Leliana's Song

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any of it's characters or dialogue. All credits go to Bioware.

'Normal' - Storyline/ Leliana Narration

'Italic' - Quotes directly from DA: O

Authoress' Note: Hey everyone! I know I promised to upload this story: 'Leliana's Song' around about March to April time earlier this year but I've been lazy, hopefully I'll upload more chapters from my other stories and more DA one-shots. This story is from Leliana's POV during my first ever play-through of Dragon Age Origins when I chose to become the female City Elf Warden: Kallian Tabris (default name). Hope you enjoy and as always if you find any mistakes I may have missed in my work, simply send me a message letting me know and I'll correct it immediately. Thank you.

XX-XX-XX

'Do you want to know a secret?

This tale of foolish people long ago… I know what happened, and what is true… But I don't know how it should end.

Let me tell it one more time, and perhaps together, we will see.'

XX-XX-XX

We arrived in Ferelden for 'The Game' over four years ago. It is a game completely meaningless to anyone but it's players, but for your sake I will try my best to explain. There is only one rule that we truly abide by: don't ever get caught. Everything else from treachery, subterfuge, humiliation, and murder is all part of the fun as long as you are discreet. After all, the Game is much more than mere combat. We must be careful, vigilant and prepared to do whatever is necessary.

'In Orlais there is much rivalry amongst the Highborn. They fight over land, influence and the favour of the Empress. But they cannot do this openly because it is impolite; and in public they wear smiling faces and pretend to be civil. In secret, they plot and scheme to destroy each other.'' This is the foundation of Orlesian politics which we affectionately refer to as 'The Game.' When nobles wish to act against their brethren, we are quick to heed their call. Think of it like a game of chess, the King being the most powerful piece on the board is limited in his position, but his Queen can move freely on his behalf.

The Highborn of Orlais often seek to discredit each other behind closed doors, so work for us is both plentiful and exciting. We go back and forth between patrons, and the authorities look the other way. It is amusement to say the least, but it is especially enjoyable when we are hired by a noble to publicly humiliate another whose status we have only recently raised. Jealousy is indeed such an easy emotion to manipulate, after all: 'We let Nobles decide who to blame. We are just the enablers of the Game.'

By now your curiosity has probably been piqued, enough to wonder who is it 'We' are? I once told you before that in Orlais, many Minstrels are often just singers and storytellers. But some of them like myself are what are known as Bards. 'Bards are minstrels, and more. Spies as you say. Many Bards work alone, or in small groups, doing the bidding of a Patron who pays for their services.'

I never worked alone. I had my own team of people I trusted with my life. There was four of us when we stepped off the boat onto Ferelden soils all those years ago. Aside from myself, I was accompanied by a young Elven mage we call Sketch; whom I found in Val Royeaux hiding amidst vagrants. He had escaped from the grasp of the Circle's Templars some time ago and was constantly on the run as an apostate. Quite, bookish and nervous around a crowd, he wasn't the Bardic type, but as it turns out these traits gave him a natural edge when one wishes to stay in the shadows. My second companion was a Surface Dwarf with a Penchant for silk Kerchiefs by the name of Tug. Whether he came from it certainly wasn't from Orlais; Dwarfs in the Capital were a rare sight indeed. Like Sketch he was quite; at least until I got to know him that is; then you couldn't shut him up. Tug knew how to talk to the right people in the right way, whether it be in jest or threat, he was always ready for the occasion, especially if a fight would break out shortly after.

Finally, there was Marjolaine. 'She was my mentor and friend. She taught me the Bardic Arts: How to enchant with words and song; to carry myself as a High-born Lady; to blend in as a servant. The skills I learnt, I used to serve her, My Bard-master, because I loved her, and because I enjoyed what I did.' She was everything I wanted to be; commanding fear, respect, and a high price. I thought I knew her; I thought I was what she wanted me to be; I thought I was her 'Pretty thing,' but I was wrong.

