A sticking point. What does he know of Val and the promises he makes or his capacity for secrecy? Nothing at all. It's a particular kind of difficulty, to consider a man the right person for a job and yet be unable to parse whether not he can be trusted to take it on.
Now Val makes a noise of vexation deep in his throat. The haughty expression on his face has by now well and truly soured into an irritated scowl. He breaks the cross of his arms to gesture impatiently.
"Can I trust you to get on with it? Monsieur! I detest dancing, even in the appropriate contexts and situations. Kindly cease this prance of yours and tell me what it is you want so that I can tell you that I can be trusted with it. For I can, quite obviously, be trusted!"
There is an argument to be made, were Ellis a different sort of man. But Ellis has never been given to a certain type of wordplay, and on top of that, he is tired.
And the time spent on this is keeping him from where he'd rather be. (From where he has limited time to spend, considering his plans.) Arguing the point further is—
"You're frustrating," is so mild that it can hardly be counted as anything other than neutral observation.
And it's easier to offer this up than to parse through the rest of it.
Val doesn't strike him as a patient man. But there is still a stretch of quiet, Ellis gathering his thoughts, selecting words carefully. So Val is obliged to wait still, until Ellis settles on—
"I've some records from Skyhold of the work of a Dalish elf named Merrill involving...a sort of cleansing. You were mentioned in some of these records. Do you recall it?"
It is not a specific outline of what he wants. Orlesians loudly proclaiming they're able to be trusted is not enough to inspire an entire unspooling of Ellis' angle.
"I am frustrating, you are frustrating--" Val sweeps his hand through the air, pushing away these points. "N’importe quoi."
Certainly both are true. For what is more frustrating than a man who begins to state his mind, only to then hold back and hem and haw at completing the thought? A command, a request, even a statement--these should be delivered at once, before the thoughts cool.
And true, also, is that Val is not a patient man. He does, by a great feat of patience and composure, manage to wait, and makes a great point of taking out his commonplace book and charcoal pencil so that he can begin writing something in it. Why not, if his time is being so waste?
What Ellis actually ends up asking of him (when he eventually gets around to asking) does catch him by surprise, communicated by the abrupt end of the pencil's scratching. Val looks up, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, naturally. I could recover my notes from their archival place to recall more, if I so wished. To what end do you inquire?"
Some flicker of interest. It had not occurred to him that there might be notes in Val's possession, and there is some curiosity as to what he might have jotted down and how that would align with what they'd been able to acquire from Skyhold. That train of thought pulls at Ellis for a moment, weighing up the possibility, before he returns to the matter at hand.
"I have been looking over some of that research to see if it might be used to remedy what was found in the Temple of Dumat," Ellis says slowly, gaze very intent on Val's face.
Val had been there. He had seen the corrupted rift, and all other manner of atrocity contained in that place. Ellis is uncertain whether the full gravity had reached him, however—
"Can I entrust you with my research? The notes I have, and my papers, and everything else? I cannot leave it in my room here, unattended, while I am away."
The possibility of losing all that he's collected thus far to theft or otherwise is devastating. It's pushed him here, seeking out someone he thinks might be trustworthy, in spite of being frustrating, and Orlesian, and—
Well. All the rest. The things he cannot hold against Val, though they still exert some vise-like pressure upon him, tightening around his chest as Ellis considers Val de Foncé.
This is the second of Val's surprises. Whatever he expected Ellis' request to be, it did not involve receiving his compiled research for safekeeping. Prior to this moment, he was not even aware that the man had research to be entrusted.
(Perhaps he should. He has critiqued Warden Ellis' handwriting often enough, and Mister Ellis' twice as often, and he has heard in passing of someone whose name begins with an E, and who might lend a hand or an ear to a problem that requires, yes, research.)
He does not accept immediately, but spares a glance to the door that leads back to Wysteria's room. A faint frown passes over his face, more thoughtful than annoyed.
"You would have prefered to have asked the mademoiselle?"
This is not untrue. He would have much rather have given over everything to Wysteria to be tucked away somewhere. Perhaps in the Hightown house. Perhaps in her workshop. Perhaps even at the bottom of the great hole she was having dug into the earth for whatever purpose.
But Ellis cannot ask anything of Wysteria now, because she is meant to be resting, not arguing with Ellis over his pursuits and his theories and the risk he is about to undertake.
Maybe he would not have wanted to have that argument regardless. But it doesn't matter know. What might have been is not what will be, and so Ellis must make different arrangements.
"You'll not be able to tell her about them, or about the research. Not yet," follows after, just as serious. "I'll explain it all to her when I return."
"Of course I will tell her whatever I wish, whenever I wish."
The counter is delivered as a pronouncement, immediate and crisp. But he does not actually mean it. Or rather, he means it thirty percent. Yet it must be said. One does not entertain orders. And now, if he does decide not to tell Wysteria about anything, it will be because he has chosen not to do so.
Abruptly, Val thrusts his hand toward Ellis, expectant of a gentlemen's handshake and not the immediate delivery of these papers. Surely the man is not carrying them on his person.
"I accept the charge of your research. It may be entrusted to me."
And he will, despite everything, take it quite seriously. And look through it. But surely that is to be expected.
No, Ellis is not carrying any of his research on his person.
But still, there is a beat of scrutiny. The prickle of frustration comes and goes, slipping away without finding any purchase. Whatever Ellis needs from this man, he will receive only parts and pieces. What had he expected? Val is Orlesian and he is nobility. There is a gulf between them. (It is not forgotten, the way Val had looked at him.) Ellis doesn't know how to reach across it and draw out the reassurance he needs.
"I'd ask that you tell no one. As a favor to me," is said in the same exact moment as Ellis takes Val's hand. His grip is firm. "I know you've kept her secrets. Please keep mine, until I return."
