by Twisted Eternal Wolvetta
and Harmonium-Kruger
Leliana's Mercy
Measured Steps
"And just like that, you recited the chant?" Cassandra questioned, staring at the bard oddly.
They were still camped in the Emerald Graves. Continuing the expedition with Mercia injured was completely out of the question. If they were to be ambushed again, or needed a rift closing, then what? At least here, they had something to do.
"What can I say? She is the one that started it." Leliana's lips twitched, her blue eyes settling upon the Inquisitor. Sat by the central fire with Cassandra, insect life surrounded them. Her ears reacted to the nightlife, but her attention was set on Mercia.
The lightly injured woman was outside with them. But she was unconscious, and in her bedroll. She was a good ten feet or so away, and her back faced them. But even still, Leliana couldn't take her eyes off the sleeping Inquisitor.
"That almost sounds like a comparison." Cassandra cocked a thin brow, glancing from the Inquisitor to Leliana. "Except with you playing the part of Andraste, and her the Maker. As blasphemous as that sounds." She quickly added, crossing her arms. It was clear that the seeker was restless; But surely even she needed a rest after three giants?
The older woman was never content with lying around. Let alone when things required her attention. Leliana was similar in this respect, but they couldn't overwork themselves. This was a rare break due to their situation.
Perhaps their last one had been those hours after losing Haven? "I needed to inspire her in some way." Leliana responded in thought, glancing to Cassandra. "Something is on your mind?"
Cassandra gave a dry smile, shaking her head. "I can't get anything past you." She chuckled, suddenly finding the dirt interesting. "I wonder about you, and the Inquisitor. Yesterday, when I found you and her together. It made me think."
"Think? About what?"
Within this simple camp, Sera was nowhere to be found. Neither woman knew where the human-trained archer was. They could only assume the blonde was nearby. For what she was doing, was another question entirely. But either way, they were given privacy to speak.
"I found the Inquisitor- Merica is much more human than meets the eye." Burning her gaze into the soil by her feet, Leliana paused. She was still in a state of undress, but didn't care for it. Even within the night, the Emerald Graves was an oddly humid location.
"This place is so opposite from Skyhold." Leliana commented, chuckling softly. Cassandra nodded, if not solemnly. There must be more on her mind. "What had you thinking from seeing us? Are you finally going to give into one of your many suitors?" Amusement reigning, Leliana lifted from the crate she sat atop.
The seeker gave a disgusted noise, rolling her eyes. "No." She firmly spoke, uncrossing her arms. "But… does that mean you two are-?" She perked her brows, nudging Leliana gently.
"I don't know." The bard smiled either way. "She agreed to go slowly. Perhaps mainly for my sake?" Exhaling, she skimmed fingers though short, red strands. "I'm not sure what to think, or do."
"You and the Inquisitor…" Cassandra spoke lowly, gaze returning to the unconscious woman. Her lips pursed into a tight line before she sighed; Cupping a cheek with one hand. "Perhaps it is time that I do consider a suitor, if you are getting involved with someone?" She teased, though seemed at least half serious.
But who? Cassandra couldn't take her family, and royalty seriously for even a moment. Being a seeker had always been her life. From her childhood training, to her involvement in the Seekers and Inquisition, she never would. Least she assumed- or hoped.
"You are too stubborn, Cassandra. Do you still refuse the company of women, even though-" Having a pointed stare shot at her, Leliana grinned.
"Even though, what?" Cassandra immediately went on the defensive, narrowing her eyes. She sat back, squaring her shoulders as she stared Leliana down. There was a faint nervous tingle on the nape of her neck; Had Leliana… noticed something, seen something?
"I wonder what it is? I cannot answer that, Cassandra."
"I didn't-"
Floating away from the seeker, the redhead smiled, shaking her head. Instead, she headed towards Mercia who was still knocked out cold. Kneeling by the brunette's side, Leliana rested against her knees.
The sun was beginning to rise, and she felt Mercia would want to wake soon. Still gloveless, she cupped a palm to the Inquisitor's forehead. The notion brushed strands of hair away from the younger's closed eyes.
Instead of being cold, the Inquisitor was now too warm. Her forehead was almost hot enough for a fever. Frowning, Leliana leaned over the Inquisitor, reaching for a filled bowl.
Cassandra watched them, almost compelled to compare them to one of the scenes in that dreadful romance serial. It was so terrible; The writing cliched and characters interchangeable, but… It was magnificent. If Varric were here, the seeker had no doubt he would be writing furiously.
Could the poultice have failed? Perhaps an infection? Leliana dampened a cloth in the bowl, wringing it out to not be sopping. Gently, she folded the fabric and draped it along Mercia's brow.
