Chapter 24: The Face in the Mirror
Leliana had retired to her room within the warden quarters of Orzammar, but rest would not come.
No, she could not rest.
Shame, anger, and regret warred on her beautiful, yet exhausted, face.
"Oops."
Why had she done that?! That…that was not who she was anymore!
Leliana found herself staring into a mirror, looking into the tortured blue eyes of a stranger.
The former bard turned chantry sister, did not know the girl she saw there. She looked terrible, even though she had eaten and bathed. She still did not recognize the haggard girl that stared back at her with bags under her eyes.
She could still see the man lying there, choking to death on his own blood. The man's bodyguard looked up at her, their weapons nearly drawn.
She had smiled at them, her eyes filled with savage delight.
"Oops," she had said.
It was not the first time she had used that word. The first time had been after she had executed some low-level Marquis in Val Royeaux. Marjolaine had berated her for the body count she had caused.
Twenty guards dead, seven servants missing.
Marjolaine had turned to her then.
"What do you have to say for yourself my pretty thing," she had asked her. "So much needless death?"
Leliana had merely smiled, "Oops," she had said.
Marjolaine had laughed hard at that, she appreciated a good jest.
Though, her old master would not have appreciated what happened outside the gates of Orzammar.
Oh no, Marjolaine would not have been pleased at all.
Oh my dear pretty thing, you let your mask slip, you let your new companions see who you truly are.
Leliana rubbed her cheek; she could almost feel the slap that her old master would have struck her with.
You never let your true self show through my Leliana. NEVER!
The sister winced, it was strange, after almost two and a half years, she still feared Marjolaine's displeasure.
She had been tired; the visions had weakened her control. When that little toad had called her an Orlesian whore, she had ignored him, but then he made a grave mistake…
He kept insulting Alim.
Leliana had been angered, she did not know why, but the arrogant fool would not shut up. He had infuriated her, and so…so…
She had decided to shut him up…
Permanently.
She sighed heavily.
Maker save me, sweet Andraste grant me strength!
She fell to her knees before the bed in prayer. She…she needed to do something!
What had happened out there, that…that girl was dead, that Leliana was dead?
She prayed for the Maker to understand, to take away that part of her who enjoyed that poor soul's death.
She prayed that he would hear her prayer…
That he…would understand.
IOI
Alistair had never been to Orzammar.
He had heard about it of course, the older wardens had spoken of it often, the vast halls, the high mountain ceilings, and the rivers of lava.
They love us there kid, they see us as heroes for our stance against the darkspawn, we're almost nobles there.
And so they did, the respect of the dwarves showed through everywhere here, and then…then there was the city itself.
The others descriptions had not done the city justice; Orzammar was as beautiful as it was dangerous.
Make that very, very, verrry dangerous.
They had no more than entered the commons when they had gotten their first glimpse of how bad things had gotten in the city.
The throne currently had two contenders vying for its control. Prince Bhelen, who was the previous King's youngest son, and Lord Pyral Harrowmont, the king's friend and most trusted advisor.
The two noblemen, along with their entourages, had been having a… discussion in the commons, both men debating the rightful claim of the other. One of the city guards had made the mistake of trying to get between the two; he was apparently a Harrowmont supporter.
One of Bhelen's supporters killed the man, burying his ax in the poor man's belly.
The guards had managed to separate the two groups, but it was clear that given the amount of bad blood in this city, winning the trust of one of them would not be easy.
Alim had suggested they find a place to stay. Tackle the city tomorrow once they had rested and cleared their heads.
They had ended up asking a young noble woman where they might find lodgings for the night.
The dwarf gave them a confused look; she asked them why Grey Wardens would not stay in the Warden Quarters upstairs.
Once Alim had explained that they were not aware of such a place's existence, the woman, Nerav of House Helmi agreed to show them the way.
The quarters surprised Alistair, he had expected something conservatively maintained, like the compound in Denerim. What they were was actually a fully functional estate, along with servants and a staff waiting to tend to the wardens' needs.
