Author's Note: As always, my deepest thanks to those who read/fave/follow this tale, with shout-outs to my always amazing reviewers: Drummerchick7, Echoes of Fantasy, dominicgrim, mcdorfman, SuperGravyMan, DeanneYunFarron, jnybot, KalenCaelli & AD Lewis.
Also as always, disclaimer is in chapter 1.
Wynne had never been one to sit back and wait. In her younger days, she had always been the first to volunteer when a summons was received for the aid of the Circle. Even when her experience made her more valuable as a teacher to the young, the siren's call of adventure kept calling to her, though her duties permitted fewer and fewer opportunities to answer. Age had slowed her step, stiffened her joints, but it had not quelled her hunger for a challenge; she had not hesitated when the call had come to fight beside the King at Ostagar.
Still, one of the reasons that she was permitted to go out, and frequently without a templar escort, was that she was prudent, always respecting the magic that she wielded, only taking those risks that were necessary. As a young woman, she had been motivated primarily by the knowledge that bad behavior would curtail her excursions; as she had gained in experience, she had seen others fall victim to their own rash actions and pride, learning from their mistakes, as well as her own. Now, though she was known among the other Circle elders as a bit of a maverick (most of them had been more than content to stay in the comfort of the Tower and teach), to those younger than herself, she had become accustomed to being the voice of reason.
So what, in Andraste's name, was she doing following a pirate through a hidden tunnel beneath Denerim, a city where their likenesses were probably still adorning reward posters, and bound for a brothel, of all places? And was it really possible that she was enjoying this decidedly un-prudent, unreasonable adventure?
Damn right, she was.
She had tried, that first night, to dissuade Talia from her plan.
"You need to think carefully about what you are proposing," she urged the Warden. "You are letting your feelings dictate your actions."
"What else would you have me do?" Talia asked her, her voice low. Leliana had retired to her tent in tears when she had been unable to sway the warrior from her intent, and Talia's eyes shifted there now, clearly not wanting the bard to overhear. "Move forward knowing that we have somebody behind us sending out assassins? Or abandon someone who has been a loyal companion and ally? Is that what Grey Wardens do?"
"Is that really why you are doing this?" Wynne pressed her. The heart that had drawn her out on many an adventure could not argue with the younger woman's words, but the head stubbornly reminded her what was at stake. "I've seen the way the two of you look at each other. I can't tell you what to feel, and I don't want to," she added as Talia's eyes darkened with anger, "but you cannot let those feelings override the duty that you and Alistair have to Ferelden. You are the last two Grey Wardens -"
"So we should wrap ourselves in wool and wait for the archdemon to appear?" Talia shook her head with a snort. "Wynne, by that logic, we shouldn't be doing any of what we're doing!"
"There are risks that must be taken, and those that shouldn't be."
"And taking care of the people that follow us is a risk we shouldn't be taking?" The warrior's eyes regarded her with a look of bitter disappointment that cut to the quick. "The end justifies the means, and anybody who becomes a hindrance is left in the dust? I can't do that Wynne. I won't." Her voice was controlled, resolute. "Could you?"
She hesitated. The choice was an easy one in the abstract, but did the end truly justify the means? If so, what did that say of Loghain's actions? Ferelden could ill afford to lose its two remaining Wardens, but if they turned their backs on their allies in the name of expedience...what then? "I do not know," she sighed at last.
"I'll make it even easier," Talia responded. "It's your decision: do we follow Zev's plan, sneak into Denerim and deal with this, or are you going to tell Leliana that she can leave? You know she'll do it; she'd be gone now if I hadn't promised her that I'd have Brego track her." She crossed her arms and cocked her head, waiting, calm and unwavering, already sure of what the mage's response would be.
So many changes in just a few weeks. The tempering process that had begun in earnest in the temple of the Urn had continued after they had left, fed by the fire that Talia carried in her heart. This was not a rebellious youth defying her, but their leader refusing her counsel and challenging her...knowing her. In spite of the conflicting imperatives that warred within her, she felt a spark of pride. "You win," she conceded, shaking her head with a rueful chuckle, "but you do realize that this is insane?"
