Dragon Age: Destiny's Rise
Royal Palace, Denerim
Day 649 (Dragon Age 9:31, Month 10, Day 19)
Leliana was pacing back and forth in the courtyard marking the entryway into the Royal Palace.
The messenger was late. He'd been late each of the previous four days as well.
The journey from Denerim to Amaranthine was not far. By messenger horse, a very rare commodity in Ferelden, only a three hour ride. Alistair had set up the system after Aedan's first communique had arrived almost two days late.
There had been issues.
All the Orlesian Grey Wardens were either dead or missing. Vigil's Keep had been overrun when he and Mhairi had arrived. Darkspawn were everywhere.
It had been kept very quiet.
More quiet was the fact that one of the darkspawn could talk.
Alistair had nearly ceded his position right there, grabbing his sword and shield and walking towards the door. Zevran had been ready to join him, but everyone else had managed to calm him and talk some sense into him.
Aedan's second missive was more optimistic.
Oghren had turned up. And to top it off, Aedan had actually made him a Grey Warden. Together with an apostate mage named Anders, they'd retaken the keep and already had things rolling.
But Mhairi had died. In the fighting apparently, according to Alistair.
Anora had been upset, Leliana as well. She'd liked the girl.
Life is so unfair sometimes...or all the time in our case...
The next message had sent Leliana into a spin.
She silently fumed as she paced back and forth. Even now, days later, she was still angry at him.
A Howe!
Of all people, he'd recruited a damned Howe into the Grey Wardens. His explanation had placated Alistair, not exactly pleased either, but willing to extend the benefit of the doubt under the circumstances. She'd relented after Zevran simply reminded her that as an assassin, and he considered himself one of the best, he had failed rather miserably at trying to kill Aedan. Not to mention that he too had joined them all under similar circumstances.
It had worked, somewhat, but thoughts of the boy's father, Rendon Howe, and what he had done to Aedan and his family played in her mind far to often for her liking.
Forgiveness was usually one of her better qualities. Zevran would have been dead but for her interjecting and stopping Aedan, as would have Sten, with Morrigan's assistance that time. She had even managed to forgive Marjolaine, after she had been killed of course, but there were strong feelings regarding what had happened to Aedan at the hands of the Howe's.
Not a day went by that she did not wonder what Aedan would be like now if his family hadn't been killed.
Of course we would have never met and I'd likely be dead...or worse...
She shook her head and continued pacing, waiting.
Additional letters sent had explained their progress. Another warden had been recruited. A second mage. A Dalish girl this time. Velanna.
Aedan had written Leliana and Alistair telling them just how much they were going to like her cheery and teamwork oriented attitude. Leliana had gotten the impression he was being sarcastic but Alistair had not caught on.
Zevran really looked forward to meeting her. Apparently Aedan had told him she was quite pretty.
Leliana had suddenly felt a little pang of jealousy when hearing that.
Not that she was surprised. Aedan was incredibly attractive, and they had both partaken in sharing a lover before. She had even discussed doing so again of late, though she had not told him of why yet.
Erlina, Anora's handmaiden, had caused her to think about it. Apparently the pretty elven girl had been secretly listening to them during some of their more...adventurous encounters. Leliana found that she had actually liked hearing that. A lot.
She had to admit, she rather missed the silky smooth touch of a woman's hand on her. Her tongue probing expertly all over...
She shook her thoughts clean and scanned the streets once again. Nothing.
Aedan was a fantastic lover of course. But some desires were hard to subdue it seemed.
And he certainly hadn't minded before. In fact, she was convinced that only fear of possibly upsetting her had kept him from asking again.
She smiled to herself as she walked the courtyard. Still waiting.
Him leaving sooner than expected had rather squashed that however.
Now, she was pacing back and forth, waiting for the latest message before...
Before I fulfill I promise...
A loud thud, a gate clanging against stone as it opened, brought her back. The horsemen stopped near her and dismounted.
He nodded politely to her as she approached. Before she could offer to take the letters, the young man spoke.
"Apologies my lady, but the Commander instructed me to give this only to the King, and no one else."
She narrowed her eyes. A flash of anger briefly crossed them before she spoke.
"The Commander keeps nothing from me, I will take them to the king."