After almost four months of sleeping on the ground or in the rain, Alistair welcomed the thought of a warm bed, and hot meals.
Alim granted the others leave for the remainder of the evening, but cautioned everyone to be careful. Given the state of chaos in the city, anyone could be a possible enemy.
Not surprising, after the hard journey here, most of their companions decided to remain, and get some sleep. Only Zevran decided to go out and explore. Alim warned the assassin to mind his manners and not get into too much trouble.
The assassin had merely grinned, and left with an exaggerated bow.
As for Alim himself, he decided to hit up the larder. The thought of actual food after all the dried fair he had eaten lately seemed like it was Maker sent.
Everyone else retired to their rooms.
They would likely have a big day tomorrow.
IOI
Alistair had not been able to sleep, after what had happened outside the gates; he needed to speak with his elven brother.
They needed to talk about her.
As the former Templar entered the foyer, he found Shale glaring at one of the griffon statues that dotted the estate; the golem seemed bothered by them.
"Um…Shale," Alistair said curiously, "What are you doing?"
"I did not realize that the wardens worshipped birds," the golem replied, "All over this place, statues of these bizarre birds…hideous."
Alistair was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Um…these are griffons Shale," he informed their newest companion, "Not birds."
The golem turned to face him.
"Does the other warden not see, the golem asked, "Do these things not have feathered heads, do they not have wings, do they not have the vile little beaks?"
"Weeeell, yes but…"
"They are birds," Shale huffed angrily, "They are lucky they are just stone or I would crush them all, or at least I would banish them outside this place, let them see how it feels to have the rest of the winged vermin perch on them, and…and spread their foul droppings on them…ick!" the golem shuddered, "Can the other warden imagine, such a fate would be far worse than being crushed I think."
"I…um…I suppose so," Alistair shrugged, "I don't think I would like it myself."
"Indeed," Shale agreed, "I'm glad to see that the other warden agrees with me."
The golem returned to its glaring at the griffon statues. Alistair slipped away before it got any serious ideas about removing the statues, or crushing them into dust.
For the life of him he did not understand why Alim had invited the snarky, bird-fearing, golem?
He guessed that it took all kinds, and what was a little more crazy when they were surrounded by it every day?
He managed to track down Alim in one of the libraries; the elf was sitting near one of the fireplaces, reading, Bandit lay curled up asleep at his feet.
To be honest, Alistair had nearly not recognized his fellow warden. Alim had changed out of his hat and coat and had discarded the canary yellow circle robes. He was dressed simply in a white shirt and black trousers. If not for his sword still strapped to his belt, he might have been just another elven servant.
Not that there were elven servants in Orzammar of course, the dwarves had a servant class for that kind of thing.
"Hey Lim," he said jovially, "I was wondering if we could talk?"
The elf startled slightly, he had not heard his warden brother enter.
"Oh…hi Ali," he said putting down the book, "Is there something you need?"
"I have a couple of questions I want to run by you," he answered, "And…" he looked down at what Alim was reading, "The dwarven caste system, it must be a fascinating read?"
"It…it is curious," Alim replied, "These people are not what I expected. I was hoping to gain a better understanding of their politics, but between all the house honor, personal pride, not to mention good old fashion dwarven ambition, I'm surprise this city is still standing after all these centuries."
Alistair nodded, after what they had seen in the commons, he found himself wondering the same thing.
How did a city function like this?
"Any thoughts on how we are going to do this?" he asked the elf, "Gain the dwarves support I mean?"
Alim's ears twitched.
"Gus suggested that we might have to get involved in this election, but I don't like it," Alim frowned, "From what I saw out there today, I'm not sure if either of those men are worthy of taking the throne. Prince Bhelen's man murdered that guard in cold blood. I'm not sure that is the type of man we want."
"So you think we should support this Harrowmont then?"
I did not say that."
