Summary: Ellana Lavellan was prepared to one day lead her clan, not an organisation swiftly rising to become a prominent beacon of hope in Thedas. Thrust into a confusing world of politics, war, and rampant demons, it is the relationships she makes that will help her survive and put a stop to the madness tearing apart the world.

Unfortunately, Ellana has found herself surrounded by a slew of interesting companions from all walk of life, and navigating those particular relationships might just be more trouble than facing Corypheus and his demon army. [F!Elf!Mage!Inquisitor/Leliana]

A/N: So. Lavellan/Leliana. Because I always wondered. (Also because every time I play, I get the itch to replay Origins just to get Leliana fluff.) Will be more a series of character building, interactions, banter, humor, and fluff, than a full-length retelling. Expect sporadic updates of varying chapter lengths, though I will try not to dip below 2000 words. Also, not beta'd and quickly edited, so probably full of grammatical errors that my brain is adamant on ignoring.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or anything associated with it, nor am I making a profit with this story.

Of Fluff and Feathers

Chapter 1 – Musing and Advice

O-0-o-0-O

Ellana Levallan stilled as her slender yet pointed ears twitched at the faint shuffle of footsteps on carpet, the sound of hushed voices lowered in reverence warning her that someone drew near. Hunching almost imperceptibly, the elf clenched her hand to hide her glowing palm and all but willed the approaching refugees to pass her by without spotting her form amidst the shadows. It took a few minutes for the interlopers' slow meandering to even make it within view of Ellana's hiding spot, yet thankfully the shadows did their job and the elf remained undiscovered.

Relaxing slightly with an inaudible sigh as the couple exited the Chantry, Ellana's vibrant yellow-green eyes fluttered open and settled once more on the similarly hued mark magically etched on her palm. Tracing it lightly with a finger, she winced slightly, a disturbed look flitting across her face. It did not hurt, per se, unless close to a rift – for then the mark burned with a sharp pain not unlike being hit with a particularly powerful lightning spell. But it did feel distinctly uncomfortable as her fingertip ghosted over it, an echo of wrongness and more than a little remembered pain causing her to withdraw her probing digit with a frown.

Sighing once more, this time more drawn out and weary than relieved, Ellana leaned back on her repurposed crate and rested the back of her head against the cool stone, the long pale hair piled atop her head in a hastily constructed bun protecting her from the worst of the chill. Alone with her thoughts once more, Ellana ruminated on the drastic turn her once simple life had taken.

How had things turned so… so complicated? And so fast?

A fortnight ago she had left her clan accompanied by two hunters, tasked with learning what the result of Divine Justinia's conclave would be, and what it would mean for her people. The trip had been swift and uneventful, and the three of them had expected the return trip to be just as easy.

A week ago she had awoken in chains, her head pounding and her body aching as if she had recently been put through her clan's hunter trials, and her two companions nowhere to be seen. Then a sharp pain in the palm of one of her hands would have brought her to her knees had she not already been resting on them, and a bright green glow crackled across her skin – one that had most assuredly not been there the last time she'd looked. And then, to further compound her confusion, not only had she been brusquely accused and interrogated, but she had learnt that everyone that had been at the conclave was dead – everyone excluding her. It did not come as much as a surprise, then, when she also learned that most had taken to laying the blame at her feet.

To further complicate matters, however, her memory of the event was hazy to the point of being non-existent. She remembered reaching the temple, splitting up with her comrades, a glimpse of a warm smile… and then flashes. Nightmare creatures, the urgent need to escape, a figure… It was all jumbled and made little sense, and though Ellana knew she wouldn't have done something as horrid as blow up the conclave, it still disturbed her that she could not prove without a shadow of a doubt – if only to herself – her own innocence.

It was a mixture of her own nature shining through, and wanting to prove herself to her captors, then, that lead to her willingly volunteering to help close the breach in the sky at the very real risk of her own life.

That morning she awoke, again with a pounding head and aching body – an unpleasant sensation she suspected yet fervently hoped would not become commonplace – only to be told that days had passed whilst she slumbered and that their efforts had proven a partial success. The breach was still marring the sky, yet it was no longer growing or spawning smaller yet no less dangerous rifts. Events had quickly escalated after that, culminating in her supposed position as the herald of the Maker's holy wife – a god and position, she was quick to protest, she did not believe in – and part of a newly declared inquisition.

It was all too much for Ellana, who still viewed herself as no more than her clan's First, to deal with, and so she had excused herself to get some air. Word traveled fast, however, and though her reception was mostly much more favorable than when she last awoke, the air of awe and reverence directed her way made the elf distinctly uncomfortable. Compound that with the whispers her sensitive hearing couldn't help but pick up, and Ellana had retreated back within the constricting stone walls of the Chantry to hide, despite the mild claustrophobia many Dalish tended to experience when within such manmade buildings.

