In the darkness I will meet my Creators

[arlathvhen]

WHO: Bardlings and Leliana, Beleth and YOU.
WHAT: Beleth and Araceli meet their bard teacher and have a jam session on the roof, then Beleth can be found practicing elsewhere.
WHEN: Beginning of Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold roof, then the barn
NOTES: Discussions of violence at some point probably.

Bard lessons

Beleth doesn't consider herself to have really met Araceli, just like you wouldn't consider yourself acquainted with someone that you have only seen in a nightmare. That is what that entire journey to and from Antiva seemed to be, as far as she was concerned. One long running nightmare, and one that Beleth was still recovering from. But still, she knows a little of the other woman, enough to be both excited and nervous about their introduction, and their lessons together. Korrin's dating her, so she can't be that bad.

But Beleth is pretty sure she'll be better than the Dalish at this, and that Beleth will spend these lessons being mitigated to second place. At least Zevran had said that she was his favorite.

Of course, now that position has been shuffled down six places, since the arrival of the young Crows. But it's not like Beleth cares or anything.

Meeting on the roof had seemed like a perfectly logical idea to Beleth. It was spacious, quiet, and they wouldn't be interrupted. It was a place of peace, one that she was happy to use for lessons. So Beleth tied the lute to her back, and scaled up the walls to the roof. Once seated, she pulled the lute out, carefully tuning it as she anxiously waited for the other two to arrival.

Open: The barn

The sounds of a lute being quietly plucked at can be heard throughout the barn, and anyone trying to find the source just needs to head upstairs. Tucked away on a block of hay, Beleth sits and in intense concentration, attempts to play. Attempting may be the key word here. The plucking is amateurish, hesitant, and often starts over from the top, repeating the same couple stanzas over and over, until the notes are no longer strung along like a child's attempt at beading.

Occasionally, she attempts to sing along, but the music falters whenever she gets distracted with the song. Usually, she only gets out a handful of words. Oh fiercest fighter-- And then gives up and goes back to the notes.

Her face is a mask of concentration, and whenever she stumbles over notes, her eyebrows knit in a scowl. But, despite that, she's actually...quite happy. Concentrating on the music, pouring out her frustrations into writing songs and putting notes to them, it made her feel better. It gave her some manner of control, and it gave her something to distract her mind. It gave her the ability to make something beautiful.

--Or something that will be beautiful, eventually, she's sure. She sighs as she mangles the timing of another handful of notes. Stupid rests.

Comments

The barn

[keeperofmagi]

Nerva had been careful to hear for news of Beleth's return. The frantic pace of Cade' attack hadn't leant itself to hesitation - and she had dragged Cade off almost immediately afterwards. But that didn't mean she wasn't concerned about the outcome of it. So when she was given word that Beleth had returned, she made her way off to find her --

Only to frown as she heard the cautious plucking at a lute, and a hesitant near-whispered song along with it. She made her way up the stairs to look - and found the elf tucked into a corner sitting on hay.

"Were you badly hurt?" She says, jumping straight to the point with no needless things like 'Hello' or 'I did not know you played the lute'. Though both, perhaps, could be inferred from her tone.

[arlathvhen]

How telling the attack had effected her laid less in her ordinary demeanor, and more in how she reacted when she was surprised, when she couldn't hurriedly put her mask of sweetness on. Such as: When random intimidating women appeared out of nowhere. Instantly in flight mode, she jumps back, only saved from falling off her perch when her back thumps into a tall stack of hay. For a single moment, she looks like a deer about to bolt, eyes wide and fearful.

Then the moment is over, and she slides down back onto the bale of hay she'd been sitting on, fingers wrapped white-knuckled tight around the neck of the lute. Slowly, she resumes breathing, and pulls a neutral expression on. "Oh, hello, ma'am. I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention--But. Um. I'm quite fine, as you can see." Like she hadn't just had a year shaved off her life by Nerva's sudden interruption.

She does look well, for the most part--there's a scar across the bridge of her nose, which now leans to the left a bit more than it did before, but the bruises and little cuts and scraps have been healed away.

[keeperofmagi]

She steps up far too close, seemingly completely unaware of personal boundaries, so that she can get a good look at Beleth's nose. The fact that there is a scar is sign enough - lesser injuries are easily dispersed by the healers. She scowls, but it's not for Beleth.

