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WHO: Beleth and YOU
WHAT: Beleth trying to help out around Skyhold and not trying to help out around the Warden Camp
WHEN: Late Justinian, around the time Leliana is sick.
WHERE: The rookery in Skyhold and the Warden Camp
NOTES: Verbal abuse aimed at ravens, cat bribery, and bacon theft.

1) The Rookery

With Leliana out of commission, there's a lot of information, notes, and reports that are piling up. Nothing important, of course, Beleth hasn't seen anything above her paygrade. She supposes that all of the serious information gets funneled somewhere else--Maria, or the other advisors, or maybe a chain of messenger nugs. In any event, she has a pile of fairly mundane information that Leliana will still need to sort through at some point, and unable to aid her mentor in other capacities, Beleth has taken it upon herself to try to organize the information for her. Everything is numbered and sorted into folders, and most of her time is spent writing a series of summaries with the sources noted, so if Leliana wants to read the original report, she knows where to look.

It's tedious, but fascinating, in a way. It feels good to help out Leliana in any way she can, keeping her from getting mobbed by the day to day information that would pile up otherwise. And it's good practice, if Beleth ever wants to be a real bard some day. And it certainly doesn't hurt to get a chance to be one of the first people to learn interesting pieces of gossip.

She can be found at Leliana's desk, with a pile of meticulously piled paperwork, scribbling away at a piece of parchment. She can also be found having an argument with a raven, trying to wrestle a cannister from him while the bird squawks and flaps and carries on like Beleth is personally attempting to murder him. And later on, after a failed attempt at bribing the raven in question, she can be found sitting again at Leliana's desk, this time with other ravens covering the desk and her, with a particularly fat one laying on her head. She's apparently given up on writing for now, muttering to one of the ravens in question.

"You can call me...Agent Belladonna. Hmm. Bard Belladonna. Hello, my name is.........Belladonna."

2) Camp Shady Fuckers

Having accumulated more raven feathers than anyone would ever need, ever, it is quite simply a crime to just let them lay around and gather dust. Luckily, there are ways to creatively use them for good causes. It is with this good cause in mind that elf slips over to one of the cooking fires in the camp, one that has bacon cooking over it, completely unattended. The bacon is liberated into a pouch, with one piece stuffed into her mouth. Then from another pouch, a bunch of raven feathers are taken out, and thrown around on the ground.

It's the perfect crime, probably. Until Beleth hears a meow.

She turns around to discover a familiar-looking cat, staring at her, in what is undoubtedly accusation. She looks left, right, then bends down, pulling a piece of the bacon from her pouch, and holding it out for the cat.

"You didn't see anything."

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As per usual, Araceli comes in via the upper door of the rookery from the walkway, though she's just as prone to entering via one of the windows if Leliana knows that she's up there on the rooftop when she drops by to quickly let her know how things are progressing. Right now she's back from doing what Charter asked her to do which is basically what she already does: go to the tavern, listen to what people are saying, get them to say more. This just has the added step of writing it down and that's what she's carrying with her.

"Hola Beleth, hola cuervos!" She calls, no Lux with her since he'd spend the whole time having his tail pulled by Baron Plucky and Marion Squawke.

One of the ravens flies over to her quickly, perching on her shoulder to poke at one of her earrings as she joins Beleth, arching an eyebrow at her as she strokes the raven's head carefully; this bird tends to get sent after her since it's easier to send a bird to find Araceli rather than a scout when she's likely up on the rooftops or the walls. Another few she displaces when she hops up to perch herself on one of the remaining spots on the desk, smiling at her fellow bard.

"Is the crow part of Belladonna's persona?"

It's a sign that she's somewhere she feels comfortable, and that she's gotten used to Araceli popping out of windows, that she doesn't flinch when the other bard in training appears. Which is a good thing, because the last thing she wants to do is startle all the gathered crows and have them leave a grand mess all over Leliana's desk. Instead, she turns to face Araceli, a sheepish grin on her face as she dislodges the bird on her head and sets it on her lap instead.

"Andaran atish’an, Araceli. I suppose being menaced by crows would certainly add some depth to her, wouldn't it? Perhaps she made an ancient pact with the first crows. Would that be stealing the Nighingale's thing?" She pondered, petting the fat crow absently. "I'm just worrying that it sounds silly. I need to be taken seriously, if I'm going to do this right." She glances up to Araceli with another smile, shrugging.

