Snippet #1741488

“Brief, hmm? I can do that. And I never waste my time, I promise.” Beryl chuckled, but cut off the musical sound in short order. She had no desire to try his patience, not right now; that generally didn’t go over well in negotiations, after all. Instead, she fished around in her cloak until she produced a rolled parchment with the seal of the Divine impressed in royal blue wax at the center, holding the document closed.

“I doubt you care much for the trappings, but, well, I was entreated to deliver the message properly. Her Holiness the Divine formally requests the aid of the Hero of Ferelden in staving off the incoming Tevinter invasion, among other things. I wouldn’t recommend denying your identity, for you aren’t going to get rid of me that way. I understand that you might want to be known as something other than that for once, and I respect it, which is why your secret’s safe with me. However… I’m here to ask you the nice way. I have no idea what she plans to do if you refuse, but it probably won’t be as witty and charming as me.” She cracked a smile at her own joke and shook her head slightly, proffering the scroll should he wish to take it.

All joking aside, though, she wondered what he would do. It didn’t seem like the character of someone who’d sacrificed so much to end a Blight to refuse, but then the difference between that and this was enormous. The Blight was a universal ill upon the world, and nobody had really doubted that it needed to be stopped (though some had apparently doubted that it was a Blight, the two were not the same thing). This was a war, of human devising, and though it was no secret that many would suffer under Tevinter rule, it may well be something he considered outside his duty to prevent.

She’d always had something of an odd relationship with duty herself, actually. It had been the reason for many contrary actions, depending on what she saw at the time ‘duty’ to mean. Still, right now, at this very moment, she was acting based upon it. Because she knew from personal experience that in a world ruled by Tevinter, too many people wouldn’t stand a chance.

She’d never liked stacked odds.

In any case, Beryl eventually linked her arms together behind her back and kept pace silently, awaiting a response of some kind. Were he to reply in the negative, she could leave without repercussion, really. Her job was to find him and deliver the message. Justinia had simply assumed that he wouldn’t refuse, and so had never stipulated that she was to return with him. The once-assassin really did love loopholes like that; it made it so much easier not to have a stake in things you didn’t know the outcome of.