"He should not have been on his own," She said firmly. "I have made strict recommendations that he is to be under full supervision from now on. You have my apology that I did not make such recommendations earlier, when it was still possible to prevent an incident."

[arlathvhen]

Dread wolf's ass, Nerva. The hay backing that had kept Beleth from falling off her perch now served to keep her from being able to lean back to try to get a little more personal space when Nerva came and crushed it under her heel. She's not sure what to think about what Nerva says, and it's really hard to try when she's so close (her eyes are really pretty wow). She shifts, trying to focus, and finally manages out an absent-minded, "Ah, well, we learn from the past. I think after what the Seekers have said is going to be done, it won't happen again."

She pauses again. That didn't sound very well thought out. "But I forgive you. And I apologize as well. I brought all of this down on all of us when I started an argument I could have walked away from."

The barn

[disgracedchampion]

There were two reasons Michel visited the barn. The first had been to learn trap making from Zevran and to continue to practice it, especially given how useful it had been to him in Emprise du Lion. The second was to drag down square bales of hay for horses--the man had an affinity for the creatures, preferring a softer more legumes hay over grassier more abrasive hay. That sort of hay was better suited for bedding and less so for diet in his opinion.

That was the reason he found himself up in the hayloft, he had...fond memories of this place. Memories that involved a certain elf that need not be shared. It had been a few days since they last spoke and the conversation had been so intense that it was difficult to return to him, but Maker he had an ache for his company. He shook out those thoughts and focused more on the task at hand. Usually cautious about climbing up here for obvious reasons, but when all he heard was the sharp twang of a lute he felt it was safe enough.

When his eyes fell upon the lute player in question he gave her a cursory look, nothing lingering, but a glimpse of recognition that was followed by a nod, "bonne journée."

Orlesian, Chevalier, but he was not wearing armor today, a simple tunic, breeches, and boots were fine for honest work...and armor was much too heavy for such tasks.

[arlathvhen]

Beleth started when she heard someone speak, turning with a look of surprise. But it's a face she recognizes. Not because she's ever spoken to the man, but Zevran was more than just a teacher, he was a valued friend. Which meant she had some inkling of the people he spent a lot of time around--and this one in particular had made her worry. Messing with Orlesian nobles lead to nothing but ill.

But Michel is only given a pleasant smile, and a bob of the head, when she sees him approaching. She keeps her eyes lowered, deferential and amicable.

"Ser, I apologize, I didn't realize you could hear. I'm afraid none of my songs are fit to be heard by a Chevalier such as yourself." They aren't fit to be heard by anything with ears, and at least some ability to sense tune, but she'll hold off on admitting to that. And she supposes, overall, that it's a good thing that Michel has appeared in front of her like he has. It'll be a good time to try to do a little investigating.

Which will be done strictly with the greatest of pleasantries, of course.

[disgracedchampion]

Michel raises and eyebrow as it was something of a peculiar thing to say, but he thought nothing of it beyond that. He'd come up here for hay, after all, finding a bard, was it? practicing their craft had been unexpected, but not an intrusion on his task. Certainly his own reasons for being here were not an intrusion on her own and when he did approach her it wasn't necessarily for conversation, or to make her uncomfortable for that matter, it was for another bale of legumes enriched hay that just so happened to be near her.

"I had not meant to interrupt your practice, your playing sounds fine to me..." but Michel was not a discerning man about such things, if for no other reason than his exposure to music and musicians themselves was more perfunctory and less reflective. Particularly if they were bards, he had a tricky relationship with bards.

"...The horses need feeding so I came for this," he gestured to the bale of hay near to her with its specific qualities, unaware that he was about to be engaged in a conversation regardless, "you do not mind if I take this?"

[arlathvhen]

"You flatter me." She replies demurely, keeping her eyes cast down, even as she begins to pluck at the lute again. She's under no delusions of her lack of skill--She had little in the way of natural talent for it, and she was only just beginning to practice enough to make up for it. But still, who didn't like to be complimented?

Beleth nods when he gestures to the bale of hay, quietly wondering why anyone would mind. It's not like he was after the one she was sitting on. Still, it's probably done out of politeness. "Take as many as you desire, ser, they are not mine to keep. I'm sure the horses will appreciate it."

