CHAPTER 10: A Room with a View
Morrigan scowled at the sun's brightness, preferring nothing more than the comfort of darkness. Because then she would be left alone.
Already the quiet of the camp had been broken, disturbed by the infuriatingly loud chatter of that rock headed dimwit. Morrigan hissed in irritation as he bragged about his days as a Templar to anyone who would listen. As usual, Wynne was his only willing audience.
A pleasant smell travelled to the witch, dampening her irritation somewhat. At least the Chantry girl was serving breakfast- she would never trust Alistair's cooking again.
Ferelden's best recipe? Ha!
The recipe was nothing more than a few random ingredients thrown in together with meat, stewed until it resembled the waters of her swamp. Muddy and malodorous.
She sighed and grabbed a book from one of the heavy piles she had no choice but to lug around.
I suppose it is one of the results of this accursed quest.
She sighed again and, no sooner had she opened it than a shadow fell over her. The witch made a noise of exasperation.
"Is it not possible to have a moment's-"
It was the elf.
Morrigan clamped her mouth shut, golden eyes guarded. Ever since the Fade, she had the unbearably degrading impression she had lost her power. Knowledge was power, solitude was power. Friendship was a ridiculous and unnecessary attachment that humans clung to like children begging for treats.
And the Warden had glimpsed into a part of her life she would gladly burn to ashes. Magic had alerted her to the spirit's effects and she had been able to suppress the worst of her memories- but not that particular one, it seemed.
"Yes?"
Kallian sat down next to her and the witch grimaced.
It was not that she did not trust the girl- on the contrary, she was far more reliable than the idiot. Even if she was brought up in that disgusting hovel, her education belied the witch's usual opinion of city elves- typically submissive, lacking a backbone. And she had nothing to say against the girl's leadership.
However… that did not mean Morrigan was about to spill her life story to this elf.
"How are you feeling?"
Now what ruse is this?
"If you are referring to what happened last night, be assured that it is nothing to me. I simply said what was needed to be said… and that is that."
Kallian shrugged. "Fair enough. I don't agree with everything you said… but I think you're doing the best you can."
Morrigan eyed her suspiciously but replied civilly. "Thank you."
The elf smiled slightly. "But I do agree with what you said about re-examining ourselves."
"Indeed?" the witch asked, even more suspicious now.
"After what happened at the tower… you're right- we need a battle plan. We can't just charge into a fight anymore. As you pointed out- Alistair was blocking your way most of the time. And sometimes, I don't even know who's going to do what."
Morrigan smiled. "Well, that is certainly the most rational answer I have heard so far."
A crooked smile appeared on Kallian's face. "Thanks." She paused and shrugged. "Look, I know this can be a dysfunctional group but… let's try to keep the peace. You should relax more, neutralize your tone. People will listen to you."
"If I wasted my energy on meaningless courtesy when there are problems to be addressed and work to be done…"
Kallian studied her for a few seconds before rummaging in her pack. The witch narrowed her eyes. "Well, if that won't convince you…" The elf held out something black and heavy to her. "I found this at the Circle To-"
But the witch had already snatched it from her grasp. "This is… this is mother's grimoire!"
The elf looked surprised at her reaction but quickly recovered. "I take it that you needed it?"
"Indeed, I did, but…"
"I thought you might appreciate it."
The witch looked at her incredulously.
"Well, I am glad you were able to find it… my thanks for retrieving it," she said seriously. Then she turned her golden eyes on the leather bound book again, beside herself with delight. Oh, the secrets, the knowledge- wonderful knowledge! "I shall begin studying it immediately and unlock the power that it holds!"
Kallian smiled and nodded. "Well then, is this enough to persuade you to-"
"Yes, yes," said Morrigan impatiently, sighing. It was a small price to pay. "I shall heed your words of advice."
"Brilliant," said the elf, standing up. And with that, she walked away towards the pot.
What? No mention of what happened in the Fade?
Morrigan wondered if the girl was waiting for the right moment, the right opportunity to use it against her. Perhaps.
