Dear readers,

this is where the second section of the story starts. The meeting at the Eluvian is my mind, a threshold, something that definitely introduces new elements of the story and gives new direction to the characters.

I hope you are all enjoying the reading! This is the first novel-length story I've written, and to think that I ideally plan to cover the whole game arc is… sometimes scary. So, any constructive criticism is more than welcome.

Last but not least, I want to thank my awesome beta, mille libri, for her invaluable assistance!

WE'RE JUST PERFORMING OUR ROLE

Dragon 32, August

Leliana sighed in frustration. Sadly, the confused crowd in front of her was as superstitious as it was pious. Those men and women were the most active members of Amaranthine's Chantry, but didn't seem to grasp the difference between a play and reality. As if the Maker didn't have more important concerns than a religious play.

"Look, you're only playing the Betrayer. You are not actually becoming the Betrayer," Leliana explained , for the third time, to the tall, well-built man chosen to play Maferath. "And you," she gestured at the group of four adults who were supposed to play Archon Hessarian, his wife Vasilia, and two supporting Magisters, "are not really Tevinter Magisters." She added, with a thin veil of annoyance in her voice, "You don't even have magic running in your blood. You can rest safely."

"B-but, they say there are spirits in the Fade. Maybe the Betrayer's spirit roams and waits for a soul willing to host him. What if I call for its attention?" Maferath's actor lamented.

"And what if we," the woman playing Vasilia inquired, pointing at herself and her companions, "by pretending that we have magic, end up summoning a demon? Or worse, develop a dormant magical talent?"

Frowning, Leliana took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. An outburst would not help. "Alright. If you experience any kind of weird feelings during the rehearsals, you can tell me. Or the Sisters of the Chantry. Does this work for you?"

Leliana surveyed the crowd. The majority of actors seemed still doubtful, with the exception of the ones chosen for Shartan and Andraste's roles. Despite being an elf, Shartan was one of the "good guys", and the fact that the Hero of Ferelden and Warden Commander was an actual elf was certainly of help in preventing the chosen boy from being ashamed. In response to her words, the actress who would perform Andraste smiled peacefully. She didn't say a word, but after all, she didn't need to—she was completely comfortable with her role. To that girl, Andraste was a pious, gentle soul who had taken arms only to end Tevinter's great evil. When Leliana had begun the auditions for the sacred All Soul's Day play of Amaranthine, every single girl of the city had asked to audition for the role of Andraste. And not a single one of them, not even the chosen candidate, had proved to have the slightest idea about who Andraste truly was: a fierce warrior, willing to kill her enemies to free the world from the Magister's clutches.

Friggin' idiots, Leliana thought, with a bitterness that didn't belong her. Or so she had been sure of, until recently. For a moment, she felt guilty—could she really presume to teach the precepts of faith, when she was only a Lay Sister? A Lay Sister, yes, but one who had spent a significant amount of time by Dorothea's side and had read a considerable amount of sacred tomes and essays.

And you… Why do you say the Maker spoke to you, when all know that the Maker has left? He spoke only to Andraste. Do you believe yourself her equal?

In Orlais, you were someone. In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself, become a drab sister, and disappear. When your brothers and sisters at the cloister criticized you for what you professed, you were hurt, but you also reveled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative.

The Sacred Ashes' Temple Guardian's words came to her mind. Was she being proud in assuming she could teach someone, anyone, who Andraste really was about? Had she been proud in interpreting her vision as words of the Maker meant for her?

"Lady Mahariel?" Maferath's actor called. "Can you—"

"I'm not the Commander's wife," Leliana snapped. "Don't call me that." She knew all too well how, to people, she was Adrian's wife all but in name. She'd been by his side for over a year now, after all. Still, she couldn't bear being addressed as 'Lady Mahariel'—especially since she had found herself wondering if, and when, she could wear that title legally.

"What is going on here?"

