AN. I'm so sorry for taking so long with the update! I'm currently working on this one, a ME2 fanfic and the old Tread Carefully. I hope you enjoy this update though. :)

It looks like Leliana is starting to realize that Sin is going to be important in her life... This chapter depicts Leliana's past, and the demons she carries with her.

A big thanks to everyone of you who has reviewed, read, faved, subscribed... and more!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! 3

~Elmjuniper

PAST IMPERFECT

"MY PRETTY LITTLE THING." Marjolaine's voice is hoarse with desire as she lowers her mouth onto the bard's wet mound, aching for the feel of her lover's lips and tongue on it. The bard squirms impatiently, clasping at the thick, dark hair. Marjolaine laughs at her eagerness before taking her into her mouth, letting her slick fingers slide inside bard who gasps in pleasure.

"I love you." Leliana stated, affectionately as she pulled a string of hair from the master manipulator's face. Marjolaine chuckled as she let her index finger trace circles on the bard's naked skin imprinting an invisible signature across her stomach causing the bard to giggle.

"My Leliana." The raven-haired beauty purred in her heavy Orlesian accent before rolling over. "We have much to do tonight. Do you think you are up for it?"

The bard had snorted. "It's me Marjolaine. You know I'm up to anything."

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The pain. It was unbearable! The bard twisted to the side, gasping for air before falling to her knees, her thoughts jumbled from the pain and confusion. Everything had gone so well, they had managed to sneak back in to commander Raleigh's office and planted the documents in his desk. The documents which included detailed descriptions of Orlais' composition, documents of treason signed by Marjolaine. The bard was up to most things, but treason? She had pleaded with Marjolaine to get rid of them some how, and her mentor had agreed to plant them in the desk, so what had happened? Where had the guards appeared from? What was the excruciating pain in her side? Falling to her knees she felt Marjolaine shift behind her.

"Commander, this is the spy." She heard her mentor's voice call out.

"What?" Pain was taking over, disorienting her. "Marjolaine?"

The master manipulator retreated away from her as the commander and his men came walking up to them.

"This is the spy?" He frowned as his men pulled her to her feet.

"No, this is a mistake, tell them Marjolaine." She pleaded with her mentor. Why was she not vouching for her?

The commander walked up to her and grabbed a fistful of her long, red hair. She cried out in pain.

"Do you know what they do to spies in Orlais? You thought you were going to sell this information to Ferelden, did you? Well, you were wrong!" Tiny specks of saliva landed on her face as Raleigh screamed down her face, yanking her hair hard.

Tears sprung from her eyes as she saw Marjolaine walk up to stand behind the commander. "You'll see what happens to traitors." He said coldly before yanking the knife from her side. She screamed in pain, her vision blurring. Breathing heavily she tried to stay conscious. She could not let them take her! This must all be a mistake, Marjolaine knew this, she… Her eyes fell on the bloodied knife in the commander's hand. It was a fine elven made blade, the hilt wrapped in the finest Antivan leather.. It was a fine specimen. She knew all of this for it was the dagger she had given Marjolaine for her birthday.

"No! No, no, no!" She whimpered, shaking her head in disbelief as her mentor stared indifferently at her.

"Take her away. I want her brought back to Orlais." Raleigh ordered his men.

She had tried kicking, but her side ached far too much and her kicks resembled nothing more than a slight twitch. She tried screaming but one of the guards stuffed his glove into her mouth. Then someone pulled a bag over her head, the cold smile on Marjolaine's face the last thing burned into her mind. She was dragged along, shoved forward until she stumbled, then pulled onto her feet again just to be pushed again, her mind frenzied with fear and terror, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't breathe! She couldn't see!

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Leliana's eyes fell on the lute next to her where she sat outside the tent which Alistair so kindly had lent her. Had it really been two years since that fateful night in Denerim? She sighed, closing her eyes. Two years. Sometimes it felt as if she had aged fifty years since Marjolaine's betrayal, other times it felt as if it was only moments ago and the anger and hurt flared up again.

Raleigh – the commander who had beaten and tortured her, broken her with his men until she sobbed begging for mercy, had been right. She was a scared, pathetic, little girl by then. She had followed Marjolaine blindly. Devoted to the mentor she loved so unconditionally. Looking back at it she should have seen the signs, read the warning signals. She glanced sideways at the companions as they prepared themselves for a good night's sleep. Sinniralin, the elf, tossed her satchel onto the ground before ducking into the tent she shared with their leader. The satchel was deep-green, not like Marjolaine's. Hers had been a subtle corn coloured satchel. Leliana remembered it clearly. It had no initials embroidered onto it, no personal belongings stuffed into it. She snorted. The very thing she admired about Marjolaine – her way of never giving away anything of herself, yet being able to seem so personal, so honest and true, but in truth she was simply sticking to the rules of the game… of course she was bound to use it on Leliana as well. What had she really known about Marjolaine? Was any of it real? Or was it all just lies and deceits? It must have been lies, no one could do what Marjolaine had done to her.