Talia laughed suddenly, the unexpected sound as bright as the sun breaking through clouds. "Maker, Wynne! Can you name one thing about what we're trying to do that isn't crazy?" She grinned at the mage. "If any of us were sane, we wouldn't be here!"
The words should have sounded bitter, cynical, but Talia's voice was strong and sure, and that artless smile stirred something within the mage: something that she hadn't realized had gone to sleep until she felt it waking. Almost against her will – certainly against her better judgment – she found herself returning the smile. "You do have a point."
The smile gave way to a more serious mien, the dark eyes growing earnest. "If you ever think I'm doing something for Leliana that I wouldn't do for any of the others, including you, I expect you to call me on it. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
And so it was that Zevran set out the next morning ahead of them, meeting them just over five days later to guide them to the entrance of the hidden tunnel, and Wynne the practical, Senior Enchanter of the Circle, found herself following Isabela's torch through the darkness, her heart racing with a rebellious exhilaration that it hadn't known since her years as an apprentice, anticipating taking the fight to an enemy. The passage was old, the stones in its floor worn by the passage of many feet, and there were puddles in the low places, water that had seeped in from the river that lay overhead.
"Here we are." A blank wall loomed up in the guttering, golden light of the torch, iron rungs driven into the stone stretching upward. They seemed stout, but there was no possibility that they would support Shale, nor was stealth an option with close to a ton of stone in the group; the golem had stayed behind, waiting just inside the entrance to the tunnel with his usual stoic patience. The pirate set the torch into a bracket on the wall and stepped to the side, gesturing to the ladder with a flourish.
"Welcome to the Pearl, ladies and gentlemen...and Zev."
Leliana was in a state approaching full fledged panic as she stood waiting her turn to ascend the ladder. Why hadn't she just run? Surely she could have eluded Brego; she had outwitted hounds before, though admittedly not mabari.
That Marjolaine had found her after so much time was terrifying enough, but she had also known enough to know where to send her assassins, which made it certain that she knew about the others, about Talia. Those she had sent had not been meant to kill, but to taunt: to make certain that Leliana knew that she was being hunted...and by whom.
It had always been a game to Marjolaine, though the rules were constantly changing, according to the situation and her whims. Sometimes, the target must not be aware of your intentions until you achieved them, but in this case, it would not have suited her for Leliana to be killed outright and unknowing. The attack in the forest had been nothing more than her opening move.
"Up you go, boy." Talia and Alistair were beneath Brego, pushing at his haunches as his massive paws scrabbled at the rungs.
"Andraste's flaming sword!" Alistair abruptly averted his head away from the hound's back end with a sick expression. "What has he been eating?"
"The usual." Talia seemed unaffected by the smell, which quickly spread throughout the tunnel. "Whatever he can catch, plus whatever he can beg."
"Well, whoever's been feeding him cabbage can stop. I can't believe you share a tent with that!"
"If being downwind of your armor hasn't killed me..."
The banter that would usually have brought a smile to Leliana's face now only heightened her agitation. How could they joke at a time like this? Marjolaine would kill them all, if she had the chance, and make Leliana watch while she did it. And if she knew of her former protégée's feelings for Talia...
She would kill the Warden, yes, but not before she made sure to tell her everything: all the details of the life of an Orlesian bard that Talia had never pressed her for. Deceptions, manipulations, seductions, assassinations. Only after she had done that, after she had extinguished the new light that was in Talia's eyes when she looked at Leliana, buried it beneath the weight of the past, would she take her life. And Leliana would be forced to watch both.
"Leliana?"
Only she, Alistair, Isabela and Talia remained, and the Warden was holding out a hand to her expectantly. She stared at it, unmoving, and when Talia took a step forward, she took a hasty step back.
A frown flickered across Talia's face and was gone. "You two go on up," she said without turning around. Alistair looked dubious, but obeyed; the pirate glanced between them with a knowing smirk that made the bard itch to slap her, then turned and followed the other Warden up the ladder.
Now. She could run, but to what end? If she had left earlier, Talia might have abandoned her plan to bring the fight to Marjolaine, but she would not now.
"Leliana?" Talia held out her hand again; her face was lost in the shadow of the torch's backlight, but the bard could feel her worried gaze. "It's all right."
