faderift | A Cruel Twist of Fate [closed]

[ As soon as he touches her, she freezes. Just like when he came up to her when she called him late at night, just like she keeps freezing whenever anyone surprises her like that. Maybe one day she'll stop. Or just get used to it. But she's already gotten used to moving on quickly after she recovers. ]

Ah--? Of course, Zevran.

[ Small frown. ]

Did I do anything wrong? I'm sorry, if I did.

Wrong? No, nothing wrong. I merely wish to discuss something with you that may not be entirely pleasant.

And I am, perhaps, a little disappointed that you did not bring the matter to my attention and I had to hear of it from Alistair- but I can understand why you chose to keep it to yourself. I can even respect that choice and thus- only a little disappointed to be late to the game rather than in you for making said choice.

[ He rubs her shoulder idly, a gesture meant to soothe. ]

I am of course speaking of Cade Harimann and your...argument? Fight? Assault?

[ She tenses when he mentions it won't be pleasant, and as he continues to talk, that tension only grows. Dammit, Alistair. But she can't be too mad at him--Zevran would have found out sooner or later, Beleth knew. If it had to be anyone, Alistair was probably the best person to here it from. He had been there, he knew both Beleth and Cade. ]

I didn't tell anyone. I lied to everyone who asked what happened to my face.

[ She mutters it quietly, gesturing to her nose, to the way it's now tilted a bit, a scar marking the place it juts to the side. ]

Everyone who knows heard it from someone else or saw it themselves.

[ The disappointment stings, but then he says it's okay, she thinks. That's what it sounds like. And his touch is gentle and kind, so she relaxes, just a little. She's not happy about the subject, but all considered, she owes it to Zevran to let him ask his questions. ]

What do you want to know?

Ignoring what was done and how it has been handled. What would you have seen done, and how do you wish it handled? Pretend no action has been taken, that we are immediately after the fact.

[ He will lead in to the rest, the flogging, his change of how things might be handled- how much he says depends upon her response. ]

...

[ She frowns, fingers twisting together as she thinks on the question. It's a tricky question for sure--because Beleth can't bring herself to say a simple answer, to condemn nor forgive Cade for his actions. After she mulls on it for a time, she thinks she has an answer--kind of. ]

I had wished--I wanted them to give him a harsh punishment. I wanted them to say that what he did was terrible, that hurting me wasn't acceptable. I don't care what. Prison or exile. But then, I would come forward and plead for leniency for him. I'd give a rousing speech, everyone would be moved, and decide to let the matter drop and never speak of it again.

[ It sounds even dumber out loud. She shrugs. ]

I didn't want Cade to be treated harshly. But I didn't want the Inquisition to brush it off the way that they did.

If I ever doubted your ability to recognize a situation you could turn in your favor for the greater good or the good of your people and plan how to do so? It has been laid to rest.

[ Beleth has come a fair way from simply changing how she behaved around others to earn the desired response. This? Is the thought process of a Bard. He will always worry for her but that? HE must be proud of. More than enough for him to drop a kiss to her forehead. ]

An excellent plan. I suppose you do no care for the current state of things, where he is watched at all hours by a Tranquil?

[ She's a bit surprised by the sudden praise, but she happily accepts it, smiling and softly bumping her shoulder against him. ]

You haven't seen anything yet, Zevran. Just wait until I take over Orlais.

[ She blinked at his question regarding Cade, slowly tilting her head. She hadn't exactly been around the Templar a lot since the incident, hadn't quite paid attention to anyone watching over him. But she supposed that if Zevran said that was the situation, than it was. Though she couldn't quite figure out why he would care, nor why he would bother to bring it up with her at all. ]

I...can't see that really doing him any good, I suppose? I mean--Those Tranquil are kind of, ah. Unsettling. I think that I'd be on edge if I had to have on following me around all the time.

Ah, one day you will be a master of the craft and I can sit back and watch, knowing I have taught you well.

[ He is proud, that goes without saying- but Beleth does better when things that should be obvious in this way are pointed out. ]

And were I to offer an alternative means of handling him, would that be agreeable to you?

[ Sure enough, she looks quite pleased by Zevran's words, even if it is under the hypothetical situation that she manages to take over and rule Orlais. She knows what he means. She ducks her head, a fond smile on her face, though that inevitable freezes when they continue their original conversation. The expression turns to confusion, glancing sidelong at Zevran. ]

...What kind of alternative means?

Watched less, but minded more. Punishment handled on a case by case basis when he breaks a rule rather than constant watching that will only serve to spur him into more intense fits.