But no matter, she had retrieved the very thing she had been searching for. Something her mother had spent her whole life keeping her daughter from touching.
The witch glanced at the elf again. Now that she considered it, the elf had changed these past few weeks in more ways than one. Morrigan preferred the former reticence… but if this change had prompted her to find the grimoire, she could not complain.
She shook herself. All this pointless wondering and thoughts about emotions and friendship were distracting her from the real task. With newfound enthusiasm, Morrigan buried her nose in the grimoire and studied vigorously for the next few minutes.
"Breakfast, everyone!" called Alistair.
The very sound of his voice grated on her nerves.
No matter, as long as the chantry girl's food is satisfactory…
She stood and walked over to receive her meal. As she drew near, she glared at the Warden's back.
"So did you sleep well Kallian?" he asked the elf.
"Yeah. No nightmare, no Archdemon."
"Excellent! See, I was right to help you out. The weather can really have an effect, you know."
Now what is this I'm hearing? Then Morrigan shook her head. No, 'tis not even worth my time.
"It's good that there are other women in the group," continued Alistair. "I mean, obviously the witch would never be as nice as Leliana."
Morrigan snorted. Clearly he wanted me to listen.
"My dear, you could have asked me if you wished to," said Wynne, coming to take a seat.
"I did come to ask but you were already asleep…"
"Ah, I see. I'm afraid my body is not what it was years ago. I must have fallen asleep quite early. It's very kind of you to do this for Kallian, Alistair," said the old woman, smiling.
The witch nearly dropped the bowl Leliana was handing to her. Kind? She almost laughed out loud. The woman must certainly be old if she could not see the motive behind the man's actions. Even Morrigan had noticed the painfully obvious advances he was making towards the elf. It was rather amusing, actually. She enjoyed seeing how oblivious the elf was and how futile Alistair's attempts were.
The man beamed. "It was nothing. Besides, I'd like to think I created a new friendship. Nothing like sharing a tent to build connections."
Sharing a tent?
Ah yes, the girl's dog had ripped her tent prior to Redcliffe. Morrigan almost felt sorry for the elf- it must have been a nightmare to stomach the ramblings of the chantry girl.
"What were you two talking about anyway?" asked Alistair, walking away from Leliana with his bowl. "I could hear you giggling and laughing from my own tent."
"Just… things."
Morrigan's eyes narrowed as she took in the faint blush on the elf's pale cheeks.
"Oh, I see- girl talk, is it? Don't worry then, I won't press you."
The witch nearly spilled her meal again when something wet nudged her. She looked down in disgust.
Talon stared at her with those ridiculously pleading eyes.
"Stop looking at me, mongrel. I have nothing you want!"
The Mabari whined.
"Why do you keep staring at me so, you flea-ridden beast! Can you not tell when you are not wanted?"
Clearly, it couldn't.
"Come on, boy. Stop bothering Morrigan," said Kallian, walking over. She gave the witch an apologetic look and pulled him away.
Good riddance.
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"You there, have you seen my son?" asked the man.
Morrigan took in his rich doublet and the self-importance etched into his posture. She assumed this was the Arl.
The man looked panicked and wild. "I can… I can hear him but I cannot find him. This blasted fog has me turning in circles."
The witch sighed. Once again, she was left with the onerous task of explaining such simple facts to ignorant fools. "This is the Fade. Your kind cannot navigate it anymore than you can navigate a dream."
"I don't understand. Where is my Connor?"
Lovely.
"I will find him for you, since I foolishly gave my word that I would. Leave me to it."
And she hurried along the path toward the dark portal, leaving him still crying out for his son.
The witch stepped through it to emerge on a similar path leading up to a hill. She could make out a small figure at the top.
That must be the boy.
Sure enough, the boy Connor was standing at the top of the slope. Considering the demon's welcome they had received, she was not expecting manners. But she did not expect the outright insolence of the boy.
"Who are you?" he demanded, glaring. "Are you the one that made father ill?"
"Shoo," the witch replied, trying to keep her voice pleasant. "Run along and play!"
