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Sentimentality [Complete]

Kiley Daire

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#1
(( Satinalia, Evening, @Teagan Guerrin ))

She had been surprised she had been able to find the things she had in Redcliffe village. Trade seemed to be flowing better this far south than she expected. The day before she had spent the afternoon in the village shopping, and while most of the items she got were things she would need for her stay that she hadn't brought with her, a few of them were perfect gifts for her host. Satinalia was just a good excuse to purchase them, and it also came with the benefit of wrapping paper being available. Painted paper with abstract silver splashes.

Wrapping the book had been easy, the white ribbon easily holding together all the sharp lines. The bottle was not so neatly wrapped, the paper more crumpled than she would have liked for the gift. Still, she tied the ribbon around the top as neatly as she could and hoped he wouldn't mind the crumple of the paper around the bottle.

The whole idea felt silly, but she wasn't with her sister on this holiday, and she wanted to let Teagan know she appreciated him having her as his guest. It was polite after all. So when the evening came, and dinner had been concluded, she went back to her rooms to grab the packages and attend him in his office. It was supposed to be further discussion of her duties while here, though they had spent a portion of the day earlier doing just that. An evening drink before bed would be nice, but she hoped that he found the gifts a nice surprise.

She arrived at his office and knocked on the door, waiting for his permission to enter. Once given she walked inside, the gifts under one arm, and a smile on her face. "I hope your dinner is settling well, my lord."

She was dressed in her usual garments, vest and blouse, pants and boots. Hair back in a braid, and resting against her back. She moved forward, resting the gifts on the desk in front of him, "There's no way I could have hid them behind my back, so I hope you don't mind. Happy Satinalia, Teagan."

She took a seat in a chair in front of his desk, though didn't sink back into it. Instead she sat on the edge, her hands folded in front of her as the excitement shone on her face.
 
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Teagan Guerrin

Arl of Redcliffe
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33
#2
It’d been rather nice to have company in the evenings.

With Breanna back in Rainesfere and Catriona in Orlais, he’d fallen into the habit of taking his meals in his own chambers, accompanied only by a stack of paperwork. If either of them knew, he was certain he would be reminded of his late brother’s condition, and of his own migraines. But he’d been behind after leaving Redcliffe for so long, and every lonely meal had been an opportunity to catch up--and more importantly, an opportunity to avoid reflecting on recent events.

But it would have been rude to deny a guest the chance to share a meal, and so he’d invited Kiley to his table the past few nights. Conversation was light and pleasant, and he’d actually had cause to enjoy his food--and the wine poured alongside it--rather than simply eating for the sake of getting something on his stomach.

Tonight had been much the same, though there was the added pressure of it being Satinalia. No, not pressure, he supposed. No one had pressured him into the gifts that now sat wrapped just beneath him, leaning against his desk. It wasn’t a sense of obligation that precluded their existence, but rather a deep gratitude.

At first, he’d hired Kiley largely for her own benefit. She said she’d needed work she could believe in--work that was truly worth something beyond petty political moves. But as the situation with Breanna progressed, he’d found that having her help was a great relief. He trusted her with something that was precious to him, and thus far she had not disappointed.

With Satinalia looming, it had seemed obvious to give her something as a show of that gratitude and appreciation. Deciding exactly what that something would be had taken some time, but Teagan was pleased with his choices. So pleased, in fact, that he’d very nearly presented them over dinner.

But he’d known they were to meet afterward, and as his office offered a bit more privacy, he’d kept himself from spoiling the surprise. The gifts still sat out of sight when he permitted her entrance, though Kiley could not claim as much.

His lips quirked in amusement as he saw the ornate paper wrapped around two gifts. One was quite obviously a bottle, the wrapping doing little to disguise it. The other could be anything, though, and a boyish curiosity took hold as he stood to greet her.

"I hope your dinner is settling well, my lord."

“Perhaps a bit too well,” he said with a smile. “That last glass of wine was one too many, I think.”

His smile grew when she approached with the gifts, setting them on his desk. "There's no way I could have hid them behind my back, so I hope you don't mind. Happy Satinalia, Teagan."