I am moving too far ahead of myself, let me return to the beginning of my story; the reason I am telling it to you in the first place. We came to Ferelden to show the clueless aristocracy how Orlais commands 'the Game.' Marjolaine informed us that months of planning and special favours had gone into this expedition, so we were not to disappoint her.

"Everything is waiting for us." She had said, and it was true. The night was ours to play with the unsuspecting nobles of Denerim as we did with the Orlesian High-born before them. While we handled things in the marketplace, Marjolaine disappeared down one of the dark alleyways so that she could settle a personal score of her own. Of what this poor fool had done to deserve my mentor's vengeance I did not know, nor did ask. It was how Marjolaine preferred it.

I told her I was ready for anything, and my heart swelled with pride when she stroked my cheek and smiled. "Of course you are, you're mine," she said as she left us.

Our orders were simple. The clients wanted us to steal what they claimed to be 'their' property in the possession of Ferelden merchants; as well as discrediting a noble's son and a Guard Captain; and finally revenge on a former acquaintance who betrayed us and fled the repercussions in Orlais.

I remember the excitement that night while we chased and cut down each one of our targets. My blood lust soared higher still when we battled with the City Guard that stood on every street corner, waiting to try and stop our nocturnal activities. And I couldn't help but grin from the satisfaction of pocketing the assortment of precious gems and fine silks we took from the locked chests in the marketplace.

However, it was at that point that something completely unexpected disrupted our raid. I was knelt in front of a Trader's strongbox, when I heard a piercing shriek, followed by a commotion of angry voices that made me pause and lower my lock-pick with a frown. The noise came from just outside the Denerim Alienage. I couldn't see the disturbance, so I looked towards Sketch and Tug who only shrugged, unsure of what it was either. At first I was curious as to who on earth other than ourselves would be causing such a scene late at night. Then I remember Marjolaine and was suddenly afraid. Could she had ran into trouble without us? No, not Marjolaine, surely not.

With neither thought nor care, I raced across the marketplace towards the source of the trouble. The others didn't question my action and just followed my lead, drawing their weapons as they moved. I turned the corner into the entrance of the Alienage and saw three Elven children squirming in the grip of a handful armed guards. With their small teenage frames and short haircuts, it was hard to tell in the poor light whether they were male or female. But after a closer study of the children, I saw that one was a young boy and the other two were girls. We hid at the edge of the corner and watched as the guards dragged their struggling charges away from the safety of the Alienage. I heard Sketch gasp behind me when the torch the guards carried lit up the bruising face of the boy. Tears shone in his blue eyes as he desperately tried to push away the fist clutching his auburn hair.

"Please Serah! Let us go home! We've done nothing!" The boy pleaded only to have the guards sneer at him in disgust. One of the girls started trying to kick her capturers in the shin and wrench her arms free. I recall thinking what a little spitfire she was with her flaming red hair and snarling expression.

"Let me go, Shem!" She screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Stop that you little knife-eared brat! They'll string you up for this for sure you thieving guttersnipes!" the guard captain snapped.

"We're not thieves!" the boy shouted.

"You expect us to believe that! Then what were you doing snooping around the Arl's castle hmm? Enjoying the view? And all this trouble in the market, that was probably you an' all!"

"Yeah! And even if it weren't, we need someone to blame for this mess." The guards laughed amongst themselves and for the first time I felt a twinge of guilt. I was accustomed to others being punished for my crimes, but these were children. Children who could even be executed for our raid tonight. And because they were Elven children, no human noble in their right mind would listen to a word they had to say in their defence. I was torn, part of me wanted to walk away and leave them to their fate. But for some reason, I stayed, and I watched.

"That's got nothing to do with us! We only went to the castle to-"

"No Shianni! You mustn't!" the boy begged cutting off the red-headed elf.

"Quiet lad! Your friend wants to confess here," the guard captain slapped the youth twisting in his grasp and looked over at the girl with a smile. "Now what was it you wanted to say?"

