Stone's Throw

[Varric]

He sighs as he takes a seat at his desk. "They weren't fast enough dropping this off," he explains, voice a little glum.

[Helene Dakesh]

"Oh, no," ne sympathizes. "So now you know who it is?"

[Varric]

"Well there's a chance the actual writer used a messenger... or a disguise spell," he offers in a tone that says he knows very well neither thing was done.

[Helene Dakesh]

"I suppose," Helene commiserates. "Well, now that you know, what will you do?"

[Varric]

Varric exhales slowly, thinking. "Well... they clearly have a reason for not just approaching me. Or either of us. So... so I think I'll respond to this sheet as normal, but add a note offering in person lessons. One-on-one."

[Helene Dakesh]

"A wise choice."

[Varric]

"Sometimes, just for variety, I give wisdom a cast."

[GamesMaster]

The reply to Varric's response comes quicker than usual, ignoring all the other math concepts he sends to reply to the extra note: "Promise you won't tell my dad?"

[Varric]

Varric's return note simply reads, 'having honeyed milk and cookies with your grandpa isn't anything that needs telling about.'

[GamesMaster]

Silas has Aveline's flaming red hair in an ungovernable tangle; at 11, he's just old enough to start taking lessons with the other kids, and he is quiet to the point it's affecting his speech -- his voice is thick, hard to understand when he does speak up, leading him to become quieter. He dutifully tags after the others, playing stickball and kickball and basket-ball with the aplomb you'd expect from Carver's kid. He's right around the same age developmentally as Bari, Carver's adopted daughter, but he'll be passing her up soon, and they don't get along much anyway. 

All this to say, it's beyond unusual for Silas to be the one dropping off the notes, and yet, here he is, timidly clutching a stuffed dragon as he arrives for tea, an irritated Siggy trailing after. "Good, you have him," Siggy says upon seeing that yes, Silas really was going to grandpa's house, not sneaking off to get into trouble; without further ado, Siggy leaves to go back to wherever he left Bari. 

[Varric]

"Hey there, kiddo," Varric says with a warm smile, then waves a hand towards the back of the house. "Let's head to my study to get settled in. I have oatmeal cookies, with and without dried fruit, plus sugar cookies waiting."

[GamesMaster]

Silas clutches Vanny, his comfort object, and follows, silent as ever. When they get to the study, he climbs into the big chair, cuddling the stuffed doll and waiting for Varric to start. 

[Varric]

By this point, Varric is no novice to taking care of little ones. Still, while he'd be deeply reluctant to admit it out loud, he's self-aware enough of his difficulties with connecting to those with still developing minds and thus typically lets others take point. Still. "So... how're you doing? How was your morning?" he tries, setting a plate filled with fresh baked (and only slightly less freshly purchased as every single one of his traitorous children have forbidden him from giving his grandkids his own cooking) on the table next to him. "Oh, and do you want any cinnamon or chili powder in your honey milk?"

[GamesMaster]

"Chiri," he says quietly, his thick voice clear enough to be understood in the quiet of the study.  "Morning good."

[Varric]

Sulis do so love their spice. "Coming right up," he says brightly, moving to the side board where he has a pot of milk simmering over a small gas flame. "Did you get a chance to do any of that last sheet yet?"