“I have a difficult time believing the infamous Kiley Daire could not conceal a couple of gifts,” he teased. “It is almost as if you want me to see these. Possibly even to open them.”

Tone sobering, he spoke even as he reached beneath him, his fingers brushing the smooth, decorative paper. “I hope you know there is no need. Your work and your company have been gift enough. That said…” He retrieved two packages, one of which was perfectly rectangular and fairly light, while the other was less so, “it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to turn them down.”

Gifts in hand, he moved out from behind his desk and offered them to her with a warm smile, the golden painted designs on the ivory paper catching the light from the candles. “Happy Satinalia, Kiley.”
 

Kiley Daire

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#3
Perhaps a bit too well,” she wasn't sure if his tone was just playful, or playful honesty. “That last glass of wine was one too many, I think.

She glanced at the obvious wrapped bottle, and laughed softly, "That's too bad, and here I was hoping we could share a nightcap."

I have a difficult time believing the infamous Kiley Daire could not conceal a couple of gifts,” Her eyes rolled up a little playfully, but she did feel heat rise in her cheeks at the tease. “It is almost as if you want me to see these. Possibly even to open them.

"Well, that is the point of a gift is it not? To open them?" she countered, looking perfectly playfully aghast.

I hope you know there is no need. Your work and your company have been gift enough. That said…” She was too excited about the gifts, and was seated by the time he pulled out what appeared to be his own wrapped gifts. The gold swaths across the paper mirrored the silver ones of hers in a way, and she laughed softly. It was contrast to their personalities she thought, Teagan working in the open as if during the day, her working in the dark as if in the night. “it would be incredibly hypocritical of me to turn them down.

He moved over to her to hand them to her directly, and she took them gingerly as she could considering their weight. She rested them on her thigh, trying to make a guess at exactly what they were, but she could not imagine what he thought she would like. No matter what was hidden by the paper, she would cherish them, whatever they might be. His voice was warm, and she looked up at him when he spoke, “Happy Satinalia, Kiley.

She let her thumb run along the edge of one of the gifts as she cast her eyes down again. She shook her head laughing softly, "It seems we've both surprised one another."

When she looked up at him again, a mischievousness in her eyes. "As I presented mine first, I must insist you open them first. I promise I won't delay opening these to much longer after. But I am very proud of my selections, you see."

She paused for just a brief moment, laughter edging around her words, "And I'm afraid I might burst if you don't go first."
 

Teagan Guerrin

Arl of Redcliffe
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#4
She seemed genuinely pleased by the fact that he’d not only remembered Satinalia, but had taken the time to get her something. In Teagan’s mind, it was no large feat. It had not cost him an excess of time or coin to do so, and he’d wanted to show Kiley that her work and her presence was appreciated.

"It seems we've both surprised one another,” she said, her finger tracing one of the packages.

He hoped it was not that much of a surprise, but then he could not say he minded. He rather enjoyed surprises, both giving and receiving them. And this one was particularly exciting--he couldn’t wait to see Kiley’s reaction to what he’d chosen.

For now, there was an abundance of mischief that made Teagan arch a brow. "As I presented mine first, I must insist you open them first. I promise I won't delay opening these to much longer after. But I am very proud of my selections, you see."

His smile broadened, creasing the corners of his eyes. “Is that so?”

"And I'm afraid I might burst if you don't go first,” she added, practically vibrating with excited energy.

There was something decidedly girlish in the way she laughed, and the light that shone in her eyes. It wasn’t something juvenile, but merely a sense of wonder and glee that was so difficult to find in adulthood.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for such a tragedy,” he remarked, picking up the more obvious of the two gifts. He pulled one end of the ribbon, untying the bow with one fluid motion. The paper was crumpled around the shape of the bottle, and he searched out the seam to open it. “What is this, I wonder? Ah, I know. A new set of utensils. You’re quite right. So many of mine are chipped.”