[ She nods along with Zevran's words. She might have been suspicious if it was someone else telling her this. Another templar, or someone who might have questionable priorities. But Zevran? She trusts Zevran. She's not sure why he cares, but if he does, he does for good reasons. ]

It sounds like a good idea to me. I don't think anyone needs my official approval to do anything, but, ah. I hope that it helps.

[ She could have left it at that, moved on, and maybe never have it brought up again. But...no. There's a weight on her mind, and she has to let it go, before this is dropped. ]

...I started it. [ The confession is quiet, and her eyes turn back to the road. ] We were arguing, and I got in his space. He told me to go away. I could tell that he was getting upset, and I just--I shoved him. That's when he snapped. It wasn't until I shoved him.

It is something I am considering but as you are the wounded party here, your thoughts matter.

[ Especially considering how terrified she had been in that moment. He is content to leave it at that, settled in the course he has chosen-

And that little detail comes to light. ]

...and why did you shove him?

[ Beleth looks thoughtful for a moment, crossing her arms. She opens her mouth, frowns, and closes it again. She remembers the actions, she remembers the way every single person moved from the moment she approached Cade, has it memorized like they had been rehearsing it. Any emotions besides the blinding panic that had consumed her? Much fuzzier.

It's a fair question, after all. Beleth isn't usually one for confrontation. And for her to get physically violent with a man who was bigger, stronger than her? It was--uncharacteristic. ]

I was mad. I was so mad. [ She speaks like she's recalling a memory far more distant. ] I was mad--at him? I wanted him to be mad, too.

[ She wanted him to hurt. She was mad and frustrated and she needed to control something. She lashed out because Cade was irritating and because she knew that she could push his buttons. As soon as the ugly thoughts rise in her mind, she shoves them back down, horrified, securing them back in the depths of her memories. Zevran didn't need to know that. No one did. ]

He always treated me like a servant, like I was beneath him. Like he was better than me. And then he ordered me to leave, like he had any right. I was already so mad at that point, I wanted to show him that I wasn't his damned serving girl. Never again shall we submit, and whatnot.

[ She sighed, looking up at the sky. ]

It was idiotic. I'm aware. Trust me, I am aware.

[ A thought seems to occur, more than the anger. Something subtle and frightening and he could, perhaps, guess at it. But it would be far better to have her speak of such things and move forward- especially since he does not have a full read on the situation.

Cade's side he knows somewhat. Beleth's? Hardly at all. ]

You wanted him to be angry because you were angry, and so you shoved him.

[ Carefully, slowly, as though putting pieces together. ]

I do not need to tell you that there are better ways of manipulating people than pushing them.

[ She nods, eyes going back down to the road. It sounds stupid, but at least it sounds sane. ]

I thought--He was on edge. If I made him lose his temper, I'd prove that he wasn't any better than me. I don't know what I expected, I wasn't thinking very clearly. Maybe I thought he'd just call me a knife-eared bitch, or take a swing at me?

I know. It was idiotic. I think--I know that I've paid my due for that mistake. But--If you're going to help Cade, you need to know that. I pushed him first.

All you proved is that you have no idea how to pick your battles, size up an opponent, or plan ahead when you are frustrated. A beating is not a lesson for a mistake, it is a beating. If it keeps you from never making the mistake again? Perhaps it can be considered as such.

Next time you find yourself feeling quite so out of sorts- call me instead. We will talk through it. You are not yet skilled enough to provoke someone to a rage and handle them- a time may come when you need to do so as a Bard- but doing it otherwise? Will get you killed. If you talk to me we might sort out what it is that has you feeling quite so wound tight and do what we can to prevent said winding from happening again.

[ She should just nod. Just take it and nod and agree. Yes, Zevran, you're right, I fucked up, I'm sorry, it won't happen again. And in a way, it's a relief to have someone, finally, tell her that she fucked up, instead of handling her with kid gloves, treating her like a victim. But his words twist inside of her, and she glances up at him with a resentful frown. ]

You weren't there. You were busy with your new students. You didn't speak to me for--how long? You disappeared.

[ She glances back down, still frowning. Well, there was the source of some of that tension. No one had left Antiva without some issues. ]

I don't--I don't blame you. I don't think that you could have been there for me, even if I'd reached out to you. And you don't always have to be available for me. I'll--I'll do something better. If I get that mad again.

The Crows that were purchased as slaves, tortured into compliance, lived knowing they are entirely without worth, consider themselves expendable, and did not understand something so simple as a game of tag. Those students.

