Chapter 52

Alistair wasn't usually one for walking around in the middle of the night. As far as he was concerned, night time was for sleeping. And he'd tried to be a good boy and stick to that, but for a cocktail of reasons, sleep remained elusive.

A lot had happened that day. Stoping a slave trade, being attacked by Antivan assassins, the whole Marjolaine thing... perhaps he was too tired to sleep. Either that or the memory of Leliana's pitifully hopeless voice as she'd walked out of Marjolaine's house was what kept him up.

She'd told him that she needed some time to herself, and Alistair had let her be. She hadn't shown up at supper, and he hadn't seen her in a few hours. He was about to change that.

"It's me," he said and knocked on her door. She was always there for him and he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to help her through this. "I know you're awake. Can I come in?"

He knew her, knew how she worked. She would be awake, rolling around rudderless in a sea of guilt. Suffering was the Maker's way, after all.

There was a long wait during which Alistair thought that she must have dozed off to sleep. While he didn't get to see much of it, fighting Marjolaine couldn't have been easy. Rest was essential for recovery and he felt a tad guilty for having possibly interrupted her sleep.

Just as he was about to turn away, he heard the latch being undone and the door opened to reveal a haggard looking Leliana, dressed in a simple night robe and sporting a tight smile. She said nothing, but motioned for him to come in and stepped aside.

The room was illuminated by a lantern on the nightstand, and the moonbeams entering through the window. Alistair's gaze was drawn to the bed, which showed no signs of having been slept in.

"Can't sleep?" Leliana bolted the door and passed by him to stand at the window overlooking the courtyard. She shook her head. Alistair took a step closer. "Have you tried?"

Again a shake of the head. "I just can't get what happened out of my head."

Alistair hummed. At least she was willing to talk. He just didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Leliana filled the silence herself.

"I'd been in Lothering for years and she still thought I was plotting against her. She didn't trust me. Maybe she never did. She loved me when she could use and control me, but when she couldn't, she tried to have me killed." She chuckled darkly and immediately clutched her side. "It... hurts to realise that I didn't really know her."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You're helping just by listening, Alistair." She threw him a smile over her shoulder. "I knew she was ruthless and self-serving. She used people and discarded them. But I understood, you know? That was the only way she could survive in the world she lived." Then she sighed. "All I could think of, though, was whether she was right. What if we are the same?" Her voice shook and she gulped. "I... I should have stayed at the cloister."

"Leli, don't be ridiculous," Alistair said. It hurt to see her so... defeated. "Lothering didn't survive. Besides, didn't the Maker tell you to leave?"

"I could've been wrong about the Maker!" She hugged herself. "I... I know you doubt me sometimes. So do the others. Maybe you're right! Maybe... maybe I just tell myself he's there to console myself, to know there's something watching out for me, to know I'm not alone!"

The sudden force in her voice startled him. She was ranting, he knew, but he was seeing her core beliefs falter. This was a tender, fragile Leliana, and she had to be handled with care or she would break irreparably.

Now if only I knew how.

"Maybe I never found faith," she went on, talking faster now. "Maybe I just pretended because I knew the Chantry would hide me. I forgot my life as a bard when I was in the cloister. I felt safe. I didn't have to watch my back all the time. That's what made Marjolaine the person she was, don't you see?" She whipped around to face him. "It ruined her. It will ruin me too. And those around me." She hung her head and leant a shoulder against the wall hopelessly. "It's already happened. When I killed her... I enjoyed it. I wanted to end her, and having done so gave me satisfaction."

"She deserved it, though," Alistair rebutted but Leliana shook her head.

"That is no reason to rejoice after her death. It is what she would do. I do not want that. What we're doing... what we've done – hunted men down, killed them – part of me loves it. It invigorates me and that scares me." She bit her lip and turned back towards the window. "I took great pleasure in the intrigue back in Orlais. It was dangerous and chaotic... and exciting... and it ruined my life. I thought the Chantry showed me another path. I sometimes think that I lie when I say that the Chantry gave me peace when it truth it... it bored me. Here with you, knowing the freedom of the road and the uncertainty of tomorrow... I feel alive again."

