A/N: Sorry, one of those necessary and unexciting chapters to keep the plot moving forward.
Promises Kept, Promises Broken
The morning was surprisingly warm and sunny. A northern wind blew in off the Waking Sea and spiced the air with salt and pine. Snow puddled as it melted under the sun's stare. If Leonie closed her eyes she could almost smell Spring's sweet approach. It was nearly impossible to be gloomy in the face of the day's good cheer. A false spring, Loghain had called it.
She stood on the battlements, overlooking the arling. Her cloak hung around her shoulders, unneeded in the zephyr that blew lovingly along her skin. A restful night followed by a rejuvenating morning was just what the healer ordered. She smiled at that.
Anders, under the effects of wine and love, had been gregarious and effusive the previous night, embarrassing Loghain several times with remarks designed for just that purpose. This morning he had carefully avoided Loghain and complained to Leonie once again that Loghain was a scary man. She had assured him that Loghain was only scary to those who had good reason to fear him.
Relinquishing command was proving difficult for her. She felt now, standing in the sun, like she was a useless appendage and it was a feeling she had not experienced since her early days as a junior Warden at Lydes. A lifetime ago when duty and honor drove her relentlessly, naively, forward. She had lost her first fellow Warden there, made so many mistakes as she learned the intricacies of battle and command.
An ache, deep within her, stirred to life. A longing for the sight of the vineyards near Val Foret, Val Vin Paradisiaque, filled her, making the ache sharper. She would have to talk to Loghain, let him know that she wanted to see Orlais before she took her Calling, wanted to say good bye to the places of her youth.
Her youth. She laughed unhappily. She was about to turn thirty, too young to consider death, yet she had to consider the possibility, the probability. Her fingers rubbed at her wrist. No other spots had appeared. Loghain had told her his theory and Leonie knew that she should speak to Jarren and Fiona. She should put Jarren's distress at ease. She had tried the previous night but he had been inconsolable and maybe that was not such a bad thing. Fiona had no excuses, however, and Leonie was scheduled to meet with her shortly.
With a backward glance at the peaceful blue sky, Leonie entered the Vigil and made her way down to the laboratory. Jarren was already there, bent over the journals. He looked up and snapped upright, closing the book with a snap and jerking to his feet.
"Good morning Commander Leonie," he mumbled, eyes downcast.
Leonie's grin was brief. "Just Warden Leonie at the moment so you may call me Leonie," she replied, stepping into the room. "You are able to decipher the journals?"
"Not entirely. Fiona isn't the only one who knows ancient Arcanum. Not," he added quickly, "that I know it as well as she does."
"I will not keep you from your work, Jarren. I just wanted you to know that I do not blame you for this," Leonie said softly, rubbing again at the spot on her wrist.
"Well you should. I think I'd feel better if you did, actually," Jarren muttered.
"If you have learned a lesson than nothing else needs to be said, yes?"
"I am sorry," he said, a heartfelt apology. He looked miserable, woeful. Leonie nodded slowly. It was obvious in his very stance that he was sorry.
"I know," she answered kindly, turning away.
Varel was waiting just outside her office. "Arlessa Leonie," he began and Leonie sighed dramatically.
"I finally get rid of my title as commander in the hope that you call me Leonie and still you find a formal means of address."
Varel gave Leonie a brief, but warm, smile. "As you say, Arlessa Leonie."
She beckoned him in and went to sit at her desk. He waited until she was seated before sitting down across from her. "Court is being held tomorrow. Will you be in attendance?"
"You must ask Loghain if he will be in attendance, yes? He is the Commander of the Grey of Ferelden at present and thus the Arl of Amaranthine is he not?"
Varel looked startled and Leonie's lips twitched. "So you see, Varel, you may call me Leonie, yes?"
"As you say, Lady Leonie," he replied.
"Varel, if anyone ever tells you that you are not a stubborn man you have my permission to call them a liar," she replied with a chuckle.
Varel's dry smile graced his features for a brief flash before disappearing behind his obvious concern. "I've heard some very odd rumors today," he said with his usual forthright manner.
"If the rumor involves the onset of my Calling, I am afraid there may be more truth than rumor in that," she said calmly. Each time she thought it, every time she said it, the truth became minimally easier to bear.
"But you're going to Ostagar and the Wilds?" he asked, a note of disapproval creeping into his usually measured, neutral tones.
"I am still a Warden and my Calling is still many, many months away, Varel. Would you have me sit in a chair and wait for my death to come to me or have me live my life on my own terms?" she asked, smiling fondly at him.
"I would rather you took care of yourself and fought this," he replied gravely.
