Chapter 46: Sinners

Alim pushed the group hard as they made their way towards Lake Calenhad. The weather had been kind to them so far, but he had no desire to be stuck near the mountains if a snowstorm hit. The northern bannorn was facing one of the weakest winters on record, snowfall was miniscule, and a harsh wind blew across the land.

Ferelden continued to suffer under the Blight.

Alim could feel it in the wind and in the ground beneath their feet. All of nature suffered from the darkspawns' presence on the surface. The closer they moved towards the where the horde was the worse it became.

Alim finally called them to a halt for the day. Everyone looked grateful for the chance to rest. He suspected they would reach the tower by tomorrow evening, provided they got moving before sunrise.

The group settled in for the eve, tents went up and a fire was built. Alim agreed to take the first evening watch.

He had been pushing them hard mostly because he did not want to rest, every time he closed his eyes now the Archdemon was waiting. The dreams had gotten worse since leaving Orzammar.

Did the creature know that he had seen it, or was it simply the fact that this was a Blight and he a Grey Warden?

He could not say.

IOI

The group ate dinner in silence, everyone watchful; night was a perfect time for darkspawn raids.

Alistair was not overly concerned, he or Lim would sense if any of the monsters were about long before they got close enough to attack.

The former Templars eyes were drawn to Morrigan's distant tent. He had offered her a place with him, but the witch had refused.

"I still enjoy my freedom Alistair," she had purred, "If you desire to…see me, feel free to come to my tent."

He wanted to see her…now.

Leliana gave him a disapproving look as he left the main camp. He knew that she did not approve of the two of them. Of course, it was not like they were married after all.

Morrigan was unattached and so was he. Why should they not seek…comfort where they could find it?

He had been suspicious at first of course, but…he had grown to like being close to the witch.

He had grown to like it very much.

He did not see her as he approached; the small fire she had built had burnt down to almost nothing. He called her name and received no answer. A small black wolf emerged from the wilderness behind him; it lowered the hare it had caught.

A flash of light startled the former Templar. He jumped and nearly tripped over witch's pack.

He spun drawing his weapon.

Morrigan was there, smirking at him.

"Tis a foolish thing entering my camp without permission," she said playfully. "Did I startle you?"

He snorted, stupid shape shifting magic.

"Must you really do that?" he glared.

"I desired food and I caught it," she shrugged picking up the rabbit, "I enjoy an evening hunt every now and again. The food tastes better when I have caught it myself, and tis much more filling than the stew that that chantry twit is preparing."

Alistair sighed, lowering his weapon. He was torn between being happy that the witch was safe and annoyed at her comments about Leliana.

Morrigan truly was one of the most confusing women he had ever met. How could one woman be so wonderful and terrible at the same time?

She pulled out a knife from her robe and began tending to the animal, skinning it and removing the head and feet. A few minutes later she rested the meat on a spit over the hot coals.

Alistair's stomach growled from the smell of cooking meat.

The witch's smile widened.

"You may join me if you desire," she offered, "I will not be able to finish this myself, and tis nice to know that this meat will not go to waste."

He chuckled; he had learned to recognize what he liked to call 'Morrigan speak.'

This was her way to invite him to dine, without inviting him to dine.

How could he refuse?

The cold winter wind blew across the camp; Morrigan wrapped her fur cloak tighter around herself. It was not just the cold that bothered her.

She could also sense the corruption in the air, just as he and Alim could.

The darkspawn had gained much ground while they had spent their time in Orzammar.

They had heard rumors of Lothering's fall. The darkspawn had destroyed the village utterly, now it and the northern part of the Korcari Wilds was now mostly a barren desert.

He wondered if she was worried about her mother. Flemeth may not have been a doting parent, but any child would be concerned?

Wouldn't she?

The two said nothing for a time. Alistair watched the witch carefully. The gentle way she moved, the way she licked at the grease on her fingers. Her amber gaze found his, eyes that promised both challenge and invitation.

He felt his body stir under her regard.

She shivered glancing up at the nighttime sky; the clouds were finally starting to clear.

It would be a long frigid night.

She gave him her most demure look.

"Tis cold in my tent all alone," she said innocently.

He grinned.

"Would you….would you like some company?"

"You would come with me then?" she smiled, "Oh whatever would we do my dark secluded tent all by ourselves?"

Alistair rose, she stood defiantly before him.

He brushed her cheek with his fingers, making her shiver.

"I think I can come up with something," he promised.

She hungrily pulled his mouth down on top of hers.

