Due to her skills as a rogue, Leliana avoided being confronted by Cullen for the next week. The sheer amount of meticulous planning required from all advisers prior to leaving for the Winter Palace was enough to keep Cullen, and his questioning eyes, far from the answers she didn't have. The answers she wasn't prepared to give him. Her scouts were tasked to reroute the Commander's messengers, so the Spymaster had just left the vicinity when they arrived with a summons to his office.
By day seven of their tactical battle, Cullen grew weary of her games. He gave up trying to contact her. His own stack of work increasing tenfold since the Inquisitor left for the Hinterlands with Dorian, Solas, and Blackwall for visible humanitarian work leading up to their travels to Orlais.
The Inquisition is a peacekeeping force, Evelyn told them with a scoff as she'd left an extensive list of orders for the Inquisition to complete in her absence, we better pretend to act like one before we're called on it.
Having the Inquisitor out of Skyhold did much to calm the lurking fear in the back of her mind. For days after the last war table meeting, every set of footsteps or movement in the shadows caused her fingers to travel to the handle of her hidden dagger. To defend herself against what, she was unsure. If Evelyn struck against her, Skyhold could have her surrounded in moments. Evelyn herself moved at inhuman speeds with her flashing silver daggers without her army. She would leave Leliana bleeding and gasping for breath in a darkened corner of the Inquisition fortress with no one ever suspecting their graceful and noble leader.
So far Cullen's lies seemed to pacify their leader, but Evelyn was skilled in the Game and Cullen, who was a logical man at heart, lacked common sense with her. He failed to realize how dangerous she could be if she understood the bartering chip Idalya would be to the royal court of Ferelden.
Alistair, with Anora's guiding hand, was successful in rebuilding Ferelden, but Leliana knew for his beloved Warden he would let the entire world burn and fall to ashes. That could happen. There was also the fact the organization dangling Idalya in front of the angry king had stolen her remains from under his nose out of his kingdom.
Alistair was not on speaking terms with the Grey Wardens after he announced that Idalya's body would not be heading to the Warden tomb in Weisshaupt. If they had a problem with his decision they could take it up with the entire Ferelden army, he screamed at the Warden-Commander of Orlais. She was instead housed in the royal crypt where a beautiful statue of her likeness was carved and placed with her remains next to the plot where he would lay for his eternal slumber after slipping away to the Fade.
When reports filtered in on the Inquisition's progress in the Hinterlands, Leliana knew it was safe enough to call a war table meeting to answer Cullen's questions. The next afternoon Leliana followed close behind by Enchanter Fiona, entered the war room to find it occupied with advisers, the Inquisitor's companions, and Templar and army captains who all arrived early for prime seating. The Spymaster swept through the doors, wearing a sculpted mask of control, as she made her way to the head of the table. Dropping a pile of parchment on the table, she made a simple gesture and Fiona came forward, stepping around Sera who decided the best seat was the middle of the aisle Varric and Iron Bull formed.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice," Leliana began, "I know this meeting is long overdue, but Fiona and I wanted to be certain on diagnoses from the healers before we briefed everyone."
"Diagnosis? Is she ill?" Cullen's voice reached across the room, concern clear in its tone. Leliana did not meet his gaze but instead gestured once again to Fiona who stepped forward to address the tense crowd leaning forward in their seats, expecting answers to the largest question existing in Skyhold.
"Of a sort, Commander," Fiona responded, her frail-sounding voice somehow projecting across her audience. "Lady Idalya is suffering from a severe form of memory loss. Her memories are fractured and recalling them has very painful side effects as some of you have experienced in your interactions with her." She folded her hands against her abdomen. "I know you have many questions for the Hero, but right now our healers have suggested against any talk of her experiences. Triggering the wrong memory at the wrong time could have devastating consequences as her mind tries to piece her memories back together. Letting her memories unfold on her own time appears to be the safest way we can help her."
As Fiona finished, the room remained quiet until erupting in chatter. Leliana rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. The room quieted down again, except for Sera who was drunk and babbling something about zombies and abominations over Varric's shoulder until the dwarf shoved a hand over her moving mouth silencing the archer who glared at him in annoyance.
Leliana stepped forward to the table and squared her shoulders. "Speaking of Idalya's safety, I'm sure it's not lost on most of you that her existence puts her in great danger. If Corypheus or the Venatori knew she lived, she would be the target of relentless attacks. Idalya is the only thing standing between Corypheus and his immortality for us in the Inquisition, and it is our job," she met Cullen's eyes, "to keep her safe as we would any other member. For the Inquisition to succeed and destroy Corypheus, we must have Idalya with us."
