The answer is almost in itself endearing in how straightforward a straight line it is:
“When Wysteria was settling her arrangements before she left for Orzammar,” she reminds him, “you told her that you wanted one.” And Wysteria had told him they’d cost his eye teeth, and he’d said he’d figure it out, and Gwenaëlle had thought: well, why shouldn’t she do it? “She was happy to collude with me, although she was fairly unsubtly disappointed we weren’t colluding over anything more interesting. You could not have wanted something more boring to her if you’d tried.”
Which tickles her, a bit. Both because a dwarven-made pocketwatch seems like a perfectly fine thing to want, and because it’s— nice, a bit, to be dull. Even to be thought dull. The simple fact of it is, though:
she has been paying him a great deal of mind for as long as they’ve known each other. He had said it, but not to her, and she had been listening, and that had been plenty.
“Everything else was made particularly for you,” the coat she’d handsewn, the poetry she’d pressed her lips to, the cologne mixed to specifications to complement her favourite scent in particular, “but you were so enthusiastic about pocket-watches I didn’t think you’d mind if we just had to trust Wysteria’s taste.”
no subject
“When Wysteria was settling her arrangements before she left for Orzammar,” she reminds him, “you told her that you wanted one.” And Wysteria had told him they’d cost his eye teeth, and he’d said he’d figure it out, and Gwenaëlle had thought: well, why shouldn’t she do it? “She was happy to collude with me, although she was fairly unsubtly disappointed we weren’t colluding over anything more interesting. You could not have wanted something more boring to her if you’d tried.”
Which tickles her, a bit. Both because a dwarven-made pocketwatch seems like a perfectly fine thing to want, and because it’s— nice, a bit, to be dull. Even to be thought dull. The simple fact of it is, though:
she has been paying him a great deal of mind for as long as they’ve known each other. He had said it, but not to her, and she had been listening, and that had been plenty.
“Everything else was made particularly for you,” the coat she’d handsewn, the poetry she’d pressed her lips to, the cologne mixed to specifications to complement her favourite scent in particular, “but you were so enthusiastic about pocket-watches I didn’t think you’d mind if we just had to trust Wysteria’s taste.”