They had not taken two steps out of the grand hall before Macha tried her best to oh-so-subtly shift her cloak around her shoulders just so it covered the Warden insignia she had embroidered on the left breast pocket of her dress. Her fingers toyed with the hood bunched up around her collar anxiously, waiting for the first gust of breeze for the excuse to flick the tip of the hood over the top of her head. It was unlike her to be so secretive about her affiliation and that worried Leliana. However, the utter lack of grace in her casual motions and the distinct nervousness in the way her eyes tracked the movements of the chantry sisters in the great domed building worried her more. If Macha was nothing else, she was a master of the game. This was sloppy.

The bard silently directed the two down the twisted passages made of too much marble to feel warm until she'd found her quarters. Macha gave her only a road-weary smile as encouragement and mentioned nothing of disguise. Another pang of worry struck through the Divine's heart. She very quickly changed into the chantry robes she'd worn when the treasonous Warden Tabris stumbled into Lothering so many years ago.

"I-it's a good look. The robes, I mean," the Grey Warden stammered peculiarly. Behind her, her traveling companions snickered. Leliana didn't have to be trained to know when to look for a telltale blush. "On you! I mean. I should have specified, since it's. Y'know. Uniform, right? Is it uniform? Is that the correct word?"

The elf's ears were about as flat as they could presumably be and she fiddled with the armour she apparently slept in. "You are certainly charming, aren't you?" The question was rhetorical, but Leliana swore she watched the other woman's pupils dilate. "Just robes, I'm afraid. Nothing fancy."

Silken and red, they looked like nothing particularly out of the ordinary but some quick prodding told Leliana that the leather guards she'd stitched in herself were still as present as ever. It felt odd, looking in the mirror to see a much older version of the girl she had been; like staring at her own imposter. The seams on the hips tugged tight as they did around her arms. It was not too much as to be uncomfortable, but it was more than enough to remind her exactly how long it had been since she'd taken up arms.

Paranoia still crept along her veins without slow, so she had already had a necessities pack (crossbow and knives included, of course) hidden towards the bottom of her closet. Ironically, next to the fancy blue shoes she'd worn to her coronation. She'd have considered the symbolism more, if she didn't feel the urgency tugging at the lines around her tired girlfriend's eyes. One purple scarf wrapped around her head in the fashion of a chantry habit and she skittered back out into the hallway.

Macha's eyes immediately darted to the scarf, and an eyebrow shot up. "Are we in hiding?"

"I only wished to match your own hood," Leliana returned dryly. "Or are you perhaps cold in the middle of the summer?" She did not miss the elf's wince.

"I, well… that's fair."

"We are nowhere close to fair yet, Macha." Leliana's voice didn't rise above a harsh whisper, but still Macha looked worried at her name being spoken. It was like someone had replaced the brilliant political tactician with a skittish child. "Once I know more, perhaps we can re-negotiate."

Macha's lips pressed into a thin line and she nodded tersely. She turned away strategically to avoid Leliana taking in more of her tells. She no longer pretended to need guiding down the halls of the Grand Cathedral.

The night air was a surprising relief when it came. They'd dallied way too long in the stables to leave before dusk, but Macha had insisted on taking the most non-descript mules and chubby ponies over the well-bred stallions. Leliana argued speed and strength; surely necessities on a mission of such importance but the elf stubbornly refused. She insisted that she was not about to 'borrow' fine horses from the Divine herself. Girlfriend, or otherwise.

Though she did appear somewhat regretful (more specifically, green) as her pony heaved and bobbed its way onto the unpaved road to the Frostbacks. She babbled on and on about Orzammar and the crisis of the deep roads that was shaking King Bhelen to his ill-tempered core. There had been an undocumented thaig found, something further beyond where they had fought Paragon Branka. They had, unfortunately, also found Branka's grave. And there was very little akin to a make-shift grave over a battered corpse to make it very clear the Paragon had not died from starvation. In fact, Bhelen was claiming Macha's own dagger had been found lodged in the dead woman's ribs.

