Leliana
I waited in the quiet of the room. For what, I did not know. The ache in my head had dissipated, leaving me all too coherent for my liking. The tears I had shed were distant memories, though their cause still burned within my heart.
There is such injustice in this world, I twirled the ring on my finger, my eyes lingering over the carefully engraved rampant mabari. Perhaps I asked for too much when I asked to take Salem's name as my own. It brings with it its own conscience and mandates. To right wrongs…to keep my word above all else. A legacy of honor. I am part of it now, and still it is such a foreign concept. Salem, how do I begin? I have never been in command of anything, not even my own life.
The door was flung open and I lifted my head, frowning as I gazed into the fiery cinnamon eyes of Cassandra Pentaghast.
"Get up." her words booked no argument. "The Divine wants to see you."
I inhaled deeply, calming the beating of my heart. Cassandra had not treated me well, yet neither had she been overtly cruel, considering the circumstances and the information she had of me. In spite of that knowledge, I could not bring myself to attempt to mend bridges. I did not trust the woman, the haughty tilt of her chin, the imperious note in her voice that she assumed was command.
She reminded me all too much of Morrigan, but while the witch had not lost her entire humanity, I could not feel the same about Cassandra. Her title had absorbed her, and she would sooner slit her own throat with a dull splinter than forsake the teachings of the Chantry.
And the Heretic has come, I smiled, rising to my feet, feeling a new, untouched power crackling across my skin, proclaiming a new god.
The High Seeker placed her hand on my arm and I immediately removed it from her grasp. "Do not touch me." I hissed and my voice rang cold.
Cassandra flinched as though she had been struck, but she had the grace to remove her hand…though she placed it on the hilt of her sword in a needless display of power. "Do not make an enemy of me, Leliana." she cautioned, but her body language indicated that she would prefer I disregard the advice.
Not a day ago, I would have heeded her warning, I realized. But now…now everything has changed. I can feel it in my blood, my heart, my soul. The Maker has chosen a new prophet, Cassandra. And the battle shall be different…
"You do not deign to answer?" Cassandra asked, disgust and enmity in her voice.
"Refusal to answer often answers well." I smiled at her, sweetly, enjoying the bewilderment that quickly turned to malice.
She increased her pace and nearly shoved me through the double doors that led to the Divine's hall of Justice.
Justice devoid of mercy. Piety without pity. Knowledge sans wisdom. Life deprived of love.
A new woman walked down the long, intimidating, marble hallway. A woman who had been called, who had touched and spoken with the Maker. Who knew secrets that would be blasphemous. I had been called, and I would rise to the occasion as Salem had risen to her own calling.
I have been given a new name and new face and new destiny. I will not falter. I will not let fear dissuade me. I have been given everything I need. I will trust the Maker, I will trust my calling, and I will put my faith in the heart that Salem Cousland opened. It was her love of me that let her pass through to Andraste's ashes. It will be my love of her that inspires a new age of the Maker's grace. Let it begin.
I bowed before Justinia V, the woman who persisted in perpetuating a failed legacy and a false gospel. I did not make the gesture from respect or out of fear, but simply because this was the new role I had been given, and I was nothing if not a consummate actress.
"You wished to see me?" I asked, the same saccharine smile on my face as I had given Cassandra.
"Indeed." Justinia spoke, rising from her chair and descending the stairs. "The mage found nothing in your mind that gave credence to my beliefs. I must admit that I am shocked."
And displeased, I inferred from her tone.
"I see." I kept my tone neutral. "You could have saved yourself some effort had you simply believed my words."
Justinia frowned and glowered at me, but her eyes had lost their intimidation. They gleamed with a hollow, dogmatic light that others might take for divine spark, but I knew better. I knew true zeal, true brilliance, true divinity. It lay in the broken, silver-blue gaze of a Grey Warden.
"I am a woman devoted to the truth." Justinia claimed. "I cannot take words at face value, for I have seen the depth of the human heart, and the darkness to which it can reach."
I knew she spoke of the one who had betrayed her and kept silence, knowing that her judgment of me would come. I was too dangerous to simply be let loose, but I had committed no crime, and could not be killed for it. There would have to be another way…and it would be as planned, as engineered by the Maker.
