"What do you mean, you've known all along where she is, what she's doing? We have the only senior warden wandering the Fade for months now, and it's only today when you told me that the flaming Hero of Ferelden has been within our reach all along?"
The Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan, stormed out of the war room in frustration. "Wait, Inquisitor!" Josephine ran after her. "You must understand, Warden Cousland is also Ferelden's Queen, and she's not known to relish her Warden ties…"
The echoes of the two women's voices and shoes in the corridor had faded before Cullen faced Leliana, who was unusually silent.
"She'll be alright, after eating dessert," Cullen told Leliana kindly. "If not, I'll talk to her."
"No, she's right," Leliana admitted. "I really should have told her, and she needn't have found out from Morrigan."
"She's just upset with what happened at the Storm Coast," Cullen explained. The Inquisitor's potential alliance with the Qunari died when she opted to save the Chargers instead of proceeding with the original plan. Evie Trevelyan had wanted to discuss how to mitigate losses with her advisors upon her return, but the Empress's advisor, Morrigan, had ambushed her and distracted her with the whereabouts of the Hero of Ferelden.
Leliana understood that the Inquisitor had all the right to be angry. But the Spymaster never really wanted to talk about the Hero of Ferelden, not to the Inquisitor, not to anyone—and she never made the connection between the Grey Wardens and Corypheus until after Adamant.
"Go to her, Cullen," Leliana said kindly, and she meant it. "She will want to talk to you, vent out her anger with her inept spymaster."
"Evie's not really angry, and you're not inept," Cullen declared.
"Did we make a mistake, appointing such a young, sheltered mage noble to be Inquisitor?" she inquired.
"She's doing her best, Leliana," Cullen said softly, but Leliana could hear his conviction behind it. The man was in love with their Inquisitor, after all. And when all was said and done, Trevelyan did manage to succeed in their efforts against Corypheus.
Leliana understood the rebuke in Cullen's voice.
"Don't think I don't understand where you come from, either," Cullen continued. His fingers traced Denerim in their war table map. "After the Blight, I was accused of murdering two Circle apprentices. The mages, recently heroes of Denerim and declared under the protection of the Crown, demanded that I be sent to Aeonar. The Chantry refused to investigate. But Queen Lucilla decreed that Fereldan mages were Fereldan subjects, and rightfully under her authority to judge. She sent a young woman, known for her ties to the Chantry but still very high in her confidence, to investigate."
Leliana smiled. She did not think that Cullen knew of that.
"You brought me to Denerim, per her instructions. And you told her that there were no murders in Kinloch, only escapees," Cullen said. "And then she took your hand, and I knew by the looks you exchanged that there was something between you. You see, when Fereldan mages and templars are not busy killing each other, they tend to gossip." Cullen's voice was lighter now.
"There's nothing between Lucilla and me now, Cullen," Leliana countered.
"Not now, perhaps," Cullen acceded, with the wisdom of a man who knew love.
Leliana had always known where the Hero of Ferelden was. How could she not? She had known that woman like she did the back of her hand, once upon a time—before their choices led them apart. They had met during the Blight, and they were inseparable in the coming months. Leliana saw in Lucilla Cousland everything she wanted with a lover—a fellow tortured soul, a companion in her dreams. Someone to sing a duet with, as Lucilla had put it. They shared a tent for months, and Lucilla did everything to keep her happy. Until she did not.
The Spymaster took out a box from her desk, and blew months' worth of dust from its lid. Inside were a dried but beautifully preserved sprig of white flowers and some handwritten notes. A tear escaped her left eye when she remembered the last time she saw Lucilla—the last time she held Lucilla, just a few short months ago. The beautiful Queen knew how she had hurt Leliana, and she held her beloved bard in her strong arms that night.
Lucilla had tried to apologize, but she did not say the things Leliana had always wanted her to say: I am refusing my duty and birthright to be with you, now.
The Queen never would.
Leliana suddenly wished she were a mage, to be able to conjure flames with a snap of her fingers. She wanted to burn the contents of the box, but she knew that in the intervening time for her to walk towards the nearest candle—the one in the small altar to her right—she would probably have lost the conviction to burn what little memento she had of her old lover, as she remembered Lucilla's long dark hair, her equally dark eyes, the way she looked when she was naked or when she was sparring or when she was just standing.
Leliana sighed, uttering a quick but blasphemous prayer: Oh, Maker, you and your cruel jokes! And with her usual ruthless efficiency, she slammed the box shut, and proceeded to summon her best agents to track that horrible, beautiful woman.
Cassandra soon sought Leliana out in her rookery. The two Hands of the Divine were close friends, but there were things Leliana could never mention to her colleague.
Still, that did not stop Cassandra from putting two and two together. The Seeker approached Leliana as she sat before Andraste's altar.
"Evie's no longer angry," Cassandra said simply as she lit another candle. "She'd make a show of it, but truly, she is not. She was just disappointed that an acquaintance informed her of things earlier than a friend did."