"I need to do this, Varel. I know how to cleanse the heart of the Blightstorm and there may be much we can learn from examining the area. The tainted land is spreading, according to Travis. I have already waited longer than I should have."
"Why can't Warden Fiona do it?" he persisted.
"She has not been a field Warden for over twenty years. She knows nothing of what we face each day," Leonie replied, her voice reflecting her dissatisfaction with Fiona.
"An unhappy history," he remarked with a hint of a smile as he stood up.
"She is loyal to Weisshaupt, I am loyal to the Grey Wardens," she said simply, as if that explained the chasm between the two women.
After Varel was gone, Leonie waited for Fiona. She could hear Loghain thundering about something in his office but she remained at her desk, trying to let go of the reins of command. If he felt compelled to tell her why he was in a towering rage, he would. She suspected he was unleashing his frustration and she felt a twinge of pity for whoever was bearing the brunt of it.
Fiona arrived a minute later, her expression a curious mixture of grim determination and apology. Leonie waved her into a chair and waited for the elf to speak first.
"I had no idea, Leonie. You must know I wouldn't have ordered him to do anything to jeopardize your health," Fiona said; apologetic, yet still proud and cool.
"Indeed. I will not be much of a research subject if I am dead, yes?" Leonie responded wryly, but with an undertone of condemnation.
The elf flushed, eyes shadowed. Fiona leaned forward. "We were friends, Leonie. I would hope we still are," the elf said with prickly resolve.
"We were. Yet you are here and I cannot imagine it is a friendly visit."
"I came to help discover the truth. When we received word of the Architect, I left Weisshaupt immediately," Fiona said stiffly.
"Yet the first word of talking darkspawn should have reached Weisshaupt quite some time ago. I cannot help but wonder why it took you so long to arrive, if you were here to help?"
Fiona, her slender body rigid, looked at Leonie with wide brown eyes. "There are archives somewhere in the Blasted Hills that might help. I tried to get permission to go into the area and search but with the tensions between Nevarra and Orlais, it proved impossible. That took longer than I had hoped. You know how slowly diplomatic channels work, Leo, especially in Orlais."
Leonie heard the sincerity in Fiona's voice, knew instinctively that she was telling the truth. "How do you know there are archives in the Blasted Hills?" she queried, her voice marginally warmer.
"After the experiments, when it was suspected that the third Blight was started as a direct result of those experiments, it was decided that the Joining they had devised, no matter how nobly intended, was too dangerous to use. The documents I found in the First Warden's archives contained a mention of a hidden Grey Warden archive, established in the event that Weisshaupt fell. The documents indicate that the original notes and the formula were taken there and hidden, along with a number of other important documents.
"The Wardens were also concerned that others might find out about what happened and they feared it would destroy the Grey Wardens. No matter how evil they appear, their intent was noble. We both know how necessary Grey Wardens are. Would we be welcomed if the general populace knew about this or the cause of the fifth Blight?"
Leonie frowned thoughtfully. "Then why not just destroy the notes?" she asked and then another thought occurred to her and it took her breath away. She leaned forward, hands clasped tightly.
"Is this the real reason for the Grey Warden involvement in the tensions between Nevarra and Orlais?"
Fiona was going to lie. Leonie, watching the older woman, saw the second Fiona decided that a lie was necessary. Sighing heavily, Leonie shook her head. "Do not think to lie, Fiona. We have been through too much," she instructed, disappointed.
"The truth is complicated, Leo. I'm not sure I completely understand. I think there are Wardens in Nevarra who suspect there is something of great worth in those mining tunnels. There are Wardens in Orlais who want to know why the Nevarran Wardens are so interested in those tunnels. No matter how much we want to believe that all Wardens can separate themselves from their national loyalties, not all of them can. There is a real schism between the Orlesian Wardens and the Nevarran Wardens currently and it is made more so by the rumors of what might lie in the hidden archives."
Leonie rubbed her head, agitated by the thought. "They have some misguided notion that I can be used as a weapon, or that my blood can be. How would they come to think such a thing?" she pondered aloud.
Fiona's face reddened and she had the grace to look ashamed. "That is my fault, I think. My last assistant was not very trustworthy. Some of my notes went missing about the same time he did."
"And these notes made mention of me?" Leonie prompted when the other woman fell silent. "Or made mention of my blood?"
"Your name wasn't mentioned but enough people remember your visit to Weisshaupt and the reason for it to put a name to the person mentioned in the notes."
Leonie stood up, nervous energy forcing her limbs into action. There were questions that waited impatiently to be asked but she found herself unwilling to voice many of them. She went to the window, blinking at the bright sun reflecting off the melting snow. "Am I a danger to those who are not Wardens?" she finally managed to ask, unconsciously rubbing at her wrist.
