on a daily basis when i was younger i used to get tons of valentine’s cards and candy on v-day batman is my favourite super-hero i am obsessed with fortune cookies i have a corkboard i am very pale i like my eyes i get compliments a lot i need a haircut i have something to do other than take this survey right now i’m going out to eat tonight i go to the zoo a lot i have very thin hair i have a cool mousepad i’ve said “that’s groovy” in public before & i wasn’t embarrassed i have a diary someone has read my diary before without my consent i listen to hardrock & metal i have more than 5 pairs of sunglasses i’m an organization freak i prefer boxers to briefs i own a motorcycle my nails are long i love men in kilts i’m from irish or scottish descent i think i’m intelligent i can spell a guy’s smile is what really does it for me i have big feet i’m tall for my age (well, I’ve always been) i own cowboy attire i text a lot i wash my face daily when i run out of toilet paper, i always put the new roll back on its proper place i have really loud, obnoxious neighbors i spell the word 'color’ with a u i have a british accent i’ve made a snowman before i love margaritas john lennon is my favourite beatle i have band-aids with cartoon characters on them, not just the boring generic ones i’m wacky and you never know what i’m going to do next i’m only dating someone to make someone else jealous i’m eating something right now i love coffee mugs

[shannaraisles]

A Rose By Any Name - Chapter 14

In which Alistair does what a king does best (in theory) and encounters something he wasn’t expecting. Banner created by the superb @kagetsukai.

[Read on AO3] OR [Read from the beginning]

There was nothing worse than letting Maria down, Alistair had decided. But since this particular instance of letting her down actually involved her future, he thought he was allowed to feel slightly less guilty about it on the whole. That still didn't make telling her that their playtime was going to have to be postponed any easier.

"But ... you said we could play ..."

There was the pout, and the big eyes, and Alistair could feel the guilt coursing through him as he crouched down beside her.

"I know I did," he told her, sure that the best way to get through this was to admit he had done wrong and make sure he made it up to her later. "I'm a terrible cad, and you have every right to be angry with me. To make it up to you, I will set aside my entire afternoon tomorrow. Is that enough to earn your forgiveness? Please, please, pretty please, oh gorgeous little mischief Maria?"

The pout didn't last long in the face of his cajoling, breaking into giggles as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his shirt. Alistair grinned, hugging the little girl fondly in return.

"All right," she conceded. "But only if we get the whole afternoon, and you do the horsey thing."

"Again?"

But even he couldn't feign weariness with her favorite trick, which was to ride him like a horse until someone pointed out how undignified it was for the King of Ferelden to be galloping around the palace neighing. Alistair chuckled, nodding as he rose to stand once again.

"I bow to your whim, little lady," he promised her, raising his eyes to find Princess Fabs standing to one side. Unconsciously, his face lit up with a bright smile as he took Maria's hand to escort her to the princess' custody. "I give the marvelous madame of mischief into your care, Fabs."

The Antivan woman's smile seemed unenthusiastic in answer, a far cry from the warmth of the day before. "Thank you, your majesty," she answered, polite but cool.

Alistair's smile faltered. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, unable to keep himself from inquiring. "You seem ... out of sorts."

"Nothing that time will not heal, your majesty," she assured him, taking Maria's hand into her own.

"Alistair," he corrected her. "My name is Alistair."

"It does not seem appropriate that I call you by your name," Felicita told him quietly, glancing toward the ladies waiting for her, namely Ciara, Callista, and Ceridwyn. "You are the king, and I am merely a guest in your home."

Alistair stared at her, nonplussed by this odd sense of detachment. She'd been so warm, so lovely, and now ...

"Have I offended you, princess?" he pressed, his hand hesitating between them, wanting to take her hand but knowing that to do so would result in gossip he wasn't quite ready for. "If I have, there was no intention to -"

"Alistair!"

His jaw clenched at the peremptory call from behind him. Only one of his nobles did that, and with this unexpected council meeting looming before him, it did not bode well for the tone of the evening ahead. Felicita's expression turned to a frown as she looked past him to Arl Eamon, her gentle eyes hard for a long moment until Alistair heard his uncle stutter an apology. I really should learn how she does that.

"Your majesty ... I mean. Your council is waiting."

Let them wait, Alistair thought irritably. Fabs is upset about something and she won't tell me what it is. But Fabs was not going to tell him, it seemed, already lowering into a curtsy with Maria.

"We will not take up any more of your time, your majesty," she promised, her smile brightening as she looked down at her little companion. "We have things to do, don't we?"

Maria's face lit up. "Painting things?" she asked, squealing happily as Felicita nodded.

"Dare I ask?" Alistair grinned down at her.

Maria offered him a sweet smile in return. "No, because it's a secret."

