faderift | In the darkness I will meet my Creators

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In the darkness I will meet my Creators

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.

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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."

"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?"

"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.

"But you have kissed." Settimo knew better than to lie to him about such things- less out of trust and more out of bone deep terror for being parted from the rest of his flock. A part of him is loathe to have this conversation- the rest knows full well that leaving this be? Will end poorly for both of them. Beleth will be happily led along and Settimo won't think twice of it, assuming Beleth knows her own mind well enough to be able to avoid such manipulations.

A mess none of them need.

"He said you knew what you were about. I had to remind him of the rule that they are not to attempt to seduce or charm anyone into their beds or their way into anyone else's until they understand what it is to not be among the Crows. I think, perhaps, I ought to explain to you what it is to be among them so you understand what you were playing into unknowingly."

"Ah. Well. Yes." That blush certainly wasn't improving, and Beleth glances away from Zevran, nervously fiddling with the lute. "It's just--Well, I mean, I don't want to bed him, Zevran. Not that there's anything wrong with him, I just--" Briefly, she wonders if she prays hard enough, perhaps another rift will open up, right under her, and she can escape this conversation.

Alas, neither Creators nor Maker are that merciful.

"It's just playing around. Kissing and things like that. It's nothing serious." Beleth? Get emotionally attached to someone giving her the attention and affection she craved? That's just nonsense. "I mean--People do that. Just. Flirt and kiss and not mean anything. And they don't take the other person to bed." She paused, finally glancing up to Zevran.

"...I know he really isn't that interested in me, if that's what you're going to tell me. It's okay. I just--like pretending, for a little bit."

"He is not pretending, he is attempting to pay for his life with affection and feels you an appropriate merchant for that coin. They have tried and failed much the same with me already, hence the rule. Were it mere playful teasing and friendly kissing? We would not be having this conversation. But it is not so simple as that, Beleth." For a Crow? It never would be. Unlearning this is just as vital as unlearning that they were worth noting.

Teaching that is...difficult, but he is managing. Day by day. Explaining it may help him all the more even if he does not quite enjoy it.

"What would you say the worth of a life is? Most would argue it to be priceless or impossible to put a value to. Every Crow, knows precisely how much they are worth. They paid three sovereigns for me. Settimo? Two and ten silver. You learn this when you are young, in the Crows, so you know what you owe them. It does things to a person to know how much coin they are worth, Beleth. Then to be told in their training they are worth even less than that? That they are expendable? He is desperate to remain, to have this chance at freedom. He knows he cannot find my favor in such a way as I know the game and am trying to discourage it. By finding yours he can, perhaps, cement his place here as you have my favor. Vita has tried much the same with Alistair." It is adorable and more than a little mortifying for the Warden.

Beleth silently thinks, ungraciously, that the Inquisition has already told her what her life is worth to them. But the comparison is unfair, and she knows it. Moreover, she's not the subject of this discussion, and she doesn't want it to turn to her. This is about Settimo--about all of Zevran's new students.

She blanches as Zevran continues on, though a voice in the back of her mind tells her that she shouldn't be surprised. That the only reason somebody would show interest in her was because they needed her for something. That they thought that they had to, in order to survive. And she's not sure if that's worse, or the idea that Zevran thought she was complicit in it. At least, she reasons, if he thought that she was knowingly doing it, this conversation would be much different. But with that out there, she decides that the best thing to do is to lay down the full truth of the matter. For better or worse.

She glances away again, fidgeting with the lute--not as much playing it as just messing with it, letting her fingers have something to do. "I--Um. I figured out that's what he was trying, when we were on the way back to Skyhold. I'd been, um. Unhappy to have them there. I figure he was trying to make sure that I didn't find a way to murder them before they got to Skyhold." Which wasn't an unfair worry, honestly. "But--Realizing what he was doing? Why he was doing it? I guess it helped really...sink in, what kind of life they led. That's what made me stop being angry, more than any attempts to hook up with me." The full truth was that his flirtations had, in the end, benefited him--after all, the only reason she came to her conclusion was because his attention had lowered her guard enough to let her speak to him. But. No need to be that truthful.

"And I told him that I'd help them, that he didn't owe me anything. That he didn't need to do anything." She paused for a moment, strumming the lute thoughtfully. "I told him he could braid my hair, if he really needed to do something. But I wasn't being serious." Was that where she'd gone wrong? Did hair braiding lead to this situation? Creators give her strength. "But then he was still doing it when we got to Skyhold, so I thought...I mean. I know he's not really interested in me. That isn't a surprise." He was gorgeous and charming, and she was. Her. "But I thought..."

