Note: Wondering about Elissa and Leliana's 'conversation by the lake'? Check out my fic Challenges to see what transpired.
Also apologies in advance to Alistair fans, I love him too, but I have to be true to Elissa's character, so…
Finally, special thanks to Raven Sinead for her valued input, as always.
It is a relief when Elissa finally calls a halt. We have covered a lot of ground, considering the constant darkspawn attacks, and my back and shoulders are more than ready for respite. I cast off my bow and quiver, my aching muscles singing as I collapse against a nearby boulder. My cheeks are flush, and not only from my exertions. Travelling at such pace was once as easy as drawing breath, yet now I can barely keep up. It seems the years in the Chantry have softened my edges, and it will take some time to build my endurance again.
My eyes close for a moment, relishing the stillness. The others set about their routine, and my ears pick up their gestures. Alistair whistles to himself, rustling branches to build a fire, while Sten grunts, emptying his pack. Duke barks, his collar jingling as someone—probably Morrigan—yanks him from the food supplies, and Wynne, our newest companion, lets out a delightful laugh. She has made a fine addition, and her healing prowess has already spared me several injuries. I can only hope that…
A twig snaps, followed by an awkward stumble. Alistair calls out, and my eyes snap open. Elissa is in his arms, her hazel eyes weary, her posture slumped. She looks like she will pass out at any second. Alistair offers to help her sit, but she shakes her head and pushes him away. Alone, she takes her water flask and walks to the tree-lined stream at the edge of camp. Every step is weighed with exhaustion, and I bow my head, ashamed at my own 'fatigue'. She had been on watch the night before, and fought more than her fair share of darkspawn throughout the day. She has been pushing herself too far, yet as usual would prefer to keep her troubles to herself.
My brow creases. I had thought after our conversation by the lake, she would have started to open up a little, but it seems she remains reluctant to lower her shields.
If only there were some way I could reach her…
"Care to pull your own weight this eve, O Exalted Sister? Or do you plan to let your servants do your bidding?"
Morrigan's disdainful voice carries through the air, and I frown.
"I did not ask anyone to tend my needs," I answer, rising to my feet. "But since taking a moment of rest seems to displease you, I will try not to offend further."
Morrigan scoffs, retreating to her own encampment. My fist clenches, but I let the anger ebb away. She has proven…challenging to work with, for certain. I still cannot understand why Elissa shows her such respect, alas there is much our Warden keeps concealed. What I do know, however, is that Elissa's judgements have always seemed fair, so I expect this to be no different. Even if I do not see it myself.
I reclaim my weapons, stepping towards the fire. Alistair has done a sound job, and I sit beside him, helping stoke the flames. He nods, making for the food stock, and I rest back on my hands. The flickering warmth is soothing, and my eyes fall to the horizon. The skies are clear, and the distant tower of Kinloch Hold stands out beneath the newly risen moon. It sends a shiver through me, and I glance aside, the blood-stained walls and scent of burnt magic still too fresh.
My fingers claw at the dirt, and I swallow the horror away before it takes hold. It is a gesture I perform with practiced ease, although it was not long ago such panic would infect my entire being. When I had newly entered Lothering, my mind trapped, my heart shattered, and with only a whisper of faith to fight the choke-hold of the past that never wanted to let go.
A breath escapes me, and I return my attention to the flames. They flicker and crackle, clinging to life by the barest of means. And so had it been the same with me. It took many quiet hours in the cloisters to master my terror, yet by the grace of the Maker, I finally ventured beyond its reach. Now it cannot harm me, and never will I let anything else strike so deeply again.
I suppose that is the only thing I will ever thank her for…
A wet snout brushes my leg, and I blink. Duke whines, sniffing around my pouches. I chuckle, fishing for the meat strips that he knows I carry. I offer one to him, and he slobbers my palm, his tail wagging. A wry smile creases my lips, and I scratch him between his ears. Even my Orlesian heritage cannot eclipse my Ferelden blood. Mabaris are wondrous animals, and despite their savagery in combat, they have truly gentle souls. Duke is no exception, and I have come to admire his ever curious and loyal personality.