"No, it's not." She shook her head, a sob escaping her. "You don't know her, Talia. You - why didn't you just let me go?" The last was no more than a whisper.
"Why did you kiss me?"
The question took her completely by surprise, and she sagged back against the tunnel wall. "Not now," she pleaded, eyes beseeching. "Do not ask me that now, Talia. Please."
The Warden nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving the bard's face. "All right," she agreed, "but until I get an answer, I won't let you go."
She took a careful step forward, and Leliana trembled, wanting to turn and run, wanting to fling herself into the Warden's arms and -
"After." Her voice was hoarse, her mouth dry. She swallowed, tried again. "If we are still alive after, if you still want an answer, I will give it then." Even if they did kill Marjolaine, she would do her best to spill her poison, salt the earth in her wake, destroy any happiness that Leliana had managed to achieve.
"I'll wait," Talia promised, "and I'm not going to let her hurt you. I've almost lost you twice now." Somehow, she had managed to close more of the distance between them without Leliana noticing, and her hand came up, the back of her fingers gently brushing the tears from the Orlesian's cheek. "Not again."
A ragged laugh forced itself from Leliana's throat. "It's not my own safety I'm worried about, you idiot," she said, managing not to tilt her head into the touch. "She'll kill the rest of you before she deals with me." Her confidence that her companions were more than a match for her former mentor had been badly shaken by the unexpected appearance of the assassins.
"She can try." Talia's grin was wolfish, teeth gleaming white in the darkness. "Now come on."
Leliana hesitated. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish, Talia. Not for my sake."
The Warden chuckled. "I've already had this talk with Wynne," she said. "I know what's at stake, and I promise to be good. Now, will you make the same promise?"
The bard nodded wordlessly and moved toward the ladder, only to find her path blocked. "Promise," Talia pressed her, the glow of the torch casting her features into a flickering play of light and shadow. "Say it, Leliana."
"I -" She stared up at the Warden. Her Warden. No, she scolded herself for the thought, unable to shake the superstitious dread that acknowledging her feelings, even to herself, would doom them to be shattered, one way or another. "I promise."
Talia nodded, then bent unexpectedly to steal a kiss, the brush of her lips fleeting and clumsy, but more than enough to set Leliana's heart aflutter like a trapped bird.
The warrior drew back, looking suddenly shy and more than a bit surprised at her own boldness. "We'll do this," she said quietly, her gaze unwavering, "and then we'll talk."
Leliana could not meet her eyes. Ducking her head, she mumbled as much of an agreement as her growing sense of foreboding would allow and reached for the ladder.
"I was beginning to think that our strategy was to allow our target to expire of old age and boredom," Morrigan remarked as she emerged into a large, low-ceilinged room.
"Stow it, Morrigan," Alistair growled as he held out a hand to steady the last few steps of her ascent. Talia was close behind, scrambling through the trapdoor before he could offer to assist her. She turned slowly, her dark eyes alert as they searched the room, finally coming to rest on Isabela and the woman who had entered the room to stand beside the pirate.
"Lady Cousland." The woman was a few years past her prime, but still quite attractive, shorter than Isabela, with a lush figure and thick chestnut hair that fell in waves over pale shoulders left bare by the cut of her crimson dress. She inclined her head to the Warden gracefully. "I am Sanga, the owner of the Pearl." Her voice was a rich contralto that hesitated briefly before adding, "I knew your brother, before he was married, of course. He was a good man. You have my sympathy for your loss."
The shadow of pain flitted across Talia's features and was gone. She accepted the woman's words with a curt nod, saying, "Just 'Talia' will do; Grey Wardens have no titles."
"As you wish," Sanga replied graciously. "You'll have to pardon the accommodations. There's no shortage of prying eyes upstairs, and one set of loose lips flapping to the wrong person is all it would take. Stay down here, then leave by that door." She nodded toward a set of heavy, wooden doors at the top of a ramp that presumably led up to street level.
"How much for the use of your tunnel and this room?" Talia wanted to know.
"Five sovereigns a head," the woman said, her tone becoming businesslike.
"Five sovereigns?" Alistair exclaimed in an outraged voice, while Wynne simply gave Sanga a disapproving look.