The man seemed nervous. "He said you'd say that my lady. I have one for you as well, but the Commander said the king was to see them first."
She stood very still, eyeing him, more than a little mad. The letters were in the poach at his side. Her first instinct was to kick his legs out from under him and take the whole pouch, but it was not his fault. Instead she nodded and walked towards the main doors.
"Follow me then."
She led him through the doors and into the main hall. Alistair was not in there.
"Dammit!" She saw a maid walking by. "Where is the king?"
"My lady, he is in his chambers I believe."
She nodded and grabbed the young messenger's arm, dragging him towards the stairs and the Royal Chambers.
Crossing the threshold, into the Royal Chambers, she saw Alistair's door was closed. The servants were not present. She thought it odd for this time of day. She walked up to the door and knocked.
"Alistair!"
She heard a loud crash and a muffled yelp. Instinctively she put an ear to the door, listening carefully. Whispering could be heard. He was not alone.
"I need five minutes!"
Leliana normally would have given it to him, but her patience was nearly gone at this point.
"Alistair, if you only need five minutes you're still doing it wrong! I'm coming in."
She removed a lockpick from her belt and popped the lock. She hesitated for a second, but put it out of her mind. After all, they'd all lived together for over a year. In very close quarters at times.
Besides, she was a little curious...
She poked her head in the door and found Anora under the covers, semi-hiding. Alistair was standing naked, reaching for his pants. A wide smile crossed her lips.
"Ooh! Very nice... your majesty. I'm impressed."
Alistair turned three sheets of bright red but Anora actually giggled, shaking her head. Leliana turned to her, very surprised at her reaction. The two women had gotten rather friendly of late. Anora had even started bouncing things off of Leliana. Sometimes on matters of great importance, but barging into their private chambers was quite presumptuous of her, she knew.
"I really am sorry, but the messenger is here and he won't see anyone but him. It's important." She pointed to Alistair, now trying to button his pants. Difficult in his current condition. Leliana smiled at him as he struggled. He turned an even brighter shade of red.
Anora stood from the bed, sheet wrapped around her, and nodded. "Two minutes?"
Nodding to her, Leliana turned back to Alistair, eyebrows raised and smiling sweetly. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about Alistair." She glanced down again. "Really." She closed the door, speaking aloud. "Maybe it's a Grey Warden thing?"
Anora laughed when the door was shut. Alistair started to yell.
Leliana smiled and pointed at a couch. The young man went and sat. He was more than terrified at this point.
A minute later, Alistair came outside. He looked very angry at her, but another glance down below his waist, followed by a knowing smile, sent his anger directly into embarrassment again..
He walked up to her sheepishly then turned to the messenger. "Okay...what have we got?"
The young man stood, saluted, and presented Alistair with two think envelopes, sealed with Aedan's Warden Commander seal.
"I am to wait outside your majesty, in case of reply. It must be this evening however."
Alistair nodded. "Head to the kitchen, have them fix you something alright."
"Thank you your majesty." The man turned and quickly went back down the stairs.
Alistair began to open the larger envelope first. Leliana inched up and looked over his shoulder. She glanced at him, noticing something else right off.
"I told you to use your tongue more, yes."
He stopped and looked at her, now crimson. "I did..."
She stopped him, looking at his face closely. "Not right you didn't."
Anora came outside. "Later...what is it?"
Alistair opened it and started to read. Both women tried to look over his shoulder but he walked away from them. His eyes opened wider the farther down the page he read. Leliana and Anora exchanged worried glances.
He stopped near the fireplace and dropped the letter right into it.
He looked stricken.
Leliana was near on to panic. Anora was worried.
"Alistair..."
He looked up at them. "The fighting goes well. They have that much under control. The Vigil is being fortified and the city is secure. The countryside is still a mess but not as bad as it was. Aedan and Oghren were captured by the darkspawn, along with the Dalish mage and the Howe boy."
Leliana sat down on the nearest couch, her knees suddenly weak. Alistair continued quickly seeing the look on her face.
"They escaped quickly and are fine now. But they ran into another talking darkspawn, calling himself the Architect. He's...different."
Relieved but still upset, Leliana asked. "Different how?"
Alistair looked at them both. "It's best you both don't know I think. Aedan has it under control. He's heading for Knotwood Hills and Kal'Hirol, an old dwarven fortress deep beneath the hills."
