Chapter 20

Leliana looked away from Jowan's dozing figure when she heard Aedan's voice. She blinked at the man. "Quoi?"

Aedan, who was already fluent in Orlesian, tapped the letter he held in his hand. "This. You say it's from a spy?"

"He told me himself." She gave him a half shrug when he raised an eyebrow. "After some gentle persuasion."

Without further probing, Aedan folded the letter and pocketed it. "Good job, Leli. The more ammunition we have against Howe and Loghain, the better."

Nodding, Leliana pointed her chin a Jowan. "I think that was a good decision, sending him into the Fade and not the others."

The entourage from the Circle had arrived early that morning and consisted of half a dozen mages, including the First-Enchanter himself. They'd gone to work instantly at Irving's command.

Aedan sighed. "He wanted to make things right. This is his chance. He gets the demon out of the boy and voila, he has some goodwill with the Arl. That's strong leverage. Might help him. If not, there are other options. Solona refuses to let him hang." He scratched the stubble on his chin. "Between you and me, it was a choice between him, Irving and Solona. I'm not sending Wynne into the Fade for a brawl with a demon, and Morrigan would've just refused."

"Why?"

"Hates the Arlessa's guts, that's why."

Leliana hummed. She herself wasn't too fond of the Orlesian woman. She'd known of her from Alistair's stories, but the actual article was much, much worse. The only bit of sympathy she had for her was over her concern for her son.

"He's been in the Fade awfully long," Aedan commented off-handedly and waved Solona over from Irving's side. "Any idea how long it'll take?"

The girl shook her head. "There's no way of telling. It's like the Harrowing almost... something Jowan never experienced," she said reluctantly. "But I have every confidence that he'll pull it off."

"He'd better," Leliana muttered quietly. "For Alistair's sake."

She hadn't seen in three and a half days. Three and a half days without food and water. He'd told everybody to not go near the room, but that hadn't stopped her. Between her visits to the town square and helping with rebuilding, she would go up to the second floor and stand outside the door. No sounds ever came from within, however.

I just hope he... they're both okay.

Magic was something far beyond Leliana's realm of understanding. Infiltration, espionage, assassination, smuggling, pickpocketing, music and archery she was well versed in, but the subtle art of magecraft eluded her completely. As such, she had no idea what it was that Alistair had subjected himself to enduring and what effect it would have upon him. Of course, he'd only decided to do it because he had confidence in his skills...

But still...

A faint murmur among the Circle mages caught her attention and she turned towards them, along with Solona and Aedan.

"What ha-" the man began.

He needn't have. Arlessa Isolde's screech informed everybody in the main hall of Jowan's regained consciousness.

"Could you do it?! Is my boy safe?" she shouted in her heavy Orlesian accent. "Is the demon gone?"

Jowan didn't speak. He looked groggy, but he had managed to sit up. Leliana saw him nod once, and that was all she needed to start moving.

The bard flew up the staircase leading to Connor's chamber, tackling three steps at a time, Aedan right behind her. When they reached the door, the man jiggled the doorknob and grunted in frustration.

"It's locked," he snapped as he moved away and turned to her. "Can you pick it?"

While Leliana knew precious little about magic and magical anomalies, she did know doors, or rather the locks on them. People treated doors with too much respect. They eyed them warily and shuffled close and then did little more than press their soles against the wood. On her many visits to this particular door, her mind had registered the thickness of the door, the way the hinges moved and this all came back to her in a fraction of a second.

Leliana knew how to pick locks. But she also knew when not to pick them.

She took three steps towards the door at a comfortable walk. Nothing dramatic. As long as she kept moving, her upper leg could move faster, her lower faster still and her foot even faster, which allowed her heel to punch through the lock like it wasn't even there.

It's a question of force, Marjolaine had taught her. And force is mass times velocity squared, and the squared part puts a premium on speed, not weight. It's always better to move your foot ten times faster than to have ten pounds of extra weight. Never spend so much time picking a lock that you forget breaking down the door is always an option.

A lesson well learnt.

The redhead caught the door on the bounce and Aedan stepped in ahead of her. By mutual understanding, Aedan went straight towards Connor while Leliana knelt beside Alistair. The man sat with his head drooped, unmoving, and for a moment Leliana feared the worst.

His is body warm, she noted when she placed her hand on his shoulder. She shook him. "Alistair?"

His lips were tinted with white from exertion, but they quivered. Leliana couldn't make out what he said on account of the crunching of several sets footsteps on the staircase. She brought her ear close to his mouth and shook him again.

"Say that again?"

"I said..." His voice sounded like rough wooden boards grating upon one another. "I said that you arrived before schedule. Couldn't do my hair properly."

Turning back to face him, Leliana noted that the corners of his lips were curling upwards in a smile. His hair had fallen over his forehead, but she could still make out that his eyes were sunk into their sockets.

He looked like shit, but his smile still made her grin like an idiot, half out of relief and half out of affection.

"Dork," she told him as Arlessa Isolde broke into the room, howling while tears streamed down her face.

Leliana, with some effort, pulled his body against hers and Alistair placed his head on her shoulder.

"And I thought there'd be harps and lutes when I go out," he muttered in his gravelly tone as Leliana shifted to sit beside him. "Should've known it'd be Screeching Orlesian given my luck."

Amused as she was, Leliana couldn't help but feel a little alarmed when Alistair closed his eyes.

"Alistair?"

"Mmm. Just lemme sleep, yeah?"

Leliana watched on as Isolde showered her boy's sleeping face with kisses while simultaneously thanking Aedan profusely. The Warden was silently enduring this latest assault, but turned to her once while the Arlessa was busy wiping her nose.

He raised his brows and tilted his chin upwards slightly. A question. Leliana translated that as: How is he?

Smiling, she nodded once. He's okay.

She threaded her fingers into Alistair's hair, only to get a snore in response.

The bard sighed. "Sleep well."