"Do you recall the last time she ate?" Leliana spoke suddenly, though Cassandra wasn't startled.
The seeker furrowed her brows, unable to recall. "It must have been… the day of her injury, surely? That morning?"
"Hm… When she got sick, it was just all bile." Leliana curled her top lip, mostly in concern. Was the pain of the Mark causing Mercia to be unable to eat, or had she just not been hungry?
There were so many questions, and they all demanded the Inquisitor to be awake. "Perhaps I am simply worrying too much." Leliana quietly confessed, chuckling to herself. She would remain by the downed woman's side, soaking the cloth when it dried.
If it was indeed the case the Inquisitor wasn't eating, how had she been fighting? A diet was so important when it came to combat. Now it seemed Mercia was falling ill. "How much did we get from those bronto carcesses?" Leliana asked over towards Cassandra.
Her agents weren't currently in the area, having been sent to scout. For the time being, with only having one encampment, they had low supplies. Their stockpile only consisted of one chest. But if they had any food produce, it would be found there.
"A dozen leather. I do believe we have some meat from them." Cassandra supplied from her own crate by the fire. "But I do seem to remember it is far too tough to do anything worthwhile."
An expression cast along the seeker's face. Her family had always adored the exotic, but bronto? Far too fatty, and tough. It is overly expensive for no reason. They would say. Shaking her head, Cassandra rose, and headed towards their camp inventory.
"If you simmer it long enough over a fire, it softens. Perhaps a stew?" Leliana advised, humming to herself. Would Mercia be able to eat that? She could strain it into a more suitable soup, if need be.
Cassandra gave a chuckle, opening the chest. "That is possible… You can imagine why we could never have done that before." The seeker commented, checking the amount. "We should have enough for a few days of no hunting, for everyone." She speared a thick slab of the meat, smoothing a table cleare as she began to cut it.
"If you prepare a pot for the camp, I will make a smaller portion for the Inquisitor. She should take it with elfroot." Leliana suggested, and the older woman hid a smile.
"Of course." Cassandra wasn't exactly a stranger to cooking for their troops, but bronto? It was tedious, and took too long. But, that is all they had. She would make do.
"Leliana, whatever became of those other brontos?" Cassandra inquired suddenly. "They were charging towards the Inquisitor. Did you…?"
"Scare them away?" Leliana finished with a smirk, glancing over her shoulder. "Perhaps they just didn't appreciate arrows blinding them." The spymaster chuckled, replacing the cloth on Mercia's brow.
Cassandra shared the brief chuckle, shaking her head. She began to cut the thick slab of bronto meat into smaller chunks, eyes on the other two. "You are formidable in battle, Leliana." The seeker spoke, settling the meat into a grand pot. She snatched another slab to cut, careful with the knife.
"I've rarely had to step into combat physically, with my agents at my disposal. I had forgotten just how… exhilarating it could be." Leliana's lips twitched into a smile, absentmindedly petting messy locks on Mercia's brow.
Honestly she missed it so. The rush of combat was something she had always secretly held interest to. Once she held strongly onto something, almost nothing could stop her. "The bow, dagger, and poison are my forte. If an enemy isn't reachable by arm, just fire."
"For some time, I thought hiding in the shadows cowardice." Cassandra admitted, though Leliana didn't seem surprised. The seeker continued, filling the black pot until it was almost full. "But, I see now just how clever it is. How ruthless it can be. I've grown to admire you, very much."
Leliana smiled to that, glancing over. The elder woman was now filling a smaller pot, this one just for the Inquisitor. The chunks were smaller; More water than meat to fill it.
An exhausted sigh sounded by Leliana's side. With her attention snatched from the seeker, Leliana glanced down. The Inquisitor shuffled against her bedroll, and pressed her palm atop the damp cloth. With this notion, Mercia slowly awoke; half-lidded emerald eyes drifting to the bard above her.
"Leliana…?" Mercia voiced, inhaling sharply.
"When was the last time you ate?" Leliana's voice took on a harsh edge, and Mercia felt faintly scolded. The Inquisitor stared up to her, confusion overtaking her expression.
"I… what?" She weakly asked, closing her eyes again. Her head was far too hot to be able to focus; A forge behind her eyes threatening to melt them completely. When was the last time she ate…? She suddenly couldn't remember.
"I…-" Closing her mouth, Mercia shook her head slowly. "I can't remember." Clearing her throat, she inhaled again. The air was humid. Frowning, she looked around them, and realised they were outside. Settling her eyes upon Cassandra, she glanced back up to Leliana in further confusion. "I don't feel well."
Her voice was hoarse, and she swallowed tensely. It felt sore, like she was coming down with something. "Great." She grumbled under her breath.