"Ah, well, a lady must be allowed her secrets," he agreed affectionately. His gaze rose to meet Fabs' once again. "Though I hope she would share some of those secrets with those who care to know them."

He was pleased to see her smile in answer, though it was still not the smile he recalled from just a day ago.

"A lady would share everything with the one who loves her," she informed him candidly. "And it would be a pleasure to have such trust."

"It would," he agreed, relaxing his concern just a little, though confusion still tugged at his heart. There was a pointed cough from behind him, and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Forgive me, I really must go. Enjoy your evening, ladies."

He bowed to them - little lady, princess, and friends - and turned to stalk past Eamon toward the council chamber, inwardly berating his uncle. He'd never yet managed to say the words out loud, but just the fact that he was playing what he would like to say through his mind was a sign that things were definitely beginning to come to a head in that relationship. It was time Eamon stopped reaching for power that was never his to dream for, and with luck, this session would make it blindingly clear that the arl's star was fading.

That luck was definitely with him, it seemed. As soon as the doors were closed, Eamon started.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded, just barely preventing himself from pointing at Anora, seated demurely at the privy council table. "This is a privy council meeting."

"Teyrna Mac Tir is here at the king's invitation, Arl Eamon," Fergus Cousland said sternly, dropping into his own seat opposite Anora and beside Shianni Tabris.

"She resigned her seat!" Eamon protested, but didn't get any further.

Demelza had just walked in through the door he had closed behind them, her own closing sounding rather more final than his had. The elven Warden and Hero of Ferelden offered him a brittle, insincere smile.

"Oh, has the bitching started already?" she asked innocently. "What a shame, I do enjoy watching elderly men behaving like bigoted old farts in company."

Shianni didn't even try to hide her snort of laughter at this announcement; even Alistair had to fight not to let his uncle see how widely he was smiling. The privy council was a small group of trusted friends, and met very rarely - what they would be discussing was actually what Alistair would usually discuss with Eamon, Shianni, and his secretary, Cormac. Eamon had learned not to dismiss Shianni reasonably early on; it appeared that he had forgotten he was not the only voice in Alistair's sphere. While Fergus did not often have the leisure to come to the capital and join them, and Dem was a rare face in Denerim too, they both had as much, if not more, right to sit on this council than the arl himself.

"Do sit down, uncle," Alistair suggested, taking a seat himself.

He watched as Dem placed herself quite deliberately next to Shianni, leaving the only vacant seat the one directly beside Anora. Eamon's jaw twitched, but he kept his mouth shut, sitting down stiffly next to the teryna who, it had to be said, didn't look any happier with the seating arrangements.

Alistair nodded to each of them, sobering his expression. He wasn't wholly sure this council meeting was going to go well - Eamon seemed to be spoiling for a fight, no doubt hoping to regain a little of the dignity he had lost over the Rosamunde fiasco.

"Cormac?"

The king's personal secretary was seated beside him, ready with the matters that needed discussion and decisions made by this select group. He shuffled his papers a little nervously.

"Your majesty." Clearing his throat, Cormac looked around at the gathering of the privy council. "There are only a few matters that require input. For one, the appointing of a new Orlesian ambassador. Emperor Gaspard has appointed Lady Jolien De Valors to the position here at court - she is expected within a week."

"Lady Jolien is a known spy," Anora offered in a tone of vague suspicion. "Rather too well known to be given such a prominent position. I would suggest investigating the staff she brings with her for the true spy."

"Such suspicions merely show how deeply your father's prejudices are instilled in you, Anora," Eamon scoffed. "To assume that the Orlesians would send a spy to our court -"

"- is perfectly acceptable, uncle," Alistair pointed out. "Aren't you the one who told me that I must expect and accept the presence of foreign spies within the ambassadorial appointments to the palace?"

"There is no need for Orlais to place spies in the palace," Eamon answered. "We are allies."

"We are also allied with Nevarra and Antiva, and it is not unreasonable to assume they have agents among their people here," Fergus interjected. "It's a common political practice, Eamon. Far better to know which of the Orlesians needs watching than to let them pull the wool over our eyes with such an obvious appointment to the vacant position."

"With your permission, your majesty, I will coordinate with the spymaster and learn what we can of Lady Jolien's party," Cormac offered.

Alistair nodded, ignoring the annoyed expression on his uncle's face. He caught Shianni's eye, the familiar glint that told him she had something to say but needed to be invited to speak before she would interrupt.She had never yet volunteered her information without Alistair inviting her to, no doubt a holdover from her worst experiences before the Blight.

"There was some talk of the former Orlesian ambassador interfering in the running of the alienage," he said, giving the elven bann the invitation she needed. "Shianni?"