"I'm sure the more seriously I use it, the more it will be taken seriously. But what of yourself? Anything interesting afoot? Or awing?"

"I know more about seabirds than songbirds, perhaps Zevran would be better placed to judge these things when he has kestrels tucked under his wing as well. I was thinking more of a title rather than a name, perhaps we should get masks one day and finer clothes, go out some place and try them out to get used to them? Even to a tavern to be two mysterious ladies. Belladonna and the Maid on the Shore." She's never said that aloud to anyone but Lux before, and Lux just puts a paw or his nose to her cheek, or rests his head closer to her lute if she's playing. Not the best barometer of the name she's chosen but the song is a favourite, one that fits her well and it has the right air of mystique for a girl with a shard in her hand.

"Planning for my trip to Rivain, not the easiest thing when I have to haggle via letter rather than down at the docks with the captains but-" An expansive shrug to say what can you do because this is life and she can't abandon her duties entirely until it's time to go since the trip had already been cleared with Leliana. At least she can stay with Korrin's grandmother so it's just the ship but still, easier at home. "And the usual slew of rumours at the tavern, everyone gossips and the soldiers gossip more than fishwives if you get them going. I wrote down what seemed important or relevant, given the circumstances."

Digging into her pocket - ignore the jangling of coin but how else does a girl make a living to buy fine things for herself and her loved ones in Skyhold where there is little call for a thief? - she pulls out several scrolls of paper, all filled with her elegant, looping hand to add to the pile.

"...Are there a lot of birds around the sea? I mean--" She blinks, contemplating the unpleasant journey she made with her clanmates across the Waking Sea, the only interaction she's had with a large body of water. "--Do they go very far past the shore...? If they go in the water like a duck, they could get eaten." That was one thing she hadn't seen, but had heard plenty about. Monster fish larger than a man, with razor teeth.

But there are more important things to think over than birds, and Beleth's attention is quickly caught by Araceli's own choice for a bard name. "The Maid on the Shore," The name is repeated in a quiet, admiring tone, testing out the sound for herself. "I like it. It's--mysterious. Like you're a rumor fishwives tell. Um. Unless that's not what you're going for." She glances at Araceli worriedly, though the expression shifts to a small smile as Beleth accepts the scrolls of paper.

"Let me know if I can help you with your trip," The Dalish says, as she skims the papers. "Rivain is quite a trip. You'll be careful, won't you?"

"There are hundreds of birds by the sea. Some spend their whole lives by the shore or the sands, many nest in the cliffs overlooking the oceans, others dive deep into the sea to catch the fish often when things like dolphins, seal or whales, or our fishermen force them to the surface. A few of them go on huge flights far out to sea to hunt, hundreds of miles. And then there are all the other birds that migrate at the right season. They stop along the way but they still have to fly over huge stretches of ocean to do it," she explains, hands mapping it out on the table as she goes without really thinking too much about it. "Sometimes they get eaten but they're very fast, though watching a great white shark breach..."

Closing her eyes she gives herself a shake; if she gets homesick she won't get past it, not when planning for Rivain is making her miss her father more than ever, when she wants to tuck herself next to his side.

"It's a song, actually, it was the first thing I taught myself to play on the lute here and it's about a thief. I'll play it for you when I come back if you'd like, but I promise to be careful, I wouldn't want Korrin to worry."

Skyhold probably wouldn't want Korrin to worry if anything happened to Araceli while she was off studying but she can't imagine too much coming up while she tries to find books and information they simply don't have here.

"You'll keep me up to date too, if anything changes with the Nightingale? Or if anything comes up at all? I'll be staying with Korrin's grandmother while I'm there so there won't be too much to worry about with anyone overhearing."

The picture that Araceli paints is fascinating, much better than what Beleth had seen. She wants to keep asking about the birds, about the sea and the nature that thrived on it. She wants to see what Araceli had seen. But she knows homesickness, and she knows that Araceli must feel it far more acutely than she does. When Araceli opens her eyes again, Beleth just nods and moves on with the conversation.