"Why down there?"
"Broodmothers."
Anora had heard the term and knew what they were for, but had no idea what one actually was or looked like. Leliana shivered. Remembering in horror.
She clearly recalled both her and Morrigan agreeing, if captured, they were to be killed. Becoming a broodmother was not an option. There was easily nothing else she could have ever thought of that could have been a worse fate.
She put a hand to her head and leaned back on the couch.
She'd been a little torn these last three weeks.
There were two places she felt she needed to be. Ultimately she knew which she had to go to, but everyday things seemed to be getting worse. Privately, she felt things were starting to fall apart.
Again.
"The other letters?"
Alistair opened them, pocketed one that Leliana saw was addressed to Zevran, then pocketed another that clearly was from Oghren to give to Felsi. The other he handed to Leliana and he opened the last, reading it.
Leliana put hers in her pocket for later.
Alistair laughed out loud.
"What?"
"He says to make sure you read his letter now and that I should make you go tomorrow."
She smiled and stood up. "I will. I have too..."
Alistair nodded, curious. But they'd had that discussion. It was just...he did not really believe her like Aedan did. He'd told no one else, even Anora. He wondered if Aedan really believed her.
He trusted Leliana, completely. But there was just something about her these last three weeks since Aedan had left. Something odd...
She sighed and looked at them both. Breaking into a smile, slightly forced, she spoke. "You two should get back to it yes?"
Anora shook her head. Alistair blushed again. Leliana nodded to them both and walked towards the door.
She walked by Alistair and brushed up against him lightly, giving him a sly, slightly seductive look, even licking her kips gently. He broke into a shade of red not previously seen before.
Leliana laughed as she reached the door and turned, mouthing to him silently "Tongue!"
Anora smacked him on the backside. "Come on..."
Shipping Docks District, Denerim
Day 650
Staring out towards the sea, Leliana looked down again at the paper in her hand.
She read it again, easily for the tenth time.
I knew you would not read this in front of Alistair.
So I know you're alone reading this. Things are far worse than I let on. There are many more talking darkspawn, called disciples. They serve this Architect, or in some cases something called the Mother. I have no idea what that is yet. It's like a darkspawn civil war. This Architect is behind it, I know. But I'm not sure how or why yet. The damned thing is terrifying. He's intelligent, very intelligent. And he seems to be using Grey Wardens for their blood. I did not tell Alistair that. He'd come full force and that is not what I need.
I can't be sure how or when, but I know this Architect has had dealing with Grey Wardens before, and not simply in regards to fighting. His interest is calculated and well researched. He has a specific goal as well, related to the blood, only I don't know exactly what yet. Leli, any contact would have had to have been wardens from Orlais, as Ferelden has only had the two of us, and before that Duncan and a few others. This would have come up before, trust me, and it was not in Duncan's records either. At least here in Ferelden.
So I was thinking, since you're so insistent on heading to Orlais, that maybe, perhaps, you might find a little time to maybe pay a visit to the Grey Warden Headquarters in Val Royeaux and take a peak. Quiet like. You'll need help either way, pay someone local or something. Best it not be you, but I'll leave it up to you on how best to proceed, if it's even possible. If it's not, let it go. I'm killing this bastard regardless the next time I see him anyway.
Be careful on who you tell and what you tell them, the fewer the better. Less is more. Also, the more you know, the more danger you will be in, even from the wardens. Remember that. They will kill to preserve secrets. You know a lot, too much really. That's not really a good thing Leli, but I think this is really important.
And I really do have this under control. So don't worry. The new recruits are turning out to be very worthy. Even Oghren. Go figure.
Be safe and send word through Alistair when able. And come back soon.
And what you said to me.
I know too.
Aedan
PS: Destroy the letter...
PPS: No, really. Destroy it...
Folding up the letter she put it inside the breastplate of her armor. She had tried to destroy it, three times. A little voice in the back of her head said otherwise.
For now.
Looking up at the small vessel she was to leave on, she remembered how much she hated traveling by ship.
It would take almost a week to reach Val Royeaux, with a stop in Jader, maybe a little longer. She had time, but was anxious to get going.
"Say hello from me when you get there."
She turned, finding Zevran standing quietly behind her. She was not entirely surprised.