"We found the collaborator," the redhead said in her stern way. "A human merchant who employs some of my people was putting pressure on them to carry messages - threatening their homes, their jobs, that sort of thing. It's been passed on to the Bann of Denerim, but I can't say for sure he's done anything about it."

"I'll suggest he does," Alistair assured her. "I will not have the elves mistreated or made pawns in some elaborate game designed to make them the enemy, not again."

"Thank you."

Shianni nodded to him, glancing to Dem, who was smiling in approval. Having an elf in his inner councils hadn't been a shrewd political move, but it was one of the best decisions Alistair had ever made. There had been no trouble in the alienage for a decade, thanks to Shianni's ability to let him know when his human nobles were letting things slide. In fact, there had been very little trouble in any of Ferelden's alienages since it had become known that if the local bann or arl did not curb their human people's excesses, somehow word of it would reach the king, and he would very pointedly demand they did their duty.

"Is there any more news on the hunt for the assassin?" Alistair asked then, turning his attention to Fergus Cousland.

Fergus shook his head wearily. "Not a sign," he admitted. "We are rapidly coming to the conclusion that it must have been a freak accident. It's not entirely unfeasible that a fire was lit in that room erroneously, and if left unattended, burning wood could have jumped onto the rug and started the blaze."

"Wasn't the blaze started on the bed, though?" Dem asked in a curious tone.

"That's where the confusion comes in," Fergus admitted. "It is possible that Ceri's attempts to fight the fire before alerting anyone may have transferred the flames to the bed and thus made it worse."

"Ceri?" Dem repeated innocently.

Alistair bit down on his smile as Fergus flushed, stumbling over a correction to the familiar way he had spoken of one of the prospective brides. Not that the king minded at all; it was good to see Fergus finding some common ground with someone who was definitely determined to make him smile.

"I would suggest we maintain the close guard on the ladies, however," Fergus went on, rolling his eyes at the knowing trio of feminine smiles pointed at him from around the table. "We may yet have missed something, and it would be better to be safe, rather than sorry."

"True," Anora agreed. "One threat to our foreign visitors is permissible - a further suggestion of violence against them will have a devastating effect on our place in international politics."

"All right, maintain the watch," Alistair told Fergus with a nod. "But relax it a little where you can. Maria, in particular, is very uneasy to always be in the close presence of an armed soldier."

Fergus considered this for a moment before agreeing. "She is constantly in the presence of one of the other ladies, even at night," he conceded. "I can remove her bodyguard if it will make her more comfortable."

"Which rather neatly leads us into the next order of business," Cormac said smoothly, producing a collection of papers from his pile. "Inesa, Queen of Rivain, has agreed to the king's request to adopt Lady Maria as a ward of the Ferelden crown. She has sent the official documentation, including a signed affidavit from the Grand Cleric of Dairsmuid agreeing to the transfer of nationality."

"I do not see why that is a council matter," Eamon said in a dismissive tone. "Put the child in an orphanage and have done with it. She cannot be allowed to remain in close quarters with the king once he chooses his bride."

Alistair felt his jaw stiffen at the man's attitude. Has he not paid attention to any of the information we've been given about that little girl's life so far? Does he really think I would offer her sanctuary and then throw her away? He opened his mouth to respond ... but Anora was already speaking.

"I find it fascinating, Arl Eamon, that you are so ready to dismiss a child out of hand again," the blonde teryna commented in a deceptively mild tone. "One would have thought that your past experiences in such matters would have taught you to keep your opinions to yourself on this matter."

"I fail to see your point," was Eamon's cold answer, and Alistair found his gaze turning to Anora, surprised to see a glint of relish in her eyes.

"Let us revisit your past attempts, by all means," she replied, just as cold in tone as the arl sat beside her. "You were given charge of King Maric's second son; at the first test of your loyalty to the boy, you cast him away to the Templars and did not even appear to notice when they, in turn, gave him to the Grey Wardens. Indeed, you only became interested in him again when the fact of his existence offered you a path to power."

"How dare you -"

"And, of course, there is the way you have treated your own son," Anora continued, ignoring Eamon's spluttering indignation beside her. "Again, bowing to your wife's demands, you endangered Redcliffe and everyone living there by attempting to keep Connor's magic a secret, inadvertently placing yourself in mortal danger as well at a time of crisis for the country. As I understand it, you have not even spoken to your son since he was sent to the Circle, and do not allow many to speak his name in your presence. Did I forget anything?"

"Ooh, I know," Dem offered with a sweet smile. "He's just recommended that a little girl who has spent her life so far in a Chantry orphanage with no connection to anyone beyond a Reverend Mother with severe issues, by the sound of things, should be sent to another Chantry orphanage and forgotten by the one person who can make her life change for the better?"

