[A neatly-sealed reply is returned five days later. Its seal is the only neat thing about it--creased from being folded into fourths, with one end discolored a faint brown, it carries with it a distinctly chemical whiff.]
A note which lacks time, location, details that might have been helpful but Ellis should have known better than to expect.
Regardless, Ellis isn't without some options other than getting on his crystal and praying for a straight answer from Val de Foncé.
Which is why it's Ruadh's great, bulky form that comes into sight first, padding towards Val with Ellis a few steps behind. Leading the way, long-suffering, towards an unfamiliar but interestingly-scented stranger at Ellis' direction, this is surely what a mabari is meant for.
If one wants to meet with Val de Foncé, one should always bring along a creature.
Val is just stepping away from his workroom, having locked its eight locks behind him. He holds in his hand a book, which he is reading from even now as he begins to walk, his brow furrowed intensely and intently. So engaged, he nearly runs straight into the mabari, and only at the last minute does he realize, oh--
"Oh," he says aloud, as he lifts the book over his head and clears his vision. "Oh! Serrah! Mon ami!", and without second thought he drops the book to the floor and goes down upon one knee, arms open to Ruadh. "Enchanté! Qui es-tu? Comment t'appelles-tu?"
No care given to Ellis, who is bringing up the rear.
Ellis has a split second to consider them speculatively before they are noticed. And greeted.
Or Ruadh is greeted, with such enthusiasm that both mabari and owner brace themselves in the face of such enthusiasm. Had Ellis known this of Val, that he would react to a beast with such jubilance? There was, of course, Wysteria's shaggy protector but Ellis had never quite thought that it was a reflection of Val's interests.
Either way, Ruadh goes tense all over and stills up until the point where Ellis has closed enough distance to put a hand out to Ruadh's muscled shoulder.
"Ruadh," he answers, though no one is speaking to him. Even here, for no one to hear but Val, Ellis' tone softens over the syllables as he gives them up: Roo-ah, in the burr of Ferelden-accented Trade. "He'll need a moment, to settle on an impression of you."
Or to acclimate to the Orlesian of it all. Either way, Ruadh's tension is settling into suspicious sniffing and Ellis is here, very much in the picture. Whether or not that means he is due any attention is not as certain a thing as it might be otherwise.
"Ruadh," Val repeats, with dogged cheer and obedience. A little too Orlesian even in his pronunciation. But he is addressing a noble mabari, and so any emphasis put upon the name is not there with any sinister purpose. He flattens his hands, fingers laid back, presented for sniffing and inspection.
"He was the purpose of your travels?"
He doesn't look at Ellis as he asks the question. But obviously, he is speaking to Ellis.
But Ellis' answer is a long moment in coming, pausing while he watches Ruadh snuffling dubiously at Val's hand. The initial sniffs deepen, eventually bypassing the hand altogether and redirecting to Val's boots. Ellis doesn't do anything to curb the scrutiny.
"No," he answers, circling the two of them to put a shoulder to the wall beside the door with it's eight locks. "I came across him and he chose to come south with me when I made my return."
There'd been no need to explain what had happened to whoever it was Ruadh had first traveled with. The dog is scarred, and suspicious. Ellis knows that there had been a Warden once, and that Warden is gone. None of that clarifies why Ruadh had chosen him, but Ellis has stopped asking the question.
"I didn't realize you had an interest."
In dogs? In Ellis' acquisitions? In Ellis' travels? All of the above?
Val remains in his crouch while Ruadh sniffs. Slowly, carefully, making no sudden movements, he shifts his weight so that his feet can point outward. This exposes new sections of boot to Ruadh's industrious investigation. There is a serene smile on his face as he watches the mabari, quite unlike the theatrics that usually dominate his expressions.
"Of course they are not my favorite--somewhat overrated, no? But," a sigh, "you are Fereldan so of course you will frown--so sternly!--and while you may not voice your opinion, you will not agree. I need not even look at you to know this."
And he does not look, content still to watch Ruadh in whatever he is doing. A fine creature. He belongs in a painting, and also, not. This is the balance that every dog should have.