"You're better then you used to be Zev. Much quieter."
"Mmm. Yes. I've been practicing, while you have not."
She nodded. It was true. Her skills, still considerable, were out of practice. She'd been living a life of relative ease over the last six months with Aedan. More so than at any other time in her life.
The best time of my life...
"Yes, I know."
Zevran stood next to her, staring at the small ship. "Ugly thing is it not?"
She sighed. "Yes."
The elf noticed three of the sailors, one was staring at her. They all knew she was to be a passenger.
"Which one do you plan on beating as an example?"
She snorted in derision. "The one who was just staring."
"My choice as well."
She turned and looked at him. "What do you know?"
"Not enough to guess but enough to suspect."
She nodded. "Zev...I'd tell you but..."
The elf placed a hand on her shoulder. "I understand. Some things are only meant to be known later. Some things are not meant to be known at all. We both understand this well."
"Too true." She looked at him, squarely in the eye. "Aedan must never know Zevran. Even suspect."
He nodded. "I think he may suspect, but not like we would. He has always had a way no? Often I thought it was blind luck, now, I'm not so sure."
She laughed lightly. "Yes. Luck."
The ship's captain waved to her. They were ready to leave.
Zevran offered one final thing. "I will not ask where Leliana, but there are old Crow hideouts in nearly every major city in Thedas. If something where to happen, I might be able to get word to one of them. If you wanted to check every other week or so..."
She looked at the elf, sighed and nodded.
"Val Foret."
The elf nodded, thinking quickly. "Every second week then, first day. Val Foret is... south of the main Chantry, main road, first house on the left past the second sewer grate from the Chantry itself. Two stories. Should be empty. Usually is."
"Thank you Zevran." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, making a mental note on the location he'd just spoken of. "Please...watch out for them."
"I will. Hurry back."
She nodded and ran up the plank, onto the ship. A deckhand kicked the plank away and men began to move the ship away from the docks out to sea.
Zevran shook his head and started walking back to the palace. Talking to himself.
"Life was easier as an assassin. Go kill this, go kill that...now...at least it's never dull."
L'école Pour les Chatons Egarés, Val Royeaux
Day 662
Val Royeaux is a majestic city. Filled with anything and everything one could want.
Its market districts, there were eleven, were all huge by Ferelden standards. The goods present were from all over Thedas. Sometimes even from beyond. Anything could be had. If it couldn't, then it could be found.
Walking though the southernmost district, Leliana watched the hundreds of people walking, shopping, scurrying about and yelling at one another over prices, insults and perceived slights.
She shook her head. There was a time when she'd missed this. Loved it. Wanted it.
Not now.
Orlais, when one really thought about it, was a petty country. Val Royeaux, and it's citizenry, exemplified this perfectly.
Sliding artfully through the throngs of people, she reached the far end of the district. Here there were no shops, only larger buildings and a few houses owned by some of the wealthier merchants.
At the end of a wide street, she stopped in front of a larger, marble faced, restored chateau. It was surrounded by a large black fence with no gate. It was not meant to keep anyone out. Or in. Only to give pause to those who might enter. Or leave.
She looked at the converted Chateau, now a school of sorts.
Staring. Studying. Looking for differences.
It had once been home. Of a sort.
Slowly, she made her way up the walkway, gazing at the windows, seeing the one of the fifth floor, on the right corner, that had once been hers.
In another life.
She walked up to the front door and put a hand on it.
Memories flooded back.
Life in Orlais, especially for one such as her, had never been what one would call easy. She was technically a Ferelden, as her mother was. Despite Lady Cecile's sponsorship, after her mother had passed, she had never quite fit in.
Especially here.
She turned the knob and walked inside. Closing the door behind her, she found the entry halls empty. Further in, young girls could be seen, walking to and fro, in one door and out of another.
Voices carried, light music filled the background.
She smiled to herself.
She might not have fit in here, but she had certainly excelled. And when one excels, other matters often tended to not matter as much.
"May I help you?"
She turned and found an elderly lady staring at her intently, studying her. She was quite short with long, grey hair, tied up in a bun. She was clearly once quite beautiful, her clear blue eyes still vibrant and piercing, but was now weighed down by a life of experience. She bore it well.
The old lady broke into a smile. Recognition crossed her face.
"I know you young one, don't I?"