"Ah, yes, of course." Anora inclined her head to the elven Warden. "Thank you. Well, Arl Eamon?" she added, turning to look at the man beside her once again. "Would you care to continue spouting nonsense designed to keep yourself in your position of influence, or would you rather shut your mouth and listen to what the king has decided?"

"I am merely attempting to point out that taking a child of foreign heritage and unknown parentage into the royal household is not a wise decision." Eamon cleared his throat, looking to Alistair. "We know nothing of this girl's background beyond what the Chantry has told us. She could be anything - if you take her into the royal family, she could be used as a weapon against us."

"Good points," Anora allowed, "but irrelevant. This is the king's decision, not yours, and by extending this offer, Alistair has clearly already made his choice."

"My advice is not irrelevant, my lady," Eamon began, but Alistair was already cutting him off.

"Enough, uncle," he said sharply. "Anora is absolutely right, my decision is already made. It was made as soon as I found out Maria has nothing waiting for her but abuse and loneliness. I maintain she will be a ward of the crown, she will have a place here in the royal household, and she will be treated as though she is a lady of the blood. I am not about to suddenly make her my heir - quite apart from anything else, that is the last thing I would wish on a little girl who just needs a family."

"You could place her with a family of good standing," Eamon pressed.

Alistair's expression turned stony. He had had enough of being talked over, of having his decisions questioned, of listening to Eamon drone on and on in the hope of wearing him down. Enough was enough.

"I am a family of good standing," he informed the older man. "The whole point of this ridiculous month - something you arranged and bartered for among the Landsmeet - is to provide Ferelden with a queen and me with a wife. Maria will have a mother and a father within a few months. She is staying with me, if she chooses to, and that is all I am going to say on the subject."

"What about Princess Felicita?" Dem asked, cutting over any further attempts by the arl to force his viewpoint on the gathering. "Word is she's offered the same sort of position in her own household to Maria."

"As I understand it, the Antivan ambassador was also sent word of Queen Inesa's decision," Cormac told her. "The princess is well-versed in the political landscape; it is likely she will understand the reasoning behind this choice."

Alistair hesitated, confused by the injection of information he hadn't yet been made aware of.

"I didn't know she'd ... Of course, Maria can make her own decision," he stuttered, pulling himself together with a frown. "What reasoning?"

Anora tilted her head. "Antivan politics is a dangerous game, Alistair," she explained, almost gently. "As much the princess may wish to offer the child safety at her side, as a princess of the Antivan blood royal, she cannot always assume that her side will be the safest place to be. Blood is a currency that is often paid in Antiva by the unwary and unwilling."

"Maria would be safer here," Shianni translated bluntly. "The princess probably already told her that."

Alistair's frown didn't immediately lift at this news, but it wasn't because of the obvious concern. Is that why Fabs was so cold with me just now? he wondered, thinking back on the strange interaction. Is she angry that Queen Inesa decided to give Maria to me and not her? But as soon as that thought trickled through his mind, another came to assuage the guilt. I can make it up to her. I'll just ... make sure she knows how welcome she is here. Can't propose, not yet, but I can make it clear I like her. Maria likes her. We could ... we could be a family. As a slow smile crossed his face, he heard Dem clear her throat, looking up to find his friend swiping her fingers across her mouth with a warning look in her eyes.

Realizing he was the center of attention for the entire table, Alistair echoed the motion, wiping the smile from his face as he nodded professionally.

"I trust that the princess will do as she sees fit," he said, hastily looking to Cormac for rescue. "Any further items?"

The secretary swallowed what looked like a smile of his own, lifting a piece of parchment weighed down by the heavy wax seal of the Inquisition.

"Inquisitor Lavellan is requesting permission to send an expedition into the Frostback Basin," he explained, drawing the slightly antagonistic silence toward himself. "It would appear they are in search of the truth behind the first Inquisitor's disappearance, and have funding from the University of Orlais."

As the details were shared and dissected, Alistair let the conversation slide past without much need to pay attention. In this, at least, he trusted this group to make the appropriate decision without his input. No, he was more concerned with Fabs and her apparent change toward him. Was she really so put out by having Maria's guardianship snatched away from her? And how could he put it right, he wondered. The time was fast approaching for him to make his decision, but without her consent, it would be pointless to declare it. So what should he do?

Whatever he decided, it would have to be something special. Something she couldn't misconstrue.

But how to do that, when he couldn't even get her name right?

[cryptixcreations]

Familiarity

Fandom: The Shadow (pulps)

Summary: After Zemba, Monsieur Robeq has some important observations to share with The Shadow.

Rating: Gen

Wordcount: ~3800

After reading #91: Zemba I was very concerned about Harry’s mental state and needed to write something. It took awhile but here is that something.