The Spymaster gazed out the rest of crowd, measuring the gazes from within the room. "I trust you will be careful with the information stated here. Anyone could be a threat to the Hero, even within our walls."
She paused and watched the expressions of understanding click on their faces one by one. What she was saying was dangerous, but she was relying on the loyalty Idalya gained from these people and prayed it was more than Evelyn demanded from them. "Thank you for your time today, I know we're all busy with preparations, but I consider you all to be important parts of what we're trying to accomplish."
Varric rose from his seat to exit with Iron Bull behind him, a passed-out Sera laid over his massive shoulder. Cullen issued orders to the Templar captains, Rylen and Barris, and his army Lieutenants standing beside him before approaching Leliana and Fiona. The Enchanter gave a brief nod before slipping through the bustle of the moving guards, still uncomfortable around that many Templar after her years serving in a circle. Cullen waited for the room to empty before clearing his throat and turning to Leliana.
"Memory loss? That's all that's going on?" Cullen searched her face with narrowed hazel eyes that sought information she refused to give. "Why all the secrecy?"
"Because certain pieces of her past could make her a valuable weapon, Cullen. I know you care for Evelyn, but you need to open your eyes. If she knew about Idalya and Alistair's relationship, we would already be at war with Ferelden." She leaned forward, so they were looking eye to eye. "Idalya saved your life once when you didn't deserve it, I was there. I tried to tell her the merciful thing to do was send you to the Maker and move on. She wouldn't listen. The life of one man was of equal importance to her as all of Thedas. That's who she is. Remember that detail before you volunteer information that puts bulls-eye on the back of her head from your beloved." Leliana spat the final words and walked past a stunned Cullen.
She needed out of this office. She was not much of a drinker, but there was a bottle of vintage Ferelden brandy hidden in the bottom of her desk calling her
The stacks of paperwork and lines of messengers were endless. It seemed the minute any headway was made into finishing stacks, another pile would appear as though the parchments multiplied every time her eyes strayed. Leliana was drowning in row after row of paper, head gasping to stay above the surface, as information on Corypheus and the Red Templar came in from all corners of Thedas.
After signing the last missive in a pile, the rogue dropped her quill in midair watching it strike the ink-stained wooden desk. Reaching above her head, she interlaced her long fingers and arched them, sighing as her knuckles popped one after another.
Her focus was damaged.
Fiona was to have a final status meeting with Idalya before she left with the Inquisitor for the Winter Palace. Leliana argued every point with Evelyn over the safety of bringing Idalya. Evelyn ignored her protests claiming Fiona deemed the Hero fit for combat, and as an asset to the Inquisition she would do her duty. The temptation to play with her new toy was too inviting for Evelyn. Her advisers warned her that once the Venatori knew Idalya lived she would live under constant threat of attack until the decisive battle with Corypheus.
Even knowing Fiona's dislike for direct confrontation, she expected the mage would approach her after the meeting, but the day grew long, the sun setting over the ridge of mountains lighting the horizon on fire and Fiona had not approached her nor returned to her work.
Collecting the remaining stack of parchment, Leliana tucked them under a weary arm and proceeded down the stone flight of stairs towards the desk where Fiona worked on her research for Skyhold's growing library of magical volumes. She was unsurprised to find the desk empty, the candle long since burnt down to the wick, hardened lines of wax reaching out across the corner of the desk.
Fiona's pile of spell books remained in the organized pile she left them in before heading to her assessment of the Warden. As she examined the research table, far off footsteps approached until a messenger acknowledged the Spymaster with a nod. He handed off a significant pile of parchment full of annotated notes in Cullen's blocky script as she sighed.
"Enchanter Fiona?" She inquired.
"In the garden, Nightingale." He responded in the flat tones of his Starkhaven accent as she dismissed him.
Leliana added Cullen's pile of parchment to the previous one still under her arm, the stacks of paper crunching together as she tightened her elbow over them. Light steps took her to the stairway, in the nearby reading nook, Dorian was curled up asleep in his reading chair wearing his garish leather ensemble with more buckles than fabric. A heavy volume on Trevinter magisters laid open against his chest which rose and fell with his deep slumbered breaths.