Leliana smiled back. "Yes Mistress Camile. Lady Cecile sent..."
"Yes...Leliana. I remember. My word, it's been what? Almost ten years?"
Leliana nodded. "Yes, nearly."
"Well well. Come in then. Shall I make you some tea?"
"Yes. Please. Some real tea would be wonderful."
The old woman smiled. "Been away then I take it?"
"You could say that." Leliana had no idea how much any in Val Royeaux knew of her, Marjolaine, or what had happened since. She'd decided it might be best to not offer information.
She followed her into a large kitchen. It was beautifully designed, looking very different from what she had been used to of late.
She sat at a small table and watched Mistress Camile make the tea.
She had been the head Mistress here, Orlais' most prominent school for girls with what was always called "the talent", for over three decades. Young girls would be sent here at any age between ten and fifteen, though the younger the better. Here they learned what it meant to be a bard. Taught by the best.
The instructors were the best because, quite simply put, they were all much older and still alive.
Not really a common occurrence in this chosen profession. If you chose to stay of course, and, if they let you leave.
Mistress Camile sat down across from Leliana and handed her a steaming cup. She gingerly put the cup to her lips, smelling the tea before tasting it.
"Oh my. It has been far too long..."
"Yes. Ferelden is not as accommodating is it?"
Leliana slowly sat the cup down on the table. Her hands went flat to the table as well.
Mistress Camile smiled sweetly. "Relax ma chère. Common folk here will not know who you are, but we on the inside surely do. No matter who or what you may have been involved with before, no matter who may have rightly died as a result, no matter what information may have been stolen, or lost. You may rest assured, there is no one here who will lay a hand on you now."
Leliana narrowed her eyes. "And why is that?"
"Aedan Cousland."
Leliana tried, but could not hide her surprise. The old bard laughed heartily at her shock.
"Yes dear girl, we know. We'd like to know more."
"Is he in danger?"
She shook her head. "Of course not! He is a hero girl. No one wants him dead. But all are very curious. In many different ways of course."
"Who is curious, and why?"
"Let's see..." Camile leaned back and sipped her tea. "First, the Empress. She is still unmarried you know. She is also still quite young of course, your age I believe, and beautiful. I have heard, through many reliable sources, that she has been quite taken with his story."
"Fantastic..." Leliana did not like hearing this. "Who else?"
"Nobility of course. They are obsessed with such things. And Cousland is nobility. All of that is rather standard. You know the drill there I'm sure."
Leliana nodded. Orlesian nobles just had to know everything about everyone. The game was Orlesian, but the players extended far beyond Orlais, even if those players, like Aedan, did not even know they were a part of it.
She sipped her tea and waited. Relaxing just a bit as it seemed no one wished him harm.
"And of course there is Raynard de Montfort..."
"I know that name don't I?"
"Yes. He is, or was, a rather prominent noble. His father is still Chevalier Suprême in Montfort, though he is rather elderly now. Raynard was conscripted into the Grey Wardens..."
"Yes... I remember. Did he not rape and murder one of Empress Celene's younger cousins?"
"Yes. Isabel. She was only fifteen. Poor girl. His father used his connections and had Raynard conscripted instead of hanged. It was a rather touchy subject ten years ago. Raynard was sent to Weisshaupt right after, where he was supposed to stay. He returned last year. He was made Commander of the Grey shortly after."
"You must be kidding?"
"No ma chère. I am not. There are...tensions between the wardens and the Empress now. She refuses to deal with him."
"Rightly so. I recall the stories."
"Most agree. Celene's father would have executed him, regardless of his status, if he were still alive. But the Empress does not have quite the sway her father had."
"Why is he interested in Aedan."
"Honestly, I do not know much. He contracted a group out of Jader to gather as much information on him as possible soon after word had reached Orlais of the Blight's end. But only information. Habits, tendencies, family, places he has been." She looked at Leliana. "Lovers..."
Leliana eyed the old bard. On the surface it seemed harmless of course. Raynard was Orlesian, and despite being a Grey Warden, old habits probably died hard. And there was much interest in Aedan's survival. They both had known that was coming.
But something about the way Camile said lovers caused her to slightly panic.
"Why lovers?"
"Well, young Cousland had quite a reputation at one time I hear. Aside from that..." She shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, you would be counted among that group."
