From her concealed spyhole, Leliana watched for an agonising minute or more as Kieran joked with the children either side of him, and across from him, forcing herself to remain determined. He is the son I deserved to bear, not that uncivilized, unsophisticated witch from the swamp.
Then, she watched as he picked up his glass of pear juice, before downing the contents in one long drink.
Then, a few moments later, she heard him gag. It has begun. She gloated, seeing him glance around, terror burning in his eyes.
Then, a few moments later, he stopped being able to breathe, and his chair flattered backwards as he fell from it, gasping for a breath she knew would never come.
The girl next to him screamed as he toppled from his chair.
A few moments later, she saw a raven flash the length of the hall, dropping beside the boy, before turning into his mother. She'll get a ringside seat then. I doubt she'll care any more than her mother did about her.
And then she saw the terror and horror on the woman's face, and realised her mistake. She loves the boy? Then... she... oh maker.
Without stopping to watch the witch's frantic attempts to revive her son and save his life, she fled towards the one place she felt she could go.
Skidding through the door that would allow her to bypass the great hall, she almost sent one of her own agents sprawling, before sprinting up the steps towards Skyhold's Chantry, and through the double doors, before dropping to her knees in front of the Bride of the Maker
Oh, Andraste... she silently prayed. What demon possessed me to act so viciously towards a child?
She received no answer. The shadows on the face of Andraste didn't change.
Oh maker... What have I done?
-0#0-0#0-
Eragon Cousland dropped to his wife's side, noticing the huge amount of tenderness she was displaying, which caused him to smile slightly at the reminder of just how much she loved her son.
Then she turned away from the boy, before raising her hands into an a very familiar position.
"Morri..." He began, before she started throwing fireballs into the rafters, using the same kill-pattern she'd perfected against darkspawn during the blight. "Whoa... Why are you setting fire to the roof?"
"That fucking bard!" She screeched, sounding more like her raven-form than her normal self. "I'm going to kill the bitch!" Her hands continued the sequence of fireballs almost unconsciously as she swore. "That... frowsy, air-headed, vision seeing, orlesian cow." Morrigan raged. "Didst her blighted maker send her a vision that bade her to poison my son... did she think twould somehow alter her actions when you were willing to sleep with her?"
"Darling." Eragon said. "You've set fire to the roof of the main stronghold of the inquisition, not Leliana." Then he kissed her, pulling her close, and twisting the amulet she'd given him out from under his doublet. "Stop."
Reluctantly, she extinguished her hands, before throwing them around his neck.
"I thought Kieran lost, for a few moments. He's the only good thing I've ever had, aside from you. Twas terrifying."
"I love you." He reminded her.
"Tis good that you remind me of that." She said, breaking her hold, before placing her too-still son in her husband's arms. "I do not fear for him this moment, although I canst return to my seat, leaving him in the care of the physik in this place."
Eragon dotted a kiss on his barely conscious son's forehead, before following his wife, noticing that the rooms she'd selected were at the end of the corridor, with their own chimneys that went directly outside the walls. Kieran's room was past her own door, down a narrow side corridor at right angles to the main suite. Carefully, he carried his son through to the door, before slipping back his bedcovers, which showed the touch of his mother, featuring a griffon insignia on a background of pale blue, surrounded by a scroll effect in midnight blue lace.
With a tender hand few would have expected from a warrior with enough strength to drive his sword through both sides of a Red Templar with a single thrust, the warden tucked his son in, bringing the covers up to his chin, before kissing his forehead a second time.
Then he stepped out, gently closing the door behind him, leaving the boy to sleep.
Morrigan was waiting.
Alone, with the man she loved, and utterly trusted, she showed the emotion that she could never have shown anyone else.
She threw herself into his arms, and began to cry, heartrenching sobs tearing their way out of her chest, allowing the fear of a mother utterly terrified for her son, bottled up inside her as she had fought for her son's life. She'd nearly offered a prayer to the Maker, a deity she had never believed in in the slightest, in case it would make the slightest difference to her son's chances.
"I... near...ly... lost... your... son..." she gasped out between sobs.
"Morrigan, it wasn't your fault." He whispered, holding her tightly as she continued to brokenly sob. "It was the fault of whoever put the poison into whatever affected him."
"Not... who...ever..." she said. "Lel...i...ana..."
"We don't know that. How many people would want him harmed?"
"Her." Morrigan hissed.
-000-000-
Maker what have I done... maker what have I done... maker, what have I done? Leliana silently prayed, kneeling before the statue of Andraste in the Skyhold Chantry. Maker, I always believed in your gentle hand, and that you were guiding me through the darkness. How did I fall so far from the path you intended for me? I poisoned a child, because I am angry at his parents. Why didn't you send me a reason not to?
"Sister Leliana?" She heard, from behind her.
"Mother Gisele?" She replied, flustered.
"What ails you? You missed the feast." Gisele said. "Lady Morrigan's son was poisoned." She told her friend, in a conspiratorial tone. The perceptive priestess didn't miss the flinch as she mentioned the poisoning. "Sister Nightingale... What have you done?"
"May we talk in the confessional?"
"Oh... Leliana..." she said, her voice catching, sending a storm of shame through the former bard.
The redhead fled into the booth, pulling shut the door behind her, sobbing.
-0#0-0#0-
Tahiri Lavallan collapsed onto her bed, head cradled in her arms.
"Mythal..." she swore. "What just happened?"
As usual, there was no answer.
The feast had come to a very rapid end with the poisoning, the mages gathering up their bevy of apprentices, and all of the other parents collecting up their off-spring, in the fear that it was more than a targeted attack. The remaining diners had not been able to remain in the hall, after the fires started by Morrigan in the roofspace, although a small group of mages had managed to extinguish the fire by throwing large orbs of liquid water into the roofspace, which had left the remaining food and diners saturated.