"Andaran atish'an."

The sudden voice at her side, soft and lilting though it was, startled Ellana to the point of physically jumping. Long-practiced manners kicked in, causing Ellana to blurt out her response even before she fully turned to face her sudden company. "Andaran atish'an."

Blinking in the dim light, Ellana cocked her head and studied the cloaked figure of the Inquisition's Spymaster. Somewhat belatedly, it registered in the elf's mind that Leliana was the second human that day to greet her in the language of her People, even going so far as to use the more formal greeting to parallel their status as mere acquaintances. Overwhelming curiosity, a trait she was both praised and scolded for in equal measure, caused her to break the brief silence.

"I must say, it's unusual to receive such a greeting when speaking to a human in a human community?" Ellana trailed off, her inflection turning her statement into an open-ended question.

"Oh?" Instead of answering, Leliana instead posed her own question, a shapely eyebrow raising slightly. "And do you often find yourself amongst humans in human communities?"

"I suppose?" Ellana blinked and chewed at her lip for a moment as she turned the inquiry around in her mind. Feeling as if the other woman was dissatisfied with her short answer, Ellana felt no reason not to elaborate and continued honestly. "My clan interacts with humans more frequently than most Dalish do. We even have a rather amicable trading relationship with a few small communities near the forest we call home for most of the year. As Keeper Deshanna's First, I was more often than not part of the trading parties, for both diplomatic and learning purposes."

"I see," Leliana hummed as she critically studied the newly named Herald of Andraste from beneath her cowl. The elven woman was slight of build, her complexion fair and features soft. Approximately half a head shorter than Leliana herself when standing, the seated elf gazed up at the rogue with visible curiosity and confusion shining in her vibrant orbs. While Leliana was more than used to seeing those emotions in her line of work, she could tell that the Herald's weren't tinted with the same fear and greed she was used to associating them with, but instead shone with an innocent honesty bordering on the naïve.

Leliana dealt in knowledge; knowledge was power, and the difference between success and an oft times painful death. It disturbed her, then, that she had so little information on a person so pivotal to the newly declared Inquisition. She refused to allow the world to fall completely into chaos, to trample over the vision of a peaceful world her dear friend gave her life for, and so it was her job to gather the knowledge on how to insure Justinia's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Blackmail, bribery, rewards and threats – all tools Leliana wouldn't hesitate to use, yet without the knowledge to wield them effectively…

At least her preliminary study of the elf had soothed the darker thoughts running through her mind. The younger woman thus far seemed to be astonishingly genuine, wearing her emotions on her sleeve with nary a hint of shady or darker intent behind her words or actions. It was both refreshing to Leliana, and an automatic cause for suspicion. She made a mental note to contact her scouts and informants near the forest Clan Levallan was currently encamped, and have them visit the nearby settlements to validate the elf's story.

"So how do you know of our customs?" Ellana broke the silence hesitantly, aware that she'd not received a proper answer to her earlier question, though not wanting the other woman to feel like she was prying. "I understand why it might behoove Ambassador Montilyet to learn a Dalish greeting, however…?"

"It is obvious, no?" Leliana replied, a slight smirk dancing at the corner of her lips. "Knowledge, and acquiring knowledge, is my job."

Another non-answer. Ellana's curiosity grew, however the Spymaster didn't give her time to form another question, instead abruptly changing the subject.

"What troubles you?" Leliana eyed the younger woman's startled gaze at her abrupt question with a hint of amusement. "As a key member of the Inquisition, lives depend on you being focused, not distracted as you are currently."

"I-," Ellana exhaled before lowering her gaze to her fidgeting fingers, her subsequent mumble carrying a hint of resigned self-deprecation. "Is it that obvious?"

"Perhaps," Leliana nodded slowly, keen eyes observing the elf's body language even as her ears and mind worked to uncover hidden truths. "Though I am more perceptive than most."

"I just…" Ellana frowned and trailed off. Too many doubts and worries floated through her mind. The sorrow of lives lost and lives yet to be lost weighed most heavily upon her, especially with so many falsely looking to her as their salvation. She knew her own inadequacy in that regard; she was no saviour, no Herald, and yet she had agreed to play the part. She was lying, giving false hope, and she feared the day she slipped and was seen for what she truly was. She feared the repercussions it might have for her clan, her family, and the People as a whole.