Leliana nodded. She did not see the point in denying anything at this point. But she would have to be more careful going forward from here.
"Any others?"
"No one of consequence. Storytellers requesting information, things of that sort."
Leliana nodded. "And what of you? Have you become involved?"
Camile may be the Head Mistress now, but she still had active bards in her employ. All of them did. Leliana knew this well.
"No ma chère. I really am retired. For the most part at least. I...dabble here and there of course. But only if the target is if interest. Coin no longer matters. I must be moved I suppose you would say. Challenged."
Leliana smiled at her but her eyes grew cold. Intentionally.
"Well then. If I were to give you a target then. An impossible one. Would you perhaps have an interest? Though I must warn you. Once told, it must be accepted..."
She placed a dagger quietly on the table. Her eyes bore into the old bard.
Mistress Camile smiled, sipping the last of her tea, eyeing the dagger. Her eyes danced, intelligent and fiery. Leliana got the distinct impression her offer was perhaps the first such in years.
"They never just stop in to say hello, do they dear?"
Leliana remained silent. Camile nodded.
"Tell me then child."
Le Chercheur D'asile
Day 685
Leliana dropped down from perch, high atop a tree. It had been built by a child, long ago, for watching the birds as they flew low over the water, diving in as they fished.
She had been on that perch for almost an entire day. Looking. Listening.
It was dark now, pitch black. There was no moon this night.
This was no accident.
Satisfied, she moved rapidly down a winding path following close to the shoreline.
She had stayed in Val Royeaux for nearly two weeks. Leaving Mistress Camile, she had made her way to what was now called Noble's Alley. It was a long, winding road on the western outskirts of the city where most of the more prominent nobles lived.
Once there, despite the stares, and a few rude comments, she visited what was once home.
It was of course occupied by another now. Lady Cecile had no family. Her husband had been killed young in Ferelden, during the wars. She had no children. Her sister had died as a small child and a brother was killed in a brothel at seventeen.
In some small way, Leliana had been family. Though it was never really discussed. Cecile had done well by her though. She owed her much.
She had waited there, at the house, for darkness to fall. She had snuck onto the grounds after and visited the small, unassuming family plot at the rear of the property. She was pleased to see the current occupants had tended to it after these last twelve years.
She had knelt by the marker, the chantry forbade burial, but it was common to place the ashes in a marker of some sort, in remembrance, and offered a prayer.
After, walking away, she had realized it was the first prayer she had uttered in many months. Since laying beside Aedan as she wondered if he would survive, despite the lengths traversed to ensure just that.
Part of her was ashamed it had been so long. Part of her still felt she owed the Chantry much. But she realized she was a different person now. Too much had happened. Despite it all, she was much closer to the young, often impulsive and brash bard she once was. The girl hiding in the chantry, beaten and broken, was gone now. Long gone.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present, she spied a large grouping of rocks near the shore and darted between them. She set her eyes all along the waterline, looking for movement, fires, smoke. Anything. None was found.
She again began moving.
After paying respects, she had set in motion a few additional information gathering ventures regarding the tasks Anora had given her. By the end of the first week she had established something of a small network of new contacts. Shop owners, a few old friends, a few street children she had paid very well.
It was an old story. One she knew well.
By the end of the next month she knew she would have most, if not all, of what she needed for Anora.
Camile's task was different.
The old bard had been thoroughly shocked when she'd requested information of the Grey Wardens. Her being the lover of one, a Commander of the Grey at that, had given the old bard the impression such things would have already been known.
The information on the individual wardens themselves would be easy to come by. The information on their activities more difficult, but not impossible. The information on any strange occurrences, even historical, was confusing to Camile. She was not sure how to proceed there.
Leliana was not comfortable telling her anymore. Instead instructing her that if found, one would know it.
The old bard had agreed of course. She had not directed something like this in years. It would be exciting. And no one would expect it from her sources. They'd been inactive for many years.
And the target was indeed worthy of a challenge. The wardens had not been targeted in over a decade. Much could perhaps be learned.
Camile had been very intrigued.
She had not even asked for payment. Instead, she had only requested a meeting with Aedan at some point. Leliana had smiled and said it could be arranged.
Of course if things went wrong, on any level, Camile, and her entire network involved would have to be killed. But the old bard knew this. It was simply implied. Normal.
