Prologue

The sorrowful humming of a lamentation echoed throughout the large hall of the crowded chantry, emanating from a line of people who stood in front of the alter facing the massed crowd, burning candles clasped in their hands. All of them dressed in dark and mournful garb, the faces of the wealthier individuals covered with masks shaped to that of tragedy while the rest had their faces painted in various patterns and color of gloom and sorrow. It was a day of mourning for the small town, their beloved lady had passed on and it was time to pay her body a final respect and to bid her spirit a last farewell as it moved on into the Fade. The line standing in front of the alter consisted of men, woman, and children all of whom were members of her family or very close friends. Behind them was the alter, a large statue of holy Andraste standing against the wall with a long marble pedestal underneath her, resting on top of that pedestal was the body of the lady draped with a veil of linen. The crowd that had gathered was varied; nobles, merchants, burghers, and peasants all separated in their own little groups, the higher their class the closer to the alter they stood.

Along the back wall of the chantry she stood tall, her eyes focused exclusively on the alter and pedestal. Mixed in with the various peasantry and other lower class she easily stood out, their ordinary sack cloth clothing paling greatly to her ornate dress. They paid her little mind though, their thoughts focused too greatly on the ceremony before them to bother with trivial curiosities.

"Was this your doing?"

Marjolaine turned her attention towards the elderly man standing besides her, giving him nothing but a blank stare. "Such a rude and unfitting question to ask," she answered with a snap of her tongue.

"Come now, let us not play this fools game of innocence and declination."

Marjolaine studied the tall, thin man; balding gray hair and a thin mustache under his nose, his face lined and wrinkled with age, his features dull and lifeless much like his milky brown eyes. He was an aristocrat however, dressed in elegant yet mournful attire with a thick oak cane grasped tightly in his right hand and planted firmly in the ground, using it to support his ailing body, his crippled right leg forcing him to trudge along with an obvious limp. "No I did not have anything to do with this." Quickly she turned her attention back upon the body resting atop the pedestal. "I was quite acquainted with Lady Cecile as you well know, I am simply here to pay my respects to a good friend."

"A few private meetings and a couple of shared words does not make one good friends. Perhaps in your case though you take what you can get. So how has Janine been treating you my dear, I do not believe I have spoken to you since she took you in."

"I am sure you are quite aware of how she treats me," she muttered angrily.

"Now now, she is not that bad. She simply expects success and obedience and punishes failure, you could learn from her."

Marjolaine glared at him for a brief moment before common sense got the better of her and she returned to the ceremony. "It goes far beyond that, Lord Avere. Though I hold no doubts that you know exactly what I am speaking of."

"Just remember you brought this upon yourself," Avere muttered softly. "So tell me, in the sake of our friendship of course, who arranged this?"

"I do not attend the funerals of those I have, dispatched of," she hesitated with the last two words.

"Of course not. Well, except for one."

Marjolaine gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, anger and frustration boiling inside of her. After a moment though she managed to calm herself, realizing it best not to try and strike at a snake. "Is there a reason you have sought me out Lord Avere? Or are you here to simply further the baseless accusations and continue the slander of my name."

"Slander of your name?" Avere sarcastically asked behind a light chuckle. "My dear you have done well in accomplishing this on your own. But do understand I hold no grudge against a beauteous young lady looking to further herself in order to obtain her aspirations. Business is business, I am quite understanding of this. Whether it was done by your hands or not is of little concern to me."

"I thank you for both the kindness and forgiveness my lord. However surely you did not hobble your way to me for simple endearment."

"Curiosity and our business, nothing more."

"The latter has already been satisfied."

"Oh? Pray tell."

"I gave the Ferelden's the location of the camp, an ambush and slaughter shortly followed suit. Whether or not the one you wanted dead is indeed dead I do not know, but I was assured none survived."

Avere nodded his head as he turned and joined Marjolaine's gaze upon the body. "It is crucial that he is dead, otherwise little will actually be gained from this. Was it discreet?"

"Oh yes. As far as Ferelden is concerned the information came from a simple yet loyal peasant girl who had stumbled upon a forward encampment of Orlesian troops and supplies. As far as Orlais is concerned it is much the same, the group had been careless and was spotted and as devastating a blow as it was, it was out of their control and unavoidable. As for your specific man, I shall investigate further just to be sure but I do believe he is dead."

"Good," Avere said with another approving nod. "At the very least this will quell any more aggressive moves on Ferelden for a time. But he must be dead otherwise this was all for naught. Find out for certain, if he lives deal with it."

"Of course," Marjolaine replied plainly.

"Once you know for certain he is dead I will send the rest of the coin to Janine."

Marjolaine glanced at him nervously. "Janine will never accept that offer."

"Well she has no choice now does she?"

"I suppose not."

"Good girl, do give the woman my regards however. Now, why are you here?"

"Paying my respects to an old friend, as I have said."

"I know you better than that. You are the most obdurate woman I have ever met."

"If that is what you think than you do not know me as well as you believe." Marjolaine snapped as she turned and glared at the elderly man. "If your business with me is done I must politely ask that you take your leave my lord."

Avere did not oblige to her wish, instead he simply stepped to the side to give himself a bit more distance from her. "I understand you have been working closely with Duralle. Against Janine's wishes mind you," he muttered softly. "A good boy, charming, skillful at what he does."

"An occasional assistance when the need arises, how I go about my job is of no concern to Janine."

"I see. So this arrangement, is it strictly business or is there a more, personal attachment?"

Marjolaine sneered. "Are you still upset at what he has done to you?"

"Forgive and forget my dear, forgive and forget. I am a man understanding of the grand game, and I understand I have made mistakes along the way, that one being the most dire."

"Is that so? Most men are not quite as forgiving as yourself."

"Of that I do not disagree. They feel the game serves them alone, that they are the sole masters and everything is under their complete control. Then when the fools get bit they become shocked as it if was an act of treason and indecency against them."

Marjolaine grinned as she turned and faced the old man. "I remember it quite differently."

"Of course the initial shock was a bit, upsetting. Shortly after I managed to look past it however." Avere stared into her cold, piercing gaze and smiled. "So are you here for business or pleasure? Or have the two become one in the same for you?"

"You are not quite as charming as you believe yourself to be," Marjolaine muttered. "I have already said what I will say on the matter. My business is my own and I am under no obligation to share it with you."

"Let us not forget all I have done for you my dear. The very least you can do is share your intentions."

"I consider the silence Duralle and myself have maintained on the subject of your transgressions to be well more than enough repayment for your 'generosity'."

Avere shook his head and began hobbling his way towards the center aisle of the chantry, purposely brushing against her as he passed her by. "Do not forget your task," he muttered behind a stern face as he slowly made his way to the front of crowd.

Marjolaine watched as he limped away, a feeling of disgust settling in her stomach. She abhorred the man; arrogant, diabolical, and twisted yet at the same time he was sharp, cunning, and more importantly powerful. As much as she despised the man he was a great person to have on ones side and in Orlais that was the greatest asset one could obtain.

