faderift | Whoops. (semi-open)

After the Templar didn't pursue her from the roof, Beleth was still on edge for a bit. She stayed away from any high-traffic areas, sticking to little corners and places that were hard to reach. After a while, she began to relax. Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she'd been too fast for Nerva to see who it was. If she had missed the tattoos, it could be any elf in Skyhold, right? Right???

It's not that she thinks that the Templars would actually hurt her. She's pretty sure they weren't allowed to do that. But fear of Templars was ingrained into her, and while she had mostly overcome the basic instinct, the idea of one coming after her was...worrying. And far more worrying, putting aside something that was basically a baseless fear, was the much more reasonable fear that she could be reprimanded by the Inquisition. But nothing happened.

She eventually slinks off to go sleep in one of the broken down rooms in the battlements, feeling a bit smug over all of it. She can think of a handful of people who will be very pleased to hear what she heard, and impressed at her dashing escape from the clutches of the Templars.

She drifts off to sleep, only to be woken with an indignant squawk by a hand grabbing for her.

Edited 2016-01-14 01:41 (UTC)

On the whole, getting stuck cleaning stables isn't the worst that could happen, and the warning of getting put in the dungeons is enough to get her to at least make the attempt. It's embarrassing, more than anything. It's not even the work, though she knows that it was given with the intention of being demeaning. And it's that, that is the problem. That she got caught, that she was given work, that she was purposely given something demeaning by a human who held no real authority over her.

It chafes her Dalish pride. But she does it anyway.

She does the wild hart's stall first, and spends a great deal of time in the stall, hanging out with the hart, grooming him and grumbling to him about how entirely unfair life is.

However, the second anyone starts coming into the stable, she grabs a pitchfork, and starts to busy herself. She was totally working, what are you talking about.

"Cloaking your shame with busy work?"

A familiar voice rings out from the other end of the stables as the wooden doors open. Standing at the threshold is none other than the "Hero of Pharos" himself dressed in full Templar regalia. His steps are heralded by the faint chattering of his armor as he approaches the she-elf with something akin to a frown upon his stoic expression.

" You certainly do far better as a stable hand rather than as a spy, Beleth." A sigh escapes him as he stops before the elf. "A lesson learned, no? You dishonored yourself by playing the role of spy." Alayre shakes his head. "And you've dishonored us Templars by forcing our hand in all this."

He takes no pleasure in knowing that Beleth has been tried and sentenced to act as a mere stable hand. The Dalish are known for their pride, so Alayre knows that this turn of events wounds Beleth metaphorically.

Merrick makes a beeline for the stables as soon as he finds out. He's relieved that Beleth hasn't been punished more grievously--because he cares for her and doesn't want her in trouble, of course, but also because he wants to admonish her himself.

Probably not for the same reasons, though.

He spots her near the hart, having moved to the stall without making a single sound, and he clears his throat loudly to get her attention.

Edited 2016-01-21 06:41 (UTC)

Sina is at the healing tents today, and from afar she can see the unusual sight of Beleth doing... stable work? When it makes sense to take a break, she grabs her lunch and carries it over to the barn, where she leans on the half-wall of a stall and peers over at her fellow Dalish.
"Beleth?" she says amiably, "what are you doing?"

As Alayre spoke, Beleth looked utterly intent on trying to shuffle hay around with a pitchfork, staring down at the ground. If Alayre was feeling particularly perceptive, he might notice that her hands trembled slightly as they gripped the tool. While it was reasonable for someone to think that shame or sadness was striking her, the truth of the matter was that she was doing her very best to exercise enough control not to swing around and lash out at Alayre. Anger pounded in her ears, but she was already on thin ice. She remembered the threat that Nerva made, of the dungeons if she wasn't careful.

The idea of being imprisoned made her skin crawl.

It was enough to keep her mouth shut until she could speak calmly.

"People who have nothing to hide do not mind prying eyes. Templars have been both present and vocal to all of the meetings of the Mage Council." She slowly turned to look at him, expression as serious as the grave, eyes intense as she stared him in the eye.

"What are you hiding, if you're so fearful of someone listening?"

The fact that she was being trained specifically to take the role of spy was left unmentioned. She doubted someone as honorable as Alayre would understand. Spywork was dirty, and underhanded. His opposite, in other words.