Inside was--to no one’s surprise--a bottle.The fact that it was filled with whiskey was not especially shocking either, but gifts did not need to be startling to be appreciated. Teagan lifted the whiskey from the painted paper and examined it with care. It was an older bottle, per the engraving, yet still in pristine condition. The sides of it were formed almost like the sides of a diamond, permitting a lovely view of the amber liquid within.

“Ah, the Anderfels,” he remarked, noting where it was made. “It is rare a bottle makes its way this far south.” He’d only had the opportunity to partake twice that he could recall. “I would pour some for us both, but I don’t wish to incite the aforementioned bursting by not opening the second gift first.”

His tease was accompanied by a smile, and he set the bottle down on the corner of his desk before reaching for the other package. It was not particularly heavy, and the shape made it easy to find the crease. Sliding his finger beneath it, he unstuck the paper and carefully unwrapped the offering to reveal a book.

Not just any book, however. This was an account of the Grand Tourney, and particularly of the Champions that competed in it. His expression changed as his fingers traced over the smooth cover, the illustration of armored fighters with weapons drawn.

His heart squeezed in his chest, his mind conjuring memories of his time in the Free Marches, and how desperately he’d longed to be a part of the tournament. Until he and Eamon returned to Ferelden, it had been one of his greatest aspirations. A foolish one, his brother always said. And yet he’d held on to that childish hope, eventually turning it into something useful with his own training.

Teagan was at a loss for words, and for several long moments he merely stared at the book. Finally he looked up at Kiley, managing a handful of words. “Thank you… I don’t know quite what to say. I must have rambled on about the Grand Tourney at some point, but this is… a very thoughtful gift, Kiley.”

So much so that he was tempted to think it was merely luck. But that would be an insult to her ability to glean and retain information. There was no way this was mere luck, and the fact that she knew enough about him to choose such a gift made his own feel wholly inadequate.

He opened the book, inhaling the scent of the pages, smiling at the painted illustrations that accompanied what appeared to be various tales of the Champions. Yes, his own gifts did not compare. He would have to learn more before she left, and perhaps give her a comparable gift before she returned to Hafter’s Bend.
 

Kiley Daire

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#5
He seemed amused at her excitement, the smile on his face reaching his eyes and making the corners crinkle just so. It pleased her that he seemed to find delight in it, and he picked up the bottle first, “Well, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for such a tragedy.

He untied the ribbon, a slid the paper loose, not tearing it at all. Her hands clutched her knees as she watched his face, feeling silly but not really caring. She wanted him to like what she had gotten him, not to gain favor, but to actually see him smile over something small. To take his mind off the actual reason he was here, which was a threat to someone he loved dearly. Not because she wanted him to not think about his daughter, but more because she wanted him to have a break from that worry. Satinalia had really given her the perfect reason to do that. “What is this, I wonder? Ah, I know. A new set of utensils. You’re quite right. So many of mine are chipped.

She gave a soft laugh, "Yes, what better gift to give your host but something that says his home is lacking."

He examined the bottle, taking a moment to focus on the label and the design. She began to chew her lower lip, but he seemed pleased with the choice. It wasn't the whiskey that she was most excited about though, hoping that the book, a departure from his everyday ledger reading would be a welcome thing.

Ah, the Anderfels,” It had been rare luck to find it on the shelf, the only bottle from the Anderfels they had. She had parted with a good amount of coin for it, but she thought it was worth it. “It is rare a bottle makes its way this far south. I would pour some for us both, but I don’t wish to incite the aforementioned bursting by not opening the second gift first.

She shook her head, canting her head to the side as she teased him right back. "But I thought you had too much wine with dinner?"

He picked up the book, and set about carefully unwrapping it. That playful smile on his lips changed when he saw the cover, and she watched as he moved his fingers over the cover. Had it been a poor choice? She had remembered pieces of conversations from here and there, mentioning his own time in the Free Marches as a contrast to hers. She pulled her lips in her mouth as she waited for him to say something.

It took some time, but his eyes finally met hers, “Thank you… I don’t know quite what to say. I must have rambled on about the Grand Tourney at some point, but this is… a very thoughtful gift, Kiley.

