is his question as he opens the door, unlocked as promised. He's dressed in the usual simple affair of tunic and trousers, has an eyebrow preemptively raised to see what Derrica has ready here.
What's everything is clearly what Derrica bribed the kitchen to put aside for her. Mushroom and fennel soup, chopped hazelnut salad, nut scones with honey, soft cheese and chive dip and onion bread, spread with warm butter. It's a good supper. Derrica had been reminded several times when she'd fetched the tray.
"Come sit and find out," she tells him, having balanced the tray on two chairs in front of her bed.
It's all a little bit of a stall, bantering over the food rather than the conversation she knows Holden is here to have.
He can smell it even before he sees all of it, eyebrows lifting as he approaches; and he pauses to take in the very good supper, hands settling at his waist.
"Is it someone's birthday?" Wait. "Is it your birthday?"
He's maybe three-quarters joking; and moves to sit before she answers. Despite the heavy topic hanging over their heads, the food's enough to make him hungry even if he wasn't before.
He takes some bread and soup to start with, pauses with spoon balanced against the against the bowl's side. There are a lot of things he could ask, and he's had time to think about them.
But he starts with, "How are the others taking it?"
She knows him well enough to know it's not an evasion.
For her part, Derrica is tearing bread into pieces onto a plate, having yet to acquire anything else. She shakes her head first, then sighs.
"Astarion is upset," is the place she chooses to start. An understatement, of sorts. "I spoke with Ellie and Abby and Margaery. I think they'll stay, but I don't know about Astarion."
A pause, while she leans forward for the little pots containing butter and dip.
"Loxley has been here long enough that I think he was expecting some sort of unfairness. And the others...I'll try to speak with the ones I've met. It might help."
"I saw that," he says, on more of an exhale than a sigh.
Astarion's initial outburst, after all, had been plenty public. He'd heard it more or less in real time, though he hadn't reached out in the moment. The reason isn't hard to guess, not after their conversation in cold, dark caves far from here.
He's not sure how much of that Derrica does or doesn't know, and it's not for him to tell regardless.
"He might not," Holden allows, then adds, "But he risked his life to save mine in Tantervale, when it would've been easier to run. He might surprise us."
And,
"Coming from you, it will." Help, as much as it can, at least. "I've promised Madame de Cedoux any help I can give her, and the same goes for you."
Yes, it's Holden's fight too, and she's glad that he is so quick to involve himself. But in the same breath, Derrica regrets that he has to. Holden gives so much of himself. Derrica knows what that costs him.
"I know you must have questions."
More than just about the state of the other rifters they have in common.
He breathes out at that gentle push, leans back. It'd be easier, wouldn't it, if whether or not he's ready to involve himself were the only consideration that mattered. And he could do that, without any resentment. He knows how to be a pair of hands for a cause.
But of course Derrica wouldn't see him that way.
"Was that the compromise?" is what he asks, after a moment. "The Chantry agrees that rifters aren't demons, so instead of killing us," he assumes, "we go in Circles?"
"I think so. It happened before I arrived. Julius might be able to tell you more of what happened."
It shames her, that she'd only focused so closely on the phylactery negotiations. She might have asked Ilias and Julius about the rest, while they had been untangling the process of reclaiming her own.
"It started with phylacteries. And the outcome is why none were ever made for Rifters," Derrica tells him, a piece of good news that might ease the rest. "But I don't know what else was asked for, just that this is what was settled on. They think you're closer to mages than to anyone else in Thedas, so you'll share our fates when Corypheus isn't a threat."
Why no phylacteries were made for rifters, he thinks, yet. If they go into Circles, he doubts it'd be mages still with phylacteries and rifters without. If they go into Circles, he doubts the Chantry would drop the practice, no matter what promises they make now.
"It was the only move they could make," he says, contemplative, "without abolishing Circles. It doesn't make sense to lock up mages, who they know are people, and let rifters go free."
And rifters are people, he'd argue with anyone, any day of the week. But it's not like he, or anyone else in Riftwatch, can pretend to really understand what they are on a fundamental, molecular level. Rifters, who are — as a rule — less likely to accept the Chantry's edicts, or power, than anyone who grew up in this world.
Goes unsaid, but hangs heavy in the air: the only real way to prevent this future is to completely destroy the practice of Circles.
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no subject
is his question as he opens the door, unlocked as promised. He's dressed in the usual simple affair of tunic and trousers, has an eyebrow preemptively raised to see what Derrica has ready here.
opens redwall feasts bot
"Come sit and find out," she tells him, having balanced the tray on two chairs in front of her bed.
It's all a little bit of a stall, bantering over the food rather than the conversation she knows Holden is here to have.
no subject
"Is it someone's birthday?" Wait. "Is it your birthday?"
He's maybe three-quarters joking; and moves to sit before she answers. Despite the heavy topic hanging over their heads, the food's enough to make him hungry even if he wasn't before.
no subject
With a minor nudge of her foot under the table.
But this will be a hard conversation, and they might as well having something good to get them through it.
"Have some," is followed by, "And ask me. Whichever part you want to start with."
no subject
But he starts with, "How are the others taking it?"
She knows him well enough to know it's not an evasion.
no subject
"Astarion is upset," is the place she chooses to start. An understatement, of sorts. "I spoke with Ellie and Abby and Margaery. I think they'll stay, but I don't know about Astarion."
A pause, while she leans forward for the little pots containing butter and dip.
"Loxley has been here long enough that I think he was expecting some sort of unfairness. And the others...I'll try to speak with the ones I've met. It might help."
no subject
Astarion's initial outburst, after all, had been plenty public. He'd heard it more or less in real time, though he hadn't reached out in the moment. The reason isn't hard to guess, not after their conversation in cold, dark caves far from here.
He's not sure how much of that Derrica does or doesn't know, and it's not for him to tell regardless.
"He might not," Holden allows, then adds, "But he risked his life to save mine in Tantervale, when it would've been easier to run. He might surprise us."
And,
"Coming from you, it will." Help, as much as it can, at least. "I've promised Madame de Cedoux any help I can give her, and the same goes for you."
no subject
Yes, it's Holden's fight too, and she's glad that he is so quick to involve himself. But in the same breath, Derrica regrets that he has to. Holden gives so much of himself. Derrica knows what that costs him.
"I know you must have questions."
More than just about the state of the other rifters they have in common.
no subject
But of course Derrica wouldn't see him that way.
"Was that the compromise?" is what he asks, after a moment. "The Chantry agrees that rifters aren't demons, so instead of killing us," he assumes, "we go in Circles?"
no subject
It shames her, that she'd only focused so closely on the phylactery negotiations. She might have asked Ilias and Julius about the rest, while they had been untangling the process of reclaiming her own.
"It started with phylacteries. And the outcome is why none were ever made for Rifters," Derrica tells him, a piece of good news that might ease the rest. "But I don't know what else was asked for, just that this is what was settled on. They think you're closer to mages than to anyone else in Thedas, so you'll share our fates when Corypheus isn't a threat."
no subject
"It was the only move they could make," he says, contemplative, "without abolishing Circles. It doesn't make sense to lock up mages, who they know are people, and let rifters go free."
And rifters are people, he'd argue with anyone, any day of the week. But it's not like he, or anyone else in Riftwatch, can pretend to really understand what they are on a fundamental, molecular level. Rifters, who are — as a rule — less likely to accept the Chantry's edicts, or power, than anyone who grew up in this world.
Goes unsaid, but hangs heavy in the air: the only real way to prevent this future is to completely destroy the practice of Circles.