"That's half what she charges for normal traffic," Isabela informed them with a crooked grin.
Leliana had heard of the Pearl when she'd still been in Val Royeaux, and knew it was not unusual for brothel owners to engage in activities that skirted the law to add to their profits. The existence of a smuggler's tunnel was no real surprise, and the cost to use it would of course be high, but Leliana still felt a sick twist of guilt in her gut at the price; it was going to cut steeply into what they had taken out of Ostagar. Because of her.
Talia didn't blink. "Pay the lady, people," she ordered, digging into her own belt pouch and pulling out five gold pieces. "The dog too?"
Sanga shook her head, smiling at Brego, who had stretched out on the floor, his eyes fixed on the two women with an alertness that belied his lazy pose. "Not unless he's carrying cargo."
As the rest of them paid Sanga, Talia's gaze shifted to Isabela. "And how much for your assistance?"
"Well, we could always take it out in trade," the pirate said in a suggestive tone, looking the Warden up and down approvingly. She was an exotic beauty, with dusky skin that suggested Rivaini blood, mahogany hair held back beneath a bright blue bandanna and curves put on bold display by a low-cut chemise and thigh-high leather boots. Jealousy flared white-hot, and Leliana felt her hands curling into fists almost of their own volition, but Talia merely waited expressionless until Isabela chuckled, amber eyes flicking briefly toward the bard before she continued:
"I owed Zevran a favor. This squares us."
Talia looked askance at the elf, one eyebrow raised. Zevran simply shrugged carelessly, and the Warden turned her attention back to the pirate.
"What do you know?"
"The woman you are interested in arrived in Denerim perhaps a month ago, as best as I've been able to determine," Isabela began, leaning back against a crate, all business now. "She's leased a large house in the market district - the address you specified – and seems to reside there with a retinue of servants and bodyguards, including a number of qunari." She glanced sideways at Sten, who stared back impassively, before continuing.
"I've had my crew watching the house for the last two days; she is still there, and has had no visitors that they've seen. She does, however, keep at least two lookouts posted out of sight near the house at all times."
"She's expecting us." It was a statement, not a question, and the roiling in Leliana's stomach intensified.
"That she is," Isabela agreed simply, "and you, in particular, I suspect." There was neither malice nor contempt in the pirate's tone, but the bard flinched at the words, just the same.
"She came here a few times when she first came to town," Sanga spoke up, her blue eyes flinty. "Always picked the redheads, and her tastes were a little exotic, but she paid well, so none of them complained." Exotic. Leliana couldn't look at Talia; if the Maker was merciful, the floor would simply open and swallow her up. "The last time she was here, though, Dani's screams brought the bouncers. They had to break down the door, and the bitch got away through the window. It took two days to get my girl healed up. Take a few strips of her hide for that, while you're at it."
Leather and metal creaked. Leliana lifted her eyes enough to see Talia's gauntleted fist curled tight around Starfang's hilt. "Consider it done."
"How are you planning on doing this?" Isabela wanted to know.
Another creak of armor as Talia shrugged. "Go in, kill her, leave? Apart from those key points, I'm open to suggestion."
"That's good," the pirate replied, "because getting there is going to be the real challenge. Your target is looking for your friend." Leliana didn't need to look up to know who Isabela was pointing to. "And the Denerim guard is looking for the two Grey Wardens -accompanied by a qunari, an Antivan elf, an Orlesian bard, a Circle mage, a maleficar and a mabari war-hound – did I miss anyone?" She glanced around with a smirk before continuing, "who made the Arl of Denerim shit his silk tights a few weeks back. As a group, you are quite...distinctive."
"So, disguises, then?" Talia asked, giving no sign that she even noticed the reference to Rendon Howe.
"Only minimal," Zevran stepped in smoothly. "People tend to see what they expect to see, for good or for ill. Give them that, and you do not need much in the way of disguise. They look for two Wardens with a large group of companions. If we move through the market district in two or three smaller groups, we should attract no undue attention.
