Months passed by and Leliana grew more and more sure that Marjolaine had forgotten all about her. And why wouldn't she? Leliana wasn't anything special and Marjolaine was a wealthy, married woman. Winter came, the house grew cold and their water supply froze. The fire in their bedroom did little to warm them up as Harry and Leliana cuddled up under the same blanket, grateful to have each other.

Then one day it happened. Leliana and Harry had pulled two blankets over their heads and were still sleeping when the matron came into the room and pulled Leliana to her feet. Leliana didn't know what was happening. One moment she was asleep and the next she was standing with her bare feet on the cold floor. The poor girl blinked her eyes a little bit, trying to focus and keep her balance.

"Wha…" she managed before the matron brusquely pushed her dress into her arms.

"Put this on," she barked, "there is a woman downstairs, wating for you, maker knows why. But get ready. Don't want to keep her waiting."

Leliana pulled the rough material over her head and quickly fastened her belt, but then when she made a movement towards the water basin the matron stopped her.

"No time," she said, "the woman has already been waiting for too long. Come now." Leliana sighed. Her hair was messy, her face unwashed, the tip of her nose was red from the cold and there were dark rings under her eyes. Leliana knew this without the presence of a mirror and she felt mortified that Marjolaine was going to see her like this. Because of course it was Marjolaine that was waiting for her. Leliana knew it instinctively.

When they reached the end of the strairs and entered the main hall, Leliana's heart jumped in her chest. There was Marjolaine and she looked just as beautiful as she had last time. Her raven black hair was kept high on her head and adorned with feathers and flowers. Her dress was velvet and just as fancy as the dresses that Lady Cecilie used to wear during her glory days. When Marjolaine noticed Leliana and saw the girl's dishevelled state, amusement flashed in her eyes.

"Marjolaine," Leliana said, breathless, before she managed to stop herself. She could practically feel the matron's scolding eyes on the back of her head but Marjolaine seemed pleased with Leliana's reaction when seeing her.

"Leliana," she replied and smiled, "I'm sorry that I didn't come sooner."

"Please," Leliana said, "don't apologize. I knew you'd come." Leliana felt herself blushing, she was saying lots of foolish things today.

"Well?" Marjolaine said, slightly impatiently, "grab your belongings. I don't have all day."

"What?" The matron said, suddenly uncomfortable, "I'm not sure… I… The house is her guardian, I can't just…"

"Leliana is going to be a minstrel," Marjolaine answered the matron, but never taking her eyes off of the girl, "she is just perfect for the job and way too pretty to rot away here." She looked at the matron with slight disdain in her eyes.

"Come pet," she then ordered. Leliana looked back and forth between the matron and Marjolaine. There was no question what she wanted to do.

"Can I just go and say adieu to my friend?"

Marjolaine laughed softly.

"Well, of course," she said, "I'll wait here."

Leliana bowed her head quickly, turned around and ran back up the stairs.

Up in the room, that horrid cramped place that no longer was Leliana's bedroom, Harry was sitting up, waiting for Leliana to return.

"What did the hag want?" She asked.

"Oh Harry," Leliana whispered and sat down in front of her friend on the bed, her eyes glittering, "you will never believe what has happened! You remember Marjolaine? She has come to take me away and teach me to be a minstrel!"

Instead of looking happy, Harry looked sceptic.

"Leli," she said carefully, "that woman is not a minstrel, she is a bard. You shouldn't go with her."

"What are you talking about?" Leliana whispered excitingly, "didn't you hear me? I'm getting to leave!" Then when Harry was still not smiling, she added, a bit hurt, "are you not happy for me?"

Harry sighed.

"Of course I am, Leli, of course I am. But why is this Marjolaine even interested in you? Why is she helping you?"

Because I'm special, Leliana thought, but didn't say. She knew it was a very childish thought.

"Leli," Harry continued, "what do you even know about that woman? Look, I've spent my fair share at the courts of Val Royeaux next to my father. The court, and its bedrooms, are filled to the brim with women like her. Mischievous, cunning women. Women who never do anything without expecting something back."

"Says you!" Leliana snapped, refusing to listen to Harry, "you! The daughter of a mischievous, cunning and probably thieving man!" The moment the words had left her lips she regretted them. She didn't really think those things about Harry's father, the mystery man who was still stuck in an Orlesian prison somewhere.

She didn't want to listen to Harry. Marjolaine had come for her. For her. And she was damned if she was going to miss this opportunity.

"Harry, I…" she started but Harry silenced her.

"You know what?" the girl said angrily, "just go with your precious Marjolaine. But don't come crying to me when she leaves you out in the cold."

Leliana scoffed at her friend and stood up again, getting ready to leave. She stopped by the wooden box by the door that held the few belongings she had. It wasn't many things, but Leliana still grabbed her satchel and stuffed it with her dresses, now many sizes too small, she had grown a lot since coming to live at the house. She closed the satchel, threw one last look at Harry who was still refusing to look at her, then she left the room. In the box, her toy horse remained.

…

"Welcome to your new home," Marjolaine said to the girl as they entered the house. Leliana nodded, lost for words. The house was warm, a large fire in the main room and a luxurious carpet covering the stone floor. Leliana took several deep breaths as she went further into the house. Instead of the smell of mold, unwashed clothes, grime and sweat, Marjolaine's house smeled of flowers, rich Orlesian spices and a perfume that Leliana already recognized as Marjolaine's scent.

"It's not much, I know," Marjolaine said, but her voice was thick with pride for her home. When Leliana looked at her, Marjolaine laughed, she knew her home was grand.

"Where is your husband?" Leliana asked, remembering the angry man she had seen at the market, all those months ago.

"He's dead," Marjolaine said without blinking, "I have been a widow for a couple of months now."

"I'm.. I'mm sorry," Leliana stuttered.

"That's quite alright," Marjolaine said, "life goes on and we must go on with it. What good would it do to my late husband, maker rest his soul, or myself if I spent the rest of my life chained by grieving? No. Let this be your first lesson, my dear Leliana, let what is dead be dead."