She pauses after a moment, pondering how to continue. After some thought, she continues on. "I must admit, ser, I have never seen a Chevalier in person. I'm surprised you've come all the way to Skyhold. Do you miss your family, or did you have them come with you? All in all, it's not a bad place to bring children--I imagine few safer places in all of Orlais."

Barn

[el_tybs]

Sometimes it isn't strange to hear music in random places in Skyhold, but not being able to find the source of it was. Course that had Sam curious as to what and who was making the noise today when he went to the barn, just someplace he sometimes stopped to think.

The music - or attempts at music - were rather easy to follow and it isn't long before Sam finds himself going up the stairs and looking around the blocks of hay. At finding a familiar face he pauses, tilting his head curiously as he watches for a moment. After a few attempts he eventually walks on over, trying not to make a lot of noise as he does so.

"That sounds nice."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth starts a little, when Sam speaks suddenly, turning to look at him with surprise. She relaxes when she sees that it's just him, settling back into her spot.

"You're flattering me." She smiles when she says it, though. "It needs a lot of practice before I'm ready to debut it. Being able to play the whole thing through first would be a nice start." She doesn't sing any more, but she does keep plucking at the strings, trying to practice speaking and playing at the same time. "I want to get this ready for the soiree that Vivienne is hosting. I'm not sure if it'll be ready, though."

[el_tybs]

Sam smiles a bit wider having been able to sneak up on her though glad he hadn't startled her too much. Moving around to take a seat on a bale in front of her, he watches with interest at how her fingers dance over the strings.

"I am not. True it needs a lot of work, but what you have does rather nice. Course I can't play an instrument so what little you're doing is rather impressive to me." It's good to see Beleth trying to do something rather than just trying to hide from the rest of Skyhold. Well we kind of was, but not for the same reasons it seemed.

"I'm sure if you practice enough you can. Are you taking any lessons from someone?"

[arlathvhen]

She frowns in response to his smile, glancing away from him. Well, at least he's amused by his ability to scare a woman who's become remarkably twitchy since Emprise du Lion. Someone might as well get something positive out of it. She doesn't speak for a few moments, but she knows that she can't pout every time someone startles her. So she shrugs, and turns back to the lute.

"Sister Leliana." Attention mostly on the lute now, she focuses on trying to rehearse the notes that she'd spun together for the song. "She's been teaching me how to become a bard. It's been interesting." She says it casually, like it's no big deal that a spymaster is training her to become an entertainer that doubles as an assassin and spy. Hopefully, mostly spying. "Which is why I want to be ready for the soiree. That's the kind of thing that bards attend. I'll be practicing more than just my lute. I'll be practicing all that--the social stuff. Speaking with Orlesian nobles." She was more worried about the music. Orlesian nobles? She could handle them just fine, they were even easier to sweet talk than most of the people she spoke to.

[ombranera]

"Brava, Little Bird." Zevran applauds from the ladder, peering up. Settimo had told him of Beleth's attempts at music and her successes- his interest in the girl leaves him somewhat wary. How much he means sincerely and how much he means in jest is ever a question- as is what might come of it.

Beleth is easy to twist about if you know how to read her. Settimo? Had been trained to do so. It wouldn't take much to ruin what work he's put into giving her the space for her to stand on her own legs. But he approaches with a smile, swinging himself up to listen.

[arlathvhen]

Zevran can catch a bit more of the words of the song, just above a whisper to the music. Oh fiercest fighter, when will you see, all of the greatness--

Then Beleth hears the voice and she starts, eyes wide. Jerking around to see who it is, she calms down slightly when her visitor is just Zevran. It's been a while, but they've both had things going on. She's pretty glad that he's approached her, but the reasoning for it--She's going to assume it was just for the music. Zevran's got more than enough stuff going on in his life for her to try to bring her own mediocre issues into it.

"Thank you. I need to keep practicing it, if I'm going to be able to play it in time for the soiree." She smiles sheepishly at him, ducking her head. "I don't know if I'll be able to, but I guess we'll see. Sister Leliana has been a great help."

[ombranera]

"You will manage beautifully. If you need additional pointers or someone to practice with? I am always available." He saunters to her side, patch nestled neatly over his wounded eye. He's growing more and more accustomed to it the longer days roll on but for now? The patch.

And for now? A few pointed questions.