All conscious thought vanished. Her fingers worked quickly removing his breast plate, even while he began to pull down her robes. He took her in his arms, as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

The two vanished into her tent.

Both were eager to find a warmth all their own.

IOI

Alim leaned against an old pine tree, watching the moon crescent moon rise in the distance.

The night was quiet, only the occasional hoot of an owl.

The elf pulled his fur cloak tighter around himself. Purchased from a dwarven trader, it was larger than what he needed. He looked ridiculous, almost liked like a child wearing the sodding thing, but it was warm. He would put up with looking a little silly if it meant he would be comfortable.

Bandit was off hunting, the scraps Alim had shared with him had not pleased the Mabari. So now the elf sat alone waiting for Alistair.

They had first watch tonight.

"Hello."

Alim turned to see Leliana approaching.

His ears twitched.

"Where is Alistair?" he asked.

"He asked if I would trade my shift for his," she explained, "I think he wished to spend some…quality time with Morrigan."

The elf chuckled.

"There is something I never thought I would hear," he said.

"Leliana giggled and joined him sitting against the tree. She shivered as she tried to get comfortable, her own winter cloak a little lighter than the one he had bought.

The elf frowned.

Alim thought about offering to share his cloak with her, but… the thought of them being so close, snuggling for warmth.

It made his heartbeat a little faster, and brought a slight blush to his cheeks.

Leliana either did not notice or simply chose not to say.

Alim was grateful for that.

IOI

She looked across the landscape, the place they had chosen for their camp was good high ground, from here they could see an enemy approaching from miles away, and the rock formations shielded their fire from prying eyes.

The bard's eyes drifted to the heavens, many a night she had spent stargazing when she was little.

A smile came to her lips.

"The stars are out," she murmured.

Alim nodded.

"Finally a dry clear night," he responded.

"It is nice to know that something in this world will remain untouched by the Blight," she said, "The world may suffer, but the stars will continue to burn. Do you know about that cluster of stars up there?"

Alim shook his head.

"Perhaps you have heard the tale then about the Lady and her Soldier?"

Again the elf shook his head.

Leliana smiled, long had it been since she had shared this particular tale with anyone. It had always been one of her favorites.

IOI

Alim said nothing as Leliana began her story. The bard seemed more at peace then he had ever seen her. After almost two months of almost constant danger in the deep roads, it was nice that she was able to relax.

The simple act of storytelling seemed to bring out the best in her.

She spun a tale for him, the story of the Lady Alindra, who had fallen in love with a handsome soldier, and how their love had been cut short by the girl's noble father. The soldier had been sent to the wars and slain. Heartbroken, Alindra had prayed to the gods to take her away from the pain of the mortal world, and that the gods, so moved by her prayers took her into the sky and made a star of her. Then they raised her soldier and put him across from her in the sky, promising the two that they would be reunited again one day.

Alim's ears twitched. His Mother had loved stories like that. Bittersweet romances she had called them. Alim had never understood such tales himself. How was it romantic when both lovers had died? How could that be a happy ending?

Leliana had a way with words; she still managed to instill a sense of hope, despite the grim results of the story.

"Do you think that such a thing is possible Alim?"

He startled, had…had he missed something? He…he had been so caught up with thoughts about his mother that he had stopped paying attention.

"Pardon?" he said.

"Do you think such love is possible," she said, "A love that could burn eternal, despite loss, pain, and even death itself?"

The elf sighed. He did not want her to see him as some insensitive boar, but at the same time he was worried about being perfectly honest as well.

What to do?

Shit!

Well…here goes nothing.

"My Mother use to say that love was the strongest power in the universe," he said thoughtfully, "that it could eclipse even magic. That if a person gave up on love, then what was the point of living," his ears twitched at that last part. He had never told anyone else that before, never let anyone else here that.

Why did he let her hear it now?

Her lip curled in amusement.

"I'm surprised to hear you say such a thing," she replied, "I never took you for the type."

He removed his hat and smiled sheepishly at her.

"Don't tell anyone," he said conspiratorially, "But I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic. My parents…they…they adored each other. I hoped…I wished that one day I could find someone who looked at me the way my Mother looked at my Father."

Leliana's eyes turned warm, the look on her face made his cheeks and ears darken.

He should never have said that.

"Your secret is safe with me Alim," she said.

He smiled gratefully. She always seemed to surprise him. Almost like she knew exactly what he needed to hear.

He liked that.

They fell silent again for a time. Finally, he spoke.

She had asked him a question back in Orzammar, he owed her an explanation.

He frowned.

"The Templars were going to execute me," he said flatly.

Her eyes widened.

"What?"