"No."
A simple, short answer that should reassure her but didn't. "How can you be so sure?"
"I know from personal experience and I'll leave it at that."
Leonie's relief flickered through her, a small flame. The thought that she might infect Varel or Aura or anyone else had made her sick with worry. She was silent, still unwilling to ask the other questions that beat a steady tattoo in her head.
"Would you tell me about Alistair?" Fiona asked quietly.
Surprised, Leonie came and sat in the chair beside Fiona and took the older mage's hand in hers. "He is a good man," Leonie said with soft conviction. For the next hour she told Fiona what he had gone through in the past two years.
She had promised herself if she ever got the chance she would try and talk Fiona into acknowledging her son and forming a relationship with him. That was foremost in her mind as Leonie talked about Alistair.
"Yes, what is – oh, Travis. Come in," Loghain said curtly. He bent over the vellum in front of him and finished writing.
When he had finished the letter to Nila Gilmore, Loghain set the quill back in its stand and motioned to a chair. He sat back, waiting for the shaman to tell him the reason for the visit. Travis rubbed his hands together and made an odd, chirping sound.
"You were right to tell her," Travis told him.
"Was I? I'm not entirely sure that's true. I catch her looking lost when she thinks I'm not watching her. She'll be thirty years old in a week. That's much too young to see your own demise looming."
Loghain's voice was cool and unemotional, completely at odds with the way he felt inside. He would gladly, willingly, give his life in exchange for hers. He turned his gaze away from Travis, whose quizzical stare seemed preternaturally able to read Loghain's thoughts.
"I have word from my tribe, Loghain. We need to get to the Wilds soon. I'm not sure we can wait for the original plan," Travis said, surprising him by the change in topic.
Loghain leaned forward, elbows on his desk, attention focused. "Why? What's happening in the Wilds?"
"Darkspawn attacks are on the rise again. My tribe is on the move, heading north along the old Imperial Highway towards Lothering. They can meet us in Lothering or wait just north of Ostagar for our arrival. They can replace the foot soldiers and if we ride hard we can be in Ostagar in seven days."
Loghain nodded thoughtfully. "Your tribe is willing to help?" he asked in surprise. It was a completely unnecessary question, he realized. Travis was revered among his tribe. His word was still followed without question.
"Naturally. They're anxious for Leonie to cleanse the heart of the Blightstorm."
"Leonie isn't going with us," Loghain said quietly but firmly. "She can tell me how to cleanse the area. I'm sure it isn't that difficult a procedure."
Travis clucked his displeasure at the news. "She isn't going to like the idea and I won't blame her. If you were in her place would you want to give up your command and then sit about, waiting for your death?" he chided. "Besides, I'm sure I heard you promise her you wouldn't do that sort of thing. Was that just an empty promise?"
Loghain bit back a harsh reply. Travis was only telling Loghain what he already knew. He had also promised not to write her mother about her condition. He was breaking promises every time he took a breath.
"Strategically it makes sense to bring her. She's your most seasoned Warden," Travis continued, ignoring Loghain's warning growl of annoyance. "There are dangers here if she stays, the research has already proven that," Travis added with a quiet authority that gave Loghain pause.
"If you do not bring me, you force me to get there on my own and we all know how terrible I am with directions," Leonie added quietly, entering Loghain's office from their adjoining door. She stood calmly assessing him, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes cool.
"If they discover a way to neutralize your symptoms you will need to be here," Loghain reasoned, matching her tone.
"I do not believe that a week or two will make a difference, Commander Loghain," she said and her use of his temporary title made him mentally wince.
"Don't you think you'd be better served staying here and overseeing the research?" he tried again.
It wasn't that he wanted to be separated from her. If her Calling had started he wanted to be there for her, to help in any way he could, though it sounded like there wasn't much he could do, short of killing her if it came to that. He shuddered and looked away from her. He wasn't sure he could do it and yet his duty bade him do so. She would be a danger if she went into the Deep Roads alone, given what they had learned.
"You will not need to," Leonie assured him, striding briskly to him. She stood beside his desk, not touching him, just watching him with a sorrowful look in her eyes. He noticed then that she was not wearing her commander's plate, instead wearing her plain and serviceable plate. It struck him deeply just what she was giving up and he growled angrily at how unfair it was. But then life had seldom been fair, it wasn't meant to be fair.
"What do you mean?" he asked stiffly. How could she know what he was thinking? Had it shown on his face or was she a witch? He had thought so at times with her uncanny ability to read his thoughts and anticipate his actions.