So after getting all the ingredients ready, so to speak, she had set them aflame to cook and quietly left the city.
She took her time, traveling slowly to Val Foret. Backtracking on her path often, switching between days and nights. Alternating between paths, roads and sticking to countryside or forests.
It bothered her greatly that Aedan had attracted so much attention, though it was not entirely unexpected. But it really bothered her that she had attracted attention as well.
Being followed was a very real option. One that she could not afford. So she was careful. Very careful.
A normal day's trip had taken three. In the city, she hid until night and entered the old Crow hideout Zevran had spoken of.
A letter was there from the elf, dated six days ago.
He was brief and bland, as expected. One did not put important things in letters left unguarded. One could put important things in between the lines however. Thankfully, this was not the case.
Leliana,
All is well, considering. Aedan was again in the fade it seems but got out. Naturally. He has two new wardens with him, making six total. A young dwarf named Sigrun, a female Legionnaire scout I hear. She sounds...interesting. The second is apparently a Fade Spirit inhabiting a corpse of a Grey Warden...
Right about now you are thinking what the hells is that? So am I. He is called Justice. The fighting actually goes well. Aedan seems to have it under control, though he seems to be losing his temper a bit of late. The nobles in Amaranthine seem to be rather needy and not prone to helping matters.
Aedan threatened to kill every one of them rather violently I hear. They will probably try to kill him now. I have taken steps, not to worry.
The castle is quiet, aside from Alistair now that he has discovered sex. The rest is unimportant. I shall send another as we discussed, sooner if needed, as things seem to be coming to a head in Amaranthine.
Worry not, all is well.
Zev
She had felt much better after reading that, despite Aedan threatening to kill all the nobles in the district. Besides, Anora already wished to remove him from the Arl position. It would most certainly happen now. A part of her thought that maybe he had done so deliberately for just that reason.
Zevran was not one to sugarcoat anything. If something was wrong, he would have said so, covertly of course. She did not write back with any detail. Instead she had dropped a note in a letter that simply told the elf that matters were progressing and being handled. No issues were present and none were foreseen at this point.
He would know what she meant without really knowing what she was doing that way.
She expected Zevran would have the house checked, probably every day.
So she had left Val Foret, a week ago.
It did not take a week to get to where she was. Barely a full day really. But she had taken an alternate route, doubled around numerous times, hidden for a time, traveled at night, then the day, then by water in a stolen boat, then she had waited.
She could find no one following her, and if they were, they were the best she had ever seen. Or never in this case.
Finally satisfied, she turned sharply in towards the roads and through the forests, following familiar paths.
An hour later she arrived at her destination.
A tinge of worry hit her as there was no smoke coming from the chimneys. It was cold here now. The dead of winter was coming in a few weeks.
Slowly, deliberately, she approached a large set of doors and examined the locks. They were locked and had not been busted or picked. She made a quick circuit of the house and noticed nothing of interest really, save the lower level windows now being blocked off.
Her worry decreased. Her nervousness went through the roof.
She ended up back at the front door, again. She waited, calming herself.
Reaching around her neck, she took off her amulet, Seeker's Circle. She knelt down by the door and slid the amulet through the crack at the bottom. She heard it skid across the floor a few feet and stop.
She stood and banged on the door.
Quickly she moved down the stairs, drawing a dagger.
She waited, just out of sight.
Fully ten minutes later she was starting to worry again. Suddenly the door cracked ever so slightly.
Another pendant came sliding out, hitting the edge of the stairs. She picked it up, studying it. It was identical to hers, aside from one small notch on the back. Put there on purpose, by her.
She slid the dagger back into the sheath and came out into the open. It was still dark but some light could now be seen coming from the door frame as the door itself slid back, allowing entry.
She walked slowly towards the door and entered the house as calmly as she could.
" 'Tis about time."
A/N: Translations for the Orlesian locations:
L'école Pour les Chatons Egarés (The School for Wayward Kittens)
Le Chercheur D'asile (The Seeker's Asylum)
If these are wrong, apologies, let me know and I'll change them. French is not a specialty of mine.
The next chapter is proving a little difficult as I work though the nature of the relationship between our two women, which is beyond complicated here. I've started and restarted it three times so far.