"My Lady?"
It was Josephine.
"Ugh." She groaned.
"I have seen feasts go worse, my lady. Not much worse, that is true, but I have seen them go even worse."
"How?" The son of one of the most important figures in Thedas has been poisoned in my hall, and his mother has set the ceiling on fire."
"Well, if the assassin had remained in the roofspace, which would have been an exceptionally unwise decision, given the nature of Lady Cousland, and her temper, she would almost certainly have slain them."
"Did they?"
We haven't found a body yet, although the Grand Enchanter has managed to bring the blaze under control. Either way, we will need to fit a new roof to the hall, or at least replace entirely this sections that have been damaged in any way beyond soot by the fire."
"Mythal..."
"Did you poison the boy?" Josephine asked, suddenly. "Or order him poisoned?"
"No. What... Why would I?"
"Why would anyone?" Josephine asked.
-0#0-0#0-
"I was just... angry..." Leliana said. "At that apostate hag, at him, for casting me off, at..."
"Did you hate the child?"
"He... He was the reason he preferred her... she gave him a son, a child. All I gave him was a series of empty promises."
"Why did you try and murder the child?" Giselle asked.
"I thought... I..."
Anything further she might have said was interrupted when the doors at the rear of the Chantry suddenly entered the room at something approaching the local speed of sound
-0#0-0#0-
"Morrigan?" Eragon Cousland called, as he gently stroked his son's forehead. "Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Don't do anything unwise." He said. "We are guests here."
"Trouble yourself not about me." She said, before exiting the room.
The guardsman posted outside of her suite took a brief look at the mage, before melting out of her path.
It took her about fifteen heartbeats to conclude where the bard was going to be.
She'd located the temple to The Maker early on in her stay, primarily to be able to avoid it when roaming and pondering. Nothing made both harder than a priest following you around, talking about her religion.
That Bard, on the other hand, was aggressively religious, although, fortunately for her good health, not excessively so.
It wasn't going to be as beneficial for her health tonight.
She wasn't surprised to find the bar across the entrance to the room. It was the only way of keeping someone from entering.
Despite her atheism, she still half expected some reaction as she drew in a concentrated blast of kinetic energy, before throwing the entire force at the door to the chantry.
-0#0-0#0-
"Stay here." Giselle hissed at Leliana, gesturing for her to duck down in the congressional.
Then she stepped out into the path of a monumentally angry witch.
"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded. "This is a house of the Maker."
"Stand aside, you fool." Morrigan screamed. "I know you are sheltering the Bard."
"This is a house of the Maker," Giselle repeated. "We give sanctuary to those who are in danger."
"Tell me." Morrigan growled. "Does that include those who try to poison a child?"
"Are you going to hurt her?"
"Yes."
"Then it does include those who poison children."
"Then get out of my way." Morrigan yelled, picking up the priest in a invisible grip, her arms pinned to her sides. She threw the woman into a tapestry, before conjuring a fireball, and hurling it into the confessional.
"Taste some of the reward of your religion!" She screamed.
"You are so similar." Giselle said, sadly. "You are so angry, that she has dragged you down to her level. Is killing her worth becoming her?"
If she'd said anything else, Morrigan would have thrown back a cutting line. Instead, she stopped, before throwing a sphere of water into the burning booth.
Leliana had been lying on the floor of the booth. Unfortunately, that had been where the fireball had been aimed. The layer of wicker had fragmented the orb of flame, which almost certainly had saved the former bard's life. A direct hit from a Morrigan grade fireball would have killed a giant.
Reluctantly, Morrigan sat back in a pew, trying to avoid touching the wood with bare skin. Mother Giselle, with a stern look at the woman, reminding her bizarrely of Wynne, picked up a candle-snuffer, before beginning to sort through the ashes.
To her surprise, even knowing the devout orlesian, Leliana was quietly praying aloud, reciting the Maker's prayer.
"Our Maker, who sits on his golden throne, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Thedas as in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and glory, forever and ever."
"Sister Leliana!" The woman snapped. "Stand up."
Leliana obeyed, looking at Morrigan with the one emotion the witch had not expected: utter, sincere, horrified remorse.
"You did not complete your confession, and I will not break the seal of the confessional, regardless of temptation in this case. Sister Leliana: your penance is to make a full, earnest apology to Lady Morrigan Cousland. Furthermore, you will swear on your immortal soul never to bring to harm, or permit another to do so, Lady or Lord Cousland, their son, and any future descendants. Do you accept these terms, to redeem your soul in the eyes of the Maker and his Bride?"
"I accept my penance."
"Very well."
"Morrigan... I don't know what I can say. I have nothing but remorse for what I have done to your son and family. It was against both the Maker's law and our own. I'm sorry."
"Tis well that you are sorry, for twere that a lie, I would send you to your maker in the manner of his bride."
"Please!" She almost begged the witch.
"Very well. I accept your contrition, as long as you watch over my family and our descendants."
Then the witch turned on her heel, and stormed out of the Chantry.
Author's note: this was the way Leliana and Morrigan reacted to the situation. One of the things that most scares Morrigan is turning into her mother, which is the only reason she pulled back from an impromptu re-enactment of the death of Andraste, starring Leliana. Leliana, having watched what her poison did to Kieran, and the frantic actions of his mother, realised what she had done. I will admit to a small amount of padding in this chapter. I'd like to thank Spazapho and The Invisible Pretender for their reviews to the last chapter. Also, this is the first time I've reached 10k words so rapidly.