[closed] a cordial meeting

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Beleth and Loki
WHAT: Beleth & Loki have a friendly chat over tea about blackmail and conspiracies
WHEN: The day after Beleth’s network post
WHERE: House Asgard’s estate in Kirkwall
NOTES: none for now

Perhaps it was foolishly risky, accepting Loki’s invitation, and entering the estate without any backup, save the possible presence of a single servant. But Beleth doubted that she’d want anyone else to overhear what they had to discuss, and she was relying on Loki being loathe to do anything, with those damning pieces of evidence somewhere out there.

Hopefully, at least. Besides, it’s not like she’ll ever get anywhere not taking risks, and she’s certainly not going to just sit on what she’s found out for the rest of her life.

So she shows up at the appointed place and time, carefully dressed and styled in a manner appropriate for a high class Orlesian tea. As much as a Dalish can be, anyway. At least if she dies, she’ll be dressed for a funeral.

It’s with that cheery thought that she crosses the threshold to House Asgard, nodding briefly to whatever servant (Slave? Let’s go with servant) came to greet her at the door. Here it goes.

Comments

[hwaaaitsme]

House Asgard's Kirkwall estate was fairly similar to how it had been when Beleth had last been inside of it, save perhaps that all the expensive renovations were now complete. Where there had been some mash of styles, previously, now it was a testament to Tevinter architecture, overwrought golden accents, and true and utter opulence.

The servant who greets Beleth is, of course, elven and is clad in a uniform that carries a tasteful echo of the Sigil of House Asgard. She leads Beleth upstairs, an alarming propisition that was certainly Loki's suggestion, and into Loki's wing. It isn't long before they arrive at his drawing room, several doors down from his Valet's chambers. The maid allows her in, spending only a moment in the threshold of the massive room, before dismissing herself.

Loki's personal drawing room is more muted than one might expect from someone so ostentatious. The floors are hardwood, original to the house, the windows are plain glass rather than stained or serault, but the furnishings are all a pitch dark wood with silver gilding and hardware. The walls are lined with rows upon rows of bookshelves and tomes, and there is an orrery in the corner that is the size of a small bear.

Loki is seated on one of two low couches, his feet propped up and a book in hand, looking all the world like a man awaiting a friend. The table between the couches has an array of fine porcelain dishes all bearing painfully beautiful finger-foods, plated exquisitely. Several of them appear to have shaved gold as decoration.

"Ah, Scoutmaster Ashara, right on time," Loki congratulates without looking up from his book. He is, as usual, clad in elegant black and green. He fits into the room like a fixture of it, he could blend into the curtains if he wanted to and managed to stand still enough.

"Tea will be brought in shortly by my Valet," Loki informs her and finally glances up, "You haven't met him, I don't think, but you did do significant damage to his room last time you were here."