"Yet even so, I rate the mabari higher than any man--and so how could I not be pleased to meet this fellow, and how could I be anything but interested! I shall not even laugh at you as another might for suggesting he had chosen to come with you. I am sure that is the truth. I can see already he is possessed of a great intelligence that would allow for such choice--even if the choice might have resulted only in mediocre company."
This is an insult. Or it should be insulting. But Ellis is in agreement. He is poor company, and Ruadh might have chosen someone else. Ellis still refuses to look directly at all the weighted meaning of Ruadh's decision, and his continued presence.
"Aye, he's very intelligent," Ellis agrees, easy over the words, watching as the newly revealed real estate is sniffed after. It's all great deep breaths, huffing and snuffling, the nub of a tail wagging through the process. "They're known for it."
Not that this is the point of Ellis' presence here. But for the moment, it's an acceptable detour.
"You've met one before now?"
Small talk. Maybe trying to retrieve his ring from Bastien left him a little wary.
"In passing only," he admits. Tolerant in a way that is uncommon to him, Val continues to hold quite still. A smile picks up the corners of his mouth as he observes the wagging of Ruadh's subtle tail. "I have not had the pleasure of developing a deep relationship with one of their number. When would I have had the opportunity? But of course I have read of them, and admired them, in a fashion--the way I would admire any creature, really."
Still patient, still focused on Ruadh--still without looking at Ellis, he says, "I presume that you have visited already Madame de Foncé?"
This is an interesting addition to what Ellis understands of Val de Foncé. And it is interesting to see this lack of movement; in all of their few interactions, Val has never given the impression of patience, certainly not the kind of patience that requires extended stillness. Ellis' arms cross over his chest, a long moment of study ending in, "Aye, I have."
Madame de Foncé is a particular kind of reminder. This too, Ellis takes in stride, as Ruadh snuffles at Val's ankle, licks the leather of his boot and huffs, lifts his great square head to butt his head against Val's thigh.
"She looks well," is suffused with quiet relief. Wysteria had been in the infirmary when Ellis had left, and seeing her on her feet had compounded the joy of seeing her again after long absence.
But how much can he really discuss such a thing with Val? Adding a quiet, "He wants you to pet him." is some kind of derailment, attempting to turn the conversation in a different direction.
Pleased (and apparently quite distracted) by this prompting, Val holds out only one hand this time, with his eyebrows raised. Yes? This is permissible? He waits but a moment before he lowers that hand and begins to pet Ruadh: a few pats to the top of the head, and then a scritch behind each ear. Left, then right.
"I love the ears of dogs," he tells Ruadh. "Comme des pétales, oui? Oui, oui, oui.." Two-handed scritching now, and back to ignoring Ellis, he continues, "When I was very young, I wished to be a dog when I grew older. Le rêve des naïfs And yet happy as I am in my scholarly career, I remain a small, very small, amount of jealous, that such a future was denied to me. I have, monsieur--"
This once again (at last!) to Ellis, though this new thought is conveyed with barely a breath to separate it from the rest of his address, and though his attention is still entirely focused upon Ruadh.
"I have your research within. Secure, and safe, do not worry. They were locked away while you were in absence."
Some time ago, Ellis had told Wysteria, I have a little Orlesian. He has enough to understand the patter of conversation directed toward Ruadh, leave it be as Val continues on. Ruadh's initial wariness is thawing by degrees, dropping to sit as Val ministers to him.
Very little of this conversation is meant for him, but one thing can be said for Val de Foncé: he is not boring. And it isn't a hardship to watch and wait, let Val spin out one train of thought before he returns to another.
"Thank you."
And this might be all, the beginning and end of a transaction. Ellis is wary of letting a silence stretch too long, lest Val rush to fill it, but there is still a beat of quiet where Ellis watches his hands on Raudh before continuing.
"I told the Mademoiselle that your handwriting is lacking. She did not agree. But her own handwriting can become so, hmm," he scratches a little lower on Ruadh's neck as he searches for a fitting word, "well, when she is attentive to it, it is very good. But if she does not focus it becomes horrible. So I do not consider her much of an expert on the subject. And in any case, I did not call it horrible lacking, simply lacking, without an intensifier of any sort. So I think I was quite fair and, perhaps, even a small bit kind."
