Participants:

Carys_icon.gif Davan_icon.gif

Scene Title Sneaking Home
Synopsis Davan attempts to sneak in and out of home.
Location Quaint Manor
Date 02 Wintermarch, 9:32 Dragon
Watch For A noisy fox.
Logger Davan

You know, Davan is way better at sneaking into his own home in the wee hours than he'd really like to be. He's had to do it a lot. Unfortunately, he's never had to do it injured so there's really very little chance that he's not going to be at least heard by those used to listening for such things. Fortunately, he does make it to his room only to be greeted by a very enthusiastic fox who makes no attempt to NOT be a noisy little thing. "Yes, Princess…" He sighs, dropping down to his knees with a sound that translates into 'I regret everything'. "Calm down, love. You'll have the whole house up and we can't have that." It may be too late but he's at least going to pick the wriggling creature up in hopes that it's not.

Unfortunately for Davan, his presence is found out /before/ he speaks. And it's by some miracle that the dagger that was meant for squishy intruder flesh instead imbeds itself scant centimeters to the side in a wall. Must be because he /did/ speak as it was being launched. "Not th' whole house, just me," says the origin of the forementioned pointy project tile as a few sparks flash in the hallway that leads to a candle being lit. And then the lamp nearby so some /real/ light could shine on the situation. And for someone who professes never to have had parental guidance long enough to recall it, Carys is doing a /damn/ good job of looking like a peeved mother who's catching her child sneaking in after hours from some party. Complete with hand on cocked hip and 'You better have a good explanation, young man' expression.

"I've seen that face on my nanny." Davan complains before pushing himself to his feet and trying to cover the discomfort it causes with a brief laugh. "You're far too young for it. …thanks for not hitting me, by the way. There's been far too much of that in the last few days as is." The thing is, he is in NO WAY immune to that look. He's been trained since he left his nurse to obey The Look. It's probably a good thing is own mother can't manage it. "Yes, I have an explanation. I arranged transportation back to the family home and mother found out. I had to stay away."

"An explanation f'r up an' disappearin'?" Oh, no… the wounds and stuff. Carys blinks and then she hollars down the hallway. "Liddy! We need some wound care in here!" Because, y'know, LIddy's supernatural and probably is already well aware that something's going on. And… she's probably better at bandaging stuff than Carys is. Davan will end up a mummy. But when he utters those last lines she turns around and stares. "Y'really did go off th' bend. That goes beyond daft and int' fuckin' insane." And Carys only has an inkling about how his family is. "Princess, make him sit."

"Oh don't call for Liddy…" Davan groans, but then there's the order to Princess and he shakes his head. "It's just a stab wound, I'll be fine." He sighs. "Princess is not going to m-" Oh but she is and Davan is backed to his bed enough to fall right into sitting. "You've turned my fox against me." He's so shocked that the discomfort of his flop onto the bed goes unnoticed at first. "Ow… fine, fine. I needed to get away to think. I'd just wallow here… and I haven't. It was the plan when I came here to eventually go back. My father is one thing but someone has to stand up to mother eventually."

Crossing her arms, the thief just kind of gives Davan a helpless smile. "Y'know it's less my order an' more her missin' you too much." She walks over and maneuvering around Princess, Carys tries to get a look at the stabwound to see if mundane medical care would be enough, or if she's going ot have to risk a magical healer. Unfortunately, both locations she knows would probably have someone stabbing Davan more instead of fixing him. "Yeah, but most who stand up t'mother usually don't walk awy with extra holes in their guts, Davan."

Davan sighs, lifting his shirt so the bandage can be seen. "They weren't standing up to my mother. She's ruthless. Fortunately, she only wanted to warn me so the poison only kept it open longer rather than killing me. She must be softening with age. The last time she tried poison my nurse died." He reaches to scoop Princess up once the fox is on the bed and hugs her, rubbing his cheek against her fur. "I had to leave her. If they got their hands on her…" Of course he's understating the wound because the person who did it meant for it to hurt a lot.

"I was talking about you," Carys comments idly as she eyes the wound. She's not familiar with funky Tevinter poisons so she just shakes her head. Straightening, she asks the million gld piece question, "Are you stayin'?"

"In Tevinter? I suppose that depends." Davan answers. "My plan is to return once I've… handled certain matters. Mostly to do with Liddy's inheritance and freedom. Mother is the stumbling block in that and if she's determined… well, I've never been her favorite." He shakes his head. "I've let myself believe I can avoid it as much as I let myself believe I could belong here. This has to be done, sooner or later. If all goes well, Liddy can stop playing the part of servant. At the very least she's named as my property and I can make things right on my own. I've left the house to Cenn just in case things go awry." Awry as in 'death happens'.