"Fortunately, it's cool enough at night that cloaks are common," Isabela put in, "which means that you should be able to get away with wearing your armor, but I'd leave the shields here. As for getting inside the house, they change the guard at midnight, which is roughly two hours from now. Right now, they've got a qunari in an alley across from the house and an elf on a rooftop nearby. Replace them with your own men, and my crew will help take out their relief when they arrive; that'll be four less that you have to deal with inside. My crew will keep watch outside the house to make sure you're not disturbed. When you're done, come back here and leave the way you came in."
"That must have been quite the favor," Talia murmured, glancing quizzically at Zevran again.
"It was...and it's none of your business," Isabela replied with no hint of rancor. "I'm also rather fond of Dani, and she still has nightmares of what that bitch did to her."
Leliana closed her eyes, remembering all too well those rare occasions when she had earned Marjolaine's displeasure, and had not learned of it until she had been in bed with her lover, naked and helpless. The older woman became someone that Leliana did not recognize on such occasions; tears and screams seemed only to excite her further, so the girl had learned to hold them in until the storm passed and the Marjolaine she knew – or thought she knew - returned to comfort her with honeyed words and gentle touches. And now, the wrath that was directed at her had been vented on an innocent.
She swayed and immediately felt Talia's arm around her, steadying her. "It's not your fault," the warrior murmured.
"And if one of you gets killed, whose fault will it be?" she demanded, trying to maintain control. She would be no use if she fell apart.
"So, the archdemon is supposed to fear us, but one woman should not?" Talia sounded almost amused at the notion, and Leliana knew that if she looked up, she would find the dark eyes gleaming with gentle humor, urging her to smile. She did not look up, choosing instead to simply lean into the Warden's shoulder, needing the comfort of her presence, but afraid to tempt fate by seeking more. The way she put it made sense, but Leliana could not seem to make herself think rationally. "Do you want to stay here?"
"No!" She did look up now, stepping away from Talia, stung to the quick by the question, however kindly it had been meant. "This fight is mine; bad enough that the rest of you have been dragged in."
"Then act as though you are capable of fighting," Morrigan demanded tartly, "and not like some fainting Chantry flower who wilts at the prospect of bloodshed!"
The words kindled an anger that was a welcome alternative to the weight of despair. She drew herself up, her jaw set. "I will fight," she said, glaring defiantly at the witch, "and I will kill her, if I can."
"You won't fight alone," Talia told her. "None of us does...do we, Morrigan?" The words were mildly spoken, but the witch flushed and looked away in obvious discomfort. "We fight together," she went on, her voice hardening as she glanced around at the others. "By choice. Anyone who doesn't want to be here can leave." Her expression said what her words did not: anyone who did leave for this fight would not be welcomed back after they left Denerim.
Each of them met her eyes without looking away, some of them nodding slightly in affirmation. Even Wynne, who should by all rights be apoplectic at the needless risk they were taking, nodded without a trace of hesitation, her lips curving in an enigmatic smile.
"All right, then," Talia said with a nod of satisfaction. "This is how we're going to do it..."
A.N. - Bela didn't require as much editing as I thought. I did add a physical description to replace the rather vague one that was there originally, but the attitude was already present. I think I'll do a Stolen Moments chapter with Leliana making her farewells to the Hawke siblings; I'm rather looking forward to the point that I bring those two storylines together.
I really liked the way Wynne's POV at the beginning came together; it maintained her 'voice of reason' role while reawakening the spirit of adventure that I suspect was much more dominant in her youth. Duty drives her now, but even in the game's limited interactions, thanks to Susan Boyd Joyce's talent, I caught hints of the girl she was, and I wanted to bring that out. I gave the talk between she and Talia quite a bit of thought, and I think that Talia's reasoning is sound. She's definitely got a greater motivation to protect Leliana now, but I think she would have made the same decision on behalf of any of the others. Arguments could be made for parting ways with an ally who has become a danger to the group, but that is simply not who she and Alistair are.
Logic gap admission: I have no idea how Zev knew that Isabela would be in Denerim. Maybe he just got lucky – he is Zev, after all. But I needed to get them into Denerim, and while having the last two Grey Wardens wandering through the capitol at will without attracting any attention might have been marginally plausible in the game, no way was it happening to my crew after the way they left town a few chapters back.
And while Shale did have a decent back-story & made an interesting enough companion in the game, why did no one ever notice that your group included a one ton chunk of walking, talking, glowing rock?