It is the sort of appeal made without any hope of return. But still, Ellis puts it forth. He knows Val to be capable of this, at least. Wysteria wouldn't have chosen him for their gambit if he were incapable of keeping things to himself.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-10-05 03:28 am (UTC)It should be an easy question, and yet—
"Can I trust you to keep it to yourself?"
A sticking point. What does he know of Val and the promises he makes or his capacity for secrecy? Nothing at all. It's a particular kind of difficulty, to consider a man the right person for a job and yet be unable to parse whether not he can be trusted to take it on.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 03:38 am (UTC)"Can I trust you to get on with it? Monsieur! I detest dancing, even in the appropriate contexts and situations. Kindly cease this prance of yours and tell me what it is you want so that I can tell you that I can be trusted with it. For I can, quite obviously, be trusted!"
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 04:19 am (UTC)And the time spent on this is keeping him from where he'd rather be. (From where he has limited time to spend, considering his plans.) Arguing the point further is—
"You're frustrating," is so mild that it can hardly be counted as anything other than neutral observation.
And it's easier to offer this up than to parse through the rest of it.
Val doesn't strike him as a patient man. But there is still a stretch of quiet, Ellis gathering his thoughts, selecting words carefully. So Val is obliged to wait still, until Ellis settles on—
"I've some records from Skyhold of the work of a Dalish elf named Merrill involving...a sort of cleansing. You were mentioned in some of these records. Do you recall it?"
It is not a specific outline of what he wants. Orlesians loudly proclaiming they're able to be trusted is not enough to inspire an entire unspooling of Ellis' angle.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-06 09:32 pm (UTC)Certainly both are true. For what is more frustrating than a man who begins to state his mind, only to then hold back and hem and haw at completing the thought? A command, a request, even a statement--these should be delivered at once, before the thoughts cool.
And true, also, is that Val is not a patient man. He does, by a great feat of patience and composure, manage to wait, and makes a great point of taking out his commonplace book and charcoal pencil so that he can begin writing something in it. Why not, if his time is being so waste?
What Ellis actually ends up asking of him (when he eventually gets around to asking) does catch him by surprise, communicated by the abrupt end of the pencil's scratching. Val looks up, eyebrow raised.
"Yes, naturally. I could recover my notes from their archival place to recall more, if I so wished. To what end do you inquire?"
no subject
Date: 2021-10-07 04:34 am (UTC)"I have been looking over some of that research to see if it might be used to remedy what was found in the Temple of Dumat," Ellis says slowly, gaze very intent on Val's face.
Val had been there. He had seen the corrupted rift, and all other manner of atrocity contained in that place. Ellis is uncertain whether the full gravity had reached him, however—
"Can I entrust you with my research? The notes I have, and my papers, and everything else? I cannot leave it in my room here, unattended, while I am away."
The possibility of losing all that he's collected thus far to theft or otherwise is devastating. It's pushed him here, seeking out someone he thinks might be trustworthy, in spite of being frustrating, and Orlesian, and—
Well. All the rest. The things he cannot hold against Val, though they still exert some vise-like pressure upon him, tightening around his chest as Ellis considers Val de Foncé.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-08 12:19 am (UTC)(Perhaps he should. He has critiqued Warden Ellis' handwriting often enough, and Mister Ellis' twice as often, and he has heard in passing of someone whose name begins with an E, and who might lend a hand or an ear to a problem that requires, yes, research.)
He does not accept immediately, but spares a glance to the door that leads back to Wysteria's room. A faint frown passes over his face, more thoughtful than annoyed.
"You would have prefered to have asked the mademoiselle?"
no subject
Date: 2021-10-08 04:14 am (UTC)This is not untrue. He would have much rather have given over everything to Wysteria to be tucked away somewhere. Perhaps in the Hightown house. Perhaps in her workshop. Perhaps even at the bottom of the great hole she was having dug into the earth for whatever purpose.
But Ellis cannot ask anything of Wysteria now, because she is meant to be resting, not arguing with Ellis over his pursuits and his theories and the risk he is about to undertake.
Maybe he would not have wanted to have that argument regardless. But it doesn't matter know. What might have been is not what will be, and so Ellis must make different arrangements.
"You'll not be able to tell her about them, or about the research. Not yet," follows after, just as serious. "I'll explain it all to her when I return."
no subject
Date: 2021-10-24 04:58 am (UTC)The counter is delivered as a pronouncement, immediate and crisp. But he does not actually mean it. Or rather, he means it thirty percent. Yet it must be said. One does not entertain orders. And now, if he does decide not to tell Wysteria about anything, it will be because he has chosen not to do so.
Abruptly, Val thrusts his hand toward Ellis, expectant of a gentlemen's handshake and not the immediate delivery of these papers. Surely the man is not carrying them on his person.
"I accept the charge of your research. It may be entrusted to me."
And he will, despite everything, take it quite seriously. And look through it. But surely that is to be expected.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-24 05:43 am (UTC)But still, there is a beat of scrutiny. The prickle of frustration comes and goes, slipping away without finding any purchase. Whatever Ellis needs from this man, he will receive only parts and pieces. What had he expected? Val is Orlesian and he is nobility. There is a gulf between them. (It is not forgotten, the way Val had looked at him.) Ellis doesn't know how to reach across it and draw out the reassurance he needs.
"I'd ask that you tell no one. As a favor to me," is said in the same exact moment as Ellis takes Val's hand. His grip is firm. "I know you've kept her secrets. Please keep mine, until I return."
It is the sort of appeal made without any hope of return. But still, Ellis puts it forth. He knows Val to be capable of this, at least. Wysteria wouldn't have chosen him for their gambit if he were incapable of keeping things to himself.