"I have this," she said by way of reply, showing him an amulet with a small vial attached to it. Without asking, he knew it was the poison that Nathaniel had created for her, quick acting and painless. He had thought she'd gotten rid of it. Why was she so adept at keeping her promises and he seemed to always break them?
"We leave tomorrow at first light," he said, disgruntled and ungracious.
"As you wish, Commander Loghain," she replied, a light note of triumph in her voice. He glared at her and she smiled glibly. "I await any further orders, ser."
"Insolent chit," he muttered, not without affection. He rubbed his aching temples. "See that Varel instructs the stable master," he said and watched as she turned and made her way out of the room. He couldn't help but wonder if he would be so gracious had the roles been reversed. In truth, he would not.
"Tell your tribesmen to meet us here," Loghain said, moving to the map and pointing to a small town between Lothering and Ostagar. A small town was a kind description. A collection of farm buildings with a small shop and inn attached to a barn. Sorrel's Flats.
It was guilt, he realized, as he set about making preparations for their departure. He felt guilty. Not about taking over command, but because he enjoyed being in command. That thought did little to ease the tension that rode like a familiar companion between his shoulders.
Loghain didn't see Leonie again until dinner. His day had been filled with paperwork, instructions and meetings. Moving up their travel date came with a host of unforeseen headaches. He entered the dining hall to find her sitting with Phillipe at a table tucked into a dark corner. The Wardens were all at the usual table and he hesitated briefly before making his way over to sit with his fellow Wardens.
"How long will you be gone?" Nathaniel asked quietly, sliding into the spot beside Loghain.
"Three weeks, with luck. Count on four. I'm depending on you to keep the Wardens in shape. We'll send any possible recruits we encounter to you. They'll have a letter sealed with the Commander's signet."
"Yes Commander Loghain," Nathaniel said and there was just a hint of discontent or disapproval in the younger man's voice. Or maybe it was his own sensitivity that was making him hear and see things that weren't there.
"Keep an eye on the research. Make sure that they are following the procedures I drafted this afternoon. Fiona has a copy."
"Yes Commander."
Loghain glanced around the table to find every Warden watching him. His frown deepened. "Is there a problem?" he asked coolly.
"No, it's just…you are bringing her back, aren't you?" Tamra finally asked in timorously. He glared at each Warden briefly before his eyes came back to meet Tamra's.
"Of course I am!" he growled angrily. Tamra blushed and dropped her gaze.
"Sorry, Loghain, it's just that we thought she'd be staying at the Vigil," Anders said, flashing a slightly apologetic smile at him.
"Well you thought wrong. If any of you knew her as well as you claim, you'd know she would rather cut her arm off than stay behind. She needs to do this," he admonished them all. Damned hypocrite, he thought as he reached for the mug of ale that Aura had set before him.
"Be ready at first light," he ordered Anders and then stalked out of the dining hall and up the stairs.
Later, when sleep seemed merely another broken promise, Loghain felt Leonie slide out of bed. He watched in the low light of the glowing embers from the fire as she slipped into her wrapper and moved quietly to the door.
"Not able to sleep?" he asked, curious and concerned.
She turned, startled, but smiled sheepishly. "Hungry," she confessed.
She was back within a few minutes. He saw her go to her pack and slip something into one of the outside pockets and then her cold feet brushed along his legs as she climbed back into bed. He shivered, pulling her close. She curled into him and it was only a few moments more before he felt her body relax as she fell asleep. He finally dozed off, his dreams broken and troubled.
Leonie watched as Anders tenderly tucked Aura's hair behind her ear and bent to whisper something. Aura took his hand and placed it gently on her burgeoning stomach. He laughed and dropped a quick kiss on her lips before taking the reins of his horse and mounting.
Turning in her saddle as they left the security of the Vigil, Leonie saw her Wardens standing on the steps. She raised her hand to them, a brief wave. Nathaniel bent slightly at the waist in acknowledgement of her. A fine bit of irony that the disgraced Arl of Amaranthine's son was now in charge of the arling. She smiled and turned to face the road that stretched before them.
Travis and Loghain rode abreast, leading the small party. Leonie rode between Anders, who was unusually quiet, and Phillipe, who was gregarious and inquisitive about the arling. She answered his questions and found herself relaxing as the miles fell behind them.
Once they left the main road to travel across the fields, talking became impossible. They were pushing their horses hard and hoped to be in the Bannorn by nightfall. It was another beautiful day, warm and sunny. A promise of spring that Anders and Loghain both said would be broken. Travis agreed, saying that snow would begin to fall by the morning.
He was right. The promise of spring was broken by the thick clouds roiling in the morning sky, streaked with peach and violet and angry looking. Snow began to fall an hour later.