Much like his mistress…
I scan the camp again, finding Elissa nearby. She sits on her bedroll, Wynne beside her. The mage checks her over, finding but a few scrapes to heal. She attempts to make conversation, to which Elissa merely nods and murmurs. Finally Wynne gives her a tonic, then retreats to her tent.
Elissa sighs. She absently plays with the vial between her fingers, lifting her eyes to the Circle tower. The weariness in her gaze deepens, and a tug pulls at my heart. It takes no fortune-teller to know what is on her mind. Those battles wore thin on all of us, and it was Elissa who had been thrown into the worst of it. Maker knew what Fade nightmares she faced to set us free, and then to have to continue and fight Uldred without pause…I shake my head. It is a wonder she had not collapsed sooner.
My legs twitch, wanting to stride over and offer a patient ear, but I resist the urge. Elissa has already brushed off such concerns, and I have not the skill to coax them out. Not yet, at least. Alas, it still leaves me tense. There is only so much one can keep inside, and though for Elissa it is a well-honed art, even she might come to break beneath the strain…
"Hey, Leliana, can you do me a favour?"
Alistair's voice snaps me back, and I turn to him. He has already set up the dinner pot, and he gestures to the rabbit meat we purchased earlier.
"Mind looking after the stew tonight?" He rubs the back of his neck. "There's…I've got something to take care of. You don't mind?"
"Of course not," I answer, though I cannot stop my brow rising. It is unusual he would shy from meal duty, but a blush colours his cheeks, and his smile is nervous, less confident. Whatever he is planning, it has taken him a while to find the courage to go through with it.
"Thanks." He shuffles to his feet, stealing a wayward glance at Elissa. Suddenly all becomes clear, and I blink. I should be amused—endeared, really—but I cannot help the sudden foreboding in my chest. Elissa did not respond well the last time we attempted to cheer her, and I am certain Alistair's ploy will more than likely go the same way.
Yet I do not reach to stop him as he crosses the fireside to join her. In truth, it is not my place, and I have all reason to be wrong, too. He has known Elissa longer, and they have shared more hardship together, too. And Elissa does treat him fondly, when she is able to rise above overshadowing despair. As much as it hurts my pride, if anyone could brighten her spirits, it would be him.
But I wonder…
"Do you need help, Leliana?" Wynne's hand comes to my shoulder. "It cannot be much fun being left to the menial tasks."
I smile. She is so very motherly, and reminds me a little of Lady Cecilie, Maker bless her soul.
"That's very kind, Wynne, but I will be fine." I shift aside to let her sit. "It is not often Alistair leaves me to my own devices for cooking. I intend to take advantage."
Wynne laughs. "I would not be in disagreement to something slightly more flavourful, either." A spark catches her eye, and she sits straighter. "Oh, how forgetful of me. I have some herbs in my belongings, I meant to bring them along. Give me a moment."
She makes to stand, but I shake my head.
"Please, allow me. It has been a long day for you, too. Where might I find them?"
"There is a leather pouch beside my pack in my tent," Wynne informs. "You will probably smell them before you see them, they should not be difficult to find. And thank you."
Nodding, I leave the fire, heading for her makeshift quarters. Not quite deliberately, my steps take a longer path, bringing me closer to Elissa and Alistair. They have moved further downstream, shielded by drooping woodland branches. Still, their voices carry clear, and my curiosity overwhelms me. Carefully I slip closer, hidden between the trees, and my eyes widen.
Alistair is carrying a rose, but it is not just any flower. It is the crimson bloom that flourished on that dead shrub in the Lothering Chantry. I would recognise it anywhere. Part of me snarls that he had carelessly plucked it, but I swiftly quash the bitterness. It is not as if I claim ownership of it, and besides, it would have perished with the rest of the village once the darkspawn took over.
Even so…
"I hope this isn't too sudden." Alistair coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "But things have been more dangerous recently, I don't know if I'll get a chance like this again." He clears his throat, and twirls the rose between his thumb and index finger. "I found this in Lothering. It just…well, it stirred something. Made me wonder how something so beautiful could still flourish in so much darkness, you know?" He takes a breath, and offers it to Elissa. "Reminded me a lot of you, actually. So…I thought it might be nice to give to you. Just to show…how much I appreciate all you've done. And what you mean to me."
