The price of a soul

It's a scene straight out of her nightmares, made all the worse by the vividness of reality. The smell of blood everywhere, the sounds of dying men, the crushing pain in her arm as the Venatori brute drags her away from the remnants of the fight. Sheer, wild terror grips her just as surely, sunk into the marrow of her bones, and all she can do is wordlessly shriek as she struggles against her captors. The death throes of prey trapped in the jaws of a wolf.

Then a familiar voice matches her screams with his own, and she turns to see Cade, desperately trying to fight through to her. Seized by this last hope, her struggling intensifies, even as the brute hurries to increase their distance. His name rips from her lips, voice raw as she first calls for him in return, then screams at him to run, when she realizes he's going to be overwhelmed. But he's frenzied, heedless of himself in his bid to save her, and Beleth realizes that she's about to watch him die. Because of her.

If she's lucky, she'll join him soon.

When he finally falls, she doesn't look away. She owes him that much. But the finishing stroke never falls. A few Venatori gather around him, muttering in their foreign tongue, before another picks up his unconscious body and begins to follow her captor.

If they're lucky, maybe they'll just be used as fuel for a (hopefully close by) blood magic ritual.

They aren't lucky. She doesn't know why she bothered.

She's seen the Venatori's main camp in Orlais, but only from a distance. Up close, it's massive, bustling with activity. If you ignore the collars around the necks of half the population, it honestly wouldn't be too different from the Inquisition camp. She tries to memorize the layout, just in case some miracle escape occurs. It won't, but if it did, it'd be embarrassing to not be able to report it.

They're shoved into a small tent in the heart of the camp, and while neither they nor the tent are secured against escape, Beleth makes no moves to take advantage of it. Even if she beat the impossible odds (and luck has been noticeably absent as of late) to make it out of the camp and avoid pursuit, there was Cade to consider. He's still out cold, but she knew that even if he were hale and hearty, he'd never make it. He wasn't exactly a master of stealth.

Instead, Beleth begins to gingerly peel his armor off, inspecting his wounds. She's surprised when she's interrupted by a servant bringing them food, and more surprised when her request for bandages and water is granted. It's something to think over as she cleans and dresses Cade's injuries.

They want something. Something from her, specifically. And they want her to give it to them of her own volition. You don't give food to someone you're going to kill soon, and you definitely don't give them bandages for their companion. She sincerely doubted they would be ransomed, not when a Dalish elf had clearly been the priority. Information from a scout? It didn't seem like them to worry about food and first aid for people about to be put under their harsh interrogation. If she had to guess--which she doesn't, but she hasn't anything better to do--they had some manner of request for her. And Cade, someone willing to die for the slim chance of rescuing her, had presented an opportune insurance of cooperation.

She could kill him. Right now. While he's out cold, just wrap her hands around his neck and let him pass from this world quickly and painlessly, before he gets used against her, before he gets hurt because of her. But even as she contemplates it, he begins to stir. She sighs, and pulls his head into her lap, carefully feeding him as he pulls in and out of consciousness. It would be a kindness, but she's not sure it's a kindness her soul could bear. And even if she removed him from the situation, what of herself? Suicide would be far trickier, and while she doesn't like to think of herself as a coward...she has little desire to face the pain the Imperium could inflict on her.

She deliberates well into the night, and only sleeps once she finally reaches a resolution. It may well come to weigh even heavier on her soul, but it's a price she will endure.

The next day she's taken to a large tent, one with a low table right in the middle. Two Tevinter men sit on cushions on one side, and she is directed to take a cushion on the other. She does so, back straight, steeled with resolve. She's been training for this kind confrontation for years--She doubts that Leliana ever had this situation in mind, but like so much else, training had to be adapted for the realities of this new Thedas.

"Good morning," The larger one speaks first, voice impeccably amicable and polite. He's trained even longer than Beleth. "My name is Atius Marconi, and this is my associate, Maurus Valerio."

Beleth looks from Atius to Maurus, and decides Atius is in charge. "Beleth. It's a pleasure to meet you, ser." She speaks directly to Atius, and knows she was right when Maurus silently fumes. His leader, however, looks pleasantly amused.