"Truly, I never made the connection between the Wardens and Corypheus until after Adamant," Leliana admitted. There were precious few things she could keep from Cassandra. "I tried to find a less humiliating way to tell her. It's a shame Morrigan got to her first, but it will never happen again."
"The witch is sneaky and I don't like her," Cassandra declared.
"You don't like her because she's an apostate and she dresses scandalously," Leliana dared, a small smile on her lips.
"I do not judge people that way!" Cassandra said, aghast. "I like Evie and Solas, and they're mages. Even Dorian, but don't tell him that. They're all decent people. I don't like Vivienne and Morrigan, not because they're mages, but because they're not decent people. But don't distract me, Leliana."
The soothing fragrance of myrrh and wax reminded both women of Divine Justinia. For Cassandra, the Divine was always a pillar of strength. Of what is just, of what is right. But for Leliana, Justinia was a woman who needed protection, so that she could work her reforms in relative peace. Leliana silently silenced her dissenters. Justinia would have done what was right, what was just, if the world had let her be.
"Divine Justinia knew what the Fereldan Queen meant to you, Leliana," Cassandra whispered, her hand patting her friend's. "She knew how you missed your Lucilla, but she also understood that the queen hurt you terribly. Sometimes, I think she also asked herself if she was doing what that queen did, to you."
"Divine Justinia never needed to think that," Leliana said, and she gripped Cassandra's hand. They both loved Justinia and in moments like these, they mourned her together.
"I don't like it, but I'm royalty, too," Cassandra whispered. "Royal minds work strangely—if they are working as the Maker intended them to be." The protector of the people. Leliana was always fascinated by Cassandra's notion of the nobility as protectors of the people, even if she disagreed. Royals and nobles do what they want to do, not what they have to do.
Until Leliana remembered the tremendous efforts being put by the noble members of the Inquisition—how they were working just as hard as everybody else.
"Did I fail Lady Trevelyan with my weakness?" the Spymaster asked the Seeker.
"No," Cassandra answered firmly. "One mistake in judgment is not a weakness, Leliana."
Josephine fussed over Leliana, and the Inquisitor at times. "Lady Trevelyan's isn't angry. She's just very frustrated that her recent plans are not going her way. That's also why I'm working overtime to please her."
"The Inquisition does not exist for the Inquisitor's pleasure," Leliana asserted.
"Stop it," Josephine snapped. "Anyway, I contacted King Alistair, asked if his wife has told him anything remotely connected to the Wardens—"
Leliana fell silent at the mention of that name.
"I'm sorry, I should have known," Josephine said. Like Cassandra, the Ambassador guessed enough of what transpired between Leliana and Queen Lucilla. "The King prepared this himself, I think." Leliana saw Alistair's gold seal, broken in half, and recognized his handwriting straight away.
"No, it's alright," Leliana said briskly. "What did the Fereldan king say?"
"He and the queen knew very little about Warden secrets," Josephine said cautiously. "They learned what they could of a mage called Avernus, who eventually disappeared. Eventually, the Queen grew obsessed with the Calling and with her short life span, so she went to look for a way to reverse it. The King also tells us that he would be willing to answer any questions we have about the Wardens, should we wish to ask."
"The Inquisitor will want to know that," Leliana said hastily, decidedly looking away. "The King is a good man and ally against Corypheus."
"There's more for you, Leliana," Josephine added. "He wishes you well."
"Write back and tell him likewise," Leliana said flatly.
Evie Trevelyan observed the grey seal—laurel leaves encircling the two royal Ferelden mabari—that the Spymaster handed her with firm hands.
"I apologize for how we left things at the last war meeting," the Inquisitor said. "I didn't know how to handle stress better."
"No harm done, Your Worship," Leliana answered sweetly. It could have easily been a lie, but it wasn't—Leliana knew she was at fault as well. It was her duty to tell the Inquisitor what she knew, or guessed, about the Wardens.
Cullen had told Evie of the secret history of the Hero of Ferelden and the Inquisition's Spymaster. Evie wanted to hug Leliana and assure her that she would never have acted the way she did had she known who the Hero was to Leliana. The difference in their rank and the formality of the war room prevented her, however.
"All right, here goes," Evie stated before opening the parcel. Inside was an amulet of sorts, and a letter.
"She… doesn't really know anything," Evie lamented. "Oh Leliana, I'm so sorry, so sorry. She hopes we succeed against Corypheus, apologizes that she can't help much, that she is on her own quest to reverse the Taint, begs us to help keep Ferelden safe—Josie, Cullen, you handle that bit—she wants to see her king again, and, oh!"
Evie handed the letter to Leliana, all thoughts of rank and formalities gone. She was going to offer Leliana a cup of tea and her best cookies after this meeting, or whenever Leliana would recover her composure.
"I have hurt Leliana terribly, and I was glad when I heard she found her strength with Justinia and her faith. But the Divine's death shook Leliana's very core. I beg you, if she is faltering, help her find her way back into the light. I may never live long enough to do that."
Leliana excused herself early to find a quill and parchment.