Chewing her bottom lip she tried to focus on the warm campfire, tell the different shades of red and yellow from one another, trying to see where the blue in the flames started and ended. When it didn't work she pinched her nose bridge, closing her eyes. Why was she remembering all of this now?

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Waking up she found her arms and legs in shackles on the table she was lying on. They were too tight and cut into her flesh every time she tried to move. The thick linen bag was stilled placed on her head, but someone had removed the guard's glove. Her head pounded, her side throbbing from her wound. Her arms had been sliced by thin glass daggers, leaving her bleeding, and aching. Her feet burned with such pain she could barely breathe. They had cut her foot soles so that she would not be able to escape. She cried silently where she lay before the pain became so overwhelming she fell unconscious once more.

The bag was abruptly ripped off her head as two guards forced her onto her knees.

"You only have to tell me who you work for. Who were you going to sell those documents to?" Raleigh's aggressive voice sounded from behind her back.

"I'm not a spy." She whispered weekly. She had been denied water and food, only given some to keep her alive, nothing more. The guards would bag her head the minute their torture was over and she could no longer remember whether she had slept or not.

"You wench!" Raleigh roared behind her back before the two guards forcefully pushed her head into the tub filled with water in front of her.

Panic struck her as she gulped fistfuls of water, trying desperately to push her head back, but two sets of hands held her firmly in place underneath the surface. Her lungs screamed for air, black dots swimming before her eyes when her head was finally pulled up by the hair. She vomited and gasped for air. They continued until she fainted and the commander decided he had had enough fun for one day.

Waking up she found herself naked in a cell, stripped of all her clothes. The dungeon was cold and damp and she huddled into a ball to keep herself warm. Her body was cut and bruised, swollen in places she didn't even know existed until now.

The door to her cell rustled as a guard leaned into it, his steel armour grating against it. "He's coming for you, you know." He stated matter-of-factly.

It took her a while to realize he was talking to her. "W-what?"

"The commander. He's tiring of your games, spy. He's coming for you."

"P-please help me, I didn't… he can't just kill me." She sobbed. She didn't want to die, not now, not like this.

"That's not what he's going to do. He's going break you. Afterwards he might kill you." The guard laughed.

She had wept into her hands, fear racking her cold, naked body, her mind petrified by what she was going to have to endure.

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Leliana shivered where she sat as she sought comfort in the warm campfire with her eyes, and from the sounds of the companions moving in the camp with her ears. It calmed her, kept her grounded whenever she thought the memories of that night would bring her in and trap her, swallow her whole.

She had been so young, so foolish. Naïve. And a lot angrier and wild back then. She smiled to herself. She had in fact been quite cheeky and insolent at that time. To think that she had pinned those undergarments up on the Chantry board! She giggled a little not caring if anyone heard her. Sketch and Tug her two comrades in arms had always rolled their eyes at her sometimes childishly innocent mischief.

Tug. It was with a dull sense of sadness she remembered her former crew member who had died at the hand of Raleigh. Anger swirled to life again and she felt her head pound, as she tasted blood in her mouth. She had avenged his death, she could do no less, he was like the father she never had and the commander had taken that from her, had tortured him until his body could no longer bare the pain inflicted on it. She remembered Raleigh's face contort in fear as she raised the candelabra above her head. She remembered the satisfaction it gave her, the rush of power surging through her. Then she had turned to Marjolaine, the woman she loved and had so solely given her heart to, the one who had betrayed her, cast her to the wolves.

Marjolaine's eyes had never been browner. Never been colder. A chill crept down the bard's spine as she remembered the darkness in them.

"Why?"

"Ah, my Leliana, you cannot be so gullible. Surely you must know why, beside the fact that the commander was an excellent, how shall I say it…? Lover."

"You already destroyed me Marjolaine, and still… you're trying to hurt me." She turned her back from her mentor, not really caring if Marjolaine decided to kill her for real this time. Parts of her were already dead.

"Because… the documents, you knew about them, and eventually… you would betray me…" Marjolaine moved behind her back. "So I did it first."

So I did it first. Those were the last word Marjolaine had spoken to her before she had fled to Lothering. Marjolaine had walked away before the bard had turned around, taking with her not only her heart, but also the purest part of her soul, and Leliana knew she would never be the same again.

"Are you alright?"

The bard jumped at the sudden sound of the templar's voice. "Oh, Allycat. You scared me."

The templar frowned at his nickname. "You know, my name is Alistair."

Leliana chuckled. "I'm sorry, Alistair."

"Well, now it just sounds pompous." He pouted before holding out a bowl with soup in it. "Sin told me to come give you this, saying that you probably needed cheering up."