Also briefly references #71: The Plot Master

Read on Ao3

Hardly had Harry and Cliff left their cab in front of the Hotel Princesse before a second cab screeched to the curb behind them. From it alighted the tall, tuxedo-clad figure that they had, until that very hour, identified as Herbert Balliol and – more importantly – as The Shadow.

“Gentlemen!” Etienne Robeq called after them. He no longer pretended at Balliol’s English accent.

The agents paused and half-turned. Neither matched his smile.

Unperturbed, Robeq said, “I am glad I caught you. You are welcome to the suite for another day, it is paid through. That is the least I can do to make up for my subterfuge. I only ask that you pass a final message to your master, if you can, that Etienne Robeq desires a word with him before you leave Paris.”

“That can be arranged,” spoke a voice from behind Robeq. He whirled. Both he and the agents stared at the figure that stepped into the light.

Somehow, in the brief period between leaving the Palais and now, The Shadow had shed all signs of Zemba. His calm face now corresponded to no specific identity, but there was no mistaking the keen glitter of his eyes or the hawkishness of his profile.

He gestured with a left hand from which a fire opal glowed like a live ember. Robeq followed the silent instruction. He fell into step beside The Shadow. Tall and slender, impeccably tuxedoed, the two of them bore a superficial similarity; but there was a catlike smoothness to the way The Shadow moved that even the celebrated Robeq couldn’t match.

The lights of the Princesse were well behind them before The Shadow broke the silence. “Does this matter concern Gaspard Zemba?” He spoke in fluent French, and Robeq responded in kind.

“No. It concerns one of your men.”

The Shadow’s sharp gaze pierced him. His voice carried a steely edge to match. Robeq nearly flinched.

“How so?”

“They’re in no danger,” Robeq quickly assured. “I simply want to discuss Harry Vincent.”

The unsettling gaze left him. “I already know everything concerning Harry Vincent.”

“Then you are aware the boy is in love with you?”

If Robeq had expected a reaction, he was due for disappointment. The Shadow did not miss a beat when he replied, “He thinks he is in love with me.”

“What is the difference?”

“Love requires familiarity. I will protect my agents to the fullness of my power, and do what is needed to ensure their absolute trust in me, but I am not familiar with them. He knows little more about me than you do, now.”

Robeq nodded thoughtfully. “In that case, I misspoke. My apologies. The boy wants to be in love with you.” The Shadow did not reply, so Robeq continued. “It is clearer to me, now, why he looked at me the way he did – when he thought I was you. I admit I began to feel jealous. You should have seen–”

“He is fascinated by an idea,” The Shadow interrupted. “It will pass in time.”

“Given enough time, all things do,” Robeq acknowledged. “Even love cannot follow into the grave.”

A streetlight up ahead flickered.

“Emotional entanglements are messy and unstable. I would not willingly jeopardize my best agent for anything so puerile.”

Robeq laughed. Again The Shadow’s eyes bored into him, intense and inscrutable. Again the streetlight flickered.

“Something funny?”

“Yes. You. An interesting contrast – you are willing to risk his life, but not his heart, when he would gladly trust you with both and more. But you know that – you are, as you said, familiar with everything concerning Harry Vincent. Perhaps it is not for his sake that you worry?”

The Shadow stopped walking. The faulty streetlight gave out. Sudden gloom nearly swallowed him whole, all but an indistinct silhouette and eyes that burned like twin stars through the darkness.

“There is much you do not understand about the situation.”

It took every ounce of Robeq’s willpower not to shudder. “I am sure there is. I would not seek to interfere in such a private matter – I would not even mention it, you understand, except that I think I may have given the poor boy a little false hope by my deception.”

“And this is your attempt to minimize the harm?” The Shadow asked coolly.

Robeq shrugged. “I suppose it is.” He glanced at the luminous dial of his watch. “I must get back to the Palais. I left Monsieur le Prefet rather suddenly in order to catch you. One last thing only. You don’t ask for my advice–”

“I don’t.”

“–But I will give it anyway,” Robeq persisted. “I cannot tell you how to feel, but Vincent, he is a good man, and he is devoted to you. Speak to him. He deserves that much. If nothing else, grant his hopes the mercy of a quick death. Ah, but it is a tragedy, to say such things in a city of such romance…”

“Are you finished?”

“I am. Farewell, Monsieur L'Ombre. Until our paths might cross again.”

“Goodbye, Monsieur Robeq.”

Bright eyes watched Robeq depart. The streetlight flickered back to life. Even without the enshrouding darkness, The Shadow’s expression was unreadable.

In a fifth-floor suite of the Hotel Princesse, Cliff and Harry set about packing their trunks. Whether they were staying only one night more or two, they mutually agreed they would need but little, and it was always advisable to be ready to move out on short notice.