Beleth's demeanor does win a curious glance from Alayre but her question strikes him like a punch straight to the jaw. What does he have to...hide? He cannot help but blink his eyes owlishly at the accusation. "I--no, we have nothing to hide!" Alayre states loudly with a hint of surprise in his tone. "There's nothing happening behind those closes doors, nothing. We--" In the middle of his reply Alayre trails off suddenly once the elf's previous comment comes to haunt him.

The Mage Council have been forthright in their decision making process despite what others may claim. Though the Templars didn't have much say, at least members of the Order were allowed to attend. That is what made that meeting more of a success. They, the Mages, actually allowed for them to participate. The realization dawns upon him far too late to recognize their error in this. It's far too late to correct this injustice.

"No wonder they hate us." He mutters to himself. "We still hold the authority to do as we please even when claiming to desire a unified Skyhold. We lord that privilege over their heads like a mock badge and then cry foul when called out." Alayre's expression is a mixture of shame and weariness.

"A hypocrite, I am."

Edited 2016-01-23 04:56 (UTC)

Now it's Beleth's turn to be taken by surprise, and her face shows it. He just--admitted he was wrong? He listened to her and not just heard her, but thought about what she had to say and acknowledged that a mistake had been made.

What kind of Templar was he?

She's so taken aback that her first instinct was to apologize to him. It took a moment for her to tell herself no, she had been right. The Templar Order couldn't have secret meetings if they wanted to assure people that they didn't have any malicious motivations. But Alayre's admission has taken all of the wind from her sails, and she can't draw up the righteous fury to continue getting after him about it. What was the point, anyway? Get him to feel worse?

It takes her a few moments to say anything, and she tosses the pitchfork aside while she thinks, stepping out of the stall.

"I think that a lot of the stuff that's happening right now is new for everyone." She said quietly, giving a little shrug. "You're reforming an entire Order. There will be mistakes. At least your meeting wasn't the shouting match that the first Mage meeting was." She rubs the back of her neck, now feeling a twinge guilty for throwing the mages under the bus. Well, they'd figured that out, at least.

"Just, um. Just remember this for the future." Wow, she was really putting on the heat. But it was really hard to be mean to Alayre. "Everything is a work in progress, right?"

Upon this newfound thought, grief overtakes Alayre. How could he be so blind? Surely had he realized sooner that he could've swayed Norrington's mind and made the meeting public. Despite how much they talked in circles around each other, it would've brought the Mage Council some comfort to hear them talking. It probably would've eased some of the wounds that still plagued Skyhold.

"Men are truly not gifted with foresight or wisdom of any kind." The Templar laments. "I swear it, Beleth. This slight will not happen again. It will not and cannot." He turns to the elf once she steps out of the stall. A sad chuckle leaves him when Beleth lightly scolds him. She is quite gentle with this fool of a Templar and it shows.

"Beleth, you are exceedingly kind to this old fool before you. Too kind to suffer such indignation here." He gestures to the stables. "With this in mind, I, Chairman of the New Order, release you from such embarrassment. You are no stable hand but an ally to the Inquisition." Alayre apologizes with a slight bow.

She jumps, nearly falling off the stall she'd been sitting on when she hears a sudden noise. Turning around, she's first surprised to see Merrick quite suddenly there, and relieved. No one that would be telling her to get back to work, at least. She slid off the stall and turned to him, rubbing her forehead.

She wasn't surprised that Merrick had found out--she'd been making enough of a scene, and plenty of people knew that they were clanmates. Though her relaxed stance and the casual way she spoke made it obvious she wasn't expecting any reprimands from the other Dalish.

"Hello, Merrick. You scared me for a second there, I thought that you were that terrible woman." She makes a face. "Can you believe it, Merrick? Right out of my bed and everything. Scared me half to death, didn't even tell me where she was taking me. Creators, I think she took a year off my life."

Beleth starts, just a bit, when she hears her name. She can't help it, she's just that much more twitchy right now. And she was pretty twitchy to begin with. But when she turns around, she relaxes at the sight of Sina. Thank the Creators, if it was anyone else here to yell she might just have stolen the hart and rode off to her clan. At least her brother wouldn't nag her.

As it stands, the wild escape plan is put on hold, as Beleth holds up a hand in greeting, leaning heavily against one of the stalls.