What a perfect time to start feeling unwell.
Leliana furrowed her brows, worry replacing idle anger. "You feel feverish." The spymaster murmured, taking Mercia's hand away from her brow. She draped another damp cloth along her skin, gently holding it there.
"The poultice may have been applied too late; Infection is most likely to blame. We need to draw back to Skyhold." Leliana sighed, glancing to Cassandra. The seeker was done cutting slabs of the meat, and hooked the large pot over the fire.
The smaller portion would need a controlled flame; one dug into the dirt instead of hoisted over. Mercia was offered water, and greedily drank. Her throat throbbed, but the cool of the water soothed her.
"Where is Sera and the others?" The Inquisitor asked after a long pause. She held the waterskin closely to herself, but remained on her back. She had the sneaking suspicion she would feel dizzy again if she sat up. Mercia didn't want a repeat of last night.
Or was it earlier?
"Out." The spymaster spoke, studying the Inquisitor carefully. Leliana still couldn't make heads or tails of this noble.
"Out?" Mercia only faintly smiled, lips pulling down into a grimace again. How long had she been unconscious from whenever she had slept? She vaguely remembered waking Leliana up…
"Well, I'm sure they'll be safe." The Inquisitor murmured, glancing to Cassandra when the seeker came close. The eldest woman grinned wryly to her, starting to dig a small pit for the controlled fire.
"You'll feel better without only bile in your stomach." Cassandra seemed sure, smoothing the dirt inside the pit. She set up the fire, hanging a small pot over it.
"How long will that take?" Mercia wasn't even hungry, or was she? It was so hard to tell when ill. But it wasn't like she could make this her excuse. She'd be scolded either way if she refused.
"Two hours at the most." The seeker eased from the cooking pot.
"Seeker, get over here, yeah?" The three women heard, and looked towards the treeline. Sera had arrived, and strode into the camp with a purpose. Her bow was slung around her shoulders, and she cocked a brow to Cassandra. "Well? We going?"
"But wh-"
"Just come on." Dragging the elder woman out of the camp, Cassandra was left spluttering after her.
"That was odd." Mercia murmured, though didn't think much of it. Sera probably wanted to show Cassandra a particularly interesting corpse. Closing her eyes, the Inquisitor grumbled when her side was gently poked.
"Did you forget I was here?" Leliana teased, checking the cloth along her brow. She switched it with a fresh one, watching the prone woman.
"How could I?" The Inquisitor's eyes remained closed, a smile etching along her lips in response to Leliana. "Since it seems we aren't going anywhere, do you have any interesting stories?"
"A bard always has interesting stories."
"How about a story for me, then?" Mercia asked, content to rest for now. She felt Leliana's touch ghost over the cloth on her brow; A light caress of her hair here and there.
"I would have told you no, at an earlier time." Leliana's voice was soft when she spoke next, words carrying a soft sigh. "But, I think I will tell you one now."
Pausing, the redhead fell silent. She mused over which story she could possibly tell. It couldn't be anything too… colourful, she felt. At least not until she knew Mercia more. Trailing her gaze up the brunette's face, her lips twitched. "I once pinned Josie's smallclothes to a Chantry board."
"Leliana, either you're a bad bard, or that's not the whole story." Mercia smirked, hearing the redhead scoff softly. She opened her eyes, gazing up to the older woman with amusement.
Leliana considered it for a moment more, her fingers slipping through the noble's dark hair. "To not embarrass Josie so much when she can't defend herself, I'll spare the juicy details."
"Ugh." Mercia playfully rolled her eyes, but attentively listened.
"When I had first met Josie, she was still in schooling back in Orlais." Adjusting herself so she wasn't grounding her knees, Leliana continued. "It wasn't until she became the ambassador, that we were friends. Upon my return to Orlais, she threw me a party. It was somewhat..."
"Bland?" Mercia supplied.
"Exactly that, yes." The spymaster nodded. "By midnight, we had found ourselves in the backstreets." She fondly remembered it, chuckling lowly. "It wasn't that the party was… so bad. It was just so perfectly coordinated, that there was nothing wrong with it; And as such, nothing to complain about."
"Orlesian's do love to complain…" Mercia murmured, smiling faintly. "So, the backstreets? Two lovely young ladies, wandering in the dark?"
"We could handle ourselves and others, of course." Leliana assured with a smirk, stirring the small pot beside her.
"How did you even persuade Josephine to take her smallclothes off in a back alley, then?" The Inquisitor's eyebrows rose. Everyone knew how much of a prude the ambassador could be. "Or am I missing something?"
