Fall was slowly turning to Winter in the Frostback Mountains. Seyna cursed the elevation and weather every time she had to trudge through the snow around the town of Haven. Each time she had to thaw out her frozen rations or bundle her mount to keep him warm, she resented the Inquisition's chosen location a little bit more. Thankfully she was able to use wards and runes to keep herself warm overnight. But it wasn't the same as being truly warmed through. The chill you felt in your bones didn't really subside until you spent an hour or so indoors by a fire, preferably somewhere less snowy than Haven.
Also dampening Seyna's mood was her growing sense of isolation. Even though she had successfully recruited several allies to their cause, she did not feel she could become truly close with these people. What did she have in common with Warden Blackwall, or Enchanter Vivienne? Sera was an elf, but Seyna got the impression that that didn't have any effect at all at how similar they were. Seyna deeply feared that if she pushed too fast to become close with these allies, she would only drive them away.
Even the advisors who had been with her since the beginning were no easier to form close bonds with. Leliana and Josephine had become friendly with Seyna, but they weren't able to drop everything and be her emotional support. Cassandra was too guarded. She was supportive, but always maintained a professional distance. The Commander was… Still uncomfortable in her presence.
Admittedly, it had improved in the last week or two. He wasn't quite so terse or rude to her, and even spared a smile when she cracked terrible jokes at the War Table. The sight of it would twist her insides uncomfortably, and she would feel a tug at the invisible ley line between them. She wanted to go to his side, feel the hum between them. For this reason, she continued to maintain a professional distance. It was too risky.
Thus, she remained alone.
Day by day, she felt herself bear the burden of the anchor, of the decisions ahead of the Inquisition, of the Breach in the sky. There was no one to share this with, not really. She needed to present herself as Josephine had told her: A confident figurehead and someone who could befriend allies. Yet, the more they saw her as more than a person, they less of person she was to them. And all the time, she felt like she didn't belong here at all. Why had this forsaken anchor fallen to her? Why was she of all people tethered to this largely pro-Chantry organization?
Seyna had spent the past several years prior to the conclave as a nomad, traveling away from her clan and furthering her research. She had been publishing scholarly papers under a pseudonym during that time. Some were regarding theories of the ancient elves and Arlathan, but the heart of her work criticized the Exalted March and its aftermath. Slowly, she hoped that her work would gain enough circulation to stand a small chance at shifting some opinions against the Chantry's shameless propaganda and convenient narrative.
During her travels, she had spent time among many different groups of people, but she'd always concealed her magical gift. No one wanted to harbor an apostate, especially when tensions between the Circle and the Order began to rise. It was better if no one knew.
She ought to have packed up and moved on by now, continued her work and research elsewhere. It would be simpler that way. More and more she found it extremely uncomfortable that everyone around her largely knew she was a mage.
Not only that, but everyone tended to recognize her on sight. Not just here around Haven, but other places too. In Val Royeaux, on the Storm Coast, in any Inquisition camp… They would see something about her and know right away who she was. The Herald of Andraste. It was probably the unmistakable combination of stark white hair, bright mismatched eyes, and- of course who could miss the blindingly bright green magic hand?
She didn't have a choice but to stay. And she was tired of not having choices. When would what she wanted matter? When would that get to influence any of her choices? She wanted permission to have wants. It was just another in a long list of things that wore her down, but no one could hear her whine about it, or support her through it. At times like these, she desperately longed for her best friend Thea back with the clan proper. Thea would know what to say, or to say nothing. But… Seyna had been instructed not to share any sensitive information over written communication, it was too risky. So, everything stayed bottled up, and it ate away at her. The isolation was slowly crushing her.
Tonight, though… Leliana and Seyna were skillfully hiding from the rest of the Inquisition. When Seyna had come to the spymaster earlier in the week lamenting her isolation but also her lack of physical solitude, Leliana had promised her a secret hideaway where they could each enjoy a bit of peace and quiet. That is how Seyna came to find herself laying on a thick, lumpy saddle blanket atop a roof in Haven. They were tucked away and out of sight from prying, expectant eyes. It was quite ingenious she had realized; the roof of this Chantry outbuilding faced away from the whole of Haven. The only way to find them would be to climb completely up the ladder and then come over the peak of the roof to where they were.
Here they shared the blanket and the quiet night air, but Seyna could sense that Leliana was holding back her desire to pepper the elf with questions and information. The tension settled between them, and Seyna sighed deeply.
"I have no one to … To talk to. To hear what it is like, for me." Seyna said in a quiet voice, speaking out to the crisp night air and not turning to face Leliana.
"It is the burden of a leader, or a visionary. Your separation is a necessary requirement of your position." Leliana replied, matter-of-factly. There was no sympathy in her tone, it felt to Seyna like the way Leliana usually spoke. Direct, honest, even if it wasn't comfortable.
"But that doesn't mean it feels any better." Seyna said bitterly.
"No, it does not." Leliana conceded, lacing her fingers together over her abdomen. "Do you have any outlets for those feelings?"
"Outlets? No. I… Have been writing, a bit, but it doesn't feel like enough. It never feels like I can put enough on paper to empty out my agony and frustration." Seyna said.
Leliana made a thoughtful sound, her fingers tapping as she pondered this. "Are you looking for a suggested solution? Or do you merely want me to listen and offer support? I'll admit I'm much better at providing the former."
Seyna laughed lightly, with a nod. "Yes, I believe you." She sighed. "I guess… do you have any suggestions? It never feels like I can communicate my turmoil, my triumphs, or follies with anyone else. Right now, with my writing, it feels like shouting into the void and hearing only silence answer me."
Again, Leliana made a thoughtful sound. "If you could share with others, anonymously perhaps, do you think that it might feel less challenging? Maybe make it a bit… lighter to carry with you?"
Seyna considered this. It was hard to imagine what that could look like. The idea was tempting, regardless.
"Are you musical at all?" Leliana probed, tone light. Seyna had learned from her short time knowing Leliana that this tone was deceptively casual. It usually meant she was already three or more steps into hatching a plot
"I… Have been before, yes. Why?" Seyna said, rolling on her side and propping up her head on her hand to look at the red-headed enigma.
"That could be useful." Leliana replied, deceptively casual yet again. "What if you try putting your experiences into words that the others could relate to? Verses?"
"Write songs?" Seyna asked but didn't immediately dismiss the idea. That wasn't an impossible idea. They did have a bard who had traveled to Haven from somewhere in Orlais, she had a pretty enough voice and sang all the traditional tunes. "I don't know if I could sit and hear someone sing for me, it would be too hard."
"Ah, I think I understand… What if you could perform as well?" Leliana asked, turning now to look at Seyna and eying her like a pet project.
"In disguise?" Seyna asked, disbelieving. She felt herself begin to smile, enjoying the outlandish idea. It felt mischievous and wild.
"Precisely. It is not impossible… I could make the necessary arrangements, acquire the supplies. It could be ready by the time you return from the coast." Leliana said, tapping her fingers again as she plotted. "What do you play?"
"Fiddle."