Carys's lips purse. "Yeah, I know," she says of the house. Apparently she's recently spoken to the Templar. And still she's confused. But obviously, she's refraining from pressing for details. Both men are dear to her, but not enough to get in the middle of whatever it is that's keeping them apart. Too many cooks in the kitchen at that point, and even with as little experience with long, meaningful relations as she has, she knows that. "Must this be done? Obviously, y've got a bit of opposition t'yer plans here."

Davan laughs, but it's short and it's obvious that he regrets it. "Must it? Eventually, yes. I'm here only because she hasn't figured out how to kill me to her best advantage yet. The plan had been to get Liddy and Cyras safely away and then… well, I supposed I'd figure something out." Princess is settled on the bed next to him and he keeps his attention focused on stroking her fur. "If I can get the right documents, there's no way they can insist on her return or take the house back into the family holdings. …and what better time to do it than when I have very little to lose? I've already made the transfer of the house official, so it doesn't matter how much my family bribes or complains. …but they can still get their hands on Liddy."

The war is visible on her face. The realization that he seems set on this path clashing with the desire to talk him out of this idiocy. "It's obvious that you'll walk out of this on a pyre, Davan," she says, crossing her arms. "What good does that do anyone?"

Davan shakes his head. "If it makes a difference, that is not what I'm hoping for. I owe Liddy my life a few times over. I can't let her reward for saving me be to be dragged back to Tevinter. Not when my mother hates her as much as she does." He shakes his head. "As for what good? I suppose that it at least does no one ill. Liddy will hate me, of course. It's what sisters do, I suppose. I wish I'd recognized what she went through for me when we were growing up."

There's a start when he mentions sister, but it's gone almost as quickly as it happens. Because, really? Who's /that/ surprised at the revelation? Carys was long warned about Davan's father's 'hobbies' regarding their slaves. "The upper class are trained from the pram to not see the plights of those lower'n 'em," she says quietly by way of explanation. The tone is factual, not accusatory, as if she were stating a well-documented fact of life. Like,y'know 'The sky is blue'. She draws a breath and then lets it out. "I can't talk y'outta this… an' t'be honest, I ain't sure I got the energy." There's an old saying; a bullshitter can recognize a bullshitter. It goes the same for people who are really stubborn and have a tendency to dig heels. This isn't a fight /she/ can win. "Just promise me this ain't some weird 'suicide by guard' type deal."

"It has more purpose than just 'get mother to kill me at an inconvenient time'. I can at least promise you that. Although, if I do rob her of the mourning mother moment, it will have been worth it." Davan's sense of humor. It's a product of his upbringing. "I'm not leaving for a week yet. Which will give Liddy a chance to voice her displeasure, I'm sure. You know how completely frightening she is, yes?"

Carys just gives him this 'please' look at the whole Liddy is frightening thing. "I'm not sure if I'll be about when y'take off again. Rumbles have it that th' expidition I signed up as muscle for might finally be takin' off soon." She flashes a grin here, "So while yer dodgin' Mummy's affection, I might be havin' my head munched on by darkspawn. But there's promises of stuff, so…" Worth it?

"Promises. To go into the Deep Roads." Davan sighs. Such a sigh. "Carys, you can't possibly be serious. What… why would you agree to such a thing? It's bad enough those things come crawling to the surface as if they were invited to tea. A really strange and ugly tea. You're going to go into their spawning grounds and … what? Look for shiny things? Are you that bored? Whoever got this promise can take it up with me. You… you realize that this is a bad idea?" There they sit, the pot and the kettle, hashing over how black their bad ideas are.

Carys holds her hands out, eyes wide. "It was a job! I got it within' the first month'r so of me comin' to Kirkwall! This expedition needs some bodyguardin', so I signed up! I'm on a contract." She then crosses her arms. "An' I'm not havin' a Dwarven Brute Squad comin' t'break my knees over a broken /contract/ when I can piss 'em off in so many better ways." She then scratches the side of her head and colors somewhat. "'Sides… I….um….amprettysureCarver'sgoin." She then claps her hands. "SO! Y'know, better incentive'n shinies. Though, there is a finder's fee an' I think a small cut of loot but I forget that part."