Her attention returned to the ceremony at the front, the somber atmosphere and beautiful tribute helping to push the thought of that man out of her mind. The lamentation had come to an end; those who had been singing now knelt on a knee, their hands folded together and there heads bowed to the floor as the reverend of the chantry, an elder and scrawny woman, led a prayer of mourning she was unfamiliar with. Behind her a small choir of men quietly sung the Chant of Light in a way that added emphasis onto the prayer. Shortly that too came to an end however and was followed by a deep moment of silence and hushed prayer, the ambiance inside the Chantry falling deathly still. Finally the revered mother slowly began climbing down the steps as the four chanters once more began their song as they lifted the elegant wooden slab the body had been resting on, following the priests exact steps at the same pace. Immediately behind them those who had sung the lamentation followed closely behind, their candles still in hand and there heads down. As they passed another row then they fell in behind them, and so on.

Marjolaine gave a sorrowful sigh as the body passed next to her, the elderly woman would be peacefully asleep for the eternity that laid before them all. She closed her eyes and bowed her head in respect, she did hold a bit of admiration for the old woman, at least as much as she allowed herself to hold for any individual. After a moment she opened her eyes and stared up once more, her attention now falling upon a young girl in the procession donned in a small dark dress, an elaborate headdress resting upon her head, her face painted with dark hues and a candle resting in the palm of her hands. Her eyes continued to follow the girl until she walked through the large doors of the chantry, vanishing into light of the outside world.

Eventually it came time for Marjolaine to fall in line with the procession and she did, following it until they were outside the chantry and then she casually broke away from the crowd. She did not walk away quite yet though, instead she stood her ground and watched as they marched on until slowly the procession began to disappear as they followed the cobblestone road down a hill on their way to a pyre outside the city. As the last of the group finally disappeared she turned herself around and began to traverse the street, making her way towards the village nestled between two large fallows.

The village was for the most part lifeless, most of the occupants still mourning the loss of their lady. A few children could be seen playing in the streets, an occasional shop stall open and attended, a couple of citizens strolling down the street for whatever reason. It was a quaint little place, typical for a minor land owner such as Cecile. The buildings made exclusively of timber which functioned as homes and workshops, a small market place in the center which consisted of nothing but stalls and tents, various mills running along the the stream that flowed in front of the entrance. The only thing worthy of note was the manor that stood atop a hill just outside the village, large and lavish as most aristocrats preferred their homes to be. Stone walls and glass windows, both a rarity outside of the major cities, it was quite an elegant structure and soon it would be raging with the inferno that is Orlesian politics.

Marjolaine made her way to the hostel located near the center of the village, one of the larger structures that could be seen. An ugly large building of wood, dotted with oil-parchment windows and inside it was no better. A large fireplace set along one of the walls with a few chairs that formed a half circle in front of it. Square tables made of a cheap wood sat in random spots, the walls plain aside from an occasional painting and bits of poor tapestry. It wasn't quite the quality Marjolaine was accustomed too but in such a place it was the best there was. Near the corner of the room sat a bar, behind it three young men stood all peeking interestingly at her. Marjolaine smiled at their obvious ogling, she enjoyed seizing the eyes of men as she entered a room. Slowly she made her way towards the stairs, shortening her steps and tightening her walk in order to add onto the intrigue of the young men. Years ago it was taught that her body could be used as a weapon, it could bring down warriors and kings, crumble cults and nations, and destroy an army. While the possibilities may have been greatly exaggerated she had learned over time the basis of the lesson proved quite true and she made sure to employ it as often as possible, never knowing when a favor may be needed.

Up the stairs and into a narrow hallway she made her way to the door which led into her room. Standing in front of it a moment she took several deep breaths and closed her eyes as she relaxed herself. As soon as she felt herself ready she gently pushed open the door and stepped into the ordinary room, her eyes immediately falling upon a middle aged woman who sat at a table picking away at a plate of poultry and cheese.

"You have been gone longer than I had allowed."

"Forgive me Mistress Janine," Marjolaine responded softly as she bowed her head. "I lost track of time."

"I do not want to hear an excuse," The woman snapped as she looked up at Marjolaine for the first time since she had entered the room. "Did you speak with Lord Avere?"

"Yes," Marjolaine answered quickly and quietly. She looked up and met the woman's hazel colored eyes. "He asked that I send you his regards."

"Bah, I do not care for such follies. Did he give you word on when he would deliver the coin?"

"He." Marjolaine paused as she gulped. "I was asked to confirm that the man was indeed dead."

Janine sighed and then slammed her fork on the table. "Why did you not see to this already?"

"I did my best. But it was impossible for me to do anything aside from taking word." A silence hung between the two of them, Marjolaine could see her contemplating on something. Janine was her bard master, rigid and vicious , doing whatever she felt was necessary in order to make sure she maintained complete control over the usually confident and strong Marjolaine.

"See to it that it is completed quickly. You have wasted enough time on this foolish errand."

"I will see to it immediately."

"Now leave. You need to be at the manor when the aristocracy are there, listen in and see if you can find anything of interest."

"Yes Mistress Janine." Marjolaine bowed and stared at her a moment longer as she returned to her eating. She was an aging woman, wrinkles starting to dominate her face, her soft brown hair now streaked with bits of gray, her girth starting to widen, Janine was utterly useless as a bard but excelled at the intricate game of politics and that alone made her quite popular amongst the liaisons and proxies. Quickly she turned and left the room, slamming the door as she walked out, feeling the anger stirring within Janine as a consequence.

Marjolaine left the hostel and walked back out into the village, peering around once more as she stepped out onto the streets. Many of the villagers were starting to return, their time of mourning coming to an abrupt end. The aristocrats were returning as well, far behind the peasants and burghers, walking together clumped in a tight group with a few soldiers encircled around them. She eyed them a moment but shrugged away any thought. The manor was open to all due to the passing of the lady and she would have no problem walking right in and conducting her business, most of the nobility would be far to busy quarreling over the scraps to notice or care anyways. Still, that was a passing thought as she had other, more personal business to deal with. In the back she caught a glimpse of Avere struggling to keep up with the crowd, his wife and four children surrounding him, assisting him whenever possible. The feeling of disgust began to creep back in her stomach as she watched the snake of a man slink on, no doubt preparing himself to feast upon the others as the time for settlements and endowments approached. Suddenly a hand fell on her shoulder, abruptly breaking her concentration. She turned around franticly only to find herself staring into the dark blue eyes of a tall and strapping young man with short, dark brown hair and a clean cut face donned in a set of stubbed leather armor, standing there over her with an amicable smile. Marjolaine grinned as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips against his, her grin widening as she pulled away, her heart and breathing racing from exuberance. "Maker's Breath, what has brought you to this place?" she asked in a heavy whisper.

The man stood back up and shrugged. "You," he replied plainly.

Marjolaine grasped his hands and quickly led him towards a small alleyway between the hostel and a workshop of sorts. Once the end was reached she looked around making sure they were out of common sight and then gazed upon his face once more. "Are you mad, if Avere finds that you are here he will have your head. And if Janine catches word."