Leliana chuckled lowly, carefully stirring the pot. Cassandra hadn't yet added the elfroot in, no doubt having been distracted by Sera. Humming in thought for her next words, the spymaster stood to retrieve a sprig and added it carefully.
"As I said, she was very young-"
"And you were a bad influence?" Mercia asked, happy when Leliana returned to her side. She heard the redhead's melodical laugh, watching the older woman closely.
Exactly what had guided her to take fascination in this woman? Mercia felt as if there was a deeper reason implemented. Though the bard had indeed suffered, there was a warmth present. Even now, she knew little of what happened to Leliana. But what would she discover once knowing the spymaster better?
Suddenly remembering something, Mercia's mouth opened, and she frowned. "I met Josephine when I was… no, that couldn't have been her…" Placing the waterskin by the side of her bedroll, Mercia's gaze shifted to the sky.
"Oh? Do tell… I'm sure it could have been her. The Montilyet's attended all of Madame Trevelyan's parties…" Leliana needled, grinning.
Mercia chuckled, struggling to remember what she had been about to say. Was that a deeper problem? "Then it must have been her… Once, in passing, she spilled a glass of wine on me. The look on her face, I'm sure she might've had an heart attack at that very moment." With a grin widening, another chuckle sounded from her lips. "I wonder if she's realised it was me, too?"
"My, I doubt she has put the pieces together." Leliana seemed thoroughly amused, grinning wide before reeling it back. "Allow me to be present when you tease her about it, please. I would love to see the look on her face."
"I'd love to see the look on yours without a veil of fever." Mercia blurted out, furrowing her brows in confusion at herself. Why had she said that? Well… they were somewhat courting, weren't they? Or… it was something close to that, at least.
To see her when she wasn't ill? Leliana paused in thought, contemplating what the younger woman had said. "And when not?"
"When not ill? At the very least, I would be more fun." Mercia gave a tremble, a spike of cold hitting her even through the fever and fire at her side. She groaned, head pulsing again. "Not to mention able to concentrate on you…"
"You're doing well. If I hadn't seen it myself, I would've refused to believe you had been struck by a giant." The spymaster commented. The Inquisitor was lucky she had pulled through with just a light wound and fever. Anyone else would've broken a dozen bones at least. "Your luck is remarkable."
Was it luck, or enlightenment?
"Luck? If I have any luck at all, it's surely bad." Mercia was led to sit up by the elder, protesting with weak groans. Her head swam with the changed position, a dull throb claiming her.
"Oh, hush now." Leliana scolded her, starting to gingerly unwrap the Inquisitor's bandages. "You've had the best luck of us, so far." Mercia was rested against her shoulder, poultice being tenderly washed away. The tin with the rest of it was nearby; reapplied once the wound was cleaned.
"I'm not sure what luck is considered anymore. Though I may survive, it always seems outrageous." The Inquisitor grumbled into Leliana's neck. She remained in this position, and enjoyed it whilst she could.
The spymaster smelled of… a distant fragrance. But what was it, precisely? It vaguely reminded Mercia of a wildflower. But there were so many out there. How could she possibly figure out which one it was? "You smell of… something…" She murmured into the bard's slender throat. "Embrium…? Maybe…"
Leliana felt her words catch in her throat, Mercia's breath on her neck. She forced the emotion down, wrapping fresh bandages to cover the wound. "Andraste's Grace…" She murmured softly, keeping the younger close to herself for a moment more. "I'm very fond of them, and keep them close with my clothes." Leliana laid Mercia back, having the Inquisitor grasp her shoulder. It paused this motion, and she regarded her fully.
"Andraste's Grace is a wildflower, isn't it…? An uncommon one? Why those in particular?" Did such a scent have a story behind it, Mercia wondered? It sounded as if it did.
"I…" Should she tell her? It wasn't a significant secret, but it was something personal. Could she trust Mercia with even the tiniest of memories? "I remember little of my mother, except for her scent. She too had a fondness for Andraste's Grace…" Her lips must have pulled down in sadness, because the Inquisitor frowned as well.
"I'm sorry." Mercia spoke softly, letting Leliana lay her back now. Her head felt just the faintest bit better, and the spymaster stirred the pot once more.
"I was young when she died." The bard smiled slightly. "As you do, I have many memories. Some fond, others monstrous. It's what we do with them that's important." There were many things she regretted in her life. By no means did Leliana regret becoming a bard. But for who trained her, that was another matter. Even with the Warden. Though the negativity overwhelmed her, she couldn't excuse the fact she did good joining.
Though the Warden had failed to do what was right, she stopped the Blight. Leliana knew that she had helped this happen.
"Memories…" Mercia murmured softly. She couldn't agree more.
Night time had gradually loomed over them. It had felt like an eternity throughout her meal. Yet here she was, being persuaded to sleep.