"I'm, uh. Being punished. By the Templars, I guess." She sighed, rubbing the side of her face. Sina, she figured, it was safe enough to tell. "I, ah. Eavesdropped on their super secret meeting. I don't really know what they expected, honestly."

Beleth's flinch of surprise stirs something in Sina and she purses her lips in a frown, which only deepens when the other elf explains. "What."
She digs in her bag for the lunch she's made for herself, and pulls out a piece of bread with an herbal spread that she hands over the half-wall to Beleth. She keeps one for herself and bites into it, brow furrowed. "They don't have the right," she says, her words a bit muffled from chewing, "you don't answer to them."

Nerva had spent a good portion of the day looking for Beleth - or rather, looking for elves in general and then confirming they weren't the one she wanted. But when she finally did step into this particular room, she recognized the elf instantly and smirked smugly to herself to find her asleep.

Good.

She grabbed Beleth's collar and dragged the elf upright while she squawked.

"Well, well. Look what I found."

"That's what women are for." She muttered, more to herself than Alayre. She's slightly irked by his attempt to smooth things over by 'releasing' her from her work. Nerva had no right to assign it to her, and Alayre had no right to revoke it. Neither of them had any control over her, save what she gave them out of fear of reprisal. But she recognizes Alayre's attempt to aid her as the kind gesture that he had intended, and she smiles, bobbing her head.

"This humble ally thanks the Chairman of the New Order. That's quite the impressive title. Does it replace being Knight-Commander? Ser Alayre Sauveterre, Chairman of the New Order. Or Knight-Commander Alayre Sauveterre, Chairman of the New Order." Her smile is slightly mischievous as she tests out the variations of Alayre's new title.

"And you're not that much of a fool. Nor are you that old." She reached out to Alayre, hesitating for a moment, before gently resting her hand on his arm. "Can't teach an old dog new tricks, and here you are, learning and improving."

"Ser Alayre Sauveterre, Chairman of the New Order." Out of all the fancy titles, he chose long ago to drop the Knight-Commander part. For too long, he's been playing to the old ideologies of the Order despite how corrupt they are. He realized that shortly after becoming Chairman. While he still sometimes refers and thinks of himself as a Knight-Commander, Alayre is still taking strides to correct this line of thinking.

"I don't want my name to instill the same sort of dread that the title of 'Knight-Commander' causes." He admits with a slight sigh. "If I cling to such a thing in my pursuit of change, then how will change ever come if I'm honoring the ideals of the past? Again, hypocritical."

It's truly amazing that some of his age and stature welcomes such change. Usually older Templars like him are less likely to be reasoned with in such ways. Alayre is something of an oddity here at Skyhold and he's become increasingly aware of it. That's why he cannot fault those who show mistrust towards him. He understands.

Beleth should feel proud for winning a smile from Alayre for her compliment. He chuckles a little. "You're comparing a former Knight-Commander to that of an old dog after claiming I'm not old? My, what a contradiction." His smile widens more as he gently pats Beleth's hand.

"Oh, I tease. I know you mean well and I accept your words. It's sometimes...difficult even for me to accept change but I know I must."

Beleth accepts the piece of bread, breaking it off into pieces before popping it in her mouth. She scowls when Sina says what Beleth has been thinking--Not a scowl aimed at Sina, but because the other Dalish is right, and there's not really anything Beleth can do about it. She just accepted the work with minimal arguments. Some Dalish she was.

"I know that. You know that. But that horrid woman told me that I was lucky I wasn't getting imprisoned. I was afraid that she was going to tell the Inquisition and that they would--Can they do that?" She realizes that Sina probably doesn't know any better than her, and just sighs, moving out of the stall she'd been lazily picking at. "The idea of being in a cell--At least I can leave the stall." Dalish weren't meant to be locked up in confined spaces. The idea of being locked away in a small stone cell...It was awful.

"I guess that's the way of things outside the clan, isn't it? Templars haven't gotten the right, but they do it anyway."

Sina's eyes widen when Beleth looks at her, and she shrugs helplessly. She doesn't know either.
Still leaning against the stall, she takes another bite and watches Beleth come around to join her. "If you were a mage, I'd bring it to the council," she muses, "...if the Templars have the authority to put people in cells, there's a larger imbalance than I thought."