"Okay, slow down, Princess Stabbity," Alistair said and went to stand beside her. "Let me take this one bit a time. First of all, you're not alone, okay?"

"But I was," she replied. "I was alone and desperate when I fled. I went to the only place I knew would take me. That was a decision I made consciously, after much debate. Faith didn't lead me there."

Alistair had heard enough by then, so he gently wrapped his arms around her and hugged her from behind. He heard her take a sharp breath, but she made no move to break away.

"You're a good person," he whispered against her ear. "You always will be."

"How do you know?" she asked miserably. "I feel like I don't even know myself, and... I feel like I'm slipping."

"Evil doesn't worry about not being good," he replied flatly. "Maybe you don't need the Maker or the Chantry. That doesn't mean you're a bad person. I don't care much about the Maker myself and I'm doing pretty well. Of course, I'm biased."

"That... is true," Leliana murmured and leant her head back against his shoulder.

"You taught me to look at things from different perspectives," he responded. "I've learnt a lot from you, Leliana, and allow me to use one of those skills on you now." Alistair paused, gathering his thoughts. "I've known you for a year. I've observed things in that time and I've made something of a profile about you. You say you feel like you don't know who you are. Maybe hearing about yourself from my perspective will help a little with that."

Leliana remained silent a while, considering this. Eventually she nodded.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay, then." Alistair cleared his throat. "When you were young, you courted fun and danger, but when the Game suddenly wasn't as fun as the name made it out to be, you felt guilty because you realised that what'd been reckless and fun was actually destroying the balance between two countries and their people. You stopped blindly trusting Marjolaine and thought for yourself, took action, did the right thing, and got betrayed for it." He paused. "The fact that you realised this set you and Marjolaine apart. You feel guilty for ever idolising Marjolaine because now, thinking for yourself, you realise she was egoistic and unsympathetic.

"So, since you want to be the exact opposite of that, you become a nun and spend five years being idealistically good. You say the nun life bored you, but you lived it anyway because you wanted to prove to others and yourself that you weren't defined by your natural inclinations toward violence. You gave yourself to the greater good, but you still remarked to me that you didn't regret leaving Lothering to the Darkspawn. You were the only one in Zevran's corner because you understood him. You were even sceptical of the Chantry and didn't accept what they preached at face value. You hadn't cast off your pragmatic mentality even when you were travelling with us but were striving to strike a balance between idealistic and pragmatic."

He stopped for breath. Leliana remained silent. Alistair sighed and went on.

"You went from guide to guide, hoping to gain direction, but you never built yourself. That's why your identity is always fluctuating. You feel you don't know yourself because you're still under construction. The ideal and the pragmatic are both a part of you. What Marjolaine and the Chantry drilled into you are both you. You don't have to be one or the other." Alistair pulled her tighter against his chest. "But you have to be you. I don't know how you can do that, but I'll tell you this. You've lived a life of both extreme chaos and extreme stasis, and an extreme amount of anything is bad. When I was learning to Smite mages, I was taught how to tap into the Fade and bend reality at my will. You can't do that if you lean too heavily to either the physical or mystical sides."

Alistair rubbed his cheek against hers. "There has to be balance, so neither side can overwhelm the other. You have to find your centre, otherwise this will all fall apart. You have a girl who was taught to look up to you." Leliana gasped. "You can show her Marjolaine's way. You can show her the Chantry's way." Alistair smiled and kissed her cheek. "Or you can show her your way. Whatever you choose to do, I'll always be with you, Leliana. You're not alone. Not anymore."

He had nothing more to say. Whatever needed to be said had been said.

I trust you to do the rest.

In time, Leliana turned around in his arms and returned the embrace gingerly. Alistair kissed her forehead.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're welcome," he replied.

"Alistair?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't... I can't... will you stay with me tonight?" She sounded like a little girl, frightened of the dark. "I would rather not be alone."

He pressed his forehead to hers and smiled to himself.

"Of course."