She let out the breath she had been holding, "You mentioned your time there once or twice when we talked about my travels, and you seemed fond of being there. I'm glad you like it, I thought it could break up some of that reading for work you have been doing an awful lot of as late."

He took a moment to flip through it, and she grinned as he took in a breath through his nose to smell the paper. She looked down at the gifts on her lap, and picked up the lightest one first. Looking over at him, she smiled brightly, "I promised I wouldn't wait too long, so, let's see what's in these."

She unwrapped the first, though she had no guess as to what it was. The paper was put beside the chair, and she had been just as careful not to rip it as he had. What she held in her hands was a framed sketch, the paper pinned inside showed a large river in the foregrounds, with what looked to be another one further in the distance. It took her a moment to realize it was one of the rivers outside of Wycome, "This is... I remember going to watch those rivers and wish I were back home next to the Hafter. This is lovely, Teagan, thank you. Did you draw this?"

They had made her homesick and helped her get through that homesickness just the same. While she wasn't homesick now, she thought it was a lovely gesture calling back to her time in the Marches. She set the frame on the edge of his desk, thinking the floor was a terrible place to put it. She hefted the next package, which was much heavier and oddly shaped. She set about unwrapping it as delicately as the first, glancing up at him occasionally with a bright smile on her face.

When the paper finally opened up to her, she was surprised at what she saw. Two daggers in scabbards, the leather of them well made. But it wasn't the scabbards that interested her. No, the one on top had a sparrow worked into the hilt, lined in silver set against black. She pulled it free from its home, and let out a small gasp. It shone red, the curve of the blade almost appearing to match a bird's wing in flight. She tested the balance, and it was perfect. It was a great contrast to her current set, the dark green of the veridium and the very obvious patterns of her family heritage set into hilt and scabbard. She slid it back into its home, the smile splitting her face. That dagger was her more than the daggers she already owned. A fitting thing for the work she had been doing now and would continue doing. The red steel also set it apart, something that tied her to Teagan in her mind. Her mentor, her friend. Despite the pang that thought struck in her heart, this trip to Redcliffe was turning out to be one of the happiest trips in her memories.

But the dagger had a mate, in the same kind of unassuming scabbard of well handled leather. This one had her heraldry on it as well, and she wondered when he could have commissioned these. Were these intended as a gift for her before he had even invited her to Redcliffe? When she pulled it free, its curve and color matched the other. Balance was tested as before, and she could find no fault in it. Not wanting anything to dull the edges, she slid it back in the scabbard.

She gently set both of them on the desk next to the framed drawing, and stood up moving over to him. She hoped it wasn't a breach of their unspoken rules, but such gifts deserved a proper thanking. She pressed up on her toes just a little and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a warm hug, "They are amazing gifts, Teagan. All of them. That you took the time to have them made, it means the world to me."
 

Teagan Guerrin

Arl of Redcliffe
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#6
"You mentioned your time there once or twice when we talked about my travels, and you seemed fond of being there,” she explained, and Teagan smiled. “I'm glad you like it, I thought it could break up some of that reading for work you have been doing an awful lot of as late."

“Indeed,” he said with a slightly exaggerated groan. There was a stack of paperwork on his desk that could attest to such a reality. “This will be far better reading, thank you.”

He looked down at the book one last time, until Kiley made to open her own gifts. Placing to gently on his desk, he watched with no small measure of anticipation, his gaze more on her face than the finely-wrapped present she was taking such care with unwrapping.

The moment recognition flared in her eyes made the time he had taken to sketch the drawing certainly worth it. "This is... I remember going to watch those rivers and wish I were back home next to the Hafter. This is lovely, Teagan, thank you. Did you draw this?"

“I did,” he said, dipping his head. He’d always been somewhat humble regarding his skills, but not so much that he would ever deny it. “From memory, I’m afraid, so the accuracy may not be especially authentic. But the fact that you recognize it is all that matters.”

Teagan felt a sudden influx of nerves as she opened the other package, the shape of it doing little to give away what lay within. The daggers were something he had commissioned after their talk, when she’d expressed a desire to choose her own, more meaningful work. A bit of extra gold had them finished in time for Satinalia, and they’d turned out exactly as he’d imagined when he’d given the smith the specifications.

