Thank you all for reading! Particular thanks to suilven for her speedy and thorough betaing!
The girl knelt in front of the bank of candles, swaying a little to the rhythm of the Chant. Leliana smiled; she had done the same thing, the sound of the music, the soft voices becoming part of her mind, the background to her thoughts, smoothing out the tangle of fears and longings and shameful memories.
She watched for a moment, wondering what a girl so young had to pray so hard about.
Then the girl got to her feet, turning, and Leliana saw that for all the youth in her slim body, her face looked older, more careworn, although still fresh and lovely.
"Oh! I'm sorry, were you waiting to pray?"
"No. I tend to pray wherever I am, and hope that the Maker can hear me."
"Does he ever answer?"
"Not in words, no, but very often in opportunities."
A shadow crossed the girl's face. "I can't remember the last time I had an opportunity."
"You had one now," Leliana pointed out. "You could have walked past without speaking, but instead you spoke, and possibly …" She hesitated. She had meant to keep to herself, but she sensed that the girl before her needed someone to talk to, someone to trust and confide in. She finished, "found a friend?"
A smile lifted the corners of the girl's mouth. "I suppose I had never considered such a moment as an opportunity; I've been waiting for something big."
"You never know what size a moment will be until you look back on it."
"That's a good point. In that case, I am Bethany Hawke."
"Sister Leliana, newly arrived at the Chantry here."
"Nice to meet you."
Leliana watched them ride in, the King's retinue and the Inquisition people together. The King's men were stiff and formal, constantly aware of their sovereign's safety. Alistair was loved by most, but hated still by a few who remembered the death of Loghain Mac Tir or resented the exile of Anora or wanted something new and to have done with the Theirin line altogether. The men were wise to watch. And especially here in Skyhold—Leliana could think of a few people here who wouldn't mind besmearing the Inquisition in the process of taking down the Fereldan monarch.
Of course, it was her job to make certain that didn't happen, with extreme measures if necessary. And make certain she would.
She didn't miss Alistair himself hanging back, to the discomfort of his people, trying not to get ahead of Hawke. And Hawke's attention torn between Alistair and the rider at her side. Leliana squinted to see, her heart speeding up just a little. Yes, that was Bethany, but thinner than she remembered. Also more confident—she rode almost with anger. Well, the Grey Wardens could do that to a person, no question about that.
They would meet again later, in the War Room, when Bethany told them what she knew about the disappearance of the Wardens. For a heartbeat, Leliana regretted the loss of the breathless, fresh young girl she had met in Lothering, Bethany's sweet innocence, the wonder in her eyes when they had shared their first kiss. Would she remember? It was so long ago, and so much had happened in the meantime.
Drawing back into the Rookery, Leliana knelt before Andraste, praying for strength, for serenity, for the detachment necessary to fulfill her role.
She was later to the meeting than was her usual habit on purpose; she wanted to arrive amidst the group and mask whatever reaction she might have to seeing Bethany again amidst the greetings and introductions all around. Foolish to feel so, she told herself. There had been, what, a few kisses, a few brief moments exchanged between them, the slow movements of two bodies coming to rest against each other … and then, afterward, there had been Leyden. Sweet, wild Leyden, who had made love with such fierceness and fervor. Cousins they might be, but there were no two women more different from one another than Bethany Hawke and Leyden Amell.
Despite that, despite the brevity of their former acquaintance, Leliana couldn't help but feel—something. And something was more than she had felt in a very long time. Since before her beloved Divine had died. She had thought that part of her dead, lost somewhere in the darkness inside her, but now a shaft of light was piercing that darkness.
Hawke and Bethany were just ahead of her, Hawke's arm around her sister's waist. Leliana slowed her steps to avoid catching up with them. Walking softly was habit, but now she put her feet down with extra care.
As the War Room door closed behind them, she paused, readying herself. Behind her she heard a throat being cleared, and she turned, looking down into Thule Cadash's blue eyes.
"I've never seen you so hesitant before," he noted. "Anything you want to tell me?"
His usual genial smile was there, but his eyes were shrewd, studying her face. Most of the time, Leliana blessed the Maker for sending them an Inquisitor with such an incisive mind, such a blend of charm and guile and wit, but right now she would have preferred a clod who couldn't see his nose before his face.
"Just … feeling a bit under the weather," she said, knowing instantly that he hadn't believed her.
"Would you like me to make excuses for you?"