He shifted nervously.

"I…I helped a friend escape the tower," he confessed, "We…we destroyed his phylactery. Jowan…they…the Templars were going to make him tranquil. He…he was like a brother to me. I could not allow it."

The bard's brow furrowed.

"Tranquil? What is tranquil?"

"A fate worse than death," he answered, "They take your emotions and magic away. You might as well be statue that can walk and talk. I…I couldn't let them do that to Jowan."

"Why would they do such a thing?" she gasped.

"They thought him a blood mage," he hissed, "They were right."

Leliana eyes widened, her hand went to her mouth.

Alim did not blame her.

The chantry's stance on blood magic was quite clear.

To aid one…that was a damnable trespass.

"He lied to me," Alim said grimly, "He lied to his lover. The Templars caught us, they were all set to execute him when he…when he used the power of his blood. We helped him and he repaid us by blasting the Templars with blood magic when he fled. Then…he fled…he left us to face punishment alone."

He looked at Leliana; he could see the shock on her face. As a servant of the chantry she understood the extent of his crime.

The sad thing was…he would do it again.

His ears lowered in anger, not at her, or Jowan, but at himself.

He had been sodding blind.

"That is why I did not want to return to the tower. If Commander Duncan had not been in the tower I would have died or been made tranquil. I threw away my life to save my friend."

He gave her a sad look.

"That is who I was Leliana," he sighed, "I would understand if you did not want to talk to me after this, but I ask you to understand why. Jowan was my best friend. I couldn't…I couldn't let them do that to him, no matter what he did. Do you understand?"

He waited then, hoping for her to respond.

He hoped that she would understand.

IOI

Leliana considered what he said, what Alim had done.

She had no moral high ground here, if he knew some of the things she had done.

If it had been Tug or Sketch facing such a fate…

Would she have done anything less?

The old her would have done nothing, but since the chantry…

Yes she understood why he had done what he had done.

"You were trying to save your friend," she replied, "There is no shame in that."

"It was a mistake," he snorted, "One I would gladly repeat, what does that say about me?"

"That you have a heart," she responded.

He snorted shaking his head in frustration.

"We all have our sins Alim," she murmured.

His ears twitched.

"What is it?" she asked.

IOI

Alim took a deep breath.

Maker, this was not going to be easy.

He looked up at the stars, thinking of the woman who was sitting next to him, the contradictions he had seen in her.

He had been honest with her…

Would she be the same?

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded.

"I…I have heard that in Orlais…minstrels are spies."

She stiffened. He waited for her to storm off.

She did not.

"Where did you hear this?" she asked.

"Is it true?"

She fidgeted.

"Not all minstrels are spies," she began," Most are just singers and storytellers, but some…some are what we call bards."

"I thought bards were minstrels," his ears twitched.

She rubbed the back of her head nervously. She…she did not want to do this, he could see that.

Yet, she did not stop.

"Most use the term minstrel and bard interchangeably, but in Orlais such things would cause confusion. Bards are minstrels…and more. Spies as you say. They serve wealthy patrons who pay for their services."

"What kind of services?"

"Theft, seduction, assassination, it depends on the bard," she shrugged, "In Orlais there is much rivalry among the highborn. They pretend civility, but in secret they plot and scheme to destroy each other. The smiles of the nobility hide many daggers. That is what it means to be a bard in Orlais. That is the essence of the great game."

His ears twitched madly, the next question was one he did not want to ask, but he wanted to know, he needed to know.

"You know a lot about these bards."

She smiled sadly.

"I should shouldn't I? I spent most of my adult life as one; you have guessed as much I'm sure. That is the past, who I was should not influence who I am now, no? Do I not deserve a second chance?"

Alim did not know how to respond, she had not judged him after he had told her about Jowan. He owed her the same courtesy.

She had confessed, but to what? She said she had been a bard. Had she been sent to spy on them?

He still did not think so.

"Were you in Lothering on a mission?" he asked.

She shook her head no.

"I…I found myself in Ferelden," she responded, "I sought shelter from bad weather in the chantry, and when the storm passed…I…I simply did not want to leave. I…I like to think the Maker brought me here."

The silence between them was pregnant. He wanted her to say something, anything.

Her blue eyes were so distance, she looked so sad. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her.

Would she accept the help of someone who had aided a blood mage?

Did he want to risk letting a spy get that close?

Where did they go from here?

She sighed, her eyes never leaving the cold Ferelden countryside.

"What do we do now?" she asked him.

"I…I don't know Leliana," he replied. Where did they go now that their sins were laid bare?

He just did not know.