Mostly, however, she feared failure, and what it would mean for the world.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Ellana asked haltingly. "I'm no Herald of Andraste, no savior. I'm lying, pretending to be something I'm not, and it's… it simply feels wrong."

"You are the Herald of Andraste." Leliana replied simply. Seeing the elf begin to protest, Leliana swiftly cut her off. "To them. The people left confused, left wounded and desolated by the events tearing our world asunder. Whether you are in fact a blessing from Andraste or not is inconsequential, because you are their hope for a resolution to this chaos."

Ellana opened and closed her mouth, mind tumultuous as she pondered the other's words. It made sense, in a way, though the lie still weighed heavily upon her. She felt like she was taking advantage of their vulnerability. "But it's all a lie."

"Not to them, and that is all that matters. Belief of even the possibility of a resolution to this conflict is a powerful tool, and one we must cultivate carefully to avoid mass hysteria." Leliana's words were somewhat cold and, she could see, altogether too clinical to soothe the sentimental elf's conscience. With an internal sigh, Leliana tried a different tactic. "You've not once told them you were Andraste's Herald, have you? Therefore, you have not lied."

"It's a lie of omission," Lavellan retorted strongly with a disgruntled frown, though interestingly enough to Leliana, she did not raise her voice in ire despite her strong conviction.

Another insight into the elf's morals and personality filed itself in the back of Leliana's mind, though it was one she'd have to test out at a later date. Of course Lavellan was correct, it was a lie of omission. It was, however, a necessary lie, and one the Herald would do well to come to terms with sooner rather than later.

"Perhaps," Leliana nodded slightly in agreement. "Though it is necessary, and not only because it is advantageous for the Inquisition's goals."

Ellana pursed her lips and studied the cloaked figure next to her. She wanted to believe that, and on some level she knew it to be true. However, the very thought conflicted with the morals she was raised to honor and continued to leave a sour taste in her mouth and a heaviness in her chest. "Why."

"Would you begrudge them their hope?" Leliana paused for a moment, deciding to shift gears yet again, this time playing on the elf's conscience. It was a form of manipulation, yes, but Leliana well versed in such wordplay and made a conscious effort not to push the Herald too far, especially with her data on the elf far from complete. "After all that has happened, after all that they have lost, with naught but a bleak future ahead, would you begrudge them the comfort of belief?"

Lavellan's expression wavered, and Leliana relentlessly pounced upon the weakness like she was trained to do so long ago, the action all but second nature to her. "Would you scorn a man for drawing hope from an heirloom sword to protect his family? From a child believing their dog will protect them from the horrors they can't comprehend? What manner of fount they draw strength from does not matter, as long as they have the will to continue and the hope that someday their lives shall once again know a semblance of peace."

Seeing the reluctant acceptance, and knowing she had already succeeded, Leliana gentled her voice somewhat. "The Dalish have their own gods, no? To look to for advice and protection? To believe in? To take comfort in? Allow them, then, their own comfort, wherever they may draw it from; whether it be the Maker, his bride Andraste, or the elf that alone was able to stop the breach from expanding and engulfing the world."

"Okay," Ellana sighed, eyes lowered and head bowed. She still felt uncomfortable playing the role, but she heard what the Spymaster was saying. She understood the importance of the role she was thrust in, though she still wasn't going to accept that she was a genuine holy figure like many made her out to be. Oddly enough, she felt the same sense of defeat and acceptance as she would after one of Deshanna's lectures. "Okay. I understand."

"Good," Leliana studied the elf's youthful face before nodding imperceptibly, satisfied with the turn of events. Though still troubled, Lavellan seemed slightly more relaxed. It would take much more time for her – for everyone, really – to really come to terms with recent events, however there was nothing she could do about that. The rest was up to their new Herald to work through on her own. "You should take some time to explore Haven, if you haven't already, and then get some rest. Cassandra plans to set out for the Hinterlands in the morning."

With those parting words, Leliana took her leave, not once looking back. She had done what she could, and learned a great deal about their mysterious Herald, however only time would tell how things would play out. Time – and more detailed information.

Ellana watched as the Spymaster silently slipped out of the Chantry. Left to her own thoughts once more, Ellana glanced at the mark on her palm for a long moment before curling her hand. Grabbing her borrowed staff with the other hand, she used it to hoist herself onto her feet. Clasping the staff onto the back of her coat once more, she stuffed her marked hand in one of the many pockets hidden on her coat. Straightening, Ellana left the comforting darkness and met the crisp coolness of Haven's wintery weather head-on.

Though her ears still twitched and burned from the many whispers, Ellana took comfort in the fact that, if even by a small margin, she wasn't as bothered by them as before.

O-0-o-0-O