Whether they were to Kiley’s liking remained to be seen, and the surprise that registered on her features had him holding his breath. A smile spread across her lips as she withdrew the sparrow-inspired dagger from its scabbard, and Teagan visibly relaxed, settling in to enjoy the extent of her reaction.

She tested the blade with expert motion, and it seemed the weight had been made exactly as he’d instructed. The dagger’s companion was similarly weighted, though of a simpler design. Both were well matched in red steel, he thought; a sentimental nod to their agreement.

Setting the daggers on his desk with the framed sketch, Kiley stood and embraced him. "They are amazing gifts, Teagan. All of them. That you took the time to have them made, it means the world to me."

The sincerity in her voice was difficult to ignore, and it was clear he’d chosen the right gifts. Not that the warm hug didn’t express that just as well. And for as much as he’d grown up without such affection, he’d become accustomed to it over the last two years. Enough to appreciate the gesture and return it, his arms coming around her in a similar embrace.

“I’m very glad you like them.” He pulled back then, smiling. “The daggers were commissioned after the last time you were here. It was providence--and a bit of incentive--that they were done in time.”

He was still touching her, he realized, his hands remaining on her arms as he’d drawn back. Teagan’s eyes met her light green ones, and he suddenly became very aware of how close they were.

Clearing his throat as though he’d intended to do so, Teagan withdrew and turned to the bottle he’d placed on his desk. “As for my earlier comment, whiskey is quite a different beast. A glass will not kill me, though too much wine just might.”

He unstoppered the bottle and poured for both of them, handing a glass to Kiley before he lifted his own to his mouth. He drew in the scent of it, then took the smallest taste to savor the rich, almost smoky liquid.

“I am curious to know where you found that book,” he said once he’d finally composed himself.
 

Kiley Daire

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#7
I did,” he said when she asked if he drew the framed image, her smile bloomed a bit wider at the thought he took the time to actually make something for her, “From memory, I’m afraid, so the accuracy may not be especially authentic. But the fact that you recognize it is all that matters.

"It matches my memore, but it has been a few years since I saw them. You rendered it beautifully, Teagan," She had no problems heaping the deserved praise on him. It was a skill she did not possess, and one she now admired about him.

She took the time then to open the rest of her gifts, the blades beyond beautiful and feeling like something that was her own, instead of something that marked her family status -- despite the heraldry on one of them. After examining both she stood, hugging him and thanking him.

He hugged her back, and she while it was likely selfish of her, she took the moment to enjoy having such close contact with him. It was not the kind of contact she craved, but it would be the only kind she would likely ever get from Teagan. He pulled back and she stepped back enough to create a small space between them, arm retaining their hold, “I’m very glad you like them. The daggers were commissioned after the last time you were here. It was providence--and a bit of incentive--that they were done in time.

"They are beautiful, and deadly it seems, my lord. That you would have commissioned them so far back... I have no words," she looked over to the daggers, and then back up at him.

Eyes connected briefly and she thought she saw something pass in his. He was pulling away and clearing his throat as he took hold of the bottle she had gifted him. Likely whatever she saw was a trick of the light. The boundaries here were very clear, but Maker it was going to be a difficult month for her. Maybe she should steal away down to the village and find someone to work out this growing frustration inside of her. Her fingers touched the collar on her neck briefly, before dismissing the thoughts that threatened by remembering it's owner.

As for my earlier comment, whiskey is quite a different beast. A glass will not kill me, though too much wine just might.” He said, as he began pouring each of them a glass.

She laughed softly, moving back to her seat to put further distance between them. "My sister has the same problem with wine, I believe. Whiskey won't leave her with a headache the next day, but wine certainly will."

She took the offered glass, taking a small sip herself. It was a good, rich whiskey. A lot more flavor in it than she was used to. It would be best to take it slow so she didn't find herself pushing the boundaries between them.

I am curious to know where you found that book,” he asked after a long moment of silence while they enjoyed the whiskey.