Duralle chuckled at the mention of the two names. "Avere? Janine? What reason is there for me to fear a cripple and a swine?" As Marjolaine prepared an answer he pressed a finger against her lips and slowly shook his head. "Do not fret, neither of them will ever know I am here."

Marjolaine felt his finger glide across her face and neck, his words and touch a vain attempt at calming her. "Please, be truthful with me. Why did you come?"

Duralle smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Tonight will be a proud night for you and I wanted to be here to share it. Avere and Janine of are no concern to me, these other fools with land and coin are of no concern." He felt her head fall and rest against his chest, looking down at her he watched as a relaxed smile come across. Softly he began stroking her dark silky hair helping to put her more at ease. "This child you discussed before you left, have you spoken to her?"

Marjolaine looked up at him. "No, not yet. I will soon."

Duralle released her from his arms and leaned back against the wall of a building, rubbing his face as he sent himself deep in thought. "Are you sure this is a good idea? You know little of her and she is not some child of the streets."

"I know all I need to know. She has what is necessary and everything else I will teach her."

"Perhaps, but she is a child of nobility, how can you bring her away from that."

"She is no child of Cecile or any noble. She is the daughter of some simple servant and for some reason went under the care of Cecile. She will be convinced."

"You seem confident in that. I just hope you know what you are doing, she is young and in good care."

Marjolaine grinned and laughed. "When did your heart become so soft, especially for one you know nothing about. Remember I was younger than she when I was trained."

"Yes but you were found an orphan living in the gutter of Val Royeaux, a little different than being under the patronage of an aristocrat," he watched as her expression quickly dimmed. "Forgive me, I did not mean it as disrespect. You do what you must and I will do what I can to support it."

"I will not force it upon her if that eases your conscious. A simple offer, nothing more. If she refuses than I will find another."

"That is not what I am worried about. I am worried about how much attention snatching a child such as her would bring."

"Snatch?" Marjolaine chuckled. "What is it you are comparing me to?"

"You know what I mean."

Marjolaine pressed a hand against his chest then stood on her toes and allowed a deep kiss between them to linger. "Trust me," she whisper as she pulled back an inch.

"Trust you? Trust Marjolaine?" Duralle gave her a jestful smile. "I know what happens to people who trust you so as tempting an offer as it is, I must regretfully pass."

Marjolaine slapped him hard in the chest as she slowly and seductively backed away. "And where will you resting this eve?"

"Take the road south a ways and you will come across a thick woodland on your right. Head in a bit and you will run into a large clearing, I have a small camp set there."

"Perfect." Marjolaine responded joyfully. "Then tonight we shall celebrate and carouse as we have never done before. Fruit and wine as we dance around the fire under the moon and stars."

Duralle watched her with a smile as she gracefully glided around the narrow alley as if she was dancing by herself. It was odd watching her when she got like this, giddy as a young girl in love for the first time, which was true in her case he supposed. She was quite young, still in her late teens and as far as he knew she never had a real love. It just seemed strange coming from a woman who had killed many of the man and woman she ever shared a bed with, a woman who seemed to receive more satisfaction from their taking a life then from their acts of pleasure. "Be careful with that, someone may mistake us for witches and apostates. I would hate for our evening to be ruined by a horde of Templar's storming upon us."

"Let them come," she muttered softly as she fell into his arms once more.

"As bellicose as always I see. Personally I have grown rather fond of having my head attached to my shoulders, and I must say you would not look quite as stunning without yours."

Marjolaine smiled as she rested her head against his chest once more, listening carefully to the beating of his heart. "Tonight we shall revel in our victory and then make love until the break of day. Tomorrow, tomorrow everything will be different."

"Indeed it will." Duralle sighed and looked towards the end of the alley making sure no one stood there watching. "So you are aware I may not be at the camp when you arrive, I do have something that must be taken care of."

Marjolaine looked up at him. "Avere?"

"Nothing of the sorts, I promise. It is just something that must be taken care of."

"I see."

Duralle smiled and brushed his hand against her cheek. "Never have I let you down before and I will not start now. Chances are I will be there waiting patiently for your arrival, but if I am not I did not want you to worry."

Marjolaine returned the smile with one of her own as she backed away. "I should be going, Janine expects me to be there when the lords and ladies begin their disputes over the endowment." As she backed away a bit further she bowed her head. "Until tonight."

"Until tonight."

Several hours had passed since Marjolaine joined the aristocrats at the ladies manor, all of them gathered together in a grand hall. The room itself was massive and elegant, the walls covered with a blue linen with beautiful tapestries, decorative weaponry, and exquisite paintings resting over it. Parts of the floor covered with dyed rush, a gold and silver chandelier hanging from the ceiling above, and a grand fireplace embedded in the furthermost wall, it's roaring fire supplying more then enough light for the room. In the center of the room a colossal trestle table was being set up and decorated by various elves and humans, the aroma of various cooked meats and seasonings filling the air, a feast was being prepared as a final commendation for the lady who had passed.

Marjolaine had spent the time politely mingling with the various aristocrats, flirting with those who gained a lascivious look in their eyes as she approached. Most here knew her well, or at the very least knew of her storied reputation. Still, her infamy did not deter them from desiring the company the lovely Marjolaine, whether for a simple chat or for more intimate desires. A few of the men who had come alone offered her their beds for the night,gracefully though she turned down their invitations. It always surprised her how willing so many were to lay with her for an evening despite knowing the many rumors and stories that revolved around her, perhaps the thrill and pleasure was just too much for them to pass.

Eventually she isolated herself from the crowd after catching sight of Avere slowly limping his way across the room in her direction. It was best to deal with him alone, he had a habit of making her quite uncomfortable when amongst company. "Lord Avere," she spoke and bowed once he was within vocal distance. "It is an honor for you to grace me with your presence once more."

"None of your games woman, you have no business here."

"Why is that Lord Avere?" Marjolaine asked sarcastically. "If I am not mistaken the manor is open to all who knew Lady Cecile and cherished her dearly."

"A handful of brief meetings does not constitute knowing and cherishing her," Avere snapped. "I want you out before I summon the guard."

"Such hostility is not needed my lord, especially since these lands do not belong to you." Marjolaine grinned and with tight steps walked upon him, caressing his leathery face. "I am here to pay final respects, nothing more."

Avere batted her hands away and glowered. "I will see you thrown out."

"Oh?" Marjolaine looked over the old mans shoulder, her eyes settling upon a young, dark haired, and overweight man. "Come, let us see." She brushed against him as she walked by, making her way towards the large man who stood idly. "Lord Hervé." She said gleefully as she threw her arms around the man. "Forgive my informalities Lord Hervé, it has just been so long since we have seen each other I could not contain my excitement."

"Err," Hervé stared at her a moment blankly. "Do I. Oh I do remember you, Marjolaine correct."

Marjolaine smiled and bowed her head. "I am honored that you remember my name."

"Oh I could never forget a lady such as yourself. I am glad you could come at such a somber time, it is good to see my mother had such admiration from so many."