"Leliana, I've been asleep all day. I'm not tired." Mercia felt as though she was years younger, warding her nanny off from tucking her in. As it was, the situation now almost mirrored it; the older woman trying her best to nudge the Inquisitor down.
"You need to rest. Lie down, if not to sleep, then to at least let yourself be still." Leliana cocked a brow, the two in their tent.
"Says the one who can go freely as she pleases." The Inquisitor droned. Either way, she relented in her struggle against Leliana. Resting her head back, she stared up to the tent ceiling. "It makes me mentally tired just looking at this ceiling."
"If it makes you so tired…" Leliana trailed off and Mercia gave her another look. The older woman chuckled, shaking her head. "I cannot go freely as I please." Leliana's voice was softer now, and full of hidden meaning.
"If so, why?" It was a genuine question which the younger woman asked her. Mercia was curious, and she watched her settle. There was a cautious expression upon Leliana's face- of worry, anxiety?
Mercia had the urge to ask her what was wrong. But did she have that right? Anything personal with the spymaster was delicate. The events after Haven proved so.
The Inquisitor stayed silent for a moment, gazing up to Leliana. There was the obvious pain of her past, and the loss of the Divine. But could it be something else? Back after Haven when the spymaster had struck her, had Leliana been comparing her to the Warden? If so… Had she compared her just for her position of power, or also because of the inkling closeness they shared?
Perhaps it was a hint of both? The older woman was so private, and defensive however. Maybe one day, she could get the answer from Leliana?
"I no longer know how to be…" The spymaster drifted, unsure of her wording. "Personal? Even with admitting such a thing, I feel at such a loss. This isn't within my personality, I had-"
"Betrayal and heartbreak; I won't pretend to know either well." Mercia murmured softly, catching Leliana's attention again. "But… I am willing to open myself up to you. You don't have to do the same, not as quickly of course." The Inquisitor paused, wondering if this was already too far.
"When is a moment ever right? When do you know when it is? Even now we, you- I have no idea if the moment is right." The spymaster was sat against her bedroll, over the blankets. She stared down to the fabric, her troubled expression deepening. "Do I flee like before, find an answer, or not act?"
Picking her gaze up, she regarded Mercia silently. How should she go with this? This wasn't a party, or a battlefield. Tactics and interlaced poison weren't needed, or wanted.
"Do whatever you want, anything you please. I'd rather you not attempt to fight me, at least not until I've healed up." Mercia tried to joke, sitting up to further gaze upon Leliana. "You're not a prisoner, here. You…" She struggled to find the words, throwing her blankets off to edge to her knees.
From the sudden movement, Mercia felt dizzy and planted a hand into the ground. Eyes on Leliana, she quirked a soft grin. "Your eyelashes… are so pretty. They're like little butterflies… I want to catch them, maybe put them in a jar…"
The expression Leliana had held all but dispersed. She stared blankly at the Inquisitor, trying to understand what she had just heard. Covering her mouth, the bard barely restrained herself from snorting. "Butterflies? What are you talking about-"
Mercia grinned, taking Leliana's hands from covering her mouth. Instead, she brushed her lips to the bard's; The older woman stiffening beneath her touch. It wasn't long that the Inquisitor pulled back, swallowing hard. She was glad that Leliana hadn't slapped her…
"I… I'm sorry. That must have just contradicted everything I just said…"
The bard was dangerously close to her. Leliana was frozen in place, her mind clouded. She stared at the younger woman, confused. What had happened? Her lips tingled, their noses barely brushing.
With a hand supporting herself, she stiffened. "I… I- oh."
Mercia swallowed roughly, concerned as to what would happen next. Leliana seemed frozen, and it was all the Inquisitor could do not to collapse. "I really… am sorry."
If she had noticed Leliana reaching for her, she would have flinched back. The spymaster's hand caught her collar, and pulled her roughly forward into another kiss. It was deep, and set the ill Inquisitor on fire. It almost felt alike to her mark burning through her veins. Only this time, it felt good.
The spymaster tilted her head, pushing against her. An arm wrapped around Mercia's shoulders, and a palm cupped her cheek. What… what was-?
As quickly as the second kiss began, it ended. Mercia was left breathless; Her head pulsing in confusion and faint pain. She stared at Leliana, eyes wide and lips quirked into a small smile.
The older woman looked just as surprised; Blue eyes regaining sharpness from being glazed over. Clearing her throat, Leliana let go of Mercia's collar. She sputtered as the Inquisitor fell back, though the younger woman managed to catch herself.