I watched the one called Shianni look from the boy to her other female companion in wordless panic. It struck me odd that in all this time, the child had neither spoken nor struggled against their capturers. I couldn't see her properly, as out of the three of them, she was the most hidden in the shadows. She seemed quite relaxed and there was something familiar about the way she blended in with the darkness around her. For a fleeting moment, I really wanted to see her face.

"I- We- That is… You Shems took our Auntie away from us! And we want to know what you've done to her!" Shianni exploded, trembling all over.

"So then, not thieves. But still criminals! Attempting to aid and abet the escape of a convicted prisoner! If you really wanted to see them so badly, then you'll get to spend the rest of your short lives with them before you're all sentenced."

"No! You can't do this! Father! Uncle Cyrion! Someone please help!" the boy cried out towards the Alienage and was promptly slapped again into silence.

"Another outburst like that lad and I'll cut off one of those ears!" The captain snapped shaking his charge violently. I was then that I noticed, that while the group of guardsmen focused their attention on the sobbing youth and the hysterical girl, none of them noticed that the other girl-child with them, had ghosted out of her capturer's hands and faded into the dark around them. Only a trained eye like mine could have spotted the girl slipping away undetected to the side and drawing what looked like a wooden sword from inside her shirt.

Quick as whip, she stepped back into the light behind one of the guards and struck the back of his knee with her weapon. He cried out in pain and crumpled to the floor. The other guards were so startled they let go of the other two elves who wasted no time in running back towards the Alienage. The boy stopped and turned back, encouraging the young Rogue girl to follow.

"Come on Cousin! Now's our chance!" To my surprise, his 'cousin' shook her head and stood her ground as the guards recovered themselves.

"Run Soris! You and Shianni find my father or uncle Valendrian! I'll hold them off!" she ordered in a voice that seemed well accustomed to being obeyed. The boy -Soris- hesitated for a moment before darting off after the little red-head elf.

"Please don't die cousin! I'll try to find help!" I could hear him yell as he fled.

"You knife-eared bitch! I'll teach you!" The guard captain drew his longsword and advanced on this elven maiden. She backed away but did not lower her wooden sword. I admit I was fascinated by her tenacity; her spirit; and she seemed talented enough with a blade that made me think have her sword being made of steel she might have stood a chance against these guards. It was obvious to me, that someone must have trained her in those roguish skills, just as Marjolaine had once taught me. But she was still so young; her abilities had not yet developed into her own style of swordsmanship. They were still mechanical, too freshly learnt and not completely understood.

In the end, I had no alternative. I had to save her, to guide her, just as I had been by Marjolaine.

I emerged from my hiding place with Tug and Sketch and cut the guards down where they stood. We had the element of surprise and they- well, they had no idea what hit them.

When it was done and I was once again splattered with blood, I looked to the aspiring Rogue I had saved, and for the first time, I saw her. Peachy complexion, delicate elven face with a rosy blush, soft dark blond hair that would almost have made her brunette, and a pair of the prettiest eyes I'd ever seen. Blue-grey orbs, wide and confused, looking up at me, wondering whether she was to be my next victim tonight. I sheaved my swords and gave her my most reassuring smile.

"It's alright. You are safe now. You should go back home to your father and mother, they must be very worried," I told her.

"The guards took my mother away a week ago. I was trying to find her at the Arl's castle when those stupid Shems started chasing us back to the Alienage," the girl scowled in front of me, gripping her wooden sword tighter between her small hands.

"I'm very sorry to hear that. But you have to go back home before anymore guards come by." I saw the uncertainty in her cutely scrunched up face as she pondered my warning. "Wherever she is, I'm sure your mother would not want you to get hurt or arrested because of her, no?"

My additional comment was enough to turn the girl on her heels and sprint towards the entrance of the Alienage. All of a sudden, she stopped dead and turned back to look straight at me with a serious expression.

"Hey Lady! Thank you." And she was gone back into the shadows of her home. I thought that would be the last I ever saw of that child. So I carried on with Marjolaine's instructions and forgot all about her for the time being.

XX-XX-TBC-XX-XX