[ Not one to pull punches, is Zevran- less so when a student seems to be not only doubting herself, but doubting him. ]

Ah, but that is precisely what you are doing. You say "I don't blame you" but you do, and you wish me to know it while disavowing yourself of that sentiment, but while making me very much aware that you consider that it would be your right should you choose to feel that way. If you truly did not blame me, you would not accuse me of being busy with the Kestrels. You would have simply pointed out 'you were in no state to help, Zevran', and you would have been correct. At the time I was struggling with a brand new blind eye, memories of several days worth of torture by blood magic and all that comes from such things. I, perhaps, was a bit preoccupied.

[ It could be cruel, could be cutting- and for someone he did not like? It'd be just so. With Beleth it is wryly sarcastic, but no less honest for it. ]

If you had reached out, I would have answered. You did not and I do not blame you for it, truly. You have never truly had a mentor that would spare the time for you and thus it is not something you think to do. Am I wrong?

[ She's pretty sure that it would have been more pleasant if Zevran had just stabbed her and gotten it over with. Beleth wouldn't have complained, certainly. Anger spikes up in her, indignant and ready to yell remarks that were just as cutting. She could do it. She could use words like knives just like him. But reality kicks in, and with it, all the other emotions besides that knee-jerk urge to have the last word. And in the face of that pain that feels nearly physical (and Beleth would have preferred physical pain, honestly), the anger wanes.

She chooses the easier path, taking what Zevran slings at her with a flinch, withdrawing from him and pulling herself inward. Putting physical and mental distance between them helps. She keeps her eyes down, shaking her head. ]

No, you're not wrong. I'm sorry.

[ Should've done that before. Dumb ass. ]

There will come a time when it will sink in that I am reliable in this-

[ He takes a moment to consider what he's saying and his nose wrinkles as he's struck by the sheer ridiculousness of where he is in his life, now. What he is doing, what he is saying. ]

When did I become reasonable and responsible? I suppose I must blame Alistair- only one of us must grow up at any given time and apparently it is my turn. Remind me to counteract this by leaving something disgusting in his boots when we return. [ Because that, clearly, will counteract this. Right. ] Where were we?

Ah, yes. Me. Being reliable. I said that with a straight face...

[ And he meant it. What is his life coming to? ]

A day will come when you realize that I am reliable and that you can call and be answered. I would offer to take knives to whoever let you grow and think you had to handle everything on your own but as that is likely your own mother at fault it probably would not go over so well, yes?

[ There are very few people in Thedas who could speak like Zevran just did and not have Beleth attempt to punch them repeatedly. That Zevran could probably kill her with one hand if she tried is a fairly negligible fact. If Beleth were in a better mood, if she hadn't already assumed the role of the kicked dog, she might have even gotten after Zevran with an elbow and harsh words. As it is, his side conversation is ignored, and she just shrugs, eyes still on the ground.

But she can't just not respond. He'd probably get mad. ]

My mother--well, I guess she counts as a sort of mentor, being my mother, and my Keeper. But she didn't train me. She had to focus on training the First and Second, not bothering with nonmages. And--She isn't a bad mother. She loves me.

[ She examines her hands carefully. Very fascinating, her hands. ]

I guess you could blame my father...? If you really wanted to get into my father issues, which you shouldn't, my mother issues are already more than enough. But you can't take knives to my father, someone else already did.

Beleth.

[ He can be patient- and he does try with this whole mentorship thing to be patient for those he means to mentor- but even that patience has a limit. He has not yet reached it, but the horizon, ah, she is very close. ]

Look at me.

[ She does look, as soon as he asks, tense. She messed up. She should have just agreed, why does she keep not agreeing? What is wrong with her? Should she apologize? Would that be too much? Figuring out what she did wrong and apologizing for that specifically would probably be better than just muttering 'sorry' over and over. ]

...I got carried away. My apologies.

[ That's good. Fairly neutral, not quite saying what she got carried away with. Maybe now she can just stop spilling out her neurosis for Zevran to have to deal with. Less is more, Zevran had said so himself. ]

Breathe.

[ Simple commands that are easy to follow. Apparently he has tripped some manner of spiral off without intending it- either he took an ax to an internal support that bore more weight than either of them thought or she truly has yet to recover.

Either way? They must work through it. ]

Deep and even. This is not a lesson. You are not being graded. You are not being judged. Breathe.

[ She nods, slowly. She can do that. And she does, taking slow, deep breaths. It's hard to resist the urge to apologize more--He'd just said that she could rely on him, and she flipped out at the idea that he may be getting irritated at her. But she just keeps her mouth shut, and instead ducks her head to him, waiting for his next instructions. ]

A Cruel Twist of Fate [closed]

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