Beleth's workspace doesn't look too different from many of the other rooms in this research building, though visitors might be relieved to note there's no signs of some of the more malicious research others have been engaged in--not so much as a single live subject! Amazing. The space is full of organized clutter, books in stacks that ignore the bookshelves nearby, piles of papers covering the large table in the center of the room. Windows are opened, allowing a pleasant breeze in that threatens to push around the papers that haven't been weighed down. It's a jumbled but ultimately comfortable space, a far cry from a cold dungeon cell.

And Beleth herself is a far cry from a wretched prisoner. Dressed in loose-fitting Tevinter robes, she looks healthy and content as she pours over old texts, comparing them to notes, or the large map of Thedas on a wall. Sometimes she hums to herself as she works, other times she has a pastry in her mouth as she scribbles away--only to make a disgruntled noise as she gets crumbs on the paper. Truly a hard life.

But the thing that preoccupies her from her work the most is her companion. A familiar-looking Red Templar constantly attends to her, and while he seems to default to standing by the door, Beleth continually coaxes him to her side for some reason or another. While he's nearby, she often reaches out to gently touch him, resting a hand on his arm or elbow, like she's trying to catch his attention. Which is pointless, because his attention is almost never focused anywhere but her. Even when he remains at his position by the door, his charge often calls out to him. Sometimes it's just trivial chatter, sometimes it's sharing whatever she's working on at the moment. Whatever the case, the warm, affectionate smile that she shoots at him makes it clear that whatever his role, she seems to enjoy his company.

It's not exactly what you would picture for a prisoner of war.