Oh maker, oh maker, it wasn't supposed to happen like this. I sent her to leave the letters and she looked at them, why did she look at them. After everything my sweet girl did for me, why did she have to draw the line at treason. She should have known that the game is bigger than me and her and us, and that just as she had me pulling her strings, I had someone pulling mine. My fault, yes, it was my fault but none of this was my idea. And not what I wanted.

The choice was clear. Betray her. Give the letters to the wrong person. Paint her as the traitor. Cruel, yes. Evil, yes. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Stab her for extra measure. To make it believable. Cruel smile, cruel eyes. I play the part so perfect, stabbing her in the back.

They might have raped and tortured her, but they wouldn't kill her, they promised me that. And I knew that one day my nightingale would escape. She would be alive. She would walk away from all of this alive and free and not in the claws of the people upstairs. And for that I would have given anything. Including her love for me.

Her blood. Her wide eyes. Her apology. She shouldn't have been sorry, she was perfect. It hurt to hurt her. I might as well have stabbed myself, like I continously did the following months. I cut myself until I had no unmarked skin left. And I still have so much to atone for, Leliana, Leliana, Leliana, Leliana. Can you just come and kill me already to get it over with? I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you ma cherie.

And I'm sorry.