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[thereneverwas]

[For correspondence, private scenes, and anthrax.]

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[luaithre]

[ There's another short silence, Marcus writing something down, but the silence persists afterwards. Minor frustration, and while it isn't out of affection for Barrow that Marcus doesn't direct it at him, it's kept mostly contained. Increasingly more certain he's not going to get anything he's looking for.

So it's with a hint of that frustration when he asks, ]

Did she ever say anything to you? Of the rebellion, or of the Chantry, the Order. Of mages.

[thereneverwas]

[Being on the older side as far as Templars go, and still very much taking the lyrium, Barrow is well aware that his memory isn't what it possibly should be even at his age; all the same, he tries, his eyes going distant for a long moment as he considers the question.
At a certain point, he furrows his brow, tilting his head slightly as a memory surfaces.]

Do you remember Leander?

[luaithre]

[ Marcus has patience for as long as Barrow sits and thinks, a silence waiting to be filled. When he speaks, Marcus nods, once. ]

[thereneverwas]

Funny little fellow, that one.

[He scratches his head, thinking back.]

That dream we all had, where everything was different. We were in the Frostbacks, he and I were having a chat-- he got killed. Shot through the face from behind.

[He shudders slightly, in spite of himself. He's seen plenty of people die, and gruesomely at that, but the suddenness of it sticks with him.]

She appeared, not long after. With her crossbow. It was just a dream, but. [He shrugs one shoulder.]

[luaithre]

[ There are minor tensions that form as soon as Barrow says the word 'dream', but otherwise focused forward. A stillness and silence as he listens that speaks to processing something complicated

before he dutifully sets this down onto his page. ]

And did she say anything to you then? Or on waking?

[ —asked while he writes elaborations, that simmer of frustration from before now gone. ]

[thereneverwas]

I asked her about it. She was very skilled at answering without answering.

[He looks a bit disturbed by the resurfacing of the memory,]

...in the dream, she'd said I made a good distraction.

[luaithre]

[ Well, at least he asked about it.

For this next part, a small tell, then, from Marcus while he writes, a subtle tic at his jaw and barest shake of his head that can only translate as: this bitch.

Another two seconds of pen scratches, before he says, ]

Thank you.

[thereneverwas]

[Barrow's relief at the sound of those two words is near-tangible, a bit of the tension leaving his shoulders.]

That everything, then?

[Freedom. He can taste it.]

[luaithre]

[ Marcus looks down at his notes, evaluating them, mouth tightening in the corner with some amount of dissatisfaction, but to what specifically— ]

Aye, [ setting pen aside, and pages to dry. ]

But, [ the kind of intrusive qualifier spoken by a man who has in the past managed children desperate to also escape whatever lesson he's been imparting, and being made to sit still a little longer ] if there is more you can think of, with Fitcher, anything that seems suspicion now to you, I'd have you bring it to me.

[thereneverwas]

[Having been one such child once upon a time, Barrow casts an anxious glance back toward Marcus as he hefts out of his chair, but offers a solemn nod that communicates his understanding. He certainly has no intention of seeking out Enchanter Rowntree for any reason after today, so it's for the best that he doesn't have more information to give anyway.]

Righto, [he grunts, making his way toward the door. Time to go drink away whatever the fuck that was.]