She held back the "No!" that rose to her lips, forcing a more casual, "Not at all, but thank you for offering."
Thule's grin widened. "I see. In that case, shall we?" He gestured at the door.
"By all means."
"Ah, there you are," Cullen said, breathing a sigh of relief as Thule and Leliana entered the room. "Now we can begin."
"Our apologies for holding up the show." Thule looked at Bethany, and Leliana blessed him for taking the lead so that she could cover her shock at what she saw now that they were so close to one another. He introduced himself while Leliana covertly studied Bethany's face. It was lined and drawn, gaunt, the eyes hollow and shadowed. Bethany had been through much since they had last seen one another, but it had marked her far more harshly than Leliana would have imagined. She mourned the lost innocence of the girl she had known, nowhere to be found in the hard eyes of the woman facing her.
"Sister Leliana," Bethany said, stressing the 'Sister' with a curl of her lip that might have been sarcasm and might have been disdain.
"It is just Leliana now. I have not been a sister in some time."
"So I hear. I, however, am not longer 'just' anything. Warden Bethany, at your service." She bowed.
Leliana inclined her head, refusing to be baited into whatever reaction Bethany was looking for. "I understand you have information about the missing Wardens of Ferelden and Orlais?"
"I do." Bethany looked around the room. "They're gone," she said bluntly. "All of them. Consider them dead."
It was substantively what they had all expected, but distressing nonetheless. Cullen closed his eyes and breathed a prayer to the Maker; Josephine's eyes welled with tears. Dear Josie. She belonged in a counting house, safe and secure, not here courting the Maker only knew what dangers.
"But there's a chance," Hawke insisted. "You said there was a chance, Bethany."
Having made her point with the harsh statement, Bethany stepped back a bit. "A possibility, yes. There's some type of ritual that Commander Clarel wanted to attempt, a way to—to fight back against Corypheus. There's a ruined temple in the Western Approach that was thought to be the best location. I can sketch a map to it, if you like."
"Aren't you going?" Cullen asked.
"Are you crazy?" Bethany demanded. "I barely escaped with my life, and you want me to go back amongst them? My own people, my brothers and sisters in the Grey, tried to kill me when I wouldn't go along with them. I can hardly just waltz in now with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart."
Hawke shifted to stand protectively closer to her sister, a move Bethany ignored.
"I'll go," Alistair said.
He may have missed the swift, apprehensive look Hawke sent him, but Leliana didn't. She wasn't sure how she felt about Alistair having transferred his affections from Leyden to Leyden's cousin, but she also wasn't sure she was in any position to criticize.
"Your Majesty, that's appreciated, but I'm sure you have other, more pressing—"
Alistair cut Thule's words off with an upraised hand. "There is nothing more pressing for a Warden and a King than a crazed, powerful darkspawn lurking at the border. I can keep up with anything else via dispatches; in the meantime, you can consider me a Fereldan representative in the Inquisition. Or a Warden representative."
"We already have a Warden," Cullen objected. "Blackwall."
Leliana saw both Bethany and Alistair hesitate slightly at that, a breath of a pause before Alistair said, "Of course you do. But one extra can't hurt." He and Cullen looked at one another, something that might have been a challenge passing between them. Leliana found it amusing that they still clearly considered each other competition, and that neither of them seemed to feel the same about her. Or, possibly, she found it sad. It depended on the moment.
"Well, that settles it, then," Thule said. "Alistair will accompany me and my companions to the Western Approach, where we will crash a Grey Warden ritual and get ourselves in trouble. Sounds like a Tuesday." He grinned, and almost everyone smiled back. Bethany, however, did not. "We'll leave day after tomorrow. That's a fairly short resting period for you, Alistair, any problems with that?"
Alistair chuckled. "During the Blight, two days off walking was unheard of. I think I can handle it."
"Good. Anything else?" Thule looked around the room.
"I will look into this ritual, Inquisitor, and see if I can find anything that might be of help. Grey Wardens hold their secrets rather close to their chests, however." Cullen looked at Alistair.
"I don't know much more than you do, I'm afraid. Bethany might, however."
Bethany and Cullen glanced at one another and then away. He wore his Templar past on his sleeve, and her magic was there in more than just the staff she carried.
Leliana spoke before she thought. "I can talk with Warden Bethany, see if I can help her remember any details."
"Thank you," Cullen said in gratitude, neatly covering Bethany's lack of response.
"Excellent. Then I guess we're done here. Meeting adjourned." Thule nodded at them all, and everyone began filing out of the room.