And it will take me away from Salem. It will set us upon different paths…and they may never cross again…and if I die, it will be neither age nor injury that kills me…but a broken heart.
"I have enough evidence to convict you of heresy." Justinia bluffed, but I would not call it out. "But, as I said, I seek truths, unbiased and unblemished. By whatever means, you foresaw the future, and I cannot let such a potential threat walk free. If you were to receive a vision again, amongst us, then the outcome could be effected to a…more suitable end…than we have previously been shown."
My hands curled into trembling fists as I realized the meaning of her last statement. Salem's life. The life that this woman considers an abomination. The light of my heart and song of my soul, the woman whose love captured the heart of god is decried by this fool who persists in ignorance.
"What would you have me do?" I asked, pretending honor, pretending humility, pretending acceptance.
Her eyes flashed to mine and latched onto me like a predator about the neck of their prey. "Foreswear all vows you have made and join the order of the Seekers." she said. "In this, you will absolve any further doubts about the source of your visions, and you will be doing the work of the Maker."
"No." I shook my head, refusing her offer.
Cassandra's slack-jawed expression would have given me cause to laugh, but Justinia had asked me to do something that I would never countenance.
The Divine struggled with her temper, but her voice came out as smooth as silk. "Might I inquire as to why you would forego this most illustrious of honors?"
"You would ask me to foreswear all vows." I took a step forward, committing sacrilege, approaching the Maker's earthly representative without permission. I could not bring myself to care. "That would include my marriage vow, and that, your Holiness, is the one thing I will not, under any circumstances, recant."
She did not even have the grace to feel shame. Instead, poisoned words slithered from her lips. "But surely, child, you would find yourself happier, more content. You would have a family among us, a calling."
My thoughts drifted to the quiet, mirthful nights before the fires at Cousland Hall. My head in Salem's lap, her hands stroking through my hair. My utter contentment as I listened to the banter between Salem and Fergus. There is nowhere I would rather be.
"I have a family." my words were ice. "I have a calling. And while I would be honored to join the Seekers of the Chantry; eager even, I will not forsake the vows I have already taken."
The lines of Justinia's face creased and hardened, losing all gentility. "I could render those paltry marriage vows as null and void with a word and quick signature." she threatened me.
"I made those vows to the Maker." I seethed, walking until I stood toe to toe with Justinia, breaking every law and precedent. "Only when you are god can you break them."
Cassandra's fingers dug into my shoulder and she wrenched me backwards, placing herself between me and the Divine. A bitter laugh echoed through my mind, though I did not give voice to it.
"Please, your Holiness," the Nevarran accent rang thick with wrath. "Allow me to punish her for her ignorance."
"No." Justinia raised her hand as Cassandra strode to where I lay on the stairs. "No. There is no need to break her spirit. I will let her cling to the illusion of love and happiness, but she shall pay penance in the service of the Seekers. As of now, Cassandra, she is in your charge and under your command. Make a soldier out of her; she will see the Maker's truth, and forsake all else."
The Divine smiled in perceived triumph and I let Cassandra drag me to my feet with an ungentle hand. I returned the smile, satisfied as confusion swirled in Justinia's eyes.
"Welcome to hell." Cassandra growled, with an undertone of glee to her words. At last, she could remove the chafing mask of civility and treat me as she wished.
I wanted to laugh.
Hell, Cassandra? I mocked her in my thoughts. You know nothing of hell. Hell is stitching your lover's skin together. Hell is watching the woman you love collapse in tears and knowing you are their cause. Hell is sitting in a city that shouts victory while your heart falters at every rasping breath from a savior's broken body.
You may think you have triumphed by playing the predator, but you have no idea of the gravity of the situation. Your devout belief in your own judgment has blinded you to what you seek above all. The Truth. And the truth is this. Andraste failed, and the world has suffered for it. I have said this war will be different, but that is because the first was fought by a warrior, a straight forward approach of enslaved against tyrant, good against evil.
But I have been chosen, and I am no warrior. I have crippled kingdoms with a sonnet and song; I have killed princes with a well-timed jest. I will become one of you…and I will break the foundation of the House of Deceit. For, as every bard is instructed from the beginning, you must be inside the beast…to kill it.