"You have my condolences lord, she was a great woman who has touched many of us."

"Indeed." Hervé watched as Avere slowly hobbled up behind Marjolaine. "Lord Avere, it is nice to see you as well."

"Thank you, your host has been most gracious to me and my family Lord Hervé." Avere muttered..

"Nonsense, it is the least I could do for such honorable guests." Once his words were done Hervé turned his attention back upon the young lady standing close in front. "I do not believe we have met since the untimely passing of your husband, you have my sympathy, however late it is."

Marjolaine lowered her head and bit her lip, preparing for some snide remark to come about from Avere. To her surprise however there was nothing but silence from the elder so she looked backed up with a hollow smile. "Thank you lord, it was tragic."

"Again you have my deepest sympathy, may Andraste comfort his spirit." Hervé sighed and smiled. "Now is there anything I can do for you, are the accommodations befitting of a lady such as yourself?"

"Actually Lord Hervé." Avere interjected before she had a chance to speak. "If I may be so bold, it would be best if she was escorted off of your families estate. She is no member of the aristocracy and has a reputation you are no doubt aware of."

"I have done nothing to offend anyone my lord. I have traveled all the way from Val Royeaux to bid farewell to a dear friend."

"She is a knave and a fiend Lord Hervé," Avere asserted with a tone surpassing hers. "Mark my word she will bring about dire troubles."

"I will do no such thing," Marjolaine uttered in her defense. "My lord, I am here to mourn and nothing more." She moved in closer, letting her breasts rub against his arm as she walked around him, her hand gently brushing against his back side. "I am not asking for anything except the privilege to join in on the ladies final goodbye." She stood behind the man, peering over his broad shoulder at Avere, a coy yet seductive look radiating from her face. The old mans face twisted and turned with anger and rage, he knew he had been bested and it made him burn inside.

"Lord Hervé," Avere started.

"Enough Avere, the lady has done nothing here to warrant such an assault. When we are on the lands and within the walls of the d'Allemagne family then you may do as you wish. But for now you shall remain silent and act as a gracious guest should."Hervé turned around and smiled as he extended a hand. "Come my dear, you shall accompany me at the head of the table."

"You are far too kind to me Lord Hervé." Marjolaine replied bashfully as she accepted his hands. She turned and watched the face of the old man twist even more as he stormed off, the loud clanking that came from his cane smashing into the floor with each step he took was a good indication of the anger swelling inside of him. It took an effort but she managed to contain her laughter within a blithe grin.

The deep bellow of a horn echoed throughout the hall signaling for the guests to take their seats. A white linen cloth had been laid out across the table, silver set in front of every seat and various flower arrangements dotted along the center of the table. Everyone stood tall besides their chair, hands clasped and heads down, as Hervé delivered a lengthy eulogy. Once completed there was a toast in her name and they took their seats, servants rushing from person to person filling their chalices or dropping bits of food on their plates.

She had been to many balls and gatherings such as this, the atmosphere usually being much more jubilant. Words and laughter would be shared as music was played and songs sung, lords and ladies occasionally rising for a quick dance. It was quite different this time; a heavy silence dominated the room, the tapping of silver against plates, random bits of banter or a stray laugh occasionally alleviating the somber feel plaguing the atmosphere.

Marjolaine glanced around at the nobility as they all casually picked at their plates or sipped from their chalices, most still wearing their face paint, head dresses, and mourning apparel. Many of them discreetly peered at her with looks of both intrigue and fear, curious as to why she was here and why she sat at the head of the table. Anxiety no doubt crept through their minds as thought that blood may be spilled tonight seeped in. Their fears seemed to be outweighing their curiosity though, the discreet glances soon came to a halt aside from a few who seemed more then willing to test her and her reputation. Unfortunately she would have to disappoint them for the night, there were far more relevant matters that required her attention. "How about a song my lord?"

Hervé looked to his side curiously. "That is not very appropriate all things considered."

"A simple song would do no harm. Your guests appear to be quite disinterested, a song would ease the tension and give them something to talk about."

Hervé scanned across sides of the table and sighed. "Perhaps you are right. Regrettably I have no minstrels or trouvères on hand."

"A pity. Though I do recall Cecile having a child under her care and she frequently had her preform for her guests, would she not suffice?"

"Child? Leliana?" Hervé snickered. "She is hardly worthy of performing for such esteemed guests."

"Oh? I remember her to be quite enchanting."

Hervé sighed as viewed the faces of his guests once more. "I suppose she will suffice," he muttered as he raised a hand and waved a young elven maiden over.

Marjolaine watched the lord besides her whisper in the elves ear and then sent her off. She followed the elf as she gracefully left the room before turning her attention back upon the table in front of her, at the far end the familiar eyes of Avere beamed directly at her. She met his stare with her own, grinning in revel as she pondered on the thoughts racing through his mind. She wondered if he was scared, trembling underneath that smug composure..

The elf returned a few minutes later, leading the young girl to the end of the table opposite of Marjolaine. Still dressed as she was earlier, her face still painted and that elaborate headdress still nestled upon the crown of her head.

"Good," Hervé muttered as he raised his chalice. "Sing us a song child."

Marjolaine looked across the table, studying the girl as best she could from such a distance. She seemed a bit flustered by the abrupt request but she gathered herself and stood as tall as she could, though that wasn't much.

"What song would you like Lord Hervé?"

Marjolaine listened to the high pitched words of the young girl, admiring at how well composed she appeared to be.

"It matters not, something fitting. Perhaps sing one of my mothers favorites," Hervé responded to the child's inquiry.

"As you wish my lord." The child bowed her head then stood tall once more. There was a bit of silence as she let the words gather and the rhythm dance in her mind. Then suddenly with another bow she began to sing, soft and sweet...

''She walks in the beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that is best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes:

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which from the heavens to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every ravens tree,

Of softly lightens of her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

When we two parted

In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted

To sever the years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder, thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning

Sunk, chill on my brow,

It felt like the warning

Of what I feel now.

Thy vows are all broken,

And light is thy fame;

I hear thy name spoke,

And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,

A knell to my ear;

A shudder comes o'er me...

Why wert thou so dear?

They know not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well..

Long, long shall I rue thee,

Too deeply to tell.

In secret we meet

In silence I grieve

That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive.

If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee?

With silence and tears.''

As the song went one Marjolaine let her eyes wander about the room, from the girl to the faces of the aristocrats the the servants standing along the wall. The child was magnificent and was that reflected in the looks of awe and confound that lingered in their expressions. It was just as she remembered it years ago, singing out her heart and leaving the room enchanted and dumbfounded. Even Marjolaine herself had been taken by surprise at the child's talents.

Then the song gracefully came to an end, the child simply bowed and left. It took a few moments for the aristocracy to gather themselves, no doubt reeling from shock and the skillful work of one so young. A few applauds even came about, a rarity from people who felt nothing was to good for them. She watched as the child left, as composed and as tall as when she had sung. A proud child.