"A very fancy title." She repeated, nodding. It wasn't quite as fancy as having Knight-Commander shoved in front of it, but in her opinion, it flowed a little more smoothly. "But I think you're right. Putting aside old titles will probably make people feel more assured that you're truly changing the Order. Shall I start exclusively referring to you by that title, then?"

She gives him a mock frown when he teases her, and she puffs out her cheeks, folding her arms. "You weren't listening to me at all. I said that you weren't old, because you did learn new tricks. Unlike the old dog--Ugh. It made sense, you just weren't listening. You'll need to work on that, if you want to be a good Chairman." Not that she's exactly sure what a Chairman does, aside from...listening to people complain, from what she understood from the meeting.

"Well, I can't complain too much about change. I don't think I've been adapting very well, either." She shrugged a little, forcing her tone to stay light and casual as she turned to the Wild Hart she'd been taking care of, reaching to pet his neck. "Look at how my other clanmates have taken to living with humans. They certainly don't get dragged out of their beds by outraged Templars." For better or for worse, she thinks.

Beleth may be mostly asleep still, but that is quickly changing, and the face strikes into her consciousness, as she's been worrying over it for the entire day. Creators help her, it was the Templar woman that had seen her. She had her. Fear pierces her heart, the fogginess in her mind only assuming the worst. She's going to die or worse.

Beleth immediately begins flailing, like a cat when presented with a bath. She's too short for any limbs to be a danger to Nerva, but she's doing her best to try to wrest loose of the iron grip the woman had on her. The noise she makes isn't too much further from a captured cat.

"What--Let me go! Let me go!" She doesn't yell it as much as shriek it.

"If I were a mage," Beleth repeats, and it takes effort for that not to sound bitter. "But I'm not a mage, eh. Story of my life." She sighed, leaning back and letting her head thunk solidly against one of the stable beams. She takes another few bites of the bread, putting aside old wounds to focus on brand new ones. Whee.

"I'm not sure she had authority in the first place. I think that was my saving grace. If you count her dragging me here as a saving grace." She does let bitterness sink in with that statement, and she opens her eyes, studying the ceiling. "But I think if she could get away with it, she'd have thrown me in the dungeon. And I really didn't want to make her feel particularly inspired to try getting away with it."

She looks down at Sina suddenly, scowling. "This is such crap, Sina! I spend my whole life terrified of Templars, and when I get here, I see them holding secret meetings and they drag me out of my bed, and I'm the one who's wrong. I'm so tired of everyone trying to make me have an open mind, like, if the Templars could've gotten away with it, my mind would've been real open, all splatted on the ground while they dragged my brother away!" She isn't trying to lash out at Sina, honestly, but she's so tired of everyone acting like she's the crazy one for her distrust.

Sina is happy to lend a sympathetic and equally-incredulous ear, though she steps back in wide-eyed surprise when Beleth suddenly raises her voice. Despite Beleth's tone and Sina's initial surprise, as the rant concludes, Sina provides only further agreement. She finishes eating and steps forward to sit on the ground beside the other elf, apparently deciding this is a sitting conversation.

"I'm amazed they've let us go on for as long as we have, based on what I know," she says quietly, thoughtfully. "I find it difficult to believe they believe we'll regard them with anything but distrust, but I'm not sure they're in the habit of thinking about what other people want." She draws up her knees and wraps her arms around them, resting her chin atop one. "I wonder, too, what my life would be like if the Chantry had its way. I'm glad my clan was able to evade them, and I have no intention of changing that."

"I could tell you what I've learned about the Circles, but it hardly matters at this point." Beleth is glad to sink down to the ground, sighing as she folds her legs underneath her. "You would have been trapped in a stone tower, and never felt grass, or the wind, or rain. And if they thought you were too weak or too strong, they would have made you Tranquil."

She wants to yell, and she wants to shout, and she wants to keep shouting until she feels like she's been heard. She wants people to stop treating her like she's the oddball here, like she's the one who should feel bad for being wary, for not forgetting what the shemlen have already done. But it would do no good--really, it could only do more harm, because she can feel that knot in her throat, and she knows if she starts yelling, all that built up bitterness will work herself up into something she might not be able to control.

So, she closes her eyes, finishing her own bread as she regains control of herself. It's hard, when she's worked herself up already, but when she speaks, she's significantly calmer.

