The vellum in her hands was worn. The writing was smudged, barely readable any longer. Over the last year, every since she'd joined the Inquisition as spymaster, Leliana had held onto that small strip of paper in the hopes that the words scribed on it would bring her peace. Bring her hope. Now as it lay on her desk, thread worn and illegible, all it brought her was pain.
She had memorized the words. Each one was burned into her mind as if the quill had etched them there instead of the vellum. The Hero of Ferelden, the Grey Warden whom had stopped the Blight in Denerim over ten years before, the woman she loved… was gone.
Leliana,
News has reached me of Divine Justinia's fate. I wish I had been there with you. I sadly cannot tell you where I have gone, but I assure you, our time apart will end soon. Every day, my search brings me closer to an answer. I will not fail you. I promise, Lels. I will come back to you. I do not feel complete without you by my side. I will make us whole again one day.
Fight the darkness inside of you, my love. I know that Justinia's death must make you question your faith, the Maker, and the role he might have played in this tragedy, but know that no matter what happens, you shall always have me and my undying love.
Yours always,
Ryra
She had failed. Vanryra had failed her. The Calling had taken her love before the cure had been found and now, despite the Inquisition's demands, Leliana felt defeated. She had suffered much over the years she'd lived. Marjolaine and her games. The destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry. The death of Divine Justinia.
The only thing that had keep her hoping for a better life was Vanryra Brosca. The Warden who had saved Thedas would find a way to save herself, if for nothing else but Leliana and their love. She had promised.
Leliana knew better than to believe the promises of a dying woman. Vanryra would have given her anything: the sun, the stars, even the Golden City itself to see Leliana smile. The only thing that Leliana had truly wanted was dead. Laying in some darkspawn tunnels, being feasted on by deepstalkers and spiders.
Tears running down her flushed cheeks, Leliana lifted the withered paper and held it towards the flame of the candle on her desk. The dried vellum caught fire quickly as if it hungered for the words scrawled there. As she let the burning sheet float to the cold stone floor,she imagined what could have been. What life she and her love might have had if only the Maker had allowed her some peace. When the flame finally burned out, the tears would stop.
Leliana would be left with her ghosts, with her sorrow, with her hate. It was all that would sustain her now.