Heading down to the main hall she relaxed, the overwhelming mobs of nobles that filled the grand hall as visitors vacated when darkness descended over Skyhold. Varric was writing at his desk, an open bottle of wine keeping him company as his narrative unfolded, his brow furrowed while his quill scratched out his next hit. Allowing him privacy she passed, her boots making only the slightest clicks on the worn stone floors. Entering the garden, she found it free of the occupants and the servants that made their way between wings of Skyhold.
A soft green light emanated from the wooden gazebo. Leliana drew closer to find Fiona seated at the edge of the Inquisition's garden. Sky-blue robes spilled around her on the ground, soft green tendrils of light drifted off her fingers into the soil. As the sprouts of elfroot would break the ground, her index finger would run along the edge of the plant, its leaves taking on an ethereal glow as they stretched higher and higher. When the plant reached full size, Fiona sighed and hung her head, her hand dropping into her lap in exhaustion. Leliana settled onto the carved wooden bench observing her. Fiona made no motion to speak after a pregnant pause.
"How is she? I had expected you to check in at least after the meeting."
"Idalya? She's great. Amazing…," Fiona scoffed. "Accurate to say, stronger today than the day she died."
"What is it?" Worry spread through the Spymaster's gut, a wave of nausea settling in over news of her dearest friend.
Fiona shook her head, regretful while looking out over the garden. "I am so tired, Nightingale."
"Of what?" Concern flooded Leliana watching Fiona like this. The two women were not friends. For the Inquisition to succeed, the two would have to carry out their duties.
"Of this, of everything. Have we done the right thing, Nightingale? She was just a girl. A girl with the weight of the entire world placed on her shoulders and she never bowed or broke and now we're doing it to her again. She is but a child and shows more strength and grace than I've ever possessed."
Leliana chuckled despite herself. "Yes, that would be Idalya. She has that effect on people." She peered up at the constellations forming in the night sky. "I don't know if we were right, but I know the two of us are old enough now to know the world isn't made in black and white decisions. Life is hard and brutal, and wars are fought in the gray areas between. Right and wrong no longer mean the same thing."
"That is true." Fiona turned to face her. "Within my life I've been a mage who lost the only life they knew, a grey warden conscripted to be something more, an enchanter who was brought back to the circle to remain until death, then the leader of a rebellion who had the chance to free my people only to become enslaved to Trevinter. After living all these things, I find myself now a traitor to the few things I thought I held sacred. I'm ready for this to end." Her eyes were pointed down, shoulders quivering in the cool mountain breeze as her fingers worried the fabric along the hem of her periwinkle robes.
Leliana stood and moved closer to the frail-looking mage. Placing a hand on her shoulder, she squeezed. "The pieces are in place, Fiona. We must follow through on the path we have set them on. You will find the end you seek soon enough; the Maker will see us through. Excuse me, I have to go to the Chantry."
Fiona's nod in response was numb, as Leliana made her way to the small Chantry attached to the garden with its white marble statue of Andraste. As she closed the heavy wooden door behind her, her legs gave, and she stumbled the final few steps, falling to her hands and knees at Andraste's feet. Gasps escaped out of her lungs, her nails digging into the rough stone floor as tears flowed out of her eyes. The dam broke; she could not hold back the tears as they flowed over her cheeks, dripping to the floor. Shoving a dirty fist to her mouth, a scream ripped its way out of her throat and ended in more gasping breaths as she laid down to place her head against the cool stone of the statue.
Over time, she calmed her breaths, but she remained laying there staring up into Andraste's eyes in her filthy hooded cloak. The words of Transfigurations worked their way out of her soul, up her throat, and out onto her lips:
"Those who bear false witness All things in this world are finite.
And work to deceive others, know this:
There is but one Truth.
All things are known to our Maker
And He shall judge their lies.
What one man gains, another has lost.
Those who steal from their brothers and sisters
Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind.
Our Maker sees this with a heavy heart
The blessing candles blinked in the drafty room. Words she had spoken to Fiona came back into her head. She was right: right and wrong no longer meant the same as they had when she was an idealistic girl following Idalya across Ferelden.
The Maker may never forgive Fiona and her for their actions, but there was still time to make it up to her friend. Pushing away Idalya only worked in some fantasy where watching her friend die a second time didn't hurt the same way it did before. As Leliana knelt and wept next to her body atop Fort Drakon, she would have given everything for just one more moment with her dearest friend.
Leliana received the most extraordinary gift from the Maker: a second chance. She would no longer run from the fear of pain. After everything she had done to bring back her dearest friend, the last thing she would do is leave her alone in the darkness when she could once again fight by her side for the fate of Thedas.