Masks: Prologue

Thanks to Hemisphere for inspiring this and helping me with ideas and editing!

"You have been a bard, a chantry sister, and a companion to the Hero of Ferelden," Cassandra said, as she paced about the small room. "But who areyou?"

Leliana looked at Cassandra for several seconds, trying to gauge which answer she would prefer. She could be any of the three for her, or she could be something else entirely. But the last three weeks in Nevarra had given no hint as to the Seeker's motives, so instead she said, "I don't know."

"An honest answer," Cassandra said, surprising Leliana. She had thought that the Seekers demanded surety.

"I am trying to be honest." Leliana had promised that she would do her best, this time. She would try to be what the Chantry wanted, in word as well as in deed. She just needed to know what it was they wanted, a task that was proving more difficult than any she'd had before.

"Trying is insufficient," Cassandra said, stepping closer to where Leliana sat. "You must bare you soul before the eyes of the Maker. This is the purpose of the examen. The Seekers require nothing more from you, and we will accept nothing less."

Leliana had been told that this was the purpose of the examen, but people always exaggerated, no? She had thought that once you stripped away the fancy language, an examen would prove to be no more than a particularly long confession. And confessions were simple; you said the correct prayer before rattling off a list of Chantry-approved sins. Before long, you'd have a blessing and a penance.

She waited for Cassandra to continue for a minute, while they both stared at each other and she fought the urge to fidget. Eventually she asked, "What do you want me to tell you?" She had confessed recently, so those deeds were clean from her soul. Even if she had not, she suspected that Cassandra would not be overly interested in her most recent sins. They were mild, for there was only so much one could do in a convent. "You already know about me. You know what I've done, and probably half of what I've failed to do. What more is there to say?"

"Everything," Cassandra said. Her thin lips curved in a smile. "We must know all."

"Everything about what?" Leliana asked. She wasn't sure she understood. "About my life?" When Cassandra nodded, she became only more confused. She had no idea what advantage there would be in knowing about her life, at least beyond those elements that Cassandra had already investigated. "Telling you everything about my life could take nearly as long as living it," Leliana said. But rather than withdraw her request, Cassandra merely smiled.

"Our lives are no more than a blink in the eye of the Maker," Cassandra said. She clasped her hands before her. "I have time."

Leliana nodded. Most of her life had been rather dull, but she supposed she could elaborate or skip over the boring parts. "Well, I was born to a Fereldan woman who had escaped with her Orlesian mistress after the rebellion. She became pregnant out of wedlock, and her mistress, Lady Cecile, was kind enough not to cast her aside. My mother died when I was still young, and the Lady Cecile raised me to be her friend and companion."

Cassandra nodded. "Continue," she said.

Leliana closed her eyes, recalling her childhood. She had adored Lady Cecile, who had paid for her upbringing, and treated her as though she was her own daughter, despite that she was the offspring of a disgraced servant. "I stayed with Lady Cecile until she died, then worked as a minstrel for a time to support myself. Eventually I met Marjolaine, and was taught by her to become a bard."

She opened her eyes to find that Cassandra had moved. She was now standing very close to Leliana, her eyes fixed on her. "Why did you become a bard?" she asked.

There were so many reasons, and they were far too complicated to explain, so Leliana said, "I thought it would be fun." Cassandra scowled at her over that, so Leliana continued quickly with, "And it was for a time! It's such a glamorous lifestyle. There are music and parties and shoes! Oh, how I loved the shoes. There were such darling satin heels, with little blue bows and ribbons that trailed-"

"Bullshit," Cassandra said, stepping closer. "You did not become a bard for the shoes."

No, she had not. But she did not know that she wished to admit why she had chosen such a risky and disreputable profession. "The shoes were very cute," Leliana said. She gave a smile, hoping it would convince Cassandra to back down.

It did. Cassandra withdrew and her figure relaxed. She drew a stool from the corner and moved it so that she could sit near Leliana, at a level where they were eye to eye. She took Leliana's hand in her own and held it. "Leliana," she said. "We are trying to help. But we cannot if you will not be honest with us."

Leliana watched her for a long second and nodded. She drew a deep breath, and realized that she felt shaky. It had been so long since she had let herself think about her motives. The past was the past, and what bearing it had on the future came from her past actions, not her intentions. "Why does it matter?" she asked.

"It is the goal of the Seekers to shine the light of knowledge into the darkness of secrets and ignorance," Cassandra said. Her fingers stroked Leliana's. "How can we heal your wounds if we do not know where you hurt?"

Leliana closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. There were so many things she hated to recall, but she had an easier time explaining why she had become a bard than so many other facets of her life. At last she admitted, "I didn't become a bard for the shoes." The next words were harder, but she made herself say them. "I did it because I needed the money."

Cassandra squeezed her hand. "That was not so hard, was it?"

It was harder than talking about shoes, but less difficult to tell Cassandra about than what would come next. She nodded, and continued with her story.