While they gathered their things, Cliff cast glances at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Finally, after an uncomfortable minute, he ventured to break the silence. “Robeq must’ve took a hell of a run-out to get here right on our heels.”

“Must have,” Harry responded. Cliff was surprised by the hollowness in his voice.

He tried again. “Do you think something happened after we left the palace?”

“Maybe.”

Cliff didn’t understand it. Normally, after a mission like this, Harry would be excited, downright voluble as he theorized on what they missed and how The Shadow must have pulled it off. This case especially was still rife with mystery. Harry should have been chattering ceaselessly. It was occasionally annoying, but Cliff would take that any day over this dead air.

One more try. Cliff forced a chuckle. “Say, that was a hell of a change the chief pulled off on the way here, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Cliff winced. Down to one mechanical syllable – and over one of The Shadow’s skills, a subject Harry was usually impossible to shut up about. Cliff let the silence simmer for a time while he mulled it over.

Softly, he said, “It wasn’t your fault, you know.” He didn’t wait for a response. “Falling for Robeq’s ruse, I mean, and following him instead of the chief. I know you noticed inconsistencies, but that doesn’t make you responsible for not figuring it out. If the chief had wanted to end it he could’ve done it at any time. We’re both in the clear.”

A beat followed after he finished, then, “I know, Cliff.” That was all. Cliff took the hint. They finished packing in silence.

Buying into Robeq’s ruse was only a minor factor in Harry’s melancholy. That they may have inadvertently upset The Shadow’s plans certainly bothered him, but that was a concern whenever he did anything that wasn’t strictly according to orders. That alone wasn’t enough to drive him so deeply into his own thoughts.

What was eating him up inside was just how badly he’d wanted the lie to be real. Riding in a cab with The Shadow, working alongside him, being able to watch him in action, even just being complimented over an independent plan – it had all felt so special.

Now, knowing that none of it was The Shadow at all, Harry had realized just how pathetically little it took to make him happy – and worse, that the real Shadow would never even go that far.

He should have known better.

He had the awful feeling that he was going to break down crying sometime that night, when the weight of his own miserable foolishness finally crashed down on him. For the moment, he just felt numb.

The phone rang. Seeing that Harry was undressing for bed – and hardly even seemed to register the ringing – Cliff answered it. He went stock-still the moment he heard the caller’s voice. Harry only noticed when Cliff spoke. “Instructions received.” A moment later, the phone was being handed to Harry.

It didn’t matter how many times he heard The Shadow’s whisper, the first sound of that grave hiss still ignited his nerves. Harry listened tensely. He repeated an address, then, “Instructions received.” The line clicked. Harry put the handset down slowly.

Cliff watched him, equal parts curious and concerned. “I’m guessing you didn’t get your time to yourself. I’m free to leave for home tomorrow or the day after.”

Harry shook his head. “I’m–” He paused, found his voice, and started again. “I’m to take a cab to that address and then walk from there toward the river. That’s all I know.”

“I’ll wait up.”

“No, you don’t–”

“Harry.”

Harry sighed as he finished re-dressing. He managed to offer Cliff a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Cliff.”

Cliff smiled back. “Hey – maybe it’s something good. Backup for routing one last caveau.” He made a broad gesture as if to indicate the myriad other examples that were escaping him.

“Maybe.” Harry didn’t sound hopeful.

Harry found the place he had been directed to with little trouble. It was simply a riverside pier. Naturally, at that time of night, it was poorly populated. At first glance it looked wholly deserted. The single humanlike figure, tall and thin and perfectly immobile before the barrier, seemed to be a trick of the dim lighting reflecting off the river. Harry knew better.

He had no doubt that The Shadow heard his approach. His footsteps on the wooden pier seemed to pound in his own ears. Still the figure ahead showed not even a waver. Harry felt himself tensing up more with every step. When he was within two yards, he had to stop. He didn’t dare speak.

The perfect stillness broke into easy motion, as though the scene were a movie that had simply been paused on a single frame. The Shadow spread his arms. One hand rested on the railing. The other, the left hand, beckoned. The flash of the girasol soothed Harry’s nerves enough to break his paralysis. He closed the distance until he stood at his master’s left hand.

The Shadow turned his bright eyes on Harry. “Report.”

Harry recalled the same order being given earlier that night, and again felt the sting of his own stupidity. This time he understood. With his eyes downcast, Harry began his report, starting from the time he and Cliff arrived in Paris.

He spoke automatically, only pausing to collect his thoughts, or when his voice wavered as he spoke of ‘Balliol’. He made no excuses. As much as Cliff had tried to reassure him, Harry couldn’t help but to shoulder the blame for their following Robeq. He never said the words, but the implication was throughout: He should have known better.