He sneaks a glance over at Ellis. The little smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth is not entirely unkind. Nor is it entirely kind. Quite fair, really.
"Which is to say that yes, I read. How could I not! If you had wanted someone not to read them, you should have left them with one of the fellows who purports to being a pirate--I imagine they have not that many letters between them--or the hairy smelly one. Your secrets would have been very safe."
Ruadh is begrudgingly luxuriating in the attention. Ellis watches him, and the work of Val's hands for a few moments, perhaps assessing what he might say next.
This is the longest he has ever spoken with Val, even accounting for the game they'd played on the ice two years past.
Opinions? Val, appreciative of a good joke, laughs.
"People pay for my opinion, monsieur. But you are very lucky: I also like to give it for free, and I am feeling very, very generous today. I think you are to thank for that, Ruadh. Merci."
He presses a kiss to one of his index fingers, and presses it between the dog's eyes--then, with a sudden briskness, he gives Ruadh a pat and hauls himself to his feet.
"Do not look, the locks will take me some time, and there is a particular secret order to them. Are you asking, 'do you have opinions', because you are wanting a conversation? Or are you asking, 'do you have opinions', because you are trying to be polite? Or, are you asking because you are wanting to hear the opinions, but you are also very busy in this moment, with many things to attend to, now that you have found your way back to the Gallows and to Riftwatch?"
Another man might find it a little galling, his own companion butting briefly at Val's knee in complaint at being so abandoned. But Ellis takes this too in stride, lowers himself to take Val's place and occupy himself with scraping fingers along the short fur at Ruadh's neck and over his head, so he might not be accused of paying too much attention to the undoing of many locks.
"Because I'd like to know your thoughts."
Ellis does not pretend he can carry on the kind of conversation Val might have with others more scientifically minded.
"Wysteria has worked with you," is the why sorted. He cannot really say that Wysteria has spoken highly of him, but it might matter more that they have partnered in work together. Set alongside the presence of Val's name in some of these papers, it is enough. For the moment, anyway.
Val sets to the locks with a smile. Of course, Ellis should not see this smile--he has been cautioned not to look, after all, at this very particular and secret combination--but even so, the smile is likely evident in his voice.
"In fact we have done some very excellent work together, the two of us, and I am sure that we will do very excellent work together in future. Perhaps even more excellent. As I understand it, you have been something of a partner in the works of the mademoiselle as well? But not, I think, an instigator of new works. At least not that I am aware of. Is this an incorrect assumption?"
The locks shuffle and click; a key clacks. One, then two, then three and four, and so on, and the door opens with a deep creak.
But then, absurdity seems to be baked into the fabric of Val de Foncé. So Ellis takes that in stride, because he has learned that there is very little point to commenting upon it.
"No, it isn't."
There is something. The beginning of a thing. But Ellis doesn't know what he might do with it, and he is reluctant to discuss it with Wysteria, nevermind Val.
"You helped her. With the gun."
A half-question. He knows Val had contributed. And Ellis has seen the completed project, held it in his hands. It had been good work. Wysteria had been glowing over it, triumphant. Ellis knows it to be worthy of all that joy and more.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
!!!!!
no subject
Regardless, Ellis isn't without some options other than getting on his crystal and praying for a straight answer from Val de Foncé.
Which is why it's Ruadh's great, bulky form that comes into sight first, padding towards Val with Ellis a few steps behind. Leading the way, long-suffering, towards an unfamiliar but interestingly-scented stranger at Ellis' direction, this is surely what a mabari is meant for.
no subject
Val is just stepping away from his workroom, having locked its eight locks behind him. He holds in his hand a book, which he is reading from even now as he begins to walk, his brow furrowed intensely and intently. So engaged, he nearly runs straight into the mabari, and only at the last minute does he realize, oh--
"Oh," he says aloud, as he lifts the book over his head and clears his vision. "Oh! Serrah! Mon ami!", and without second thought he drops the book to the floor and goes down upon one knee, arms open to Ruadh. "Enchanté! Qui es-tu? Comment t'appelles-tu?"