"The dwarven bookseller in the village actually. He was quite proud of his rarer tomes, but I insisted on that one. Which I found after a long perusal of his shelves without his assistance," She lifted a brow, rolling her eyes slightly. "It seemed he didn't believe I would actually purchase anything and ignored me until I found something suitable. Then he tried to ply me with more expensive books I had no interest in."
 

Teagan Guerrin

Arl of Redcliffe
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#8
"My sister has the same problem with wine, I believe," she said with a soft laugh. "Whiskey won't leave her with a headache the next day, but wine certainly will."

"Likely because it can be so damnably sweet. That is why I drink dryer wines now, or none at all. I suppose it is accepted in polite society that a man will not break out the decanter of whiskey until after dinner," he said with a mischievous grin, leaning against the front of his desk as he raised the glass to his lips.

It was a strong variant, rich and finely aged. The familiar burn was slow and subtle, sneaking up on him well after he'd swallowed the dark amber liquid. It provided some level of clear-headedness, chasing away lingering thoughts he wasn't allowing himself to have. A few still lingered, however, and Teagan asked a question that might help direct the moment to a more casual space.

"The dwarven bookseller in the village actually. He was quite proud of his rarer tomes, but I insisted on that one. Which I found after a long perusal of his shelves without his assistance," Teagan laughed softly. "It seemed he didn't believe I would actually purchase anything and ignored me until I found something suitable. Then he tried to ply me with more expensive books I had no interest in."

"He treats everyone that way, I'm afraid. Lest you think he was being rude only to you," he said with a grin. "The last time I visited, I was trying to find a book for Breanna's mother."

There was a brief pause before he offered even that much. It wasn't that he felt uncomfortable speaking of her in Kiley's presence. They'd spoken at length on the matter before--as much as he was ever going to speak about it with someone who was not Catriona or Breanna. But the wound was still fresh, and the idea of what might have been still taunted him.

"I told him what I was looking for, and he presented an entire selection that had very little to do with the topic at hand, knowing full well where the book was shelved. He seemed quite offended when I mentioned as much. I was very soundly informed that he was born a merchant and would die a merchant. It was his purpose in life, I believe he said, and he didn't intend to let a pesky thing like human customs get in the way of that." His expression softened into a smile. "The village is made better by his presence, regardless of his aggressive sales tactics. And he has quite a vast selection of books."

It felt strange to stand here while she sat. The imbalance he'd noted before became apparent again, and he moved instead to the chair beside her. As this was his office and not a sitting room, they were not arranged particularly well, but he at least felt less like a lord giving commands and more like a friend deserving of the gifts she had given him.

Taking another sip of whiskey, he asked, "Have you made any plans for Satinalia? I imagine you typically spend holidays with Kiora."
 

Kiley Daire

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#9
"Likely because it can be so damnably sweet. That is why I drink dryer wines now, or none at all. I suppose it is accepted in polite society that a man will not break out the decanter of whiskey until after dinner," he leaned forward to take a sip, and she grinned back at him.

Maybe so, but I do enjoy a good sweet wine here and there. Then again, I don’t drink a lot of wine outside of dinner. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t seem to bother me so much,” drinking at dinner was slower and more moderate than drinking without food. He asked where she had gotten the book and she answered easily enough. The dwarf had been irritating, but in the end she had convinced him that the book was what she wanted, not the others he tried to foist on her.

"He treats everyone that way, I'm afraid. Lest you think he was being rude only to you," he said, and she laughed a little. It was good to know, but it did not change her opinion of the shop owner. She’d likely try to buy something from him again, and have to stay firm, "The last time I visited, I was trying to find a book for Breanna's mother."

There was a subtle shift in the air then, as if speaking about Catriona had shifted his mood. There were no real outward cues, but they had spoke about this situation before. Perhaps she was putting her own feelings on the situation, letting it color her perception of the mood. Thankfully, he started talking again a moment later, and helped alleviate some of the uncomfortable feelings she was having.

