Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.

Summary: A City-Elf/Bann Teagan collection of drabbles and one-shots based on a prompt table from an LJ-community. These will be more or less in chronological order with the faintest traces of added plot here and there. Will vary from drabble length to one-shot.

Author's note: So! Why the amount of updates? Vacation coming and I won't update for a while. I wanted to, at least, post this one before I vanish to places where beach and sun is all which exists and net is a miracle :) Important: this one is based partially on the DLC Leliana's song. Quick summary, Leliana was betrayed in Denerim, in the palace of Arl. Also to be considered is that she was kept prisoner there and tortured. Tug - her friend - was killed by the Commander's orders. Pretty much all there is to know. Good vacation, you all and I hope you like this one. I honestly enjoyed writing it.

In this chapter: Running away from memories doesn't make them disappear.

018.

"Who are you taking?"

"Wynne. Sten. Leliana."

"Not Alistair?"

"I'm stupid enough to enter a trap, not to drag the heir of the throne with me."

"Maybe take more powerful members then? Shale?"

"If you know anything else than can draw more attention than a golem who goes around calling people 'it', I'm all ears."

Leliana agrees with Sten nowadays. She knows this is needed, understands the reasoning behind the requests done but it looks like the Warden – and the entire party by association – is being sidetracked to Orlais on her way to the Archdemon. The path seems neverending and it's beginning to take its toll. Some hardly sleep, comrades whisper of nightmares which neither her leader nor Alistair seem inclined to explain. In the little time they have free, they spend near each other, basking in the slight protection and the presence of whatever weapons which happen to be nearby. Tasha, well, that one leaves at times only to pace near the gate that leads to Alienage. If the guard didn't dislike her so much, they'd be on speaking terms already.

It is all very annoying.

"Why aren't…"

"Others being sent? You tell me. Alas, I am the current do it all of the court. Warden, elf, servant, all the same thing."

"He trusts you. I trust you."

"At this point I'd prefer not to be trusted this much. It's becoming slightly hard to evade all the knives on my back."

Nevertheless, she doesn't need to think twice when Tasha asks her to accompany the small party. She tries to ask, even though they all know it's a nicely disguised order. The personal touch to it is just a small bonus. Not that Leliana wants to go. The palace brings too many memories to her mind and none of them are pleasant, hardly even decent. She remembers windows and laughter, a beautiful room, passing through guards like shadows – shackles on her hands and cold laughter in her ears.

The bard doesn't want to go, tapping fingers against her armor in silent rhythm, waiting for the preparations to be finished. She doesn't want to go but says nothing because Tasha is cleaning her blade, eyes unfocussed and lost somewhere. The blade is already clean and has been for the past twenty minutes. No one says anything and especially not her who keeps tapping away.

Anyone can see the elf doesn't want to go anywhere either but there is really no other choice. And so they leave.

"Why are you so bothered?"

"The Blight rages outside and I'm searching for royals."

"You're lying."

"Which part? Blight or royal? Because darkspawn knocking at the gates beg to differ and I have this Orlesian elf around whose accent makes my blood shudder."

"What you do not say is more important."

The Palace of the Arl has changed little over the last years. The security is just as ridiculous as she remembers too. Some guards here, some guards there, a lot of servants and still none notices the addition to the staff in form of a huge Qunari and a feeble looking old woman. Springy chicken, she is not. Might as well thank the Maker for small miracles while she can. Soon enough, they are crossing the entrance and she's on the one place where she doesn't wish to be, where no miracles can aid her. Leliana knows this door, knows the wood, knows the stonework, knows the hallway.

There's the slight urge to flee, danger and warning flowing through her veins instead of her blood, chilling and horrifying. The handmaiden's accent clearly does not help.

A hand touches her elbow, light and fleeting, disappearing the next moment as Tasha walks forward and engages the closed door.

"This is needed."

"Yes."

"I must do it."

"It seems there is no other choice."

"Then what I don't say clearly doesn't matter. Has to be done anyway."

The Warden takes the lead as they run through the palace. It's odd. Leliana knows the way, she can walk through those halls with her eyes closed because that night is still branded on her memory. Branded on her very bones and on the scars above her stomach. But Tasha walks as if she knows the path just as well. She doesn't care to wait for the maid's explanation, doesn't even pause when choosing whether to turn right or left. She just runs ahead, metal covered feet clacking noisily with each step, one blade trembling slightly in her wake. Leliana can almost wonder if she ever worked in the Palace before.

That question lasts until the small party enters the room, the main room, and the elf stops. Just stops. Like there is nothing else to do and no one to find, she freezes in its middle, the most puzzling expression on her face. It seems a little like betrayal and remorse, too much like loathing – of herself or another, the bard cannot be sure.

"Hm." Nothing but a soft sound. "They cleaned the blood well. Carpet seems new."