"There's a boy here. His name is Salem, from Clan Ghilan. Some of his clanmates went missing, and he tracked them to Haven, then headed here. He's staying to see if he can find anything out, and if he can't--" She opened her eyes, turning to look at Sina. "--He wants me to leave with him. Just up and leave Skyhold, and go with him to find his clanmates. I keep thinking...maybe I'll do it. Maybe I'll just leave with him." It's not something that she's told...well, anyone, and she's not sure why she feels like Sina is the one that needs to know. Maybe because Sina is Dalish, but not Ashara. She understands, but she isn't a part of the clan she'll be inevitable disappointing.

Edited 2016-01-27 07:52 (UTC)

"Tranquil," Sina repeats in a whisper, angling her head so that her mouth presses against her knee, her eyes looking worriedly away. She knows the word and she's heard it before in relation to mages, but still isn't quite certain what it fully means. Whatever it is, the way people say it, it's terrifying.

She looks uneasily out at the courtyard while Beleth does her own thinking, then shifts her eyes back to the other elf when she speaks up again. "...would you come back?" Sina asks, sounding a bit worried. If nothing else, she worries about Dalish traveling on their own, since her and Nari's trip here was so stressful. "Either way, it sounds like a worthy cause. If members of his clan are missing, he should do what he can to find them."

"Both the mages and the Templars are arguing about what to do with them. They treat them like pets that need to be cared for." Beleth didn't know what Tranquil were, when she'd first come to Skyhold. But after listening to enough meetings, and actually asking one or two, she'd figured it out. To her great horror. "It's when they cut you off from the Fade. Cut your soul." She speaks quietly, almost whispering. "It was done if they thought you wouldn't be able to resist possession, or do blood magic. But it sounded like the lines got sketchy towards the end." She pulled her knees up to her chest, staring down. "Have you spoken to those people who dress like mages but aren't? They don't. Feel. They don't emote." She paused, and mumbled something even quieter.

"Wonder if they can do it to nonmages."

Then she looks up, blinking at Sina's question. It was a good question, really. She hadn't thought about it. "I guess it depends...I don't think I'd be missed too much. Maybe for a week or two, but once everyone got used to it, they'd move on. I guess it depends on what Salem would do. Maybe I'd ask to stay in his clan. Clan Ghilan stays away from humans, it'd be a nice break."

Sina's face goes pale at the description, her eyes growing larger and her now-frowning mouth pressing firmly into her knee. This is easily one of the most disturbing things she's ever heard, and it takes her away for several moments, even while Beleth speaks.

She eventually returns to herself and looks back at Beleth, blinking apologetically-- she's probably missed something. "I would miss you," she says automatically. Never mind that they barely know each other; next to Nari, Clan Ashara is the closest thing Sina has to kin while she's here at Skyhold, and she would be sorry to see any of them go.

It's rude to say 'You'd get over it.' so Beleth doesn't. Instead, she just stops talking about it. Sina seemed distracted enough by talking of the Tranquil, anyway, and that would be a better topic. Focusing her anger on a set people, rather than just talking about running away. Pretending that would actually be a thing she could do.

"It's...pretty messed up, isn't it? The Tranquil. It's why the new Templar order can't be like the old one. That kind of stuff can't happen anymore." She presses her lips into a thin line, fidgeting with her scarf. "I won't let it happen. If they try to, I'll--" She pauses, frowning. What can she do? Try to kill the entire Templar presence at Skyhold? That's a bit extreme.

"I'll make sure everyone knows."

"I'll deal with her," Merrick says darkly, then sighs.

"You didn't hear or see me coming," he tells her, sounding irritated. "That's how you spy, Bell. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Just don't kill her, or the other Templars will get twitchy." Beleth said airily, probably as a joke. "But if you do, tell me, and I'll hide the body." Maybe as a joke. Who knows. She's about to lean over to him, when he directs that irritation at her, and she freezes.

Merrick was mad at her.

She withdraws, eyes turned down, and gives a stubborn shrug. "I was thinking I could do it. They didn't see me or anything, and they didn't hear me for most of the meeting, either. It was just..." She didn't want to say that she had been revealed when she started scoffing because they were being really dumb. "...It was just an accident."

It's difficult to not simply continue being disturbed by the notion, especially as Beleth keeps discussing it. Sina anxiously tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, watching Beleth attentively.

"They don't have that authority anymore," she says, reassuring herself as much as anything, "...just as they don't have the authority to punish you."