"I told him what I was looking for, and he presented an entire selection that had very little to do with the topic at hand, knowing full well where the book was shelved. He seemed quite offended when I mentioned as much. I was very soundly informed that he was born a merchant and would die a merchant. It was his purpose in life, I believe he said, and he didn't intend to let a pesky thing like human customs get in the way of that." his expression was warm at the memory, and she chuckled a little at the anecdote, "The village is made better by his presence, regardless of his aggressive sales tactics. And he has quite a vast selection of books."

That has to do with the dwarven culture right? Even when they come to the surface they cling to old traditions,” she swirled the whiskey a bit in her glass. “Though who could blame them, it seems most people are the same. Clinging to things instead of changing them.

Which was rather more political than she had intended her comments to go, “I do believe you are right, about his presence making the village better. With the smaller villages that come to trade here, it’s likely there only source for books.

Hafter’s Bend didn’t have a book seller, but there wouldn’t be a good market considering the expense and how few people called it home. Teagan moved to sit beside her, and she did her best to avert her gaze without being obvious about it.

"Have you made any plans for Satinalia? I imagine you typically spend holidays with Kiora." he asked after a moment.

She shook her head, giving him a soft smile, “This is our first one apart. It’s a very strange thing that she’s not here. But this whole situation with her elevation has made things different for us.

More than she probably should have said, but it didn’t matter. She shrugged, “Outside of presenting you with your gifts, I had no other plans. Probably perusing your library for something to read for pleasure. I hope I haven’t delayed your plans, my lord?
 

Teagan Guerrin

Arl of Redcliffe
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#10
“This is our first one apart," she said, confirming his suspicions. "It’s a very strange thing that she’s not here. But this whole situation with her elevation has made things different for us.”

"I imagine so." His thoughts drifted, memories pulling to the forefront. "I was never as close to my brother as you are to Kiora, but things changed quite drastically when he returned to Ferelden to take up the mantel of arl. We had ten years between us, and I never felt more like a child to him than I did during that transition."

It hadn't been that way with Rowan. She'd had greater responsibilities, of course, and he'd seen the toll they'd taken. In some ways he still believed they were largely responsible for ending her life. But Rowan had always made time for him as a brother, whereas Eamon quickly became concerned with political leverage. It was his way of ensuring the Guerrin legacy, and Teagan was able to admit that had his brother not done so, Redcliffe might very well belong to someone else presently.

That didn't change the fact that his relationship with Eamon had been strained under the best of times. Nor did it change the fact that he was likely casting a dismal view of Kiley's own future with regards to her sister.

"I don't mean to suggest such a drastic change for the two of you. I hope that will not happen, but regardless, take care to remember you are more than your title--or lack thereof."

It felt like vague, unhelpful wisdom, but it came from a place of experience. Whether it was Eamon's intent or not, Teagan had spent many years believing his only worth to his family was in his name alone, and eventually the titles he bore. It was why he'd rebelled so fiercely in his younger years, and why he likely still wasn't the arl Eamon would have wanted him to be.

But Eamon wasn't here, was he? And he certainly had no say in the matter.

“Outside of presenting you with your gifts, I had no other plans," Kiley said, thankfully pulling him from his thoughts. Maker, he ended up in the strangest places when it came to his brother. "Probably perusing your library for something to read for pleasure. I hope I haven’t delayed your plans, my lord?”

"Not at all," he said with a warm smile. "Last year I spent Satinalia with Breanna, but she's currently overseeing renovations that will keep her in Rainesfere for awhile yet, and I've had..." he swept a hand back toward his desk, indicating the stack of papers, "far too many demands on my own time to make the trip."

If Kiley hadn't come here this evening, he likely would have kept working until the candles burned low and his head

began to pound in earnest. Considering he'd just given a condensed speech about being worth more than his responsibilities, Teagan thought it bad form to return to said stack. It would still be there in the morning, after all--likely with a few more papers added to it. But holidays came around rarely enough, and he was fortunate to have company for this one.

"The library sounds like a rather nice diversion." He stood, reaching for his glass. "If you wouldn't mind the company, perhaps we could both find something to read? And better whiskey, as well," he said with a grin. "No one would ever suspect the best bottles are kept in the library."
 
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