"I'd love to hear the song, I look forward to your return. And to Korrin not worrying." She paused, measuring delicate balances in her mind, trying to figure out if what she wanted to say next would be appropriate, or too forward for their current situation. Can you be forward in platonic relationships? She's pretty sure that's possible. But after some thought, she crosses her arms, tilting her head.

"And Korrin isn't the only one who will be worrying about you. I'll keep you up to date, but make sure that you do the same for me." Leliana was, after all, out of the forest, even if she was still recovering. She would survive. "Templars are--" She pressed her lips into a thin line, glancing around worriedly. Even now, she was hesitant to voice any open objections to their order. "--They have spent their lives bullying and hurting people weaker than them. And were told that they were righteous for it."

Catch her after a trip at sea and you'll have to leave to shut her up but longing to hear the creaking of the mast or the snapping of sails makes it worse, when she knows it won't ever be her father on the deck of one of those ships, when the islands and archipelagos will never be home.

A very indelicate snort escapes Araceli, a raven quorking at her in response. "She won't be fun. Believe me. But when I come back you and I, plenty of food from the kitchens thanks to our good friend Burly, and some good rum or whatever you like to drink, our lutes and Lux. We'll disappear off and I can play you that and some songs, you could maybe play a few from your people? I don't think I've heard many Dalish songs." Which is a shame, given all their gods and their culture, their way of life - it's one of the best ways to learn about a people and she has a good idea that as soon as she starts singing to Beleth, she'll have a better idea about Araceli herself. "Gracias, Beleth, I will list all the delicious things I have eaten. And get the recipes just for you." She's teasing but well, it settles her when she's going into the unknown after all.

"'Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.' If we could all agree on what peace and what version of just then perhaps we might inch towards getting somewhere." Even if Araceli is a rifter, she'll always be human so the boundaries are different for her, and if she can say what they both might be thinking then well, the punishment might not be the same. Hesitating for a moment since she heard it more from Korrin because they'd been sharing a tent so Araceli had pretty much abandoned Twisted Fate in favour of Korrin, she clears her throat. "Do you mean Cade Harimann? I heard about what happened in Emprise du Lion." Her voice is soft enough not to carry, not pitying Beleth but sympathetic, stripping away as much as she can should anyone be listening: they both know what happened, no one can repeat any unfortunate choice of words or tone or expression this way.

"I'll survive, hopefully." Beleth assures her with a wry smile. She's had to face worse than a qunari fussing over her girlfriend. Probably. Maybe? "But the rest of that sounds lovely. I'd love to hear more songs from your people, and, ah--" She pauses for a few moments, thinking. "--There are some I can tell to you of my People. And I've been working on a few songs about the Dalish and our history. I doubt they'll hold much interest to people outside of the Elvhen, but." She shrugs. Some of the songs of the Dalish felt...too personal to share. They were sacred relics for her people, not her place to give away. The ones she was working on were more aimed at being consumed by outsiders.

"...I think I look forward to the food more, though. You're going to make me spend the entire time you're away hungry." She laughed quietly, rubbing her shoulder. The laughter fizzles out when Araceli mentions Cade, and Beleth wonders if she will spend the rest of her life haunted by that incident. A ghost that refused to be ignored. Her lips press into a thin line as she glances to the side. With the few attempts she'd made to talk to Cade, and then their adventure in the Fade--Facing his demons (literally), it was hard to throw him under the bus. Wagon?

"No," Her voice is nearly a whisper, as her eyes focus out of the small windows in the rookery. "That's not what happened with him." And, more to herself than to Araceli, she mutters. "I think it would've been easier if it were."

"Most of the history of my people is told in song, even if one person hears it then it's worth it." Even if that one person is her, and she would probably want to drag along Korrin at some point though some things would definitely just be for her and Beleth since bard life isn't always so neat and simple. There are a few others she can think of too but that might be a little overwhelming. Start small then work her way up.

A very quiet curse escapes her, maybe one Beleth might understand since it's close enough to something Antivan-sounding. "Forgive me, I have had few dealings with Templars beyond Knight-Commander Baratheon's initial outburst and dinner with Knight-Commander Sauveterre when he was still in Skyhold after the interrogations of the rifters." And the latter had been her and Marcel, that had been strategy, trying to salvage a reputation dragged neatly into the gutter by one woman who cared nothing for the fact that they were branded collectively. "I should not have brought it up without thinking."