It was possible, of course. But doubtful. As squeamish as the elf was about violence, she rarely did something so reckless as to leave evidence of her own regrets. And Leliana would've remembered having big brown puppy eyes asking her to destroy the corpse for her, if she had thought it absolutely necessary.

"—and he's saying that not just me, but all Wardens are responsible for her death. Absurd, I know, since I was a traitor—technically—but it seems to be a popular opinion these days." Macha's brow was furrowed and her lower lip stuck out in a pout. The orange sunset danced like fire in her eyes as she continued. "After the incident at Adamant with Clarel, I'm not sure he's wrong. Regardless, the key to resolving this issue does notlie in tearing up those ancient contracts. Do they think the blights will simply stop because they find it inconvenient? It's lazy politics, honestly."

"Are you not exiled from Fereldan?" Leliana interjected suddenly.

Macha scowled at her. "I thought the Inquisition was disbanded?"

"It was," Leliana agreed, "But there hasn't technically been an official retraction of the sentiment."

"Hm," Macha focused intently on her gloved hands on the reigns. A wry smile teased at the corner of her mouth. "I don't think I'm being optimistic when I believe the King would allow me to remain as an exception."

Leliana snickered. "I doubt Alistair could manage to exile you even if he did want to."

The elf made a play at looking offended but dissolved quickly into giggles. She slouched forward in her saddle and her shoulders sagged beneath the weight of her travel sack. Still, her eyes watched the trail ahead of them like she was expecting an ogre. She'd changed from the embroidered dress entirely in favor of one with no markings. Unless someone were to search the side satchels slung across the pony's back for weaponry, there was no indication that the tiny elf was anything more than an Orlesian citizen travelling with a Sister for holy protection. And even if they did find her quill of arrows, Leliana doubted a normal highway guard would immediately assume she was lethal with them.

A mistake on their part, but a safe one to make. Macha would rather die than kill, if killing was avoidable. Leliana felt her own features sour and focused on the road ahead of them.

"Am I to know what I'm protecting you from, at least?" Leliana prodded. She didn't have to look to see Macha's back straighten and her face to fall into a carefully neutral expression.

"Your own worry, I believe," Macha teased. "Something about a guard willing to travel for free? The Divine herself recommended you."

"Hah hah," she returned coldly. "Very clever."

"Alright, alright," the Warden Commander conceded. "For now, just worry about Bhelen trying to poison me from the shadows before I can even address the issue at hand. Though I do want to make it very clear that that requires defense only, Leli."

"Sometimes the best defense is a pre-emptive offense."

Macha scowled openly at her. "This is not one of those instances. We can handle this like civil people." She halted her lecture suddenly, and frowned like she was remembering something unsavory. "That being said… I uh. Well. We may have some… questionable company."

Leliana didn't humour her with a response. She lifted a single eyebrow and stared pointedly at the elf until she fidgeted.

"I required the talents of the Champion of Kirkwall—"

"Luca Hawke?" Leliana nearly fell off her saddle. "The famed apostate, blood mage known for setting her own city ablaze?"

"That seems harsh, love." Macha scolded only half seriously. "The blaze was hardly intentional."

"Oh, good." Leliana's eyes narrowed on her. "Then we can tell Bhelen the massacre of his city was an accident."

Macha did look offended then, snapping her head to meet her girlfriend's gaze directly. "Don't be crude. I didn't hire her for violence and I made it very clear that she was to remain out of Orzammar entirely until we send for her."

"We?" The bard caught the word like a note off-key. "I thought you had planned to venture alone?"

"I had." Macha looked back to the trail. "I doubt the letter I've written will read any different unless you wish for me to include the Divine's greetings?"

Touchy.

