Beleth settles her hands on her lap, fingers crossing neatly. "To aid the Inquisition in settling the chaos in Thedas, as well as defeating Corypheus before he accomplishes...whatever his goals are. Additionally, to pursue my current career path as a bard in order to gain a better political foothold in Orlais, and represent the Dalish as relevant players in The Game."
Would you like the pamphlet or will the business card do.
Beleth furrows her brows, eyeing Pel with reservation. This certainly isn't what she thought a conversation about Alistair would lead to--or a conversation where she spilled so many personal thoughts. But then, it's probably best if they don't linger on those.
It certain;y gives her time to try to puzzle out Pel's next question. 'Become a cautionary tale to scare young Dalish' probably won't go over well. "Help the Inquisition as well, I would assume." That's fairly neutral.
Pel is starting to look neutral in a way Beleth will never have seen--almost glassy and grey, the evenness of her voice calculated to the microsecond. But she does not look angry. She does not look numb or superior. She puts on no airs. She is simply speaking to Beleth.
"You would assume?" she asks. "But you would not ask. You never have. You have spoken to me as if I left the clan without a plan. As if I went into this--the Inquisition, leaving the clan, even motherhood--without thinking it through. That my life, my child, is just a little less pathetic than it could be because 'at least it's an elf.' And at the moment you said that, you were pursuing a human."
Silence settles in the tent for a spell, as Beleth glances to the side, taking slow, measured breaths, and wondering if it would be worth it to burn this bridge. It's one of those times that she misses Sorrel more than ever, and his sharp tongue. He wouldn't hesitate.
"You have been away from the clan just as long as me, Pel, so surely it has not escaped your notice, just how half-bloods are treated, from elves and humans alike. So yes, at least it's an elf, because no one will think you're your own child's nursemaid, or realize the situation and hate the both of you for it. But by all means, if that sounds pleasant to you, go for it. And while you're at it, continue to put words in my mouth, and assume thoughts I have never had. I've never called, nor made any overtones that either you or your child were pathetic. If you've assumed that, then it is a failing on your part, and your assumptions of me. If you came here to lecture me about what a terrible person I am, because I had to gall to develop feelings for someone, and contemplate that maybe I was wrong--something that happened after you told me of your pregnancy, by the way, if you'd bothered to listen to me--then you are wasting your time. But if that is the story that you wish to tell everyone about me, I can hardly stop you."
She calmly turns back to Pel, fingers laced together on her lap. "But have the common courtesy to get out of my tent before you do."
With that, she turns her attention to examining her hands. The implication isn't particularly subtle.
"The only way to smooth out a miscommunication is to communicate, Beleth," she says, sounding slightly tried at last. "I haven't told anyone about Alistair. And I won't. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of, but since you do, no one has heard or will hear it from me. It's not mine to tell anyway.
"But I'm not going to beg for forgiveness for the implication that your behavior has raised questions. Because that is what I came to talk to you about--privately, with dignity. I don't think you were wrong to want to be with Alistair, but it doesn't matter if I do. You're a grown woman capable of deciding your own heart. But I do think shouting at Cyril in a camp in which we are visitors is inappropriate, and also a red flag. And I think that criticizing me for past human suitors while entertaining one yourself is both inappropriate and a red flag. If something is wrong, I want to listen. But I will not tell you it's all right for you to treat your friends this way."
Beleth continues studying her hands while Pel speaks, and then when Beleth replies. Her voice is still measurably calm, expression bland.
"You know what I think is a red card? Coming in here to accuse me of an attitude that you have assumed of me. It's a red flag to reveal that you know a secret I've tried to keep, and demand an explanation for it. A red flag is ignoring that demanded explanation because it doesn't fit into the narrative you're trying to push." She pauses for a moment, and glances up, and off to the side.
"Yelling at Cyril while being a guest in another clan was rude to our hosts, I admit. I lost my temper, and that was unseemly of me. But he insulted my brother, and I'm afraid that I will always be unseemly when confronted with that." And back down to her lap, tapping her fingers on her legs.
"Let me repeat myself, in the interests of communication. I was not pursuing Alistair at the time that you were with Norrington. I was not pursuing him when you told me of your pregnancy. I had...feelings, but I pushed them aside, because I believed that was the correct thing to do. It was...some time after all of that, where I decided that maybe I was wrong, and maybe it wouldn't hurt to try." She clicks her tongue, expression sour. "But it did. And now I know better. So kindly stop lecturing me on it."
She briefly presses her lips together. She is tempted, but she won't repay passive-aggressiveness with the like. She's going to keep being straight.
"All I wanted from you is 'I'm sorry you felt hurt and betrayed, but you have it all wrong.' I didn't want to be right about this, Beleth. I wanted to know there was more to it than you saying one thing and then doing another. And I wanted to believe you would see more in me than a dead leaf, and more in my child than that it's the correct race. I didn't know you were so deeply in doubt at the time. That's why I kept asking you questions. I wanted to know what's going on."
That seems to mollify Beleth to an extent--she relaxes some, expression softening (though still looking rather sullen).
"It felt pretty accusatory," Not that it takes much to convince Beleth that everybody hates her and all her life decisions. "You weren't saying a lot in the form of a question. You were saying them all as statements. That I had all these red flags." She feels petulant, but indignation is stronger. Still, she settles, sighing.
"I apologize for assuming you were accusing me of anything. Is there anything else you need clarified on." An attempt to not just be a grumpy gus.
A squint, though Beleth has always had something of a selective memory. Over half their conversation has been questions. But Beleth likes to be a martyr, so let her think herself one. It's not worth derailing the conversation to nail down that one tangential point.