No care given to Ellis, who is bringing up the rear.
no subject
Ellis has a split second to consider them speculatively before they are noticed. And greeted.
Or Ruadh is greeted, with such enthusiasm that both mabari and owner brace themselves in the face of such enthusiasm. Had Ellis known this of Val, that he would react to a beast with such jubilance? There was, of course, Wysteria's shaggy protector but Ellis had never quite thought that it was a reflection of Val's interests.
Either way, Ruadh goes tense all over and stills up until the point where Ellis has closed enough distance to put a hand out to Ruadh's muscled shoulder.
"Ruadh," he answers, though no one is speaking to him. Even here, for no one to hear but Val, Ellis' tone softens over the syllables as he gives them up: Roo-ah, in the burr of Ferelden-accented Trade. "He'll need a moment, to settle on an impression of you."
Or to acclimate to the Orlesian of it all. Either way, Ruadh's tension is settling into suspicious sniffing and Ellis is here, very much in the picture. Whether or not that means he is due any attention is not as certain a thing as it might be otherwise.
no subject
"He was the purpose of your travels?"
He doesn't look at Ellis as he asks the question. But obviously, he is speaking to Ellis.
no subject
But Ellis' answer is a long moment in coming, pausing while he watches Ruadh snuffling dubiously at Val's hand. The initial sniffs deepen, eventually bypassing the hand altogether and redirecting to Val's boots. Ellis doesn't do anything to curb the scrutiny.
"No," he answers, circling the two of them to put a shoulder to the wall beside the door with it's eight locks. "I came across him and he chose to come south with me when I made my return."
There'd been no need to explain what had happened to whoever it was Ruadh had first traveled with. The dog is scarred, and suspicious. Ellis knows that there had been a Warden once, and that Warden is gone. None of that clarifies why Ruadh had chosen him, but Ellis has stopped asking the question.
"I didn't realize you had an interest."
In dogs? In Ellis' acquisitions? In Ellis' travels? All of the above?
no subject
"Of course they are not my favorite--somewhat overrated, no? But," a sigh, "you are Fereldan so of course you will frown--so sternly!--and while you may not voice your opinion, you will not agree. I need not even look at you to know this."
And he does not look, content still to watch Ruadh in whatever he is doing. A fine creature. He belongs in a painting, and also, not. This is the balance that every dog should have.
"Yet even so, I rate the mabari higher than any man--and so how could I not be pleased to meet this fellow, and how could I be anything but interested! I shall not even laugh at you as another might for suggesting he had chosen to come with you. I am sure that is the truth. I can see already he is possessed of a great intelligence that would allow for such choice--even if the choice might have resulted only in mediocre company."
no subject
"Aye, he's very intelligent," Ellis agrees, easy over the words, watching as the newly revealed real estate is sniffed after. It's all great deep breaths, huffing and snuffling, the nub of a tail wagging through the process. "They're known for it."
Not that this is the point of Ellis' presence here. But for the moment, it's an acceptable detour.
"You've met one before now?"
Small talk. Maybe trying to retrieve his ring from Bastien left him a little wary.
no subject
Still patient, still focused on Ruadh--still without looking at Ellis, he says, "I presume that you have visited already Madame de Foncé?"
no subject
Madame de Foncé is a particular kind of reminder. This too, Ellis takes in stride, as Ruadh snuffles at Val's ankle, licks the leather of his boot and huffs, lifts his great square head to butt his head against Val's thigh.
"She looks well," is suffused with quiet relief. Wysteria had been in the infirmary when Ellis had left, and seeing her on her feet had compounded the joy of seeing her again after long absence.
But how much can he really discuss such a thing with Val? Adding a quiet, "He wants you to pet him." is some kind of derailment, attempting to turn the conversation in a different direction.
no subject
Pleased (and apparently quite distracted) by this prompting, Val holds out only one hand this time, with his eyebrows raised. Yes? This is permissible? He waits but a moment before he lowers that hand and begins to pet Ruadh: a few pats to the top of the head, and then a scritch behind each ear. Left, then right.