Leliana fell silent again and tugged her scarf closer around her to fend off the biting chill in the wind. She had not missed this part of adventuring, nor was she looking forward to sleeping on the rocky ground. It was harder to convince herself of its necessity when she knew of her chambers decked out with soft feather pillows back in Val Royeaux. The beast beneath her kept trudging along the road nonetheless, ruthlessly tearing her away from the life of a civilian. She looked at the tether between the two ponies and noted the slight lead taken by Macha's own mount. She wondered dismally how long it would be until she could convince her to rest.

For camp or forever? The thought came unbidden and filled her mind with pictures of townhouses in city center, canoe rides into the harbour, leisurely days spend tasting the foods and wines across the world they'd worked so hard to save. The image of mabari puppies and homemade breads only served to sour her mood further. Macha would be cold in the ground before she gave up on this stupid world, she knew. At the very least she could delay that day for as long as possible.

"I'm sorry, love," Macha's voice was quieter. It matched the sounds of the hills around them in softness. "I don't mean to fight after having been away for so long. I've missed you so terribly and…" She paused, savouring the break and finding the right words. Even casually, Leliana thought. It was as charming as it was irritating. "...and I am admittedly nervous."

"About Bhelen?" Leliana blinked. "He couldn't find his way out of a paper bag if Celene herself rose from the dead to shown him the hole in the back of it. You could play the Game in circles around him, Peaches."

The elf's cheeks flushed and she bit her lip to keep from smiling too broadly. Relaxation threatened to tug her back down into a comfortable slouch, but Macha remained stubbornly upright. "Thank you, Leli. I hope you're right."

"And this non-violent job you have for Hawke… I assume she knows already to be discreet?"

Macha did laugh at that. "Of course! Lovely woman, and her family is certainly… close," she said tactfully. Leliana snorted. "But she is not exactly known for blending in. I advised them to remain in New Lothering until I sent for them formally."

"Them?"

"I am not so foolish as to assume Hawke would come alone," A tight smile matched with a tired look rested all too comfortably on the elf's features. "Especially after Adamant."

Leliana nodded thoughtfully. "And she knows this is to be a non-violent mission?"

"Well," Macha winced, "mostly."

Leliana grinned something fierce and toothy. "Am I to understand that Macha Tabris, Exiled Warden Commander and Hero of Fereldan is hiring the Champion for nefarious deeds?"

"Oh, come now—"

"And here you are lecturing me about civility!" Leliana laughed. She mimicked her lover's cross between an Orlesian and Fereldan accent with ease. "Don't just stab your problems, Leliana! Use your words, Leliana! Oh I would never kill an innocent, Leliana!"

"Well technically Branka is already dead, so no killing is to be expected." Macha bristled. "But if such complicated matters arise, for example my dagger actually being lodged in her chest, we would be wise to bring someone with us capable of removing such evidence."

"Ah," the bard nodded and tucked her braid back behind her ear. "Such as a skilled healer and blood mage. Interesting."

"Necessary," Macha corrected wearily. "Believe me, I tried to find a way around it. Though it is rather comforting to know that the famed mage and her spouses will be with us in the Deep Roads." She smiled and reached out to Leliana and waggled her fingers meaningfully. Leliana laced their fingers together. Macha's hands were so much smaller, browner and more calloused than the hands of the Divine. They were warm and immediately she felt more at home. The elf continued absently, "As I believe you are fond of reminding me, the darkspawn do not take kindly to politics."

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A/N: We're going to have a brief cameo of Nebulad's Hawke, and the murder spouses (Rees and Fenris). For clarification, they're a part of an ongoing AU (or, more accurately, a refusal to recognize canon) where my original Hawke (Rees) is a companion to Nebulad's Hawke (Luca), and a member of a polyamorous relationship including Fenris and Isabela. It's a lovely little violent family and allows me to have Rees be Vashoth; which fits her so much better.

Though, don't worry, the details of the situation won't matter too much. If you're curious, we've done lots of fics with the murder family! It won't be explored a whole lot in this particular fic though. This one is definitely focused on Sappy Political Girlfriends™.

Oh, and before I forget, thanks for the favs and follows! It means the world to know people are reading. I'll update soon!