Once Harry’s report reached the Palais de Vraillard, he fell silent. He waited for… what? Admonishment? No, The Shadow didn’t reprimand, any more than he praised. His disappointment had to be inferred as much as his satisfaction. Harry had gotten very good at inferring from his master’s silences.

“Have you eaten?”

Whatever Harry had been waiting for, that wasn’t it. He blinked. “What?”

The Shadow calmly repeated his question.

The second time, it clicked. Even having just told of Cliff winning the dinner coin-toss and their heading for the Palais as soon as he returned, Harry had already forgotten that he hadn’t had dinner. Food was the furthest thing from his mind. He shook his head.

The lithe figure beside him moved away from the railing. “Come.”

Harry could only follow.

The cab ride that followed was a surreal experience.

For the second time in as many hours, Harry Vincent was riding in a taxi beside The Shadow. Except it wasn’t the second time, it was the first, and this time the experience wasn’t shared with Cliff.

The steady, profiled features were there, but they were distinctly hawk-like now, and the eyes glittered even in the gloom. (Harry couldn’t look at those features without wondering how he had ever mistaken Robeq for The Shadow. The pretended Balliol couldn’t hold a candle to his true master.)

Long, slender hands remained folded atop one knee, the left hand uppermost. The girasol caught the slightest passing light and threw it back as sparks of blue and red and purple. Harry had to keep looking at it. For all its strange properties, that magnificent fire opal seemed the only thing that was beyond a shadow of a doubt real. Only The Shadow wore that token. No imposter could hope to even come close to matching it. Harry couldn’t trust his own senses, but he could trust in the ever-shifting colors of that stone.

Still, he kept expecting to see Cliff at the other window, or to catch a glimpse of blue-tinted spectacles, or to simply wake up. The confidence that he had felt before, riding into danger beside the false Shadow, was nowhere to be found. Bewilderment made for a poor substitute.

His first realization that the cab had stopped was when firm hands gripped his upper arms and drew him to his feet. The grip remained on one arm, and Harry welcomed its steadying influence, both physically and in its familiarity. He let himself be led into a warmly-lit building, a small restaurant, and to a table set into a curtained-off niche. With the heavy curtains drawn, he was once again alone in a small space with–

–with The Shadow. The real Shadow. The Shadow, seated across from him, a slight smile fixed on his thin lips. With his left hand he slid a menu across the table.

“You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten.”

The hand remained on the tabletop, the girasol ever in view, as if he knew that Harry was grounding himself with it. (Of course he knew. The Shadow always knew.) Harry opened the menu without really seeing it.

Harry couldn’t recall later what he ordered. He vaguely recalled savory spices and something heavy and filling. The Shadow, however, ordered coffee and a dessert, and that part Harry remembered vividly. A small, round panna cotta in a bright red sauce, decorated with sugared berries and shavings of dark chocolate. It occurred to Harry that he had never seen The Shadow eat. Even in that action his neatness and precision put normal people to shame. Harry’s self-consciousness was not helped by the distinct feeling that The Shadow was watching him in turn, even though his gaze was always diverted when Harry darted glances at him.

(Actually, Harry had seen The Shadow eat, but this was the first time he did so knowing it was The Shadow. The connection between his occasional friend Lamont Cranston and his employer had escaped him, for the moment.)

Afterward, sipping at a coffee that The Shadow ordered for him, Harry had to admit he did feel better. The situation was still unprecedented, but his mind was no longer whirling, and he didn’t have to look at the girasol quite as often to reaffirm his handle on reality.

“Monsieur Robeq went out of his way to speak with me tonight.” The Shadow’s tone was calm, but Harry still stiffened at the first syllable. “What is your opinion of Robeq?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Monsieur Robeq seems to be a competent detective.”

“I asked your opinion of Robeq, not your assessment of his skills.” A note of amusement softened any bite the comment might have had.

Harry took a sip while he tried to find the right words to convey his feelings towards the imposter.

“I dislike him.”

His answer was met with a whispered laugh that raised gooseflesh on his arms. “Indeed. And before the revelation in the palace?”

Harry hesitated. He stared at the tabletop. “I thought he was you.”

“Comparatively, then.”

The wood grain didn’t line up perfectly where the pieces had been attached. Harry’s eyes followed lines that abruptly stopped and picked up in just slightly the wrong place. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, tried again and again failed. What was he supposed to say?

The familiar glimmer of the girasol flashed at the edge of his vision, breaking in on his reverie. The Shadow’s left hand was urging his mug toward the tabletop. Harry realized his hands were trembling. He set the mug down.

“That was an unfair question,” The Shadow said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I apologize. Monsieur Robeq worried his impersonation may have done you harm. Clearly his concerns were not unfounded.” He considered for a moment. “You preferred Robeq’s Balliol–” Harry opened his mouth to protest. “–in certain ways, for certain actions. Enough that it was crushing to discover the actions were not mine.”