"I would be honored to listen to you singing of your people's history, then." She smiles cheerfully, wondering if she was being too harsh in feeling like some of the Dalish songs were too private--but she can think on that later. Words can't be returned once spoken, so it paid to be cautious.

She keeps the smile, even as Araceli apologizes, though it seems a bit more forced. Not that she's upset at Araceli--who could blame her? Beleth knew how the situation looked from the outside, and no one who was deeply involved, least of all Beleth herself, had taken any measure in trying to clear anything up. "Don't worry, Araceli. I have little love for the Templars, and they've done little to earn it since I've been here. I don't blame anyone for viewing them with caution. That just...wasn't the situation with Cade. He didn't lash out because he was stronger than me." She hesitates for a moment, before deciding that he deserved, at least, some people knowing he wasn't a complete and total ass.

"He was--a powder keg. I knew that he was, and I lit the match anyway. I just--underestimated just how big the explosion would be."

"I met him there. Well, met is perhaps a strong word. He and Korrin were sharing a tent, I went to stay with Korrin instead of my tentmate...it became awkward very quickly. He left." Fortunately, she realises now since Korrin and a Templar isn't going to be a fight she ever wants to witness, and she considers her words. She doesn't know Beleth well. Doesn't know what drives her, doesn't know her past - Leliana wants them to get along but given what she does know in broad terms? It has her raising an eyebrow.

She isn't a stranger to doing brash or dangerous stunts. The girl that runs around as a thief getting into duels before eventually attempting to steal the queen's jewels for the challenge? That's a girl that loves the thrill of things but that's a whole other kettle of fish entirely. So her question is simple when it comes. "Why? You seem more...careful than that. There's reckless and there's reckless."

The other word she wants doesn't translate neatly out of her native tongue unfortunately.

Beleth can't help it, she snorts in laughter when she hears Araceli's story. Korrin had already told her the story, and it had amused her then, and she can't help but still be amused by it even now. Which is probably not that great of her, considering everything. But whatever.

That Araceli doesn't know much about Beleth isn't surprising--It's quite purposeful, really. She avoids, generally, talking about herself. It's hardly an interesting subject, and too prone to bringing up uncomfortable topics--like this one. But she had wanted to try to explain the situation. So she soldiers on, rubbing her arm as she stared off at the sky.

"I was angry about something else. I was--I was so angry, it was like a poison in my skin. And Cade had been rude to me before. So--I wanted to make him mad, too." She falters, because the story has so many ways she can tell it, and it's instinct to word it to make sure that she appeared in the best light. She doesn't want Araceli, who always seems so fascinating, so collected and smart and together, to think badly of her. "So I antagonized him. I thought he'd yell. Call me a knife-eared bitch, or something like that. I didn't quite expect...what happened." She shrugged, lips twisting. "You can tell me I deserved it, if you want. I wouldn't blame you."

Araceli has had a lot of reactions to her body. To her sexuality in general. To her preference for women. She has never had that one before and when it had come from a Templar, and thus someone connected to the Chantry, she would prefer to joke about it since it does unsettle her at times. (There are many who would seek to shame her at the very least for simple facets of her very existence, of that she has no doubt, some would openly condemn her, others would seek to discredit her. She will change nothing but she notes all of them, just to be safe.)

Listening to the whole story for the first time after hearing it in other places - Araceli goes to the taverns or by the campfires to drink and gamble with anyone that will have her for a reason, because people will talk to her or near her, and she knows how to read their tells in that - she's reminded of things she did once. Duels she got into because she lost her temper. When a man was rude. When he insulted her, called her terrible names, said what she should do to him. The things said about her parents. The satisfaction of forcing them to yield before her blade in front of a crowd. But duels have rules. Duels are laid down. Duels are still carefully controlled. Araceli might have been hurt in them but it was her thieving that could have hurt her far worse but that had some noble intent behind it as much as her rush for adventure, to see if she could do something, so not quite the same. It does make her worry since Orlesian nobles are likely to be far worse than Cade, and bards have to behave a very certain way. One slip in a muscle in their faces even masked could give them away.