Elissa remains silent. She is staring at the rose, but her reaction is anything what I expect. Her eyes widen, her jaw clenches, and a tremor ripples through her. She licks her lips, drawing her arms around herself, and shifts her weight to her back foot. My brows rise. This is not just mere embarrassment.
She's scared.
Alistair, however, remains oblivious. He leans a little closer, and Elissa holds herself rigid. It is almost painful to watch. Every part of her wants to run, but decorum is just enough to keep her in place. Maker, I have never seen anyone look so uncomfortable.
But why, Elissa?
"Lost for words, huh?" Alistair asks, tilting his head.
Elissa sighs, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
"Alistair." Her voice is slightly hoarse, and she swallows. "I'm…look, I'm really flattered you'd…it's a very kind gesture…but…I…"
She hesitates, and Alistair's face falls.
"Oh." He draws the rose to his chest, as the penny finally drops. "It wasn't…it doesn't have to mean anything like that." His eyes betray his words, however, and they overflow with hurt. It is not lost on Elissa, and she bites back a wince. "You've been suffering the worst of it lately, I just wanted to try and ease that."
"I…I know." A short struggle plays within, and her shoulders sag. "I…thank you, Alistair. I appreciate you thinking of me."
Alistair's face brightens, and he hands over the rose. Elissa takes it, but it does little to change her stance. She is doing this out of courtesy, not want.
"You deserve so much more than this," Alistair murmurs. "I hope it'll do for now, until I find something more worthy of your attention."
There is a suggestiveness to his tone, and Elissa bristles.
"There's no need." Her soft-spoken voice carries a new edge. "Not now, not ever."
She mutters the latter, but not quietly enough. A scowl crosses Alistair's features.
"Ouch." He averts his gaze, and starts to fiddle with his gauntlet. "You don't have to be so blunt, you know."
Elissa's fist clenches, and she looks away. I cannot tell if I am imagining the glisten on her cheek.
"…then I'm sorry I can't be what you want."
Before further words can spill, she turns and walks away. Alistair remains frozen, the breeze teasing his hair. Slowly, he wakes from the shock of stupor, and lets out a long, long sigh. Rubbing his chest, he makes back towards camp, and I edge aside so he does not catch me. My heart fills with pity, and I shake my head. Such pain will sting for some time, and I can only imagine what this will do to their bond in the coming days.
But more than that, I cannot fathom why Elissa reacted so. There was nothing threatening about Alistair's gesture, and not a few hours earlier she had been laughing at his playful snipes. Much as she loved her frosted walls, there had always been warmth between them, and had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed she would show such coldness to him.
And just when I thought I was starting to understand her better…
Suddenly a shaking gasp catches my ear, and I glance back to the trees. Only the shadows greet me, and my pulse skips a beat. Surely Elissa could not have wandered so far so quickly. Then it comes again, and my breath catches. What if she's hurt, or fainted again?
I break into a jog, scanning the branches. Thankfully it is not long before I spot her, and my chest floods with relief. Elissa is curled beneath a barren trunk, but even so, she is not in a good way. Her head rests in her arms, her body trembling. Every breath is ragged and choked, as if she cannot get enough air in. Immediately my gaze softens, and I rush to her side.
"Elissa!" I grasp her shoulder, and she tenses further. "It's only me."
Elissa cannot speak, too flustered by her breathing. I drop to my knees, stroking her arm.
"Slowly, slowly," I soothe. "Let the air release, then inhale…"
It takes a few moments, but Elissa starts to follow my instruction. She forces herself to breathe out, and I count with her, gradually calming her frantic gasps, as the Revered Mother did for me when I had been in similar throes. It is ironic I am in her place, when at the time I never would have thought such a thing possible.
Eventually Elissa regains herself. She tilts her head back, no longer suffocating, and presses a hand to her chest.
"Sorry." She continues to gaze skywards, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to meet my eyes. "You shouldn't...shouldn't have had to see that."
My face tightens, recalling her fearful stance, every muscle held tight as though Alistair had approached her with a blade. Rarely have I seen her reveal her emotions, but even she cannot conceal everything. Perhaps she did not believe any part of her could betray such.