"Are you alright?" Leliana inquired, her voice a pitch higher. Her hands drifted forward, almost as if she was unsure she could control them. "...Mer-"
"I'm fine." Mercia chuckled softly, clearing her throat. Her elbow throbbed from having caught her weight, but that was all. "Perhaps we should just… sleep on this?"
"I.. I think you're right." Leliana's face was a healthy pink, the older woman no doubt surprised at herself. She left Mercia's side after another look of consideration, returning to her bedroll.
Time gradually passed by them, and neither were asleep. If given that choice, she would feel better, honestly. Leliana was on her side, her back facing the Inquisitor. What was she supposed to do? Her heart was racing. Yet she was still so unsure! Stiffly, she skimmed her fingers along her lips.
Had this been the right choice? Could she go through all of this? To love? To trust?
Her body had apparently thought so… But, Mercia had kissed her first, despite her earlier promises. It wasn't that Leliana had minded; She had returned the affection after all, and the Inquisitor did seem apologetic.
Perhaps after more time, she could… learn to trust again.
But even so… sighing deeply, Leliana rolled onto her stomach. She would think about it tomorrow…
Skyhold. The relief she held upon walking back within this fortified castle was amazing. Though she was still ill, she was well enough to get around. So at least she wasn't going to be bedridden.
"Darling, you can't very well be seen with soiled rags on your head." Vivienne's voice made Mercia turn, the mage having a smirk upon her lips. "Never go out without someone who can wield magic, hm?" The older woman clicked her tongue, taking the Inquisitor's arm. "Let's get you sorted, shall we?"
Without another option, the Inquisitor was practically dragged further into Skyhold. Soon, in the tavern, Mercia found herself sitting in a chair on the ground floor.
The inhabitants were ushered out, and eventually, it was just Vivienne, and Mercia.
"Sit, stay." Vivienne ordered, giving a soft chuckle as she approached. "Now then, pray tell me the events that led to your current state?"
"I… We were ambushed by three giants, and several brontos." Mercia shrugged as if it were merely a few wild wolves. "One clubbed me, sent me onto some rocks. Cut my head."
"Have you been feeling feverish, lethargic?" Vivienne set about carefully unrolling the bandages. She scrunched her nose up at the smeared poultice, clicking her tongue again. "What a… charming solution."
"That means it's shit, right?" Mercia crossed her arms, chuckling.
"Quite. It looks as if Sera was the one to mix it." At Vivienne's impeccable eye, Mercia chuckled harder. "It was, wasn't it? Well, at least it stopped the bleeding. I was feverish, though. I may even be now, I'm not sure." The Inquisitor rose a hand to feel her brow. After the private moment with Leliana, she had forgotten all about feeling ill.
"Well, I will fix that in just a moment." Slipping a vial from between her bosom, Vivienne offered it over. A hand still along the wound, magic burned only faintly as skin was stitched back together.
Mercia winced, waiting until the pain left before she drank of the vial. It was small; The deep indigo potion tasted faintly of lilacs but heavily of medicine. Burning and sterile…
"That… was awful." She is careful not to spit, verbally or literally. Given a cup of water after, the taste lingered past her lips and on her tongue.
"Medicine is only sweet when it is a farce, my dear. You should be concerned when I give you anything tasting of sugar or fruit." Vivienne hides a faint smirk again, creating distance between them.
"Oh, that does sound fearful." Mercia teased, putting a hand to her temple. She felt a faint scar, and frowned. She supposed it would join the others. "If you'll excuse me, Madame de Fer, I believe there is a briefing I'll need to attend about the Emerald Graves."
"Of course, darling. Try not to get your head caved in next time? Or in the very least, fetch a mage, hm?"
"Though the Emerald Graves was cut short, we gained considerable information for its geography."
"Geography which states the place is dangerous?" Mercia muttered under her breath, though a smile threatened to blow her cover.
"... There are many split factions within this location." Leliana continued, glancing to the Inquisitor. Had she heard her? Her eyes narrowed as if to answer this, and returned to studying her notes. "Red templar activity is heavy within the Emerald Graves. My agents report they are concentrated close to ancient, elven ruins."
Mercia crossed her arms, gazing down upon the map. She was only minorly distracted, picking up a piece that represented an agent. Who had requisitioned these? Yet, she already knew, didn't she?
No doubt it was Josephine. Setting the agent back where it was, Mercia picked up another doll. "Is this one me?" It was black in colour like the others, but had a unique difference. It was the only type of its kind too, so surely?
"It is." Cullen spoke, looking between her and Leliana for a moment. There was a subtle tension within the air, though nothing seemed different. Had something happened, he wondered? Straightening, he never removed his grasp from his sword. "My forces report Orlesians within the area. The Emerald Graves remains heavily uncharted; It's our duty as the Inquisition to explore and categorize the surrounding areas. If not for the fact it may become a battleground in the time to come, but also to spare pilgrimage in some of the worst areas."