"Any apology you make toward Cyril is business between you and him, and not my business to arrange, but I urge you to consider it. I urge you to consider making reparations where you have made tears, as people ordinarily do when they learn they have been hurtful and have long since calmed down. I would do the same for you."
Beleth's kneejerk reaction is to point out that Cyril was hardly crying over it, possibly because he knew she was right. And that she wasn't sorry, because she was right, and also because he'd been shit talking Sorrel. And in all honesty he was lucky she didn't deck him???
But none of these are helpful to the current conversation, and certainly are not things that Pel needs to hear. And honestly, even if she was right, and even if he'd been rude, her response had been...crossing a line in decorum. For that, at least, she knew she'd done wrong.
"I understand." She nods, hands clasped on her lap. "Thank you for your counsel, Pel. I'll take time to consider your words, and give apologies where they are due."
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arlathvhen) wrote2015-02-18 01:05 am
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Would you like the pamphlet or will the business card do.
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"And me? What are my goals?"
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It certain;y gives her time to try to puzzle out Pel's next question. 'Become a cautionary tale to scare young Dalish' probably won't go over well. "Help the Inquisition as well, I would assume." That's fairly neutral.
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"You would assume?" she asks. "But you would not ask. You never have. You have spoken to me as if I left the clan without a plan. As if I went into this--the Inquisition, leaving the clan, even motherhood--without thinking it through. That my life, my child, is just a little less pathetic than it could be because 'at least it's an elf.' And at the moment you said that, you were pursuing a human."
no subject
"You have been away from the clan just as long as me, Pel, so surely it has not escaped your notice, just how half-bloods are treated, from elves and humans alike. So yes, at least it's an elf, because no one will think you're your own child's nursemaid, or realize the situation and hate the both of you for it. But by all means, if that sounds pleasant to you, go for it. And while you're at it, continue to put words in my mouth, and assume thoughts I have never had. I've never called, nor made any overtones that either you or your child were pathetic. If you've assumed that, then it is a failing on your part, and your assumptions of me. If you came here to lecture me about what a terrible person I am, because I had to gall to develop feelings for someone, and contemplate that maybe I was wrong--something that happened after you told me of your pregnancy, by the way, if you'd bothered to listen to me--then you are wasting your time. But if that is the story that you wish to tell everyone about me, I can hardly stop you."
She calmly turns back to Pel, fingers laced together on her lap. "But have the common courtesy to get out of my tent before you do."
With that, she turns her attention to examining her hands. The implication isn't particularly subtle.
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"The only way to smooth out a miscommunication is to communicate, Beleth," she says, sounding slightly tried at last. "I haven't told anyone about Alistair. And I won't. I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of, but since you do, no one has heard or will hear it from me. It's not mine to tell anyway.
"But I'm not going to beg for forgiveness for the implication that your behavior has raised questions. Because that is what I came to talk to you about--privately, with dignity. I don't think you were wrong to want to be with Alistair, but it doesn't matter if I do. You're a grown woman capable of deciding your own heart. But I do think shouting at Cyril in a camp in which we are visitors is inappropriate, and also a red flag. And I think that criticizing me for past human suitors while entertaining one yourself is both inappropriate and a red flag. If something is wrong, I want to listen. But I will not tell you it's all right for you to treat your friends this way."
no subject
"You know what I think is a red card? Coming in here to accuse me of an attitude that you have assumed of me. It's a red flag to reveal that you know a secret I've tried to keep, and demand an explanation for it. A red flag is ignoring that demanded explanation because it doesn't fit into the narrative you're trying to push." She pauses for a moment, and glances up, and off to the side.
"Yelling at Cyril while being a guest in another clan was rude to our hosts, I admit. I lost my temper, and that was unseemly of me. But he insulted my brother, and I'm afraid that I will always be unseemly when confronted with that." And back down to her lap, tapping her fingers on her legs.
"Let me repeat myself, in the interests of communication. I was not pursuing Alistair at the time that you were with Norrington. I was not pursuing him when you told me of your pregnancy. I had...feelings, but I pushed them aside, because I believed that was the correct thing to do. It was...some time after all of that, where I decided that maybe I was wrong, and maybe it wouldn't hurt to try." She clicks her tongue, expression sour. "But it did. And now I know better. So kindly stop lecturing me on it."
I am so sorry for all the edits
"All I wanted from you is 'I'm sorry you felt hurt and betrayed, but you have it all wrong.' I didn't want to be right about this, Beleth. I wanted to know there was more to it than you saying one thing and then doing another. And I wanted to believe you would see more in me than a dead leaf, and more in my child than that it's the correct race. I didn't know you were so deeply in doubt at the time. That's why I kept asking you questions. I wanted to know what's going on."
no subject
"It felt pretty accusatory," Not that it takes much to convince Beleth that everybody hates her and all her life decisions. "You weren't saying a lot in the form of a question. You were saying them all as statements. That I had all these red flags." She feels petulant, but indignation is stronger. Still, she settles, sighing.
"I apologize for assuming you were accusing me of anything. Is there anything else you need clarified on." An attempt to not just be a grumpy gus.
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"Any apology you make toward Cyril is business between you and him, and not my business to arrange, but I urge you to consider it. I urge you to consider making reparations where you have made tears, as people ordinarily do when they learn they have been hurtful and have long since calmed down. I would do the same for you."
no subject
But none of these are helpful to the current conversation, and certainly are not things that Pel needs to hear. And honestly, even if she was right, and even if he'd been rude, her response had been...crossing a line in decorum. For that, at least, she knew she'd done wrong.
"I understand." She nods, hands clasped on her lap. "Thank you for your counsel, Pel. I'll take time to consider your words, and give apologies where they are due."