Perhaps because the word held no affection attached to it, no affection had been dealt once his mother had passed, only pain, humiliation and abuse. Gramps was at least harmless, annoying, certainly, but that was the point. The snort drew the younger's attention, eye narrowing some, curiosity piqued. Well. He had been young once.
“You should. At least get the pipework checked out, might mellow you out some more too.” It didn’t have to be with him either, but it might loosen the stiffness of the rod up the Ancients arse. Maybe. Ruth snickered at the idea though he didn’t add anything else. Being unattached meant not being disappointed. If he didn’t care too much, and didn’t invest his feelings into anyone particular there wasn’t the risk of being discovered. The healer could continue to hide behind that mask of sarcasm and lewd innuendo.
“You’ve obviously not met many women then.” Rolling his eye, Ruth drew in a breath through his nose, later scoffing at the mans words. “No betrayal hurts more than one dealt by family. Nell played me like a fucking fiddle. She knew everything about me since she had been a clanmate. I thought her changed from those past days, but liars never change, just their spots.” It had plunged him down a dark path for a while, the early days spent in Skyhold’s cells to sober up and then put into Megara’s care and supervision. Perhaps it was because he had stuck around after Kirkwall that she felt obligated to help him, but in time he realised the sibling affection.
It would be the only crack he’d allow.
“You can’t know. You’ve neither experienced it, nor witnessed it in action other than when gibbering with me. Bet your’s is well out of practice too… So I still win.” Ruth’s grin flashed, the ‘victory’ taken rightly or not.
In the back of his mind the gremlin niggled. Secrets? What secrets did Grandpa have? His curiosity be damned, but Ruth contemplated it, a possible exchange could be on the horizon. His body tensed, muscles along his shoulders tried to roll in an effort to ease it, yet few knew his connection to the clan of the First Inquisitor. His gaze turned to the fire. “My Father is Keeper of Clan Ghilain, historically we were well respected. We..” he scoffed thinking about the futility of invoking his peoples achievements. “I left, after years of being blamed and punished for an accident, which resulted in my mother’s death. My father could not stand me after that, not that he tolerated me much before.” Ruth shook his head. “He turned up on the Stoner’s doorstep yesterday. Haven’t seen him in twenty years, but he was just as pleasant as the day I left.”
He wanted a drink. Badly. Instead his shouldered heaved and sagged under the blanket as he leaned back into the rock behind him. Ruth looked into the canopy of trees, the stars peaking through the black sky. “Nobody gives in on the first go. You do that and I know you aren’t worth the time.” There were of course exceptions, but Ruth felt the generalisation was apt. “Flirting is like chess. Both fun, but both are still just games.”
“You should. At least get the pipework checked out, might mellow you out some more too.” It didn’t have to be with him either, but it might loosen the stiffness of the rod up the Ancients arse. Maybe. Ruth snickered at the idea though he didn’t add anything else. Being unattached meant not being disappointed. If he didn’t care too much, and didn’t invest his feelings into anyone particular there wasn’t the risk of being discovered. The healer could continue to hide behind that mask of sarcasm and lewd innuendo.
“You’ve obviously not met many women then.” Rolling his eye, Ruth drew in a breath through his nose, later scoffing at the mans words. “No betrayal hurts more than one dealt by family. Nell played me like a fucking fiddle. She knew everything about me since she had been a clanmate. I thought her changed from those past days, but liars never change, just their spots.” It had plunged him down a dark path for a while, the early days spent in Skyhold’s cells to sober up and then put into Megara’s care and supervision. Perhaps it was because he had stuck around after Kirkwall that she felt obligated to help him, but in time he realised the sibling affection.
It would be the only crack he’d allow.
“You can’t know. You’ve neither experienced it, nor witnessed it in action other than when gibbering with me. Bet your’s is well out of practice too… So I still win.” Ruth’s grin flashed, the ‘victory’ taken rightly or not.
In the back of his mind the gremlin niggled. Secrets? What secrets did Grandpa have? His curiosity be damned, but Ruth contemplated it, a possible exchange could be on the horizon. His body tensed, muscles along his shoulders tried to roll in an effort to ease it, yet few knew his connection to the clan of the First Inquisitor. His gaze turned to the fire. “My Father is Keeper of Clan Ghilain, historically we were well respected. We..” he scoffed thinking about the futility of invoking his peoples achievements. “I left, after years of being blamed and punished for an accident, which resulted in my mother’s death. My father could not stand me after that, not that he tolerated me much before.” Ruth shook his head. “He turned up on the Stoner’s doorstep yesterday. Haven’t seen him in twenty years, but he was just as pleasant as the day I left.”
He wanted a drink. Badly. Instead his shouldered heaved and sagged under the blanket as he leaned back into the rock behind him. Ruth looked into the canopy of trees, the stars peaking through the black sky. “Nobody gives in on the first go. You do that and I know you aren’t worth the time.” There were of course exceptions, but Ruth felt the generalisation was apt. “Flirting is like chess. Both fun, but both are still just games.”
03-13-2024, 05:47 PM