"Beleth- I need to ask you something you may not wish to answer." A beat. "Have you been intimate with Settimo?"

[arlathvhen]

"I wouldn't mind. I think the hard part right now is trying to get all the notes memorized and timed just right--And then, play them while I talk." She plunks away at the lute as she speaks, trying to get that divide of concentration right. "But if you have any sugg--"

Any attempts at concentration are thrown right out the window, and set on fire, and probably trampled a little, when he asks about her relationship with Settimo. She coughs breathlessly a few times, face heating up as she wheels around to face him. "You--You mean like. Like--" Vague hand waving. "--Like that? No! Creators, no. I don't--No. We haven't done anything like that." She looks vaguely unsettled--though she looks like that just about any time that the conversation involved both herself and sex. But she still can't help but flush.

Nor can she help but glance at Zevran after a moment's pause. "Did he say something to you? About me?" If Settimo was talking to Zevran about that, well--She didn't know what to think. That was. Odd.

[foxsays]

Carrying a lute on her back was fear easier than scaling walls and buildings with a fox slung over her shoulders. Not that such a sight had been witnessed yet in Skyhold with only ground to break their fall but it was the principle of the thing. No announcement preceeded her, just dark curls blowing in the wind before she pushed herself up and over the roof to set the lute down with care, tugging her hair free from where she'd tucked it in the collar of her coat.

"Beleth Ashara," she greeted, no hesitation. It had hardly been the time for introductions when rescuing Zevran but she was good at faces, and Dalish faces stood out for the Vallaslin though there was a chance the emphasis went in the wrong place for the name. Such was the problem of finding oneself in an unfamiliar world where only Antivan sounded anything like home. "Araceli Bonaventura, at your service."

I AM SO SORRY fashionably late fashionably late

[fightingale]

Ah, good. They were both there. Leliana had waited, a sly distance away. Curious to see if they were early, on time, how one might greet the other. It was cautiously done, and not lightly so, taking on students to be bards. Part of her wonders if it is still the most sensible course, if it is best for them, but they are adults, more than capable of making decisions for themselves. (Or so she hopes. They are not yet bound to her, or to this, the two of them.)

She appears a few moments after Araceli, by slightly more conventional means, though her movements are easy and apparently unhindered by the chainmail hanging from her shoulders. She has her lute with her, even, though she does no yet know if she intends to play it. It has been restrung, courtesy of a gift from Madame de Fer, yet remains unplayed. It seems folly, to consider reacquainting herself with it so publicly.

"You are both here. Good." The first thing she does is hand over a roll of parchment to each of them. "There are different books on each of these lists, though we will add to them through our lessons. Books on the history of Thedas, though I doubt I need tell either of you that history books are not to be taken at their word. Nor any book, as a general rule."

Still, she allows herself a smile - thin, barely present, but still there. "What do you both understand bards to be?"

May as well get right into it. They are none of them here to linger.

[arlathvhen]

Beleth stands when she sees Araceli approach, smiling politely. If Araceli had made any errors in pronunciation, Beleth doesn't bother to correct her. Instead, she just bobs her head to the other woman. She seems pleasant enough, and Beleth knows better than to judge anyone on their behavior on the trip to Antiva. It was...not a normal circumstance. It'll be nice to get to meet her in a more amicable environment. "It's a pleasure, Araceli. Korrin speaks very highly of you. I'm glad that we'll be learning together."

Which isn't strictly true, because having another student means competition. It means the distinct possibility that Araceli will outshine Beleth, and she'll be shuffled to the side. But that certainly didn't need to be stated.

When Leliana joins them, Beleth bobs her head to her as well, the polite smile still on her lips. She accepts the parchment, and looks over the lists. It's a good thing she already started trying to acquaint herself with the books written by the humans on history, though there's a wry twist to her smile when Leliana states that the history books are not to be taken at their word.

At Leliana's question, the elf blinks, glancing to the side for a moment as she pondered this. Finally, she spoke up. "Bards are people who use their words as weapons. For multiple kinds of battles. In balls or in the field."