"No one deserves to be beaten, Beleth." For all that it's said quietly, it does nothing to lessen the convinction in her voice, nor that she holds Beleth's gaze. "No one," she repeats, to make the point clear.

"There's a satisfaction in antagonising people, in trying to get even with them but as you said: Templars have been told they are righteous for their actions, even if that is not the case with Cade, you are elven and Dalish. It would be very easy to condemn not only you but to condemn many others. How dare you strike such a man. Proof you were no better than the worst sort of things they believe. People like to group everyone together even if we are individuals and say that we do not represent the whole of our peoples, and resent when that duty is thrust upon us. It is the way of more than one world." Her smile twists, bitters, old arguments and painful discussions about rifters that she will carry with her. "You must think about what you wish to accomplish. Sometimes to allow a cooler head to prevail. We can't expect everything but as a thief? I planned half a dozen routes home, with places I could stop and hide, I made sure I knew as many ways in and out of a buildingas I could - I could never predict what would happen." The smile softens, head tipping to the side to see if Beleth follows what she's saying: Araceli for all that she comes across at times as carefree in her nature, is practical in her dealings. She would be a dead thief if not.

Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Beleth repeats it in her head like a mantra, as a hand rises to cover her mouth. In through your nose, out through your mouth. She closes her eyes, and tells herself that Araceli is trying to help, that Araceli is genuinely concerned, and that losing her temper over something like this would only strengthen the other woman's point. Prove that Beleth can't control herself, that she's the lesser bard, that she has to be lectured about interracial relations by a woman who is not only human, but has spent a handful of months within this world, with these relations.

Araceli's intent is good, and it's hardly her fault that Beleth's emotions are largely bottled up to the point that few realize just how sick she is of discussing this, of being at fault, or not being at fault, being guilty and innocent and everything in between. The Creators alone knew just how much Beleth had drilled into her own head how much she had fucked up. She wanted to scream at Araceli, yes, she gets it, if she didn't deserve the beating, why does she deserve the lecture? Does Araceli think she doesn't know how she messed up? Does she think that Beleth isn't aware that her actions are held against the entire Dalish community, that it was a stupid plan from the start? Does Araceli think that Beleth is a fucking idiot?

But it's unworthy of her. Of either of them.

Even so, Beleth can't quite control that she isn't happy, if the whole closed eyes and forced even breathing didn't give it away, then the deliberate way she speaks, words and tone carefully measured before being admitted past surely gives it away.

"I know," is all she has to say for several of those carefully controlled breathes, only continuing after she decides that two words will not do. "It was a mistake. Every single step of it was idiotic. I am. Aware." And that will have to do, because it's as much as Beleth can say without her voice cracking, without the cork of that carefully maintained bottle that her feelings are lovingly shoved into starting to shake and slip away.

Watching her, Araceli says nothing because she's been there. She has a temper. Even in Skyhold she's come back and kicked over the chair in her and Korrin's shared room, screamed and swore, upsetting the people that are unfortunate enough to share a wall with them but equally she knows this. Knows it better from home whenever someone brought something up to her that she would rather they didn't. Beleth might not have asked for it but this is Araceli's culture.

They're all part of a crew, and until a few months ago she was painfully aware of being a rifter and being interrogated. She still gets called a demon or abomination sometimes, if people think she doesn't hear, if she doesn't tuck her left hand a certain way so she can get through it with the least amount of hassle.

There's more she could say but the damage is probably already done and she has no desire to make it worse, not when her mind keeps straying elsewhere so she nods, takes a careful inhale and wears one of her usual smiles as if nothing is amiss because she's grown up knowing that even if she can't feel the eyes on her, it doesn't mean they aren't there.

"I should go, I have a lot to do before I leave." She says at last because sometimes a tactical retreat is for the best, and it's not exactly untrue: not with the amount of packing, with the last minute preparations to sort through. "Take care while I am away, I will have my sending crystal with me if you need me. If anything changes with the Nightingale, tell me and I shall return." No need to clarify that she means for the worse as she gives a nod, turning to head out the same way she came in, the candles at Leliana's little shrine still burning in her absence as she shuts the door behind her.

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