Tasha leaves before anyone can try to comment.

"I could go instead."

Laughter. Amused, dry, fake laughter. "No. No, you can't. Your brother would kill us both."

"So it is better to leave you to danger?"

"We're old friends. It's learning to attack from the front lately."

The dungeon makes everything even worse. She's trembling herself as soon as they enter it, her breathing harsh and pained. Bards don't stay in the same place for long. When there is danger, they know it, they recognize it, they run. Her bow keeps failing faintly in her hands and she knows – oh she just knows – the years in Lothering didn't erase memories. You can't erase memories. You can only confront them and expect the pain to ease with time. Marjolaine might lay dead with the Commander by her side but, in her memories, they both live and she can feel the blunt edge of the dagger on her flesh.

It hurts all over again.

"Leliana. Leliana, I need you to focus." Tasha kneels by her side as she struggles with a lock. "I don't know why you're like this but I need you to focus. I need it."

Her hand is also shaking when it grips her wrist and the need in her voice means even more than her words do. Both of them are walking on the edge of a blade, the edge of sanity and about to fall apart. She is a brick and Tasha is the house, her words mean. Without her, she'll fall apart. Is it pretentious to think this?

Despair in blue eyes says it is not and Leliana suddenly feels like she's a house too.

"When?"

"Half an hour, perhaps? The situation is truly dire. Or will be. Likely both."

"Take the Golem. If it's already dire, who will notice?"

"A giant walking boulder?"

"Howe's guards have the tendency to be chosen among the stupidest men of Denerim. You never know."

The battle is too difficult. They have only arrived two days before and their bodies have still to catch up. Even the Warden shows signs of fatigue though Leliana swears it's not just that. There is more weighting the elf's blade. Tasha is not herself in that place just as she is little more than the woman who crossed that same place years before, a hand on a bleeding flesh, a borrowed sword in her hand. They struggle with more than their enemy. They struggle with their past.

"Finally." Howe falls to their feet, cursing their names with his last breath, the cursed disgusting man. "Arl's son. Now an Arl. Guess the regent is next? Maker, Alistair is in trouble if I keep going." Hysteria. The ghosts are wining.

"Tasha?" Wynne frowns deeply, all of her open concern and obvious confusion. She tries reaching out but the Warden evades as if any and all touch are forbidden. As if her life hangs on keeping her distance. Her sanity does, at least.

"I'm fine."

She's not. She's lying. Leliana can tell.

Laughter. A little truthful this time. "I don't think I can trust them to be that stupid."

"One never knows. We are human."

"Blind and oblivious."

"It must not be good to have no wish to contradict you."

"It would not work."

"I know."

"Wise, my Lord."

Antiva has a long tradition of royal betrayals being on the order of the day. Ferelden, however, seems to thrive more on honor than anything else. This royal missed that lesson because the way she accuses them – the warden – is truly worthy of any antivian bastard. She'd make a good bard, Leliana considers before drowning the thought underneath both anger and disgust. Despicable, self-serving, dishonorable woman, Marjolaine incarnate if the other had not died merely weeks before.

"You double-crossing bitch." Tasha utters those words loudly enough and then loses them in a bout of laughter. "Humans. I think I can expect a blow from the front, they go through the back. Truly amazing."

There's a movement by her side, slow, Sten moving as if to place himself near the brunt of a future battle but the elf is there and her hands are raising, her blade falling to the floor in surrender. Surrender. This is not right. This is all wrong.

"Tasha? What are you…?"

Her eyes say one thing, her lips smile, she doesn't look frantic anymore so Leliana is for her. They defeated a whole Palace, this is just one more group of soldiers, it is not that hard to do, is it? They cannot give in because the Commander will kill them. Everyone will die just like Tug, she has to know that.

A hand touches her arm once more, grips lightly and slips away, her path cleared of more blood and death for once. "Trust me." The whisper says. "You need out and I keep my promises. I always keep my promises. Go home." The past shackles them both and the memories attached to that place refuse to leave. But Leliana looks at Tasha, Tasha looks at Leliana and they both nod, agree, want to leave. That place cannot hold them prisoner if they are not there. They can fight if they are not there. They want out.

And so they leave.

"Return unharmed."

"That is a hard promise to keep."

"Then simply return."

"The Warden?" Teagan is the first person she sees when they enter the Estate, running as if the demons are at their heels, pushing the Queen with them without the slightest touch of care. And Leliana wants to keep running – Eamon will know what to do, how to save her, where to go – and yet stops because his voice sounds worried – almost frantic or does she read too much into it?

The hand gripping her wrist says she is not.

"She's fine," Leliana hears herself say. Tasha is not there, she is not fine but if she were, if she was right by the bard's side, she'd lie too. So Leliana lies in her stead.

He seems to know.

Note: Prompt 017 (Ghost) from Troyed community table of prompts.