Whoops. (semi-open)

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Beleth and Nerva, then anyone who wants to scold Beleth. This is only open to current CR.
WHAT: Beleth got caught spying, but ran for it. Nerva finds her anyway and sticks her with stables work. After that, Beleth is available for people to scold.
WHEN: Backdated to after Templar meeting but before First Day party
WHERE: Skyhold battlements, and the stables.
NOTES: This is rly late and I suck.

Comments

[arlathvhen]

She's going to die. Oh, Creators give her strength, she's going to be executed, in front of all of Skyhold. Everyone is going to be so ashamed of her, they're going to tell her mother that she was awful and a spy and she was killed for being an awful spy. Beleth's imagination runs wild, the tales of Templars told to bad Dalish children mixing with very real memories of the cruelties of humans.

She thinks that it's entirely understandable, then, when she bursts into tears.

She's still struggling, wiggling around like a slippery eel, but Nerva's grip is firm. "P-Please! Please let me go, I-I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry." There was desperation in her tone as she sobbed, voice starting to rise. There were two options, when you couldn't fight someone: Make them feel bad about it, or make enough of a scene that someone else would feel bad about it and help you.

[keeperofmagi]

"Are you?" She demands, disbelieving, as she drags her down the steps into the courtyard. "Or would you say anything to keep yourself from the punishment you deserve?"

There was a bit of a sneer, there, and she started walking across the courtyard - somehow not headed towards the jails, but in the opposite direction.

[arlathvhen]

Not the dungeons. That's good. Towards the barn, odd. Did the Inquisition have their executions in the barn? That was pretty gross. No--wait. Slowly, it occurs to Beleth to actually stop and think about what's happening. Nerva probably can't actually just straight up kill her in the middle of Skyhold, not without informing someone. Probably?

No, she's pretty sure that there are some kind of rules against wanton executions.

The teary shrieks quiet into very pathetic-sounding sniffles and hiccups. Now that panic is subsiding, she can dwell on appearance--dial it back, Zevran had told her. She's not sure where she's going, but there will be at least the opportunity to talk to someone before anyone tries getting their murder on. She'd need to leave a good (and sad) impression.

"You can't do this." She's still fighting being dragged, but it's only a token resistance, enough to satiate her wounded Dalish pride. "I don't answer to you. Any of you."