A smirk settles upon his lips. "You may." He says in reference to his new title. Of course he's going to miss being referred to as 'Knight-Commander' but Alayre will get over it. He isn't overly invested in the title like Norrington. He's content with these recent developments, very content actually. He honestly feels as if he achieved something far greater than needless grandeur. Therefore, Alayre embraces his role as Chairman. Now if only he understood the ridiculous work load that comes with this promotion.

"Here's hoping not everyone will be speaking in silly metaphors when I start." He says with a slight chuckle. "Although, I truly do appreciate the sentiments, Beleth. I sincerely hope to bring much needed change to Thedas in the future but first, I have a war to win." Alayre explains somewhat somberly. There's much he needs to do here at Skyhold before branching out to other endeavors.

"Goodness, we did that? Ah, yes. I cannot say I ever understood why the Templars harassed the Dalish Clans in such ways." He shakes his head in disgust. "That always seemed a tad barbaric even if the Maker supposedly willed it."

Beleth picks on on the fact that their conversation topic may not be preferable to the other Dalish, and can't blame her for finding it upsetting. She reaches over, a hand gently resting on Sina's shoulder. "They won't do it ever again, Sina. Even if they wanted to, no one will let them. Those days are over." She's not sure if that's true, but she says it as convincingly as she can, but it should be true.

"We can talk about something else, if you want. Or not talk. I'm stuck here for the next few hours, so..." Shrug. "I don't care. I just have to stop and look like I'm working when the Templars get close."

Sina snaps out of it when Beleth touches her shoulder, and looks at her thoughtfully for a moment before shaking her head. "You don't have to do anything," she points out quietly, "they're not your masters. You don't take orders from them." Sina's expression is serious, almost grim. The idea of a Dalish under the thumb of the local Templars does not sit well with her.

"I know I don't have to," Beleth replied, shrugging. She pauses, then her eyes dart around the barn, making sure that no one else is around to overhear them. Satisfied, she turns back to Sina. "That's not the point. What Nerva did, it wasn't right. But if I skip out or tell her to get lost, right now? I'd be escalating the situation." She tapped her fingers on her leg as she tried to figure out exactly how to voice the complicated power struggle that she was participating in.

"But if I do this, and I stay quiet, then who looks worse? Me or Nerva? When this is over, I'll talk to people, and they will talk to people. Including the other Templars, the people that Nerva reports to. Then they are the ones who tell her off." Beleth spreads her hands out. "Now I am the innocent Dalish, bullied by the Templar Order, and she's a loose canon. And Nerva can't get at me about it. Sometimes, you have to lose a battle so you can win the war. When I was in my clan, I did a lot of trading with the humans. They'd try to give me bad deals. Sometimes, I would take the bad deals, so they felt like they'd won. They'd be so caught up in being smug that they wouldn't realize that I was giving them even worse deals. It's a similar concept."

Beleth may have a point, but that doesn't make Sina any happier about it. She rests her chin on her knees again, listening sourly as the older elf says her piece. Her expression begins to change, however, when Beleth tells her about fleecing people in trades. It's not that Sina would condone that sort of behavior here, but she understands the point being illustrated.

"...that makes sense," she agrees, thoughtfully casting her eyes downward. "It's... brave of you."

"Quiet!" Nerva snaps as she drags her toward the door. The heavy armour prevents any of Beleth's flailing strikes to actually land with any force.

"Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you are in?" She hisses under her breath, steel against the shrieks. "Do you know what happens to spies?"

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.

"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.

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."

Beleth looked up at Sina at the mention of bravery, eyes wide and confused. Brave? She didn't feel particularly brave. But slinging off someone's compliments is pretty dang rude, so she just gives a shrug, glancing away. "Thank you. I never really thought of it as being brave...? I thought it was just--safer, I suppose, to not directly confront them. But I guess it was better than nothing. It made me feel better, at least."

She turns back to Sina, giving her a smile. "I think things will work out, though. At least in regards to this. And I got some good information for the mage council."

Sina mirrors her smile, a bit apologetically, since she can see that Beleth wasn't entirely comfortable with the compliment. Still, they've come to a good place in the conversation. "May the Dread Wolf never catch your scent," she says quietly, with an air of wry conspiracy.

Whoops. (semi-open)

For Nerva

Afterwards

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Fairly sure I the one who sucketh the most

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