The peasant's and Leliana's head turned. Adrian was standing in front of them, a stern expression on his face. The same stern expression he'd worn since his he had gotten back from his mysterious trip. Leliana lingered on the lines on his face. Amaranthine misjudged them for the self-confidence of a Lord, but she didn't. She knew him enough to be sure that something was off, something she couldn't quite catch. He did his best to hide whatever torment was gripping him, she had to give him that—he was flawlessly gentle and passionate with her. Yet, in his gestures there was something… mechanic, almost self-imposed.

"My Lord, we were just—" Maferath's actor began answering.

Adrian interjected before the man could finish speaking. "Whatever it is, don't annoy Lady Leliana. Amaranthine people wish to celebrate All Soul's Day, and I allowed it. Lady Leliana is working tirelessly to do justice to Andraste, so, I am asking you to make her work easier. Not harder. Are we understood?" His tone strict, he stared at the man.

The man bowed his head, as did the other actors. Keeping silent, Leliana glanced at him. Flawlessly thoughtful, Adrian was now self-assured in a completely new way, too. How long since he had asked for her opinion before taking a decision?

Was this new Adrian someone she truly knew? Certainly, Amaranthine had appeared to gain a reliable leader... Maybe a juicy target for lesser Lords and Bhelen's supporters. She barely suppressed a shiver.

§§§

After Adrian's rebuke, Leliana's day had gone truly smoothly. The peasants chosen for the sacred performance had behaved exceptionally well, to the point that the rehearsals were now ahead of schedule.

She entered the area of the Keep inhabited by herself and Adrian. By that time of the evening he was usually holed up in his study, busy working on treaties and pacts—regardless of whether peace reigned or not, a Lord's duty had no end. Upon seeing shadows dance under the door, Leliana hesitated. Apparently, this one was not a usual evening. For the thousandth time, Leliana wondered what had changed him, and once again she was unable to offer herself an answer. Whatever had happened during that secret mission, though, it had changed him from the inside. She still remembered the night of his return, as clear as day.

"I don't like when people eat alone. It happened to me way too many times after the death of my father, and each time I see one of the recruits… or you, in this case, those bad memories resurface."

Leliana raised her eyes from her mutton steak, meeting Nathaniel Howe's eyes. For several moments she stared at him, blankly and without saying a word. Adrian was who knew where, and in choosing to not grill Oghren she had renounced any chance to come to know the truth before talking to Adrian himself. She'd have to give voice to her questions, sooner or later—it was unlikely the Queen was willing to forget the whole matter. However, she would ask Adrian himself.

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I joined you? You look… distressed."

Leliana took a deep breath. "Do as you please, Warden-Constable Howe. It's all the same for me."

She watched him for just a moment as he carefully sat in front of her, before focusing on her untouched mutton once again. Perhaps she should have insisted, asked Oghren more. She had always assumed that Adrian would be back and she could ask himself about his trip, but what if he was dying somewhere instead?

"Leliana, I've swum in the sea of my thoughts long enough to know that if you never stop to rest, you'll drown. And if you do, once he'll be back in Amaranthine you'll be more concerned about enjoying the good news than standing by his side… as he may need you to."

She locked eyes with Nathaniel, and despite her anxiety she couldn't help reading his expression. There was worry on his face. Maybe he was lying. Maybe there was something he was hiding.

The sound of hurried steps drew Leliana's attention. A young boy, one of the Warden Recruits, broke into the room. As the boy located Nathaniel, he rushed towards him.

"The Commander is back, Warden-Constable!"

Leliana forgot about everything. The dinner, the mutton on her plate, the annoyance Nathaniel's words had caused her.

"I'm coming with you," she stated.

Leliana shook her head, closing the window on that memory. She didn't want to think back to what she had seen on Adrian's face that night, nor to the few words they had exchanged. She didn't want to, but Maker help her, she had to steal his secret somehow. She had no other choice, as the Queen would not accept a missing report . And considering how long she had procrastinated, she may as well do it this very night.

Even knowing it was inevitable, somehow the mere idea was insufferable. They were sharing a life, and instead of letting those events go as he had asked her to the only time she had truly inquired, she would open what was obviously still a fresh wound.