"To do that, we'll need to expend a lot of forces." Mercia spoke up, raising a hand to her temple. The scar there was traced, and the doll likeness of her was placed back on the map. She nudged it with a finger, until it sat over Skyhold.
Josephine was watching her intently, quill hovering over her checkboard. Quickly lowering her hand, the Inquisitor cleared her throat. "We can set up campsites for our agents, and do a clearing sweep."
"Preferably I would dodge the giants, but…" Directing her eyes to the Orlesian map, Mercia paused. "Could we trap them somehow?"
"Trap a giant? That would require more resources than just killing them outright." Leliana argued, clasping her hands behind her back. "They do not contribute to the ecosystem; if anything, they destroy it."
"Such creatures are vicious and enjoy killing." Josephine agreed, turning to Cullen for his opinion. The man furrowed his brows, humming as he rose a fist to cradle his chin.
"They are rather hostile…" He agreed after a moment, the three advisors looking to Mercia.
"Judge overruled?" Mercia cocked a brow, seeming more amused than she had been before.
It seemed their main concern once creating camps was wiping out the giants altogether. But did they have the time and resources for this? Would her advisors even allow her to take part in this? Given she had been injured by one already, her luck was cut out.
"See if we can come up with a quick way to eradicate the giants; A poison trap perhaps? Bait and poison…?" Mercia rubbed her chin, nodding to herself.
"The giants are rather dim. They would eat anything." Leliana agreed, Josephine writing the order down.
"That'll have to be some poison to kill them outright." The Inquisitor mused. "The only thing strong enough I can think of is dragon venom. Nobody is insane enough to try and harvest such a material, I don't think." Though she did question Iron Bull.
"With the more dangerous plantlife from various areas, I'm sure we can come up with something." Leliana chuckled lowly, no doubt already plotting.
Mercia gave a half-grin, nodding. "Mm, then we shall see what comes up. Until then-" She gazed down upon the map. "Perhaps a few days to recuperate."
"Until then, you should rest." Josephine remarked, angling her checkboard further against the crook of her arm. Scribbling more information down, she gestured to Leliana instead. "The Inquisitor is stubborn. I'm sure you will contend with her?"
"The Inquisitor is still here." Mercia teased, crossing her arms as she chuckled. Leliana hid a smirk, shaking her head as she stepped closer to Josephine.
"I will contend with her." The spymaster spared a glance to Mercia, the noble woman giving a huff. "Even though her wound is healed, there are no doubt other areas in which to watch over."
"I am a fully grown woman, not a mabari pup. Talking about mabari, when are we getting some?" The thought had crossed Mercia's mind before. They were in a heavily fortified castle. So surely warhounds would be a recommendation? "Or doesn't our ambassador like dogs?"
"Mabari are…" Josephine cleared her throat, glancing to Leliana. The spymaster seemed thoroughly amused; A smirk playing along her lips. "They are… big. They stink."
"So does The Iron Bull, but we keep him around." Mercia blinked, watching the Antivan woman stifle a laugh by covering her mouth.
"W-with so many guests of refined backgrounds-" Josephine stuttered to a stop, sighing. "Fine, we will look into getting some pups." She succumbed to the defeat, and Mercia's grin.
"Perhaps Lady Montilyet would take advantage of a personal warhound-"
"Absolutely not, Ser Rutherford." Turning away from the only male in the room, Josephine caught eye with Leliana. "Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, come on Josie… I think you would like a dog. Perhaps not a mabari, maybe one of those little ones that are all the rage in Orlais? I saw a fine lady carrying one in her bag." Leliana wheedled, grinning when Josephine paused with a considering look.
Mercia watched with joyous amusement, crossing her arms. "I'm sure we can accommodate that. Now, if there's nothing else?" Nodded to be dismissed, Mercia edged from the war room.
Without much of an option for anything else, Mercia halted once exiting. Sighing, she brushed her fingers through her hair, thinking. Now what was she doing? It was too early to sleep, nor did she feel like doing so.
But being back at Skyhold, and not risking her life was certainly a nice feeling. It had been nothing but chaotic work for the past month or so. Mercia felt she definitely did deserve this short break.
Perhaps a hot bath was in order, later? Mercia clasped a hand to the nape of her neck, rubbing gently. Hearing the door open behind her, the Inquisitor turned.
"Stiff muscles?" Leliana cocked a brow, passing her. On her way to the rookery, perhaps? That's the only place she ever saw the elder, after all.
"More considering what to waste my time on. Are you going to the rookery?" She questioned Leliana, the redhead nodding in response. Following after her unceremoniously, she continued. "Mind if I follow you then?"