Time had drug on as the day was beginning to die. The aristocrats had all convened into a private room for the reading of the will and to spend hours upon hours arguing over who got what scraps, contriving and conniving in order to gain bits of pieces they were never entitled to own. Marjolaine stood along the wall that separated herself and the nobility, hoping to catch a revealing shout or a passionate argument. But the stone wall allowed no words to pass and the door the led into the room was guarded by two soldiers donned in their elegant plate armor and brandishing ornate halberds, there more for looks and menace than practicality. There being no point in standing there accomplishing nothing she turned her attention towards the large fireplace embedded into the wall, a small figure sitting there alone, silently gazing upon it's radiant glow. A smile crossed her face as she crossed the hall, plotting and planning her words and offer.

"You sing beautifully," Marjolaine spoke softly as she crept behind the girl. Almost immediately the child jumped from her chair and began to bow but she waved her off. "There is no need for that, I am no blue blood. Come, sit back down." Marjolaine watched as the girl obeyed her order and then took a seat besides her. "I am sorry for your loss, Lady Cecile was a good woman." She caught a glimpse of tears trickling down the girls cheek and after the child showed a bit of hesitation she allowed her to gently brush them away. "You know it is rude not to talk to your company, I know Cecile of all people would have taught you that."

"Thank you," the girl replied through a sorrowful tone.

Marjolaine smiled. "You should not mourn so, death will catch us all at some point. You should remember and cherish the happy times you shared, hold them dear to your heart and never forget otherwise your life will be full of sorrow and grief. But now I have forgotten my manners, I am Marjolaine."

The girl hesitated a moment before nodding her head, a hint of a smile breaking through her mournful expression. "I am Leliana," she replied softly.

"I know," Marjolaine stated simply. "I have seen you preform in the past, we have even met once or twice. Cecile was quite proud of you, she would brag and boast about this talented little girl she had groomed and taught herself. She had quite an admiration for you considering you were not kin. Dare I say she even loved you more then her own children." The girl turned away from her as the sobbing returned. "Come now," she said as she rose from her seat and took a knee in front of the girl, brushing away her tears once more in an attempt to console. At the same time she took the chance to study her facial features a bit more thoroughly. Soft blue eyes rimmed with dark blue paint, pout lips, soft cheeks, even bone structure, a dainty nose, and bits of her bright red hair springing free from the headdress. So long as she was well maintained she would blossom into a true beauty. "Do not weep little lady, this is not what Cecile would have wanted from you. She would have wanted to see you happy, to see you make others happy." Marjolaine tenderly stroked the child's cheek with the back of her hand, trying to console her with a look of warmth and care. "Lady Cecile told me how you love to sing and dance so let us find a quiet place to do just that, it will help cheer you up."

"You would like to watch me sing and dance?"

Marjolaine laughed and stood back up, taking the girls tiny hands in her own. "I am a minstrel, song and dance are my life's greatest joys." An eager smile shot across the child's face as she stood from her seat and led Marjolaine along through the decorative corridors of the estate until they reached the her room. It was a quaint little chamber, not as lavish as the rooms of the nobility but it was far beyond anything a commoner would be accustomed to. A small hay bed with cloth sheets, a few pieces of modest pine furniture and some simple toys and instruments. The walls covered in a soft blue linen and a few small paintings hung about. Marjolaine walked about and studied them all, one in particular catching her attention. "Who is this portrait of?" She asked she examined it a bit more closely. A young woman with long red hair posed with a somber look, resembling Leliana a bit.

"My mother," Leliana answered softly. "After she passed away Lady Cecile hired someone to paint a portrait of her by memory and for my birthday she gave it to me as a gift. But they got her nose and eyes wrong."

"I see. She was... Is quite lovely." Marjolaine saw the look in the girls eyes and figured it best to change the subject. "I see you have quite a few books, strange for someone of your age. Can you read and write?"

"Of course. How else would I learn songs, poetry, and stories."

"Indeed." Marjolaine chuckled as she prepared herself to speak in a foreign tongue. "Tell me, what language am I speaking?"

"Antivan."

"Very impressive. Lady Cecile as raised you very well." Marjolaine said astonished by the child's knowledge.

Leliana blushed and smiled. "You said you were a minstrel, can you teach me new songs and stories?"

"I am sure I know something that your ears have yet to hear."

Time slipped by, minutes to hours with the hours feeling like minutes. They enjoyed their time together, Leliana laughing and giggling as she sung and danced the night away while Marjolaine played one of the various instruments the child had in her room, occasionally joining in with her on a song or dance. They shared stories of love and heroism, songs of joy and sorrow, and Marjolaine taught her the newest dances stemming from Val Royeaux, amazed at how nimble and light footed she was. This was nothing like the girl she had introduced herself to near the fireplace, instead of a steady flow of tears and frowns she now bore a constant smile and gleeful attitude.

"You are truly a gifted child," Marjolaine said as she sat down on the edge of the bed to catch her breath after a lengthy dance.

"Thank you," Leliana replied as she smiled and curtsied.

"So polite as well, though being under the tutelage of Cecile I suppose I should not expect any less." Once she had caught her breath she stood back up and smiled. "Sadly I must be leaving now."

For the first time since being accompanied by Marjolaine a look of sorrow came across Leliana's face. "Do you have to go, I was having so much fun."

"Yes, I am afraid I must. I have other affairs I must attend to tonight."

"Will you be here tomorrow then?"

"I am sorry, tomorrow I will be leaving for Val Royeaux."

"Oh," Leliana said in a disappointed tone as she sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Do you not enjoy yourself here?"

"I love it here. I loved being with Lady Cecile and she loved me but..."

"But her children do not share the same enthusiasm for you?"

Leliana looked up at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Marjolaine chuckled and sat down besides her on the bed wrapping an arm around small frame. "It was not hard to tell with Hervé, the way he looked and spoke to you. Her other two sons are off to war I believe, but for some reason I feel it is no different with them. They are all jealous of you, taking so much of their mothers affection." She let the thought seep in her mind before speaking again. "You enjoy singing and dancing?"

"Very much."

"Well, perhaps you would like to come to Val Royeax with me."

Leliana looked up at her with a smile and wanted to shout in glee but she refrained herself knowing it to good to be true. "What for?"

Marjolaine laughed and gently shook her within her arm. "To prepare you to become a minstrel, what else. I will teach you everything I know, introduce you to some of the greatest songwriters and poets in Orlais. You will wear the finest dresses and the prettiest shoes as you travel all across Orlais and perhaps even beyond, performing for lords and ladies, at taverns and balls, maybe even kings and queens. You have such a talent and it would be a shame to see it wasted here."

Leliana grinned at the thought. "But I cannot just leave, can I?"

"That choice is only yours to make my dear. No one can tell you what is best for you, no one can tell you what you want to do."

"I love this place though, it is my home."