"No! You're here to hurt father, I know it! I won't let you!"
Then the demon showed itself.
Morrigan charged up a spell, the orb on her staff glowing. She fired bolts of magic successively and watched with satisfaction as the demon weakened. She gave one last burn and it vanished into thin air.
Too easy.
But she knew it was not over. Morrigan ran down the slope to follow the path, past strange trees, pillars and structures that seemed to be composed of a material similar to bone. She entered the next portal and found the boy again. The demon revealed itself and she sighed, hurling fire and ice at it. And if that was not enough, a Rage Demon appeared out of nowhere.
She froze it quickly and killed it with a few blasts of ice.
After that, she continued down the path to the last portal, stepping out into a small area with the demon in the centre.
The demon eyed her warily as she approached.
"Very well. No more illusions. You see my true form and stand in my domain. But I have no wish to engage your power, nor should you be so eager to engage mine. Perhaps, we should converse?"
Morrigan let out an incredulous laugh. "Do you take me for a fool? I know better than to bargain with your kind!"
"Very well then, if you wish a battle… you will have it!"
The witch braced herself as the demon attacked, shielding herself with a ward. She took the chance to strike her with electricity, satisfied when it staggered, stunned. Morrigan sent a blizzard of ice crystals toward it and the demon cried out. Then it scowled and disappeared, re appearing as four identical demons.
Interesting…
The witch hurled blasts of magic at three of them in quick succession. There was a shriek of disappointment and the demon vanished again. Morrigan waited for it to reveal itself.
It re appeared to her left and the witch rolled forward to avoid a vicious swipe.
She stood and followed through with a stab at the demon's sternum with the tip of her staff. After catching it off balance, Morrigan cast the next spell and it erupted into flames. The demon screamed in pain and disintegrated on the spot.
Morrigan straightened and smiled in satisfaction.
And so my work here is done.
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Leliana sat by the windowsill, looking down at the cobbled courtyard, enjoying this rare moment of safety and peace. Morrigan's success in the Fade had taken care of the immediate issue, earning them the favour of the Arlessa. It would still be some days before they departed again.
The wind was a pleasant, salty breeze and the sky a liquid blue. She inhaled the cleansing scent from the sea, mingled with… a new fragrance she had long forgotten.
The sister felt her lips stretch into a smile. A true smile- not a necessity, not a weapon to be used, but something natural. Just as flowers bloomed in spring, or as natural as the waves rolling in to the shore.
She hadn't smiled like this since leaving Ferelden. No, not since-
Leliana closed her eyes as the emotions knifed through her chest without warning. She tried to push it down, but it was no use. The best she could do was to dull the edges to an ache.
Why do I still feel like this? It has been… so long.
But she knew why. The final blow had been unbearably brutal, ripping past her defences and allowing her to see the vulnerability in herself. She had thought she had mastered the Game. That nothing could surprise her. Oh, how wrong she had been. And the memories were persistent, striking through gaps in her defence when she least expected it. She hadn't told anyone but they hounded her at night in her dreams. She saw the kind face of Sketch, Tug's staring face in the dungeons, and Marjolaine's last beautiful smile as she handed Leliana over to the guards.
It sickened her.
Over and over again, she told herself she had been young. That she didn't know better. But it was more than that… she had let herself fall in love. And she couldn't forgive herself for not seeing through it. It had cost her dearly. Leliana saw the images infiltrating her mind and gave up, surrendering to the memories rolling in. Once again, she was standing in the courtyard of the Arl's estate…
Urgent ringing hammered in her ears as Leliana ran to meet Marjolaine. It was cold, and the constant sound matched the thumping of her own heart.
This was wrong. This was all very wrong.
But the sight of her lover approaching made her limbs relax a little.
"Marjolaine, I fought as many as I could! But there must be more," she said, voice betraying her worry.
The woman smiled her dazzling smile. She reached out and caressed the bard's cheek, shaking her head. "It's alright, my pretty thing."
Then she paced slowly around Leliana, as cool and composed as ever.
But Leliana wasn't done. "We can tell them about the papers. There must be an embassy. Orlais can petition," she suggested desperately.