[foxsays]

Though it might be a little over the top, custom demands that she sets her lute down with great care, giving a low bow to them both. She's always done that if and when she can in Thedas, she sees no reason to appear rude and well, her being a rifter is known to most, it would hardly be a surprise that some of her customs are different. At least Leliana’s appearance gives her a distraction; if Araceli has been spoken of to Beleth, the same cannot be said in reverse when Araceli’s questions are less about Korrin’s friends in the Inquisition and rather about her own life, or being a mage, being raised on the road. Something she’ll have to change or make more effort to ask about but there are times she feels she must be exhausting when so many conversations are her asking questions; surely she must have met the whole of clan Ashara by now, how many more could there possibly be?

Looking between the parchment and the other two on the roof, she nods; Beleth will have the advantage there, when Araceli is still catching up on Thedas in general, trying to pick her way through a completely different world with very different rules. But a few more hours in the library won’t hurt, more time in her day swallowed, that isn’t a bad thing at all.

“A bard is there and not there. You might be at the party but you are not truly a guest. You are what you need to be, what the Game demands of you.” The Game is like the politics of home, more vicious but only because Leandra prefers as little blood to be spilled as possible. There is a glance at Beleth, not someone she knows well enough at all to trust with a secret and she wonders at what, exactly, Korrin has said of Araceli to her. “Something like a thief and assassin but more; you put on a mask but the mask is the whole of you. You play to win because it isn’t like dicing - you lose, you lose.”

Barn

[maladgogo]

He's heard some music since he's gotten here, from the tavern in the form of the lady with her lute, raucous singing, other such happenings, admittedly it isn't the richest form of entertainment around Skyhold. He still thinks that, even when he peeks into the stables. He's been familiarizing himself with the hold, and he wants to meet the animals.

Instead of greeting the horses, the dracolisks, or the hart, he catches sight of Beleth plinking on her instrument and looking frustrated. He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, shoulder against the frame. When he heard a tune starting to come together, he hummed along quietly. He'll give her a beat if she likes, but for now, he's content just to listen to what she's laying down herself.

"Might help if you get writin' bits down," he suggests after a few moments. "Inspiration's a hard motherfucker to pin n' make somethin' of."

[arlathvhen]

She looks up when she hears humming, a small smile on her face when she recognizes the face. One of the rifters, a rather nice one overall. Though most of them seemed to be pretty pleasant...? But then, they probably understood their dependency on the Inquisition--it was certainly a position that Beleth wouldn't want to be put in.

She tries to keep playing even as she speaks, though occasionally she has to stop speaking or playing, when her attention can't quite divide evenly. That's going to be one of the hardest problems, she thinks. "I've got the words written down. And ideas for the tune--where it gets higher and lower. I know that there's a way to write down the music notes, but..." She shrugged. "I'm still learning. Mostly, I'm just playing it by ear right now. And I wrote the song, so...at least no one can tell me I'm doing it wrong. Just that it sounds bad."

She snorts a little. "I'll get to that in time, too."

Barn

[girlinthebox]

River has developed a habit of sneaking up into places she shouldn't be with alarming stealth. In fact, Beleth could be forgiven for not noticing the girl at all until she spoke, perched in the rafters above her, her legs dangling from a beam.

"You think too quickly. Trying to count the steps before they come."

Dark eyes peer down at her from under that perpetually untidy mop of hair.

[arlathvhen]

Beleth probably would have been startled by River, even if she wasn't suffering from an exacerbation of jumpiness from the incident with Cade. However, she has indeed been a lot twitchier, jumping at even regular greetings. So when a girl appears to materialize in the rafters above Beleth, she does not react to it gracefully.

She lets out a strangled squawk of alarm, clutching her lute tightly as she jumps back--luckily, just to hit the stack of hay she'd been using as a backrest. Instead of toppling over, she just stirs dust and hay down onto her head as she plops back on her stack of hay she'd settled on. It takes a few seconds of looking from left to right, searching for the source of the voice, until she finally looks up.

Well. Now she feels silly. It's just a girl.

"I apologize--you're right, though. It's a bit like trying to dance, and I'm five steps ahead of my partner. Maybe if I play slower first...?"

[girlinthebox]

River nods, peering attentively down at her efforts. She understands the mechanics of it, the math in the notes and the way it's supposed to turn, like gears, pulling forward the melody. Beleth's efforts are stuttering. Slowing might be all she needs to remember how they turn, how her fingers are meant to fall.

Meanwhile, she'll sit up here in her perch and observe, her legs swinging idly to an imaginary beat.