"I know. But the two people you held dearest here are now gone, is there anything of real worth here for you aside from memories." Marjolaine let her go and stood up. "But this is not a decision you need to make now. Think about it, sleep on it. Early tomorrow I will be leaving for Val Royeaux, if my offer entices you just meet me in front of the towns hostel, you do not need to bring anything as I will buy you all you need once we reach the city. If you feel this is the best place for you though then simply stay. Do what you feel is best, just do not discuss it with anyone. I would hate for you decision to be influenced by slander and bias. I must be going though, I enjoyed your company and hopefully I will see you tomorrow," She bowed her head and backed out of the room. "Pleasant dreams Leliana."

Night had once again come and engulfed the world; roads still and silent, homes and shops locked tightly with faint glows of light coming from the windows, the night sky bright and clear with the large moon dominating the heavens above. Marjolaine had been standing outside of the hostel for several minutes as she prepared herself, taking in constant deep breaths of the cool night air. Once she felt herself ready she entered the building and took a quick glance around before making her way towards the stairs. Unlike earlier the room was packed, filled with guests from the funeral not quite important enough to warrant a room at the manor. But these people were of little interest to her tonight, grander things were in motion.

"Any news?"

The words Marjolaine heard the moment she opened the door to the room. She glanced towards Janine who sat stiffly in her chair peering out an open window. Besides her stood her body guard, Urbain. A large, bald, hideous looking man with several glaring scars across his face and neck, a punishment received from Janine not too long ago. "Nothing of note Mistress Janine," she answered softly as she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her tightly.

"Nothing of note? Surely there was something of interest."

"I am afraid not. Petty bickering with nothing being accomplished, you know how the nobility are."

Janine turned and glowered at her. "You brought me to this lorn place for nothing? Wasting my precious time for petty bickering?"

"Forgive me," Marjolaine felt herself tremble as Janine's eyes fixated upon her. "I expected a bit more excitement, there usually is."

"Tell me Marjolaine, what have you been doing all of this time if there was nothing of worth to be found? I am sure you could have returned to be much sooner."

"I wanted to be thorough, mistress."

Janine nodded her head. "Urbain came across someone of interest earlier today. It appears Duralle is here as well, but you would certainly know nothing of that now would you."

Marjolaine closed her eyes and prepared herself for the worst. "No, I was not aware of that. With so many of the aristocracy here it would not surprise me."

Janine sighed and she rose from her seat and walked in front of Marjolaine, placing a calloused hand on her cheek. "Ah young love, it fills the brightest and sharpest young ladies with ignorance and carelessness. Why do you lie to me so my dear? Why do you take me for a fool?"

"I do no such thing."

Janine smiled and lowered her hand. "I have been good to you Marjolaine, I have taken you in when everyone else has shunned you. I have put a good roof over your head, I have given you purpose in life, I have allowed you to do what you love. And your payment for such generosity is failure, insubordination, and lies," she looked back up and locked onto Marjolaine's eyes. "But I suppose it is my fault, I have been far to lenient with you. We shall correct your flaws when we return to Val Royeaux though."

"If I may ask, is Duralle dead?"

"Oh no, not yet at least. That is another one of your problems that must be dealt with, he has become far to much of a distraction to your work. Perhaps I will send you to dispatch of him."

"If that is what you wish," Marjolaine said softly.

"So obedient now, it is amazing what a simple threat can do to ones attitude. Or perhaps this is another ruse, it is rather difficult to tell with you at times."

"It is a boon that has proven quite useful many times in my life."

"I am sure it has." Janine turned around and fell back into her chair and once more took to staring out the window. "I do not want this trip to be a complete waste. Go back and find a noble to bed with, see if you can make him squeal something of worth."

"Is there a particular one?"

"I do not care, I am just hoping to salvage something from this useless trip. Fetch me some wine and begone."

Marjolaine bowed her head, walked towards a table in the corner, and poured a bottle of wine into a small silver chalice. She took a deep breath then made her way towards Janine and offered her the chalice.

"Be a dear and take a sip for me."

Marjolaine nodded and obliged her mistresses command, taking a small sip and swallowing. She stood there and waited, the chalice gripped from the top in her left hand, her ring finger gently tapping the inside of the rim. She met Janine's eyes, the woman patiently waiting for any ill signs to come about.

"Good," Janine said as she took the chalice from Marjolaine's hand. "Before we leave tomorrow I want some of the coin Avere owes, if you have to pry it from his corpse then so be it."

Marjolaine nodded and smiled as she watched her raise the chalice to her lips. "Is there anything else?"

"Just do not let me down again."

Marjolaine turned around and made her way to the door, stopping and standing there with her hand on the handle as she heard a hoarse cough erupt from Janine. With a sinister grin she turned back around and stared at Janine, the woman gazing out the window oblivious to her now sealed fate. Around she turned once more, taking a seat at the table and watching as her master turned a scolding gaze upon her.

"What do you think you are doing?" Her eyes suddenly widened in horror as she saw the wicked demeanor in Marjolaine's expression. Quickly she jumped from her chair and threw the chalice of wine at Marjolaine, barely missing her. "Kill her! Run her through!" She shouted in a grating voice as she collapsed to her knees finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Marjolaine giggled as she watched the woman fall to the knees, her hands wrapping around her neck and she tried desperately to loosen her tightening throat. A quick glance at Urbain revealed the man standing there still as stone, horrified and bewildered. Soon however he did managed to break free of his terror induced trance, drawing his sword from it's sheath as he glided towards her. Marjolaine did not flinch, instead she simply smiled and raised her hand. "All I have to do is scream," she stated softly. "Half the men here will come rushing to this room, finding two dead women with you standing over the corpses."

Urbain grimaced as he looked down at Janine, continuing to linger on the edge of life and death with frantic gasps of air being the lone thing keep her alive. "I can tell them you did it."

"And who will they believe? The divine and delicate damsel lying motionless on the floor with a gash across her neck or the hideously disfigured brute standing over her corpse, bloody sword in hand?" She watched as he eased his stance a bit, his gaze franticly switching between her and Janine. "Killing me will not keep her alive, only the Maker knows why you would even want her to stay alive after what she has done to you. There is no need for loyalty, in a moment she will be dead, unable to punish you for disobeying her final command." Marjolaine rose from her chair and walked up the Urbain, gently lowering the sword with her hand so it pointed straight down. "Live or die, I may grant you either one." She whispered as she traced his scars with her fingers.

Urbain glowered at Janine one final time, still struggling to survive. Then he sheathed his weapon and spat on her face before storming out of the room.

Marjolaine smiled and took a knee besides her dying mistress. "Fortunately for you the chantry and pyre are already prepared. Though you have succeeded so well at living amongst the shadows your whole life no one may even care. Perhaps they will simply throw your corpse to the wolves, feed the beasts you held such an admiration for. That would be fitting." She grabbed the woman's thick chin and stared into her wide, bloodshot eyes. "I want you to look at me, I want to be the last thing you see in your final moments. The one who you constantly boasted to about being untouchable, the one whose life you have made miserable, the one who has been waiting for this moment for so long. Look at me, look at me and take the memory my face and bring it to the grave with you, remember it for all eternity." Soon the strained breathes ceased and the head held in her hands slumped. Again Marjolaine smiled, letting go of the head the head and watching it drop to the wooden floor with a thud.