"I love the ears of dogs," he tells Ruadh. "Comme des pétales, oui? Oui, oui, oui.." Two-handed scritching now, and back to ignoring Ellis, he continues, "When I was very young, I wished to be a dog when I grew older. Le rêve des naïfs And yet happy as I am in my scholarly career, I remain a small, very small, amount of jealous, that such a future was denied to me. I have, monsieur--"
This once again (at last!) to Ellis, though this new thought is conveyed with barely a breath to separate it from the rest of his address, and though his attention is still entirely focused upon Ruadh.
"I have your research within. Secure, and safe, do not worry. They were locked away while you were in absence."
no subject
Very little of this conversation is meant for him, but one thing can be said for Val de Foncé: he is not boring. And it isn't a hardship to watch and wait, let Val spin out one train of thought before he returns to another.
"Thank you."
And this might be all, the beginning and end of a transaction. Ellis is wary of letting a silence stretch too long, lest Val rush to fill it, but there is still a beat of quiet where Ellis watches his hands on Raudh before continuing.
"Did you read it?"
no subject
He sneaks a glance over at Ellis. The little smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth is not entirely unkind. Nor is it entirely kind. Quite fair, really.
"Which is to say that yes, I read. How could I not! If you had wanted someone not to read them, you should have left them with one of the fellows who purports to being a pirate--I imagine they have not that many letters between them--or the hairy smelly one. Your secrets would have been very safe."
no subject
For two separate, wildly different reasons.
Ruadh is begrudgingly luxuriating in the attention. Ellis watches him, and the work of Val's hands for a few moments, perhaps assessing what he might say next.
This is the longest he has ever spoken with Val, even accounting for the game they'd played on the ice two years past.
"Do you have opinions?"
Ha. A joke. Of course this man has opinions.
no subject
"People pay for my opinion, monsieur. But you are very lucky: I also like to give it for free, and I am feeling very, very generous today. I think you are to thank for that, Ruadh. Merci."
He presses a kiss to one of his index fingers, and presses it between the dog's eyes--then, with a sudden briskness, he gives Ruadh a pat and hauls himself to his feet.
"Do not look, the locks will take me some time, and there is a particular secret order to them. Are you asking, 'do you have opinions', because you are wanting a conversation? Or are you asking, 'do you have opinions', because you are trying to be polite? Or, are you asking because you are wanting to hear the opinions, but you are also very busy in this moment, with many things to attend to, now that you have found your way back to the Gallows and to Riftwatch?"
no subject
"Because I'd like to know your thoughts."
Ellis does not pretend he can carry on the kind of conversation Val might have with others more scientifically minded.
"Wysteria has worked with you," is the why sorted. He cannot really say that Wysteria has spoken highly of him, but it might matter more that they have partnered in work together. Set alongside the presence of Val's name in some of these papers, it is enough. For the moment, anyway.
no subject
Val sets to the locks with a smile. Of course, Ellis should not see this smile--he has been cautioned not to look, after all, at this very particular and secret combination--but even so, the smile is likely evident in his voice.
"In fact we have done some very excellent work together, the two of us, and I am sure that we will do very excellent work together in future. Perhaps even more excellent. As I understand it, you have been something of a partner in the works of the mademoiselle as well? But not, I think, an instigator of new works. At least not that I am aware of. Is this an incorrect assumption?"
The locks shuffle and click; a key clacks. One, then two, then three and four, and so on, and the door opens with a deep creak.
also give me antiva stuff or else :knife:
But then, absurdity seems to be baked into the fabric of Val de Foncé. So Ellis takes that in stride, because he has learned that there is very little point to commenting upon it.
"No, it isn't."
There is something. The beginning of a thing. But Ellis doesn't know what he might do with it, and he is reluctant to discuss it with Wysteria, nevermind Val.
"You helped her. With the gun."
A half-question. He knows Val had contributed. And Ellis has seen the completed project, held it in his hands. It had been good work. Wysteria had been glowing over it, triumphant. Ellis knows it to be worthy of all that joy and more.