"My. What good manners. Always a surprise." What he doesn't say, and what Beleth hears as loudly as if he had shouted it, was for a Dalish. She says nothing, and he continues. "I understand your trip here was...rather rough. Unpleasant, but necessary, I'm afraid. I'm sure that you're curious why we've brought you here?"

"You have a request for me," Her voice matches Atius' calm, her eyes steady but not confrontational. "And I'm willing to listen, if you're prepared to open negotiations."

Atius' eyebrows shoot up, but Maurus speaks first, snapping out, "Negotiations? Do you have any idea what kind of situation you're in--"

She glances at Atius, who looks far more entertained. Had any Dalish attempted to negotiate with him before? Doubtful. Well, she's been a dancing bear before. She'll wear that hat again, if it helps her accomplish her goals. There's a risk in interrupting Maurus, especially when she continues to speak directly to Atius, but she'll have to straddle that thin line of seizing opportunity, without seeming to challenge them.

"The situation is that I have something you want, and you have something I want," She doesn't waver, voice polite but unyielding. Chin up, eyes meeting Atius'. "I believe that it will be mutually beneficial for us to discuss our options so that everyone's desires will be optimally met."

Atius looks like that dancing bear has just burst into an operatic solo. Maurus looks like the bear just ate his mother.

"More and more surprises. Very well," Atius makes a gesture to one of the waiting servants, and Beleth is startled to suddenly find herself being served hot tea right alongside the two men. "What, exactly, are you hoping to negotiate?"

First thing is to get the most obvious out of the way. "I'd like to discuss what it is that you want me to do."

He nods, and even Maurus can't find the request unreasonable. With a glance at his superior, he produces several sheets, which he slides to Beleth. Whatever she had expected to see on that paper, whatever sort of betrayals and horrors, she found herself even more surprised to see the Elvhen script flowing across it. "Tevinter is still interested in uncovering more information about the Arlathan elves. Your ancestors," He adds meaningfully, and it finally dawns on Beleth why a Dalish elf had been singled out to be captured. "But our knowledge of the written language is...somewhat lacking. And Elvhen tends to...meander. It rarely states anything directly, and often references past writings, stories and legends we haven't found yet." He takes a break from lecturing the Dalish elf on the Elvhen language to turn to Atius, so he can make the actual offer.

"We want someone who can understand their meaning more easily. Who knows the stories. Who truly understands the elves who wrote these." He laces his fingers together, smiling warmly at Beleth. "We want you. Not just as a translator, but as a researcher for uncovering so much of the lost knowledge. That is what the Dalish desire, isn't it?"

He's pandering to her. Flattering her, making it sound like some grand, noble undertaking. She isn't fooled. Who knew what that knowledge would be used for, taken away because of Tevinter and returned right back for their shameless perusal. But just because she sees through the glamor doesn't mean that the offer isn't incredibly appealing. No more fighting, no more constant struggle, wondering if today would be her last. Dedicating her time to studying, to discovering and learning. Using the substantial resources of the Tevinter Imperium to uncover information about her ancestors that long been lost. Even if it passed to Tevinter, everything would be filtered through her. She'd know everything they knew. Maybe, some day, she could find a way to share that knowledge with the Dalish as a whole...

If any ever spoke to her again.

"I can do that." She allows them several moments of smug victory before she continues. "The companion I came with. He must be left alive." She takes a sip of her tea, letting them contemplate that. "That is my non-negotiable request. If you want my help, that must be met."

Her expression doesn't waver, but her blood chills when Atius' smile finally drops. He doesn't look angry, but--very serious. Her statement is carefully considered, before he finally speaks. "That is your priority in this? Above all else?"

"Yes."

"Even your own life?"

"Yes."

The silence following this stretches on, and Beleth has to keep a firm grip on the teacup, lest her hands start shaking. This is what it all boils down to. All of her cards--her ideals, her morals, her life--are thrown onto the table. She isn't sure which ones she'll get back.

Finally, after an eon of deliberation, Atius' face breaks into a smile once more. "It's a deal. Welcome to the Venatori, my dear." His hand extends out to her.

Beleth smiles, and takes his hand.