Talking shop and murder

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Beleth, Val, and Kostos
WHAT: Beleth asks her advisors for advice regarding an assassin who assassinated the wrong person
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Scoutmaster office
NOTES: Discussing this letter. tw for...assassination and murder and stuff.

Has Beleth actually ever had both her advisors in the same room before? She'd probably remember that. They were, after all, called on for different areas that rarely intersected. But here was finally an intersecting issue, one that Beleth felt rather lost regarding. So she calls them both to her office, and positions herself in front of her desk, leaning against it.

No need to put on airs around these two.

"So, the question therein is whether it would be better to assure Antiva that this was a rogue agent that we took care of, or if we should reveal that we were infiltrated. And what we should do if they ask us for recompense for this." She looks over some of the papers she's gathered on the subject, from Val to Kostos.

"We're already on thin ice with Nevarra. I'd really rather not have to add Antiva to that list. And I really don't want to explain to Madame de Cedoux that we're on the outs with Antiva because one of my agents felt impatient to get her task done." Her lips thin, displeased by the entire mess. Still, she's not looking forward to the idea of going about and letting Vintner get executed over the affair. Even if she had deserved it, what if the others found out? Would they be worried that Beleth might kill them over mistakes?

Comments

[degenere]

Uncles, in Val's experience, are better left ungifted.

"Uncles," Val says, "are sometimes better left ungifted." Because he is not afraid of sharing his opinion at any time. "Uncles of Orlais, at least. Merchant Prince uncles of Antiva may be an exception, especially if it is a gift of diplomacy--which, there you misunderstand, my friend. A gift of diplomacy may not be something needed or even liked, always, but wanted? It is always wanted. For this gift is a symbol of acknowledgement of having," and Val shrugs, one shouldered and somewhat gleefully, to denote that he be deviating into a moment of crassness, "fucked up, as it is said."

Swearing never loses its charm, in any language. Val considers the word with some pleased thought, turning it over the way another man might consider a precious gemstone. But he is not finished, if anyone was hopeful--

"The spirit of this acknowledgement is the true gift. Historically there are many such gifts that have been exchanged. A great household of Orlais is once said to have made such a gift to a wronged house of Orlais: a magical harp that would play without end. Of course, if that is a blessing or a curse depends on how you feel about harp music. I would have started a war."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth has to resist asking Kostos what the raven ever did to him, to earn such a look. It’s probably best that it isn’t addressed, lest she risk having to deal with some issue cropping up.

“Of course she’s got ties to royalty,” Beleth mutters with crossed arms, more to herself than either of them. “Why wouldn’t this be as terrible as it could possibly be?” So if they start giving gifts, it will have to be an appropriate weregild, not just gifts to soothe. She knows what a clan would pay to another clan for the incident, but human nobility remains a mystery.

But she hadn’t known about Kostos’ uncle. As Val speaks, she files the knowledge away, wondering how much more mysterious family connections she’ll unearth during this entire matter. Her expression pulls into one of distaste when Val broaches the idea of a constantly playing harp. “I would have to join you in that,” She admits, shaking her head. “I’m sure there are things I’d like less, but I can’t think of any at the moment. Let’s hold off on presents that would make us more enemies. Maybe...” She tilts her head, trying to think. Neither had supplied any actual ideas of suitable gifts, and Beleth is forced to attempt her own attempt.

“...Art?” She chances, looking between the two. “Paintings, or...statues, I suppose.”

[exequy]

“A head,” Kostos reiterates—from his written report, not from earlier in the meeting, he isn’t fixated. “It doesn’t have to be hers. Surely the Inquisition has an extra somewhere.”

This is sufficiently important for him to stop devoting half of his attention to the raven. He redirects it to watching Valentine out of the corner of his eye. Why are there so many words coming out of his face.

“Someone could enchant it to sing.”

[degenere]

"That would be more entertaining than a harp," Val says, thoughtfully. "And quite macabre. If only we had offended Nevarra. We could ask to have a singing skull enchanted."

Jokes! He smiles, his chin dropped back into his hand once more. And to denote his deep consideration, he drums his fingers there, exaggeratedly. Hmmm.

"I think we do not want to become in the business of sending off body parts, no matter who we intend to assuage, or from whose body the parts originate. Butchery for favor sets a dangerous precedent in any country. We want to remain light in our apology--a difficult feat. But that is why we are here, to achieve difficult feats."

The Inquisition, as a whole. He waves his free hand to encompass it.

"Perhaps a statue. It can be a statue of a head, if you are deeply fond of that idea. Perhaps with gemstone eyes. Now, that would be a piece for conversation."

[arlathvhen]

"We did offend Nevarra," Beleth replies sensibly, while pondering over all the terrible choices in her life that led her to having this conversation with these two men. "I'll be sure to let Madame de Coudex know that we've solved how to soothe our issues with them." She doesn't look at Kostos for this, studiously examining her nails instead. Because he's sure to love the idea of sending a singing skull to Nevarra.

Maybe he has a spare.

But no, this is serious. They are having a serious discussion about serious things, their relationship with Antiva is on the line, here. And possibly more, if what Val says is true. It's a fair point--what if others expect them to begin sending heads every time they fuck it up? How long before the people under her begin getting worried that it'll be them, next?

"I'm not sure they'd appreciate a statue of Vintner's head. That seems...A bit over the top. And I suppose a statue of the deceased would not be considered tasteful." She tilts her head, running her thumb over one nail thoughtfully. "What about Andraste? Humans like Andraste, don't they?" A small pause, and she glances up to look from the human mage to the human ex-noble. "...Or, Antivan noble humans, I suppose. Did anyone from the assassination attempt we foiled get a good view of Vintner?" She directs this question to Kostos. "If we did send just some random head, it'd be rather awkward if they realized it wasn't the one they were actually mad at."

[exequy]

"All elves look the same," Kostos says, chin tipped up in challenge.

He isn't smiling, but there's a tiny amount of good humor there. It's a joke.