There must be another way, she thought. We can't afford to start another war.
Marjolaine leaned in to her ear from behind. "Shh, my pretty thing. Shh." Leliana shivered at the bardmaster's rich, silky voice.
How can she be so calm at a time like this?
A terrible image of Marjolaine's limp form on the gallows flashed in her mind. No! She couldn't let it come to that.
"Our plan will work, won't it?"
The woman's sculpted lips stretched into a knowing smile. "I have a way out, yes."
Leliana gave a shuddering gasp as the knife was thrust into her, blood pouring out freely. She was so stunned she was momentarily unaware of the excruciating pain ripping through her torso. The bard choked as she saw Marjolaine walking away leisurely.
Then the sensations came crashing down and she collapsed to her knees, gripping the handle with a shaking hand. A cry of agony burst from her throat as she wrenched it out. The weapon clattered onto the stones.
Leliana knelt there, her vision flickering as the pain consumed her. She swayed and gasped, barely able to breathe. It was so intense she was waiting to lose consciousness.
Only one thought came to mind. Why?
"Well, well, well," came a sneering voice. "An Orlesian spy, caught with her hands on hard- won Ferelden intelligence. You'll be worth a pretty sum."
Leliana tried to lift her head, breathing ragged and fast. A stocky man with cruel eyes lowered himself to her level.
"Once we've had our fun, of course," he said with a lecherous smile. He jerked his head, signalling to another soldier.
Leliana caught a glimpse of an armoured fist hurtling towards her face before the world exploded into pain.
Everything went black.
That was the last she ever saw of Marjolaine. No explanation and no goodbyes. She was left in the dungeons to rot and die. And Leliana had lost her heart after that- she left it behind in Orlais.
Mother Dorothea had taken her in and the Chantry became her refuge.
But aside from the Revered Mother, she had never let in anyone to her heart. If it was ever anything, it was a game to her- a charming smile and a few well-chosen words and she could have her way. After all… she had learned from the best. Leliana turned her eyes back to the courtyard again and her gaze lingered on the wild form in the training grounds.
Kallian.
The Warden was landing furious blows on the dummy, twisting and smashing it, dark hair flying. It was like she was possessed- so focussed, so intent. Even when they were trading jokes and speaking of meaningless things, there was always a certain gravity about her. Her dark eyes were at times unreadable, sometimes intelligent, beyond her age. Other times…
Leliana thought about last night when the elf came to visit her. The bard had been overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture. She had mentioned it once amongst the many things they talked about and she would have thought it buried under everything else.
But the elf had remembered. And when she had thanked Kallian for it, she recalled the way those dark eyes warmed- if that were even possible. They were so warm and transparent she felt it seep into her and spread all over.
What did it mean?
Leliana felt closer to this elf than anyone she had ever met.
"Believe what feels right to you. It doesn't matter what others say. You know what you believe in, and that is enough."
These words had given her more strength than she admitted to herself. A comfort she could not explain. She needed this certainty in her spirit to keep believing. The bard fingered the symbol of Andraste hanging around her neck, thinking. At first, the elf had been so cold and intimidating that Leliana never imagined she would befriend her. Hostile and cold hearted, she had thought. But she recalled the time she helped pitch Leliana's tent, her apology and then the two gifts… there really was someone else under the surface.
Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened in Denerim.
The bard sat there for a long time, bathed in the scent of Andraste's Grace, watching the Warden train down below. Finally, Kallian seemed to have finished. She stopped, wiping the sweat off her forehead and gazing up at the sky. When she turned her eyes toward the castle, Leliana jumped away from the window.
After a while, she returned to it and saw that Kallian was gone. She let out a breath and shook her head. What was wrong with her? It wasn't like she was hiding anything.
You were spying on her, a voice told her.
No, argued Leliana. I was watching her train.
That is called spying.
The bard sighed and waved the thoughts aside. Again she gazed out the opening to face the comforting breeze. She was so absorbed in her observations that she didn't realize that the ache in her chest was gone.