"It is of no consequence to me." I answer. "I'm sorry to have intruded. But I shall not breathe a word to anyone. Of that I promise."
Elissa holds her temple, deliberating, the soft trickle of the stream the only disturbance.
"It was nothing to get so worked up over, anyway," she mutters at last.
Her response brings no surprise. Of course she would not want to discuss this further. But something in her eyes gives a little, and it emboldens me.
"Forgive me, Elissa, but I must speak the truth. I saw everything that transpired between you and Alistair." I pause, studying her reaction. "When he offered that rose, you looked like you were about to bolt. I have never seen you so frightened."
Her eyes narrow, and she angles herself away, arms still crossed. However, she makes no move to chide me for eavesdropping.
"I didn't want to hurt him. I had no choice," she states. "Let's return to camp and be done with it."
She rises and I stagger to my feet, quick to block her.
"Elissa, there is no shame in being afraid." My voice is gentle. "But there is also no shame in allowing others to care about you, to lend you their strength. You do yourself no favours by bottling everything inside."
My words are not my own—a borrowed wisdom—yet the truth of it holds a worth that cannot be measured. It was not easy to adopt, and I prolonged my suffering because of it. I can only pray Elissa will not make the same choice, and be spared my folly.
"Did Alistair's gesture truly hurt that much?"
Elissa flinches, but says nothing. Instead her eyes become downcast, and she bows her head, her raven hair streaming across her chest.
"And if it did?"
I sigh, her response an echo of that night beside the lake.
"Then my concern remains." I stand tall, facing her directly. "Those wounds will not heal so long as the weight of your burdens smothers them. I can take some of them for you, were you to let me."
Elissa's fist clenches.
"Sharing what dwells inside does nothing to resolve it." Her tone is bitter. "It only drags past into present, leaving a mire that traps more than it needs to. These burdens, these feelings, they're mine, and they're nobody's business but my own. I don't need to share them. Not to Alistair, not to anyone." The last word is a stone, flung with force to scathe.
"So you would go as far as to deny them entirely?" I ask.
Elissa snaps her head up, her hazel eyes burning.
"They are nothing but a useless distraction!" she growls. "I've been through enough of that agony, and I don't care! He wants more than I can give and I won't!" She draws another breath. It hitches in her lungs, her resolve less certain. "There's...There's too much at stake, and I'm barely keeping it together as it is. I just...I just can't." She shakes her head. "If I am to carry the kingdom against the Blight, I can't afford to feel. I'm not strong enough."
Her voice is quivering, and I lick my lips. She is not entirely convinced by her own words.
Perhaps…
"That is not what I am asking, Elissa," I answer. "But can you not see already how speaking your mind has allowed your shoulders to ease, your breaths calm, your jaw relax? Would you deny that you do not feel better for sharing these grievances with me?"
Elissa's eyes widen slightly, and she purses her lips.
"Your feelings are not something to be afraid of," I continue. "They are the Maker's greatest gift, and they will lend you the strength you think you lack. No matter what pain might come with them. You have to believe me."
Elissa turns her back to me. I remain in place, waiting. It is up to her, now. I can do no more.
"I can't...I just can't." She speaks barely above a whisper. "It still hurts too much."
"Acknowledging your pain does not make you weak, Elissa," I assure. "Quite the opposite, in fact. You are stronger for it. Strong enough to have brought us this far. Strong enough to take us further. I have faith in you."
"Even after what I just did?"
"Yes."
A lingering quiet descends, as my words slowly sink in. Eventually Elissa raises her head, and our eyes meet once more. Something in her gaze has changed, however.
"I can only hope you're right." A heavy breath escapes. "Thank you, Leliana. And I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," I console. "I am here for you, always, should you need me."
Elissa manages a nod. "Yes." I sense more words on her lips, but she hesitates, deciding to let them fall. "We…We should return, before we are missed."
She sets off, and I follow. But the silence no longer feels awkward, and the tiniest of smiles flickers across my lips. It might have only been a single step, but I had convinced Elissa to consider another path.
And if it would spare her the pain she so feared, then everything that had brought me to this moment would have been worth it.