"Sooo, we…we are going to support Bhelen? I don't think we should do that Lim, not after…"
"I did not say that either," Alim grumbled, "This place is a mess Ali. I need more information before I can make a decision. Wardens are supposed to be neutral right? I can't just rush into this."
Alistair nodded, that made sense. Alim sighed heavily and rubbed his temples, the whole sorry mess was giving him a headache.
"Is that what you wanted to talk about, who I was going to support as King?"
"No," Alistair confessed, "Actually…I…I was hoping to speak with you about Leliana."
The elf frowned.
"What about Leliana?"
"I've been thinking about what you said back in Lothering," Alistair started pacing, he…he did not like the place his thoughts were going to over this, but he needed to get them off his chest.
"I said a lot of things in Lothering Ali," the elf shrugged, "So…which one do you mean?"
"That we couldn't trust Leliana that she might have been a spy left by Loghain or someone else. After… after watching her kill that man outside, I can't help but wonder if we made a mistake bringing her along."
Alim considered how best to respond, sure they had a lot of questions about Leliana, but she had proven herself to be a very skilled young woman. As far as her working for Loghain however, Alim did not buy that, the sister had had plenty of chances to betray them so far, and she had not taken them. Between the problems with the Dalish and Honnleath, she could have ended their mission at any time, yet she continued to help them. No, Alim did not think the sister was an enemy.
"She told me that she was a travelling minstrel in Orlais," Alistair continued, "since when do minstrels know about combat and poisons?"
"She could have learned combat to protect herself," Alim suggested, "As for the poison, I assumed she got it from Zevran."
"Zevran denied that, he said all the poisons he has on hand are accounted for. I suspect that Leliana either made it, or purchased it back in Lothering, either way, why did she not tell us?"
Again, a valid question, but once again it did not make her an enemy. If Leliana did have knowledge of poisons and toxins, she could have slipped it into their food at any time. They had not been watching her that closely after all. She likely had her reason for keeping secrets.
That did not mean that she was against them.
"She is not our enemy Ali."
"You saw what she did out on the steps," Alistair reminded him, "She killed that man, and all she could say for herself was…oops."
"I wanted to kill the creep, so did you, and so did Gus."
"But Leliana beat us to the punch, Lim…she…she looked like she almost enjoyed killing that man."
"Once again, that does not make her our enemy."
"But she isn't telling us everything," he reminded the elf.
"But that does not mean that she is lying to us either." Alim said.
"Lim."
"No Alistair," Alim growled, "Leliana has not given us any reason to doubt her. She has not harmed any of us, and she certainly hasn't lied to us. Does she have things in her life she would like to keep secret, probably? As long as those secrets don't become a problem I have no problem letting her keep them. A good little chantry boy such as yourself may not know what that is like, but I do, Leliana stays…and that is final."
Alistair did his best to suppress a shudder. Alim thought he had no secrets that was not true.
In fact, his secret was likely the biggest of all.
He wondered if now wasn't the time to come clean, but what could he say?
Speaking of secrets Lim, I just happen to be the bastard son of King Maric, yes thee King Maric. He had an affair with a servant girl and I was the result, but don't worry, I won't let it affect my work.
Alistair sighed; he wasn't ready to tell Alim about that, at least…
Not yet.
Despite the heated nature of their conversation, Alim actually found himself smiling.
"What," Alistair asked him.
"It is funny," the elf answered, "here I stand before a former temple defending a chantry sister. If that is not irony I don't know what is."
Alistair nodded a smile of his own creeping on his face.
It was true that Leliana had given them no reason to doubt her, maybe he was just making a mountain out of a mole hill, but that did not mean that he would stop watching her.
She had killed that man in one of the most painful ways possible, and all she could say for herself was…oops.
He was still having a hard time wrapping his head around it. If Leliana was not simply the former minstrel and chantry sister she claimed to be, then that left one very important question.
Who was she really, and why had she come?
He had a feeling that they would not like the answers.
Provided that anyone in their little party was left alive to hear them.