Harry closed his mouth.

“That distresses you. You’re torn between your loyalty to who I am and your desire for me to be otherwise. To be more as Robeq portrayed me.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to nod. Confirmation seemed unnecessary, anyway. The Shadow knew.

Another contemplative silence.

“Robeq is of the opinion that you are in love with me.”

Harry’s hands curled into white-knuckled fists; he felt the blood drain out of his face and heard his heartbeat pound in his ears. He stared across the table with wide, panic-stricken eyes. The Shadow wasn’t looking at him. He was turned to the side; those bright eyes were fixed on the heavy curtain defending their privacy. He continued as though he hadn’t noticed Harry’s reaction.

“Should he be right, it is only natural you should have felt encouraged by indications of a more open and demonstrative attitude. You have worked closely with me in the past – even attended me while injured – but there have always been certain limitations to our interactions. Nevertheless, it is not unthinkable that I might relax those limitations, particularly in this new setting. Finding that I had not would, naturally, be disappointing. Doubly so if Robeq’s conclusion is correct.”

Harry slowly unclenched as he listened to The Shadow’s measured voice. Relief at the lack of reproach or judgment was quickly supplanted by confusion, and then realization. The Shadow was very deliberately not noticing Harry’s responses, very deliberately remaining vague, very deliberately emphasizing the if. He was giving Harry a chance to deny it. In the midst of his reassurances, he had left Harry an opening to shoot down Robeq’s 'opinion’ and end the conversation there.

Harry’s mouth was dry. He took a sip of coffee.

The Shadow continued. “If he is correct, I must point out that a closer relationship would be highly inadvisable. The limitations I place on my dealings are not flexible. You had a demonstration of that tonight; you have had clearer demonstrations in the past. My relationships are limited by necessity. The more you – or anyone – might know about me, the more danger there is, for myself and for others. Lives would be jeopardized. It is not an environment conducive to… familiarity.”

At length The Shadow fell silent. His left hand flexed long fingers against the tabletop. He still didn’t look at Harry. The way out was still on the table, if Harry wanted it.

A closer relationship would be inadvisable, dangerous, limited, difficult… but not out of the question.

“May I speak frankly?” Harry surprised himself with his steadiness.

“Of course.”

Harry took a deep breath. His nerve would break if he looked up, he knew it would, so instead he spoke toward his coffee mug. “I swore my life to you. I’ve never regretted it. Robeq is right. I am in love with you. I consider myself–” He blushed and soldiered on. “I consider myself yours, body and soul. What that entails I’ve left to you. If– if we can never have anything more than we do now, I can accept that. As long as you’re a part of my life, I’ll be happy.” He licked his dry lips. “But I did hope– I have hoped. With Robeq, that hope felt… a little more within reach.”

Moments stretched agonizingly long between them. Harry still didn’t dare look up. His heart hammered.

Finally, The Shadow spoke, low and softer than Harry had ever heard. “It’s impossible for me to give you anything like a normal relationship. You know that.”

Harry had tried to keep his hopes from rising too high, but still they had a long way to plummet, and they carried his heart down on the way. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

Too much significance in those two little words. Harry looked up, finally, to find The Shadow watching him. His eyes flashed as they met Harry’s.

Oh.

A hesitant smile began to brighten Harry’s face.

“I understand,” he repeated. This time, he did.

A nod. “Think this over. Not just now, tonight, but in the days to come. I can’t make you any promises for the future. I can’t promise much more than I give you now. All that I can promise is that this will not be easy. As much as…”

The thought hung unfinished. A soft sigh hissed from The Shadow’s lips. He placed his hand over Harry’s, lacing their fingers together. The girasol glinted from between Harry’s fingers. He stared at it in wonder. The Shadow considered their hands as well before he spoke again.

“I allotted five days to catching Zemba. That leaves tomorrow free. I should like to spend it with you.”

Harry broke into a laugh that was half joy and half relief. Grinning, not trusting his voice, he nodded eagerly.

The whispered chuckle that responded was all pleasure.

Harry was light-headed but steady as they left the restaurant; nevertheless, The Shadow’s hand lingered on his back, conducting him as far as the open door of a cab.

“Get some sleep,” The Shadow ordered. “I will meet you in the lobby of the Princesse in the morning. Remember, think seriously on what I have said.”

He watched as the cab pulled away, smiled slightly as he saw Harry looking back. When intervening traffic broke the line of vision, he took the opportunity to slip into darkness. The smile faded. For once, his eyes betrayed uncertainty. Alley walls echoed back an apprehensive laugh.

He’d just agreed to change everything with the most important person in his life. He couldn’t pretend that his own selfish desires had nothing to do with it.

All he could hope was that he wasn’t about to ruin it all.