Davan just stares at Carys for a few seconds. "Dwarven brute squad." He repeats. "You took a job from someone whose name can be said along with the words 'Dwarven brute squad'. … of course you did." He sighs. "And of course he is. You're certain I couldn't pay all three parties off and call it even?" There's a moment of pinching the bridge of his nose before the mage just shakes his head. "Alright. You're a big girl and you can make your own choices. Of course you can take care of yourself but you realize that I can't just let you walk in there without following you? Which complicates things."

Carys looks at Davan with the biggest, most innocent expression. "Of course he is. Who d'you think pointed him towards th' guy in the first place?" She then holds her hands out again. "It's an expedition. Explorin' an' all. It just happens t'be in the Deep Roads where everyone say Darkspawn hang out when they're, y'know, not reducin' topsoil t'muck." She then crosses her arms and she arches a brow. "Don't y'have yer /own/ horrible idea t'attend to? Remember? Killer Mum, freedom for sis, all that jazz? Think about th' likelihood of me talkin' you outta that, an' y'got a good chance of how well y'can get me t'stay home."

"Of course you did." Davan affirms before pushing himself to stand. "Yes, I have my own well thought out confrontation planned. Fortunately, I have the luxury of time and can convincingly document that I was given custody of two slaves who were then translated to freedom when we arrived. It's not much, but it would give Liddy time to establish herself somewhere safe if I don't return." Which may be why he's headed to the small desk now. "Making sure you're safe is exactly the way to get me to delay my plans. …life was easier when I could be certain that the only one I could safely care for was Princess."

"Story of my life," Carys grumbles behind Davan's back. Life /was/ simpler without all those fuzzy feelings and attachments to people, wasn't it? She then steps forward,r esting a hand on his shoulder, "Davna. I'll be fine. I'm not goin' by myself, an' I can safely say I can run away if things go bad." Unless someone she likes is in the middle of the bad, then there's problems. "You wouldn't want me to feel /guilty/ if y'followed me an' got hurt, would you? I mean, then that'd be all my fault." Woobie-eyes.

Davan rubs at his forehead before looking over his shoulder and sighing. "Oh… stop it. The last thing I want is any … drama over my possible injury or death. Or the actual events, for that matter. Either way, the documents have to be written out. …and here Father thought that my interest in archiving was a waste." He says it as if he's vaguely delighted to be proving the man wrong in such a way. "Very well, go on your own but you really do have to promise to come back. Liddy would be lost without someone to look after. She's fond of you, you know. And, I imagine, listening to everything that's being said. Ignore the pained yelps you'll hear later."

Carys flashes a grin which thankfully dispells that look. "Y'dunno how many pockets that look emptied when I was wee!" Okay, she finds it funny. It's always funny for beggars when they successfully make a man broke for a day. She then quiets, her expression serious and somber. "Same t'you. Promise you'll come back."

"I believe it. You're a menace. An adorable one, but a menace all the same." Davan goes through the motions of dipping his pen in ink and preparing to write, but then that request is made and he sighs. "I promise… you'll see me again." It might be strange wording, but then he's used to different turns of phrase. "And if you're going to be going soon, you'll need to get some sleep. We'll … make a plan to go shopping for suitable 'I'm going underground because I love bad ideas' gear before you leave."

Carys throws her arms around Davan's shoulders in an awkward sort of embrace. "Y'know it," she says of loving bad ideas. Deep roads, juggling both a Templar and a Tevinter Magus as best friends, a shell-shocked Ferelden soldier for a beau? These are obviously /awesome/ ideas. "An' I'm wearin' armor. An' daggers. I'm spelunkin' an' stabbin'. Not goin' t'a fashion party."

Davan chuckles and it's an affectionate, if somewhat tired, sound. "Yes, well, no one said that armor and daggers couldn't be fashionable. I know of some excellent craftsmen. …one woman that we can go to for daggers. What you have is fine, I'm sure, but I want some assurance that I have some influence on your safe return." He reaches up to pat Carys' hands. "Think of it this way. You can shock me with how badly mucked up you bring it all back."

Snorting here she nods here. "I'll concede," she says with a grumble. "But my armor and arms are broken in. Familiar. they fit juuuuust right." And here she squishes her arms bout her upper chest to indicate just how well her current armor fits. "Anyway, you should go let Liddy yell at you an' see that wound."

"I'm sure we can get a similar fit." Davan lets his shoulders sag but nods. "I suppose it's time to get it over with. I can take care of the letters and documents later. If you hear screams… well, we all know she's not going to be gentle. Remember me as I lived." He pauses. "On second thought, come up with some elaborate and tasteful lie and remember that."


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