Accepting the bowl she looked across the campfire to see Sin standing on the other side, the strange shadowcloak swirling around her feet. Tilting her head slightly wondering what made the elf think she needed cheering up. Sin chuckled form where she stood, giving her the slightest nod before taking off into the pitch black forest to stand guard.

"Thank you." She said smiling to herself.

"She also instructed to give me this. Under the threat of beating me to a pulp if I didn't I might add."

She laughed. Alistair and Sin didn't really get along. They weren't exactly rivals, but there was the glares and straightening up whenever Deanna was near. Unrolling the small parchment she saw Sin's elegant handwriting. Just so you know, you're not alone. Alistair makes for pretty good company if you want to listen to stories about pretty bunnies and cheese.

She laughed her twinkling laughter before tucking the rolled up parchment inside her bracers.

"I should go find her." She excused herself quickly to the bewildered templar.

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Raleigh hadn't come for her that night. He had wanted her to feel the terror paralyse her. He wanted her own mind to hurt her as much as he would. The night he sent for her was a damp, chill night. The guard who came to fetch her walked silently behind her in the dim lit corridors, the rustling of his armour the only sound.

"The commander is waiting for you." He said coldly as they came to the end of the corridor.

She swallowed thickly before she pushed the door open. She was wearing a thin gown barely covering her body. He stood up as he heard her enter and motioned for her to walk towards the bed. Doing as she was told her eyes darted back and forth desperately looking for something to use as a weapon. Her eyes fell on the sabres that hung majestically above the bed like an ornament. They crossed each other above the Orlesian emblem, and she could see the candles reflect their dull light in it. She felt her heart race as she tried to figure out how to unhook the sabres when Raleigh was suddenly behind her, grabbing her by the throat.

"Don't even think about it." He snarled where he stood, pulling her close, grabbing her breast roughly with his other hand.

She winced at the pain. He seemed to revel in it and dug his teeth into her throat kissing it passionately still holding her throat in a tight grip. She tried to fend him off, used her elbows to jab at his ribs. He only jeered at her, grabbing her between her loins violently. The repulsion she felt overtook her and she jerked her head forwards just to smash the back of it in to his face. There was eerie sound of his nose breaking before the commander screamed in agony. Despite her injuries and despite her fatigue she leapt away from him, twisting around to face him. His fist connected with her face, sending her sprawling backwards. He lunged at her, but she rolled over crawling away from him towards the door. She had almost reached it when his strong hand grabbed her ankle, jerking her backwards. She clasped at everything she could think of in panic, but he kept pulling her towards him. Then her hand felt the release of thick, cold iron in her hand and she looked up to see the heavy candelabra wobble above her. Acting instinctively she grabbed it with her other hand, twisting around as she sat up, swinging the heavy candelabra at the surprised commander. He grunted as it smashed into the side of his face. She swung at him again, and again, and then again. Blood splattered all over her and when she swung it the last time Marjolaine entered the room. The bard was standing above the commander by now, heaving, and crying as she dropped the large ornament to the floor. She could sense her mentor before she had even spoken a word. She could recognize her sweet smell from miles away.

When Marjolaine had left the bard spun on her feet. Darting around the room she pulled on the commander's clothes. They hung like bags on her scrawny body. Pulling off his large boots she dashed out in the corridors, boots in her hands, running as fast as she could. The walls echoed with the slapping of her bare feet against the cold stone, fear spurring her to keep moving. She didn't stop until midday, boots still held firm in her hand, her feet bloodied and raw from fleeing through the forest, climbing the high rising mountains that led to the Heartlands.

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Walking through the dark forest pushing the remnants of old memories aside she felt raindrops fall gently onto her face. Leliana stopped for a moment lifting her face towards the clear night sky letting the rain wash away the pain. Tears mingled with raindrops as she smiled. It was time to let go now. Other things had come into her life. Other people. Lowering her face her gaze fell on the illusive elf. Her smile widened when she saw something unexpected. The elf stepped out from the shadow she was skulking in, spreading her arms wide, face turned towards the sky, seemingly soaking up the rain. Observing her Leliana thought Sin seemed different somehow, not so dark and ominous. Her posture seemed less tense. Why was that?

She had wanted to talk to Sin. Something had changed since they had left the Fade. Something kept urging her to talk to the elf. Since their talk at the campfire she longed to talk to Sin again. The feeling stirred alive in her stomach whenever the elf was near, and she found herself shaking nervously, trying to think up a thousand different things she could say, but the elf always withdrew or stayed too far away. It was confusing, and frustrating. Whenever Sin walked by she was overwhelmed by the urge to just be close to her, but then something stopped her. As if a barrier shot up between them.

Watching Sin now Leliana could see her from a different point of view, there was something innocent about the elf standing in front of her. And as much as she wanted to finally try and talk to the elf again, she found that she'd rather remember her like this, so she stayed. Watching the elf with a smile on her face.