The door opened before Leliana. Adrian now stood in front of her, a glimpse of surprise on his face. He had removed his leather armor and chosen to wear more comfortable clothes for that evening, unlike he was used to when he worked until late at night. Furthermore, he had obviously taken a bath a short while ago—his chestnut hair was still half-damp and he smelled of soap.

"I was about to come searching for you," Adrian said, a soft smile on his lips.

As he leaned closer to plant a soft, quick kiss on her cheek, Leliana nodded and strove to offer him a smile. A few words of convenience, a striving smile just like hers. Was there really a point in sharing a life, if all they did was striving?

Behind him, the table was set for two.

"What's that for?" she inquired, when she walked into the room.

Adrian's brow furrowed. He looked confused. "Must there be something going on, for me to offer you a proper dinner?"

Shit. That was not how a lover would have talked. Cursing herself for that slip, Leliana desperately searched for a good excuse.

"I mean… is there any special occasion I'm not aware of? Or, even worse, something I forgot?" She caressed his arm with the tip of her finger.

Adrian's expression slowly relaxed. He drew a deep breath. "A fair question," he agreed, closing the door behind him. "I noticed how the actors chosen for the sacred representation were giving you trouble this morning, so I figured you'd like something to help you forget the long, bad day." He remained silent for a moment, before asking, seriousness in this tone, "Did they bother you further, Leli?"

As Adrian's hand caught hers, their fingers intertwining, she shook her head. "They didn't. The rehearsal was, in fact, incredibly fruitful. And considering how superstitious some of them are, I'm surprised."

Planting a kiss on her knuckles, he led her to the table set for the evening. The dinner awaiting her was nothing special in terms of choice of food, but each single course chosen was something she loved to eat—one plate was full of soup, another of grilled cheese, while a plate of cherries as dessert completed the meal.

Leliana sat, glancing at Adrian. What if she was wrong? Was if his attentions were genuine?

And if they were, how could she trick him into revealing to her something he clearly wished to put behind him?

Sadly, she had to. Trick him, or convince him, or subtly force him to talk, it didn't matter as long as she obtained what she needed. She could only try to be as gentle as possible.

"You look tired," Leliana began.

Adrian's response was a simple shrug. "I never thought being an Arl would be easy. That was why I didn't want to be one in the first place. It is tiring, actually." He immersed the spoon in his soup, flashing her a smile. "Just like old times. You were the one always cooking the soup, when we were encamped."

Leliana smiled in response, this time genuinely, spontaneously. Old times, yes. When she still believed she could be free to pursue her freedom, to have her own family, maybe, after the Blight. Before her smile faded abruptly, she changed the subject. "I could help you, you know? Just like I did some time ago, when you asked for my counsel more often than not. We could… share the burden of the Arling."

This time, Adrian looked away. Seconds before he did, though, she read something on his face. Shame. What could he be ashamed of? The bard that Marjolaine had trained caught sight of the chance. He was vulnerable, and she had always, always taken care of him before. Doing so when he seemed in discomfort, like now, was only a natural move.

Leliana stood, walking until she was in front of Adrian. She bent down, holding his face in her hands. "What's troubling you?" she whispered.

Adrian curled a lock of her hair around his finger. He still wasn't looking directly in her eyes—he was looking down instead. "I can't ask you to do my work… once again. You already did, for far longer than I should have allowed. It would not be fair to you." He looked up, placing his hands on her shoulders then leaning towards her until he embraced her waist and laid his forehead on hers. "I know you. You're ready to give the people you love everything you have, even if it means draining yourself of your own energy. I don't want you to, and I don't even…" Sighing briefly, he shook his head. "I… need to stand on my own feet, Leli."