She trails off, and shrugs. It doesn't really matter, at this point. "I'm sorry, Zevran. I'll stop, um. The kissing. And whatnot."

"The hair braiding- the being friendly with no expectation and no demands? That was wise of you, Beleth. That is...that is what helped me when I was like him, new to freedom, new to choice. Offering him that choice was well done of you." And for that? He is proud, reaching out to stroke her hair away from her face. Little gestures, small signs of affection sincerely meant- they did more for Beleth than merely the words. But on occasion? The words helped just as much. "I am proud of you for recognizing it for what it is- and for attempting to work around his compulsions in a way that is kind to you both."

She has good instincts on occasion; things that will come of use. Things that will save her pain in the future. And some? Some are a blade turned inward. The last of what she has to say is proof enough of that. This is where he tugs the lute free with a gentle hand and pulls her close, tucking Beleth up along his side with an arm around her shoulders.

"It is the only way he knows how to express affection. We do not have it without the expectation of sex, of kissing, of lust and debt somewhere in the mess. One day he will see your kindness for what it is and thank you for it. Braid his hair in return. Treat him kindly. Treat him as a friend. He needs that more than a romantic interlude. He does not know how to handle such sentiment and you deserve someone that would treat you with the affection and honesty you deserve. For you do deserve it."

He's right, of course. Beleth soaks in the gestures and affection like a sponge, looking quietly pleased as he tells her that she did a good job. It lessens the blow of Zevran's revelation to her, that she had managed to not only avoid fucking things up, but picked a good route to go about not fucking it up. She leans against him as she's drawn next to Zevran, nodding.

"I can do that. I can be his friend." Beleth was good at that. It was easier to be friendly than it was to try to be...seductive, or anything of that nature. And it would be better for both of them, in the long run. She nods again. "I understand--Well. I guess I'll never really...understand. But you know what I mean. I'll be friendly with him."

She pauses for a moment, and then glances at Zevran, reaching to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "You know that you're my friend too, right? I think you're one of my best friends. I hope that doesn't sound weird..." She is pretty sure that she doesn't need to tell Zevran that he owes her anything--if anything, she owed him. He was a great boon to her, giving his aid and comfort and asking for little in return. "I can braid your hair, too, if you want."

"You have the shape of it, like a stone in your hand where the details are worn thin. You feel the cracks even though you are not the one that struck it." More poetic in his native Antivan, but it works well enough in Common. She knows how it roughly is and that is more than most attempt to grasp. That she grasps and holds and does not yield to the bite? Is kinder of her than what she expects of herself.

One day she might even see that.

"Best friend is- we have many words for Friend in Antiva. It does not come as so large and vague a term as it does in the South- so it always sounds 'weird' to me when someone calls me friend. What manner of friend? A friend for drinking, a friend for kissing, a friend for fucking, a friend for teasing?" He turns enough to drop a kiss to her forehead. "But I know now what it is you mean, yes? And it is not so strange a thing."

In response to the offer- he says nothing. Simply reaches back to tug his hair loose of the casual braid he'd looped it in and shake it out, turning to offer the golden mass to her. "Go ahead."

"That sounds pretty." Beleth comments, turning the sentence over in her mind a few times, until she thinks that she understands it. You see a stone, and you can feel the scars on it. And you can understand that the scars are there, and you can understand that the stone was hurt, even if you weren't there. "And sad, I think. But thank you, Zevran."

She cheers up a little when he continues to praise her, smiling softly when she gets the kiss on the forehead. She closes her eyes as she receives it, thinking on his words. "I envy Antivan, then. I wish I had more words for friend, because you're right. I have a lot of different friends. You're not a friend in the same way that, ah, Samouel is, for instance, but I still like you both."

At the invitation to braid his hair, the smile only grows, expanding into an enthusiastic grin. She loved playing with hair, okay? Don't judge. She needs no further invitation, and reaches up. Nimble archer's fingers start to weave neat and tight little rows of braids in his hair.

"I heard that Seeker Cassandra is on a war path with the rifters. It's a little odd, isn't it?" What better braiding activity is there than idle gossip? "I'm glad that I'm not in her line of fire. I heard that she fought off five dragons by herself! I'd hate to have someone like that glaring at me."

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In the darkness I will meet my Creators

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