Chapter 70

Every time Alistair crested the hill to Haven, his eyes were invariably drawn to the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. A pinch of the ashes was what had cured Eamon. The man hadn't been sick for a day since. They'd had to fight through cultists and dragons and overly curious spirits. The Chantry had claimed the site after the Blight, restoring it and turning it into a pilgrim's paradise, what with it being the final resting place of Andraste.

And now something had come along and blown it all to bits. He sighed out of his nose as he disembarked his horse and walked her to the stable, shaking his head at the stable-boy who'd come to relieve him.

This is one job I know how to do.

After making sure his steed, Blandina, was secure and comfortable, he jogged up to Leliana's tent, eager to see her after his weeklong absence. Upon getting close, he realised that it was a very bad time.

"-Butler has turned on us," he caught her saying as he reached the tent. She was speaking to Tabris, who'd brought her a report of some kind. Leliana had recruited her a few years after the Blight. It was their business, so Alistair settled for leaning against a tent pole and waiting. "Did he think we wouldn't notice?"

"You knew him well?" Tabris asked.

"Not as well as I thought, apparently." Leliana sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "He killed one of my best agents and knows where the others are." She shook her head. "You know what must be done, Kallian. Make it clean. Painless, if you can. We were friends once."

Tabris nodded and offered him a smile on her way out. Alistair smiled back, but said nothing until she was out of earshot.

"Hard day?" he asked. Leliana chuckled drily as she came up and gave him a quick hug.

"What day isn't? But when did you get back?"

"Just a few moments ago. Came straight here. Was just eavesdropping."

"I can see that." She paused. "I sense disapproval."

Alistair shrugged. "I've never liked this game of spies. You know that. It's nothing new."

"But?"

"But... this is my first time seeing you ordering a kill."

"And?"

"And, I dunno." He shrugged. "I get it has to be done, but still. Kinda freaky."

"I thought you liked Princess Stabbity?"

"Honestly?" Alistair sat down on a nearby stool. "I don't like any of this. The fact that your job position exists at all is a sign that society has fallen. The Wardens, the Inquisition... we all exist to stave off emergencies, yes, but our existence is a reminder that emergencies aren't all that uncommon, you know?"

"I do know," Leliana replied after a while and came to sit on his lap, hooking her legs under his. "Believe me, I'd rather we didn't exist either, but in times of crisis, I cannot subscribe to your idealism, Alistair. I respect it, and am thankful that it exists, but I cannot function on it."

"Yeah." He took her hand and kissed her palm lightly. "But you know what? Idealism is what's needed in times of crisis. Gives people something to believe in and fight for."

"They have someone like that: the Herald of Andraste."

Alistair raised his brow. "Is that what we're calling her? What was her name again?"

"Ellana Lavellan."

"Right. But Herald of Andraste? Isn't that... too cheesy?"

Leliana stared at him pointedly and he had to laugh.

"All right, fine, I'm on board with cheesy, but isn't it too pretentious?"

"We didn't name her. The people did."

"And you're doing nothing to dissuade them."

"You said it yourself. They need something to believe in."

"Bloody hell," he muttered as he shook his head. "Is that what would've happened to Aedan and Hawke had they been recruited?"

Leliana had offered Aedan the position of Inquisitor before the Conclave. He'd refused, stating that Wardens couldn't interfere with politics. Similarly, Cassandra had tried to track down Hawke but she was nowhere to be found.

"We needed someone to take the reins. Cassandra and I couldn't do it. Having the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall would've given us more fame and credibility. People would have listened to what we had to say, at least."

"Well, Herald of Andraste out-pretentious-es both of those, so I think you're doing well overall."

Leliana snorted. "Enough about the Inquisition. What about you? How went your talk with the Architect?"

"Not bad. We sat and smoked. Had tea and biscuits. He showed me his collection of antique skulls."

"Alistair."

He sighed. "He doesn't know anything about it, but he said that it was pretty probable, judging from my descriptions, that it was another one of the Magisters."

Leliana remained silent for a while before rising. "I'll call a meeting. Can you give a more detailed report?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Come with me, then."

Swallowing his sigh, Alistair rose and followed, realising that their moment was over.

He'd heard once that the elves had a blessing: May you live in uninteresting times. At that moment, he understood exactly what they were talking about.

A/N: Aedan chapter up next.