"Let's get you something to eat, Bethany," Hawke began solicitously.
"I'm not hungry, sister. And I'm not thirsty, and I'm not tired, and I don't need to be looked after, all right?" Bethany glared at her sister.
Hawke looked hurt, and Bethany sighed.
"I'm sorry. It's been a long few months, and I'm used to being on my own. Maybe … a little space?"
"Of course. I'll be here if you need anything." Hawke left, not without several backward glances of concern.
Leliana and Bethany walked out together. To break the ice, and because she was genuinely curious, Leliana asked, "You and Alistair had an … odd reaction to the mention of our resident Warden. Would you mind explaining?"
Bethany snorted. "He's no Warden."
"Really." Leliana had suspected something was off about Blackwall, but she hadn't thought the deception went that far. "You're certain?"
"I can tell." Bethany softened a bit. "I don't know that I would think he's a danger, but … he's definitely not a Warden."
"I will look into it, perhaps I can discover what he's hiding." They walked a few steps, and then Leliana said, "This is a long way from Lothering."
"Not that far—as the crow flies." Bethany smiled briefly.
"No, I suppose not. But many crows have flown in the years since last we met."
"Too many."
"I would hate to think so."
"Don't." Bethany's voice was low but firm. "Don't try to open that door. You aren't ready for what lies behind it."
Leliana met Bethany's amber gaze with firmness of her own, darkness of her own. "Do you think you are the only one who has suffered and lost and grown weary and embittered in the passage of these years? I may understand the depths of you better now than I would have then—and you certainly have a better chance of understanding mine. Do not presume that your own pain is the only one in the world."
She could see Bethany struggling to accept the truth of her words, and quickly she turned away. "We can meet later to discuss the ritual. I have work I must be getting back to."
Varric looked up from the page. He'd been jotting down notes for a new story, but his heart wasn't really in it. Too much of his mind was taken up with wondering whether Bianca would be waiting around the next corner, or if she would be the next one through the door of the main hall.
Wasn't this just like her, though? Having that rock dropped in front of his door and then not showing up? She was sitting somewhere laughing at the idea of him bouncing out of his chair every time he saw a dwarven figure. He could have sworn Dagna kept creeping around and showing up in unexpected places on purpose.
She was sitting with Curly now, chattering at him as he ate his soup. Curly's face was drawn with pain; he wasn't hearing a word, that much was clear. But he didn't seem to mind her being there.
Sunshine came into the room, looking around her at the long tables filled with people. A smile came to Varric's face at the sight of her, rising of its own volition. She caught his eye and something like relief came over her as she approached his table.
"Varric. One of the few people I'm glad to see here. Honestly, is all of Kirkwall here? And Ferelden, too."
"Too many for you?"
"A few. You mind if I sit?"
"Please. My table is your table."
"This seemed to spring up out of nowhere," she said, crossing her arms on the table. Her eyelids drooped just a bit, the weariness in her evident in every line of her body.
"You mean Skyhold, the Inquisition, Corypheus …"
"All of it. One day you're a girl in Lothering, running in the fields, praying in the Chantry …" Her voice trailed off, her eyes on the dancing flames in the fire behind Varric. "Falling in love. Then you're far from everything you knew in a dirty city that hates you, scrabbling for every copper you can get … then in the Deep Roads, dying of taint."
"Lots of changes," Varric said sympathetically. He wanted to bring that dreamy look back into her eyes, rather than the bleak, haunted one that had replaced it. "Tell me about the love."
At that, she chuckled. "You would grab onto that."
"You ought to."
"Look who's talking." She leaned across the table. "Tell me about Bianca."
"Sunshine, you know that's the one story I can never tell."
"But I don't know why."
Varric grinned at her. "That's the beauty of it."
"Fine, then—at least tell me this. Is she a real person? Is there a real Bianca out there somewhere who once touched your heart?"
Varric thought of Bianca, fiercely beautiful and gloriously demanding and maddeningly impossible to hold.
It must have shown in his face, because Bethany crowed with delight, sounding more like the Sunshine he had once known than she'd had since she arrived. "There is!"
He nodded, slowly.
"Do you think you'll see her again?"
"You said one question."
"Actually, I didn't specify." She smiled.
"In that case … she always turns up, when I least expect her."
"So I might be able to meet her someday?"
Varric shrugged.
Bethany stood up, looking more energized than when she had sat down. "That's something to live for, at least."