"I assumed you would anyway." Leliana teased, glancing over her shoulder. "But no, I don't mind." She led the way up, listening to Mercia's steps for any balance issues.
If there were any, it was only because the Inquisitor was trying to step exactly where her spymaster did. "I remember your words about the floorboards…" Mercia admitted, one hand on the railing.
"There are a few loose floorboards. But nobody has fallen through them yet."
"That's… reassuring?"
With the crows flocking the spymaster, Mercia took a step back. The animals hopped atop the railings, and onto the elder's arms and shoulders.
"They love me fiercely." Leliana chuckled softly, listening to the trills of the birds. She let them have a moment before gently wafting them back to the air. Mercia watched them all, freezing when one landed atop her head.
The crow screeched, and she jumped. Without a given word from Leliana, the bard softly laughed, approaching her. Offering an arm for the bird, it latched onto the redhead's arm instead.
"Usually Baron Plucky is a terror to anyone except myself. I wonder why…" Shaking the thought off, she sat him against her desk's chair. "Off you go."
"Yes, I can't see why he wouldn't love everyone." Mercia sarcastically spoke, eyeing the crow. Did it have red eyes, or was that just her imagination? Leliana gave her a glance, mirth dancing in her eyes.
"He's old and cranky." The spymaster chuckled, petting the bird's head.
"Somehow I almost feel jealous he could have the freedom to feel so." The Inquisitor murmured. "About… earlier."
"By earlier, I assume you mean the moment in the tent?" Leliana asked, glancing up from the crow. She gave him another pet, and gently gestured he go. Baron Plucky slowly gazed upon Mercia, squawking once before flying off.
He was so creepy… Mercia grimaced, stepping closer. "It is. What are you wanting to do about it? About us?"
Honestly, Mercia wasn't even sure what she wanted. Let alone what Leliana wanted.
Leliana stiffened, her back to the Inquisitor. Mercia paused, twiddling her thumbs. "I did say I would give you time; But is that even what you want? Time to consider being with me, opening up to me?"
The Free Marcher was a little confused, from those shared kisses to the almost denial of them. Leliana hadn't mentioned them until now; Did she dare to think the spymaster thought nothing of her?
"I do not… know?" The bard murmured quietly, fingers edging along her desk. She slid a note closer to it, staring blankly at the text. The noble's eyes burned into her back, making her feel all the more uncomfortable. She frowned at the sensation, old wounds dully spiking against her skin.
"Oh." Mercia's voice didn't sound disappointed, rather surprised. "I… am pushing, aren't I? Forgive me. I promised you I would wait, and I will." The Inquisitor strode to her side, to at least be in her visual range.
"If you ever want to… share with me, I won't turn you away. I know that it might take time, but… I'll be here."
"Considerate and charming?" The bard lowered her hood, revealing short hair. Such a sight was gradually becoming a daily occurrence. Such a personality reminded her of herself years ago. Mercia was… innocent in a way. "We'll see."
"That's all I can ask for." Mercia smiled, turning away. She paused, glancing down to the floorboards before attempting to look back. "I only hope that you choose what you want, instead of succumbing to your fears."
"Fear is a complex feeling, no? It drives us to act and believe. I can't say there is fear, but I won't lie, I have felt it." She couldn't understand why it was becoming easy to share these feelings. Leliana could only assume there was… the deepening connection.
"Perhaps I will agree to something. Though for now…?" She inquired, receiving a nod. "Prove yourself."
"Prove myself?" Was that permission to start a courtship? Mercia gave a slow grin, carefully turning to face Leliana again. "Then let it begin." She cheekily bowed her head, waving away a crow set to land on her. "For now, I will let you get back to work."
Wary of the floorboards, the Inquisitor descended from the rookery. Now… how could she spend the rest of her day?
COLLAB NOTES
Strangely enough we forgot about this story for a while. Originally we thought we had completed the chapter, and put it onto the backburner. But apparently not; anyhow, it's better later than never!
REVIEWS
zakhaev13: I find it cheap with the lack of flexibility that Leliana wasn't a romance option. Though it is understandable with Morrigan. After all she only appeared for a while. I feel there was so much potential for a Leliana/Inquisitor romance, especially for hurt/comfort. With the loss of the Divine, and the possibility of betrayal from the Warden, it's perfect. Though you know what BioWare is like. I don't think they learned much from the backlash of Mass Effect 3.
The Sorrowful Deity: I'm sorry? What are you trying to say? Both Harmonium and I can't understand what you're getting at precisely? A darker version of their personalities? Can you explain?
CinderDiamond: Hahaha, depressing. You might just be onto something with that.