Slowly she stood up and began tidying up the room, tending to anything that was disturbed during the minor scuffle. Once satisfied with the room she tended to Janine's body, undressing her and then stretched her out on the bed under the covers, giving the impression that the woman simply passed away peacefully in her sleep. Marjolaine couldn't help but smile once more, she had been waiting so long for this opportunity to present itself. With a grin and a chortle she left the room, out of a masters service for the final time.

"Insatiable woman!" Avere shouted as he hobbled his way out of his room. "I am going for a walk, be asleep on my return!" The old man closed the door behind him and adjusted his white satin robe to better cover himself and then began wandering throughout the halls of the manor, the sound of his cane tapping against the wooden floor echoing across corridors. Shortly after beginning his stroll however he paused still as stone, feeling as though he was being stalked through the dimly lit halls. Slowly he turned around and not much to his surprise he found a man standing there with in an intimidating pose just a short distance away. He took a few steps closer in order to seek a better view of his face, snickering at what the light came to reveal. "Either Lord Hervé has a tremendous lust for danger or he is a complete fool. Either way he appears destined to an early grave, perhaps I should marry one of my nieces off to him," he said, admiring the man as he stepped further into a lamps radiance, noting an anelace dangling from his belt. "I have seen quite a few of your kind within the estate, though I suppose it was to be expected. So good to see you again Duralle."

"Still having troubles with the fair wife I see," Duralle snickered. "Then again women never were a partiality of yours."

Avere ignored the remark and sighed. "So have you come to amend your failures or is this visit purely social."

"That greatly depends on you."

"Business then, a shame. You will have to forgive me, I have had enough of such nonsense for the day and would like to ease my nerves a bit, perhaps some other time long into the future. Now begone before I summon the guard."

Duralle suddenly lunged forward and kicked the cane out of Avere's hand, the old man immediately crumbling to the ground. Before Avere could make any frantic screams Duralle pounced and clasped his hand over the mans mouth, pressing his anelace against his throat. "This was not optional, either you speak and listen or you die." Duralle made a quick glance down the corridor and then looked back down upon his victim. "Janine is dead." He watched as Avere's eyes widened in disbelief. "The leash you threw around the beasts neck as been gnawed through and she is now roaming free. I will let you go, make a noise and I will finish you off."

"Help me up you fool," Avere snarled as the lad rose off from him. Duralle did as he was asked, fetching the cane and helping the man to his feet. He brushed himself off and then glowered with rage. "Fie on that mongrel bitch, what in the name of holy Andraste does she think she is doing!" Avere tiled back his head as he felt cold steel press against his neck. "Sheath your blade and I shall hear you out," he muttered softly, Duralle complying with the agreement. "Good lad. Now, why do the actions of Marjolaine concern you in the first place?"

"I do not believe that really matters."

Avere nodded. "I suppose the stories are true then?"

"Stories are just that, stories. Fallacy is not an uncommon trait amongst them."

Avere chuckled and propped himself up against a wall. "Romantic, and ironic. Two failures, two fools. Tell me, does denying the love make it more alluring?" He waited for a response but none was granted. "Fine. I assume you are speaking on her behalf."

"In a way, yes."

"Then state your business and begone."

"A simple proposal. You convince the needed people to release her dower and in exchange she forfeits all titles and claims."

"Are you mad!?" Avere threw his free hand in the air as he watched Duralle reach for his blade. "This cannot be done. Her claims are worth nothing, she will never be entitled to anything, if she weds again her titles and claims will become void. It would be impossible to convince anyone that paying a small fortune would be the better option."

"Marjolaine would beg to differ."

"Marjolaine needs to stay out of the politics, she needs to stand in the shadows quietly and continue being the pawn that she is. These grandiose notions of hers are foolhardy and she will gain nothing for herself except death. And you, no doubt nudging her along with these delusional aspirations. Or are you simply her third hand, tasked with her whims and at her beckon call?"

"You know what she will do. You know she will do whatever is necessary to garner what she feels is rightfully hers."

Avere laughed at that thought. "Rightfully hers? And who would come and put the blood on their hands? Both of you have become quite infamous throughout Orlais; you as a failure and she for marrying into the nobility, her young, vibrant, healthy husband mysteriously passing away so soon after their wedding. The two of you can barely breathe without half of the aristocracy knowing. If a move was made by her I would have her head dangling from my chandelier before she could drop a blade."

"Do you think we are not aware of that? Marjolaine has been planning this for months, many of those who worked with Janine have already extended their offers to assist Marjolaine. If she truly wants what she feels is rightfully hers she will see that it is done and all she has to do is sit in the shadows pretending to be the pawn that she is. You know full well what she is capable of when she sinks her teeth into something?"

Avere shook his head. "Lies. Dorine and Sylvie will bleed Marjolaine in the streets when they hear word of her treachery."

Duralle smirked as he pulled his anelace from it's sheath, angling it so the dim light reflected and glowed off the bright steel. "Except they will hear no words. They are no more, all dead. Dorine is dead, Sylvie is dead, Manon as well. I am not quite the failure you believe me to be."

Avere felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine, his hands beginning to quiver. "She has other underlings."

"Do you think they will care? Do you think Janine had this undying love from those under her? Most will seek out another master or work independently, a few may even offer to work with us. But none will shed a single tear for that woman, you know this."

"And you believe this will be allowed to stand?"

"Again who will care? Janine was becoming far to big for her own good and the aristocracy aside from yourself and a few others do not hold any concerns over petty squabbles. So long as there are those willing to bloody and dirty there hands for them then they are quite content."

Avere's expression quickly dimmed into a form stemmed from anger and rage. "I took pity upon that girl," he said, pointing a bony finger straight at Duralle's face. "She should be dead, she should be rotting in a cell or at the very least living on the streets begging for alms. I took pity upon that girl by looking past the accusations and putting her in a position to do what she loved despite the reputation she had garnered. After so much begging and pleading Janine was finally willing to take her in, as useless as she would be to her. I went to great lengths and great expenses to keep her alive and busy, personally giving her tasks that suited her situation. And as thanks, I must suffer through this treachery? My kindness repaid with schemes and conniving? Yet, I am not surprised."

"There is a reason you took pity," Duralle sheathed his blade and began to circle Avere. "You knew she still had use, you knew if she was propped up and supported she could become a great boon one day to a man such as yourself. You did what you did because you knew she had value."

Avere smirked. "Brawn, beauty, and brains. Surprise, surprise."

"I will offer my proposal once more. Grant her the dower and she will renounce her claims."

Avere sighed and nodded reluctantly. "Fine, I will try. And understand it is not my decision to make and try is all I can do."

"Good. When you have your decision you will sit down Marjolaine and make her this very same offer."

Avere looked at him curiously, cautiously. "So this scheme is all your doing?" Duralle nodded and the fury once more began to stir inside of him. "I will not admit defeat to that woman."