Such a close contact with the man she deeply loved made Leliana lose her focus for a moment. For just a moment, she was just a woman in her man's arms, who was listening to something that made her happy and proud, something that, even though she would never confess it, somehow assured her she may never perceive him as a load again. In another world, where Anora didn't exist, she would have simply led him to their bed and made love to him, then fallen asleep in his arms. Instead, she silently begged his forgiveness before letting out the words that, she knew very well, would ruin that moment.

"You're this new, self-assured men since after your last mission. Did… something happen? Something that changed you?"

Adrian stiffened in her arms. His face was now a stern mask, and his mouth twisted as if he had just swallowed a bitter medicine. Instead of letting her go, he intensified his grip on her skin. For several seconds, he remained silent. Then, he exhaled a troubled breath. His hand ran along her hip, then her arm, then her shoulder and neck until it found her chin. He gently lifted it until he could stare right into her eyes. "While I was away, something happened. You are right. I…" He chewed on his upper lip. "… I realized something. I realized several things that turned me into a better person. Someone better for you, I hope, than the man I was before." Pressing his mouth on his enough to brush his lips against hers, he murmured, "Please, vhenan, trust me. Trust me, and don't ask me again. Never. Can you do that for me?"

Duty and a deeply rooted love battled in Leliana's mind. As she listened to Adrian's breath on her mouth and cherished his touch, she recalled how many times she had told herself she was taking care of him in yielding to Anora's demands, that all she meant to do was to keep him safe. And yet, by insisting, she would end up hurting him, maybe make him think he hadn't earned her trust. What if, now, he could handle the situation? What if they could work together to get rid of Anora? Inside her inner turmoil, she recognized Marjolane's voice urging her to be cautious. She could always tell him everything another day, when she would be sure of his cold blood. She couldn't flatly lie to him and make a promise she wasn't sure she could keep either. In the end, Leliana discovered, all she wanted was to enjoy the moment and forget about the whole world outside that room.

Not a single word left her lips, as she captured his lower lip with her mouth, caressing his skin with her tongue before turning that playful gesture in a full, passionate kiss. In his mouth searching hungrily for hers, enough to barely let her take a breath once a while, and in the way his hands danced on her body, on her breast and down, down under her smallclothes, she perceived the same passion running in her veins. For once, Adrian wasn't detached in any way from her.

§§§

… just like every time he fucks you, right, Leliana? He drags you to his bed, fucks you fiercely, then the next time he talks to you he's all artificial smiles and gestures.

Leliana opened her eyes in the dark, her breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been a dream, nothing but a dream, but the echo of that voice still resounded in her ears. Realizing she was clasping the sheets, she slowly let go of the fabric.

It was just a dream. Only a dream. And yet she was afraid to close her eyes again. Maybe that stomach-knotting sensation, the idea that even after that evening, even after what they had said each other, she could still feel Adrian… forced towards her, would never leave. Or maybe she was afraid to relive in her mind the night of his return, to see the loss in his eyes and feel how he had rebutted her offer to pass the evening together, to help him relax, once again.

"Are you alright? I… am here if you need something. Anything. Whatever it is."

When Leliana attempted to get close enough to him to offer him a hug, Adrian walked backward, blatantly avoiding her touch and her presence.

"No. No, just… leave me alone," he said, curtly.

Without not even a 'sorry', he turned, leaving her alone with the unpleasant sensation of being just 'someone' to him, and not his woman. In his hour of need, he had utterly refused her and her presence.

Swallowing, Leliana shivered. By her side, Adrian was sleeping with his back to her. That night, he had shut her out and refused her completely. And after all, he had decided not to open his heart to her, too. He could talk all he wanted about 'trust' and use it as an excuse to justify his detachment—it didn't change the fact that he had chosen to keep her in the dark about something so important that had changed him into someone new. Whether she and Adrian strove or not, was there really a point in sharing a life, if all they did was hiding something from each other?

Leliana drew a deep breath.

Whatever the answer, she needed help to protect him. Even more, if she chose to respect his desires and never question him again. She needed someone who knew how assassins thought and how to counteract their efforts, someone who cared for Adrian enough to put such knowledge to use with the right dedication.

She needed Zevran.