"Oh you will, you have no choice in this matter. Do this and I can promise you we will disappear."

"Bah, I tried that when I put her under Janine's tutelage."

"I am not Janine," Duralle replied sharply. "We have a better understanding of each other."

Avere eyed him and nodded his head. "Fine, I agree. Come see me in a month and we will go from there. Now if you will excuse me," he began pounding his cane into the ground as he rushed past Duralle as quick as his frail body could move. "I am going to bed to try and sleep away this wonderful encounter. May the demons and abominations that spew from that woman's womb make quick work of you both," he said with a hiss as he vanished into the shadows.

Marjolaine sat huddled on a bedroll near the small fire she had built in an attempt to keep herself warm amidst the cool night breeze. It had been several hours since she had arrived at the makeshift camp, the moon starting to set indicating just how late in the night it was getting. Her excitement about Leliana and the dispatching of Janine slowly dulled as time went on, finding herself growing more and more worried about Duralle. He was a capable man and could handle himself in most situations, but considering how long she had been here and his promise...

She tried not to think about it too much though, it was bad luck. Instead she continued to snack on various wild berries out of a canikin and sipped on a bottle of wine, all procured by Duralle earlier in the day before he set off on doing whatever it was he was doing. From behind she could hear his horse occasionally snort and neigh, each time provoking her to glance around the pine tree lines, searching to see if the horse sensed friend or foe but it never amounted to anything. Marjolaine turned around and stared at the beast; all brown, big and strong, standing there proud as it grazed about the field. She sighed and took another sip of wine, a light buzz starting to come over here.

Suddenly she heard a few cracks of twigs and dried leaves, heavy footsteps coming her way. But she didn't flinch, she knew those steps well. "I thought you would never been seen?" she asked as a silhouette appeared from out of the trees.

"Huh? You mean Urbain?" Duralle asked as he came sat down besides her, taking the half filled bottle from her hand and taking a sip. "That was on purpose, an added incentive to make sure you went through with it."

"I hope you do not believe I had second thoughts."

Duralle shrugged. "No, must say I did not believe that at all. Speaking of Urbain what did you do with him?"

"I let him go, he is of no harm and we may have use for him later."

"You let him go?" Duralle asked a bit surprised.

"He despised Janine as much as I, he will not speak about this to anyone."

"I hope you are right."

"So where have you been? I have been sitting here alone with your beast for so long waiting for you."

"Something needed my attention as I said. I am sorry it took so long."

Marjolaine eyed him curiously. "You never did tell me what it was that needed such desperate attention."

Duralle sighed. "Fine, there is no point in hiding it anymore, a wench as clever as yourself was bound to find out sooner or later. You see, there is this other woman."

Marjolaine rolled her eyes. "That one did not quite do it. Perhaps you have another to try?"

"Oh but I speak the truth. A divine young lady, soft golden hair and the bluest eyes you have ever seen."

"I assume you are never going to tell me?"

"That is my story and I am sticking to it," he said with a smile.

Marjolaine sighed and rested her head upon his shoulder. "If you feel it is best."

Duralle took a sip of wine and set the bottle down. "Everything went fine?"

"Perfect."

"The girl decided to go with you?"

"I believe she will, she seemed quite eager."

"Good, good. So what is it you plan on doing now?"

"Nothing," Marjolaine whispered. "For now I plan on doing nothing."

"Nothing? That is a rather strange approach for you."

"Perhaps you are right. Maybe I will find myself a charming man with golden blonde hair and blue eyes to spend my nights with."

Duralle looked down and chuckled, Marjolaine doing the same. "I see, point taken." He felt her warm lips upon his neck. "What, no carousing? No dancing?"

Marjolaine giggled. "I had taken care of those by myself while waiting for you."

"I suppose it is a good thing I arrived when I did then."

"Do not be so sure," she whisper, placing a hand on his cheek and pushed his head so that they stared into each others eyes. "Hopefully your 'other lady' did not wear you out too much." She brought her lips upon his, kissing him with a deep, lingering passion.

"Trust me, that was not the case." He whispered as Marjolaine pulled away.

Gently he laid her on her back as they began sliding off each others clothing, remaining there in each others arms as they made love to the gentle sounds of the night.

Marjolaine stood outside the hostel, watching as a pair of young men loaded her carriage with various supplies for the return trip to Val Royeaux. Day had broken several hours ago, the small town was bustling with merchants stocking their stalls and shopkeepers opening shop. The attitude today was nothing like that of yesterday, instead of sorrow and silence there was chatter and laughter. Tragic as their loss was their lives would for the most part go on the same, a shift in a lands owner rarely created any drastic change. She turned her head and peered up at the same window Janine had spent all of yesterday gazing out of. The body still hadn't been found and more then likely it wouldn't be found until she was long gone, not that it really mattered. Finally she looked down the road that led towards the manor, hoping to find a young girl with red hair running down the street. Nothing.

"We are about ready to leave my lady."

The words broke her attentive gaze and she found herself staring at an elderly man. "Fine," she uttered plainly. She walked down the road a bit to allow herself to get a clear view of the southern path out of the village and out on the horizon she saw a tiny figure, a man on horseback, and a smile shot across her face. There she stood and watched it for the few brief moments it remained in sight and then turned and made her way back towards the carriage. "How long can you wait?"

"Not much, we need to part now in order to reach an inn along the highway before nightfall."

Marjolaine nodded and sighed as she accepted the hand of the driver, assisting her into the carriage. ''Wait!'' A tiny shout rang as she was halfway into the carriage. Marjolaine stepped back down and saw the little girl sprinting towards her. She grinned as Leliana came to a dead stop right in front of her, bent over catching her breath. She was a mess, dull cloth clothing and her bright red hair sprayed about, a small square frame held tightly against her chest. "So you decided to come?"

"Yes," Leliana replied through a heavy pant as she stood tall.

"Good. I told you not to bring anything though."

"I know, but this is just the portrait of my mother and I was hoping I could take it along. It is all I brought I promise."

Marjolaine chuckled and rested a hand on the girls tiny shoulder. "That is fine. Come now, we need to get going." She helped Leliana up into the carriage and turned back around to the drive who seemed a bit dumbfounded.

"Err. I was not aware you had a child."

"Yes I know, I apologize. It just slipped my mind. It is not a problem is it?"

"No, no. I just lead the horses, none of my concern."

The driver helped her up into the carriage and bolted the door. Marjolaine took a seat besides the girl who was beaming with joy. "I am glad you decided to come. Have you been to Val Royeaux?"

"Yes Lady Marjolaine. Many times."

"Good," Marjolaine grinned as she tried to straighten the girls hair a bit. "Such a mess," she muttered softly.

"Lord Hervé was not happy that I was leaving and he did not give me a chance to clean myself."

Marjolaine's smiled quickly faded. "Did you tell him you were leaving with me?"

"No. I just said I would be leaving with a minstrel friend to study."

"Good girl," Marjolaine said softly, her smile coming back. "It will take a few days but once we reach Val Royeaux you will begin your new life. A life I am sure you will no doubt come to love."