Leliana

I walked through Haven, refusing to let my gaze leave the main road. I did not look at the graves we had dug not two nights ago. I did not see the quiet place where I had stolen a moment with my beloved.

I see nothing, I forced myself to believe. I am blind to this, to all of it...as she was blind to me. As she fought for me and let me fight...without her eyes to trust that I would be all right, with nothing but intuition to face her enemy. I have never known a soul so strong as hers. This world will never see its like again.

"Stop it, Leliana." I chided myself, falling back into habits from days gone by.

I had shouted at myself the entire way through my escape of the dungeons of Val Royeaux. I had carried on intense conversations and arguments on my journey to Ferelden. And now, now I spoke to myself to keep my thoughts silent, to keep myself from remembering that every step taken poured acid over my heart.

Alistair's words had flayed me with truth, a truth I wanted to deny but was powerless against. I did what I had ever done when faced with such things. I had turned my back and fled.

Maker, I prayed, I want to believe that you sent me that vision. I want to believe that you have not forsaken this world. But...but it must not be true. Were it so, surely you would have prevented this. You would have kept us both, your sword and your oracle, from pain.

I stopped on the outskirts of Haven, catching my breath. I inhaled, deep, and shook the dust of the town from my boots. I spat on the ground, cursing the town in Orlesian.

"May these homes know no love, this ground no growth, and their dead no peace."

Forgive me, Maker, but I can find no place in my heart for this...this hell, even if it is the resting place of your Bride.

I took to the woods and shed my leather armor, exchanging it for my Chantry robes. Few, even the most depraved, would assault a lay sister. I examined the robes before I put them on, remembering when Marjolaine had forced me to masquerade as a sister of the chantry, in robes like these, and seduce a hapless noble with a taste for...ravaging virgin flesh. It had been an impossible ruse and I was beaten near to death when he discovered I was not what I claimed. But it did not matter. By that time, Marjolaine had acquired enough evidence to sate our client and damn him forever.

She even had the gall to nurse me back to health, my mind crept into dark places as I dressed. Cleaning my cuts, salving my bruises, cooling my fever, and praising me for a task well done. And I basked in the glory of her approval...even though...a long-quiet fury sparked behind my eyes...even though she let him rape me as she assembled her key witnesses. Salem would burn alive anyone who dared lay a hand on me, if I did not wish them to do so. She protected me...she let me go...to protect me.

I abandoned the forests for the main road, keeping my wary hand on the hilt of my dagger. Before I knew it, I was running away from Haven, from my memories, from Salem's sightless eyes and gentle touch. I did not know how long I ran until I paused and gazed at the moon in the apex of the sky.

I caught my breath, feeling my lungs burn. I smelled smoke and sought out its source. A small fire highlighted the silhouette of a wagon and horses. An odd place to see travelers. I thought. The road to Haven had been deserted during our journey here. We had encountered nothing but animals and roving packs of darkspawn.

Darkspawn do not build fires. I inched closer, listening.

"I tell you, we should never have taken that road." a woman's voice, very unhappy. "We are lost, Aaron. Days have gone by, and we have seen no travelers. This does not bode well."

"I am not averse to the wild." a man, Aaron, I presumed, countered. "Place ill-traveled, bandits'll be scarce. We'll probably make it to the sea with most of our goods, which is better than I can say for others like us."

"Our map does not chart these roads, father." a different voice, younger, feminine. "We could be in grave danger and...wait...I hear something." she rose and began scanning the edges of her family's camp.

She is quite talented, I mused, melting out of the shadows, a skill I had learned, oddly enough, from Morrigan. The witch had more talent for it than Marjolaine had ever possessed. Most would never have noticed me.

"Please," I moved forward, altering my accent into something that I hoped sounded Ferelden, "do not be alarmed.

"Put your weapon down, Shira." Aaron spoke to his daughter. "It's merely a Chantry sister." he walked to me and extended his hand. "I am Aaron Benadie." he introduced himself. "This is my wife, Lisbeth, and our daughter, Shira. What brings you to these unfriendly parts?"

"I was separated from my sisters in the Frostback mountains." the lie fell from my lips with ease as I plied my old trade. Earn their confidence, earn their trust, use them and depart. "I have wandered in the woods for days attempting to find them. It is by the Maker's grace alone that I found this road."

"Here," Lisbeth joined her husband and took me by the elbow, guiding me to their fire, "you must be exhausted and you look a fright. We haven't much but crude hospitality, I'm afraid."

"I am grateful for whatever you might offer." I told them the truth. "Maker's blessings upon you. Also, forgive me for eavesdropping, but I could not help but overhear that you are traveling to the sea?"

"We've family in Antiva." Aaron informed me, handing me a piece of bread. I took it, grateful. "They've had no complaints there of darkspawn. Figure it's safer to bed down there until the crown decides if this is an actual Blight."

I drank from my canteen, examining his face. He was not lying. "You do not think a Blight is actually upon us?" I asked.

"Can't say as I do." he answered. "Darkspawn follow the scent of blood. War just ended with Orlais an' all, it figures that they'd be up an' about. Haven't heard tell of anyone spottin' an archdemon."

I shivered as I remembered our encounter with the archdemon in the deep roads. How Salem and Alistair's eyes had glassed over as they whispered incoherently to each other about it's "song". I had thought I would lose her that day...half-expecting her to dive into the midst of the darkspawn and hack her way through to the archdemon.

Aaron turned to me, interested. "What's the Chantry's stand on this?" he inquired. "Does your Divine think there's a Blight afoot?"

I cannot speak for the Chantry. But I know the Blight is real. I have stood in the center of it. I have loved the one who will end it.

"In truth, it has been quite some time since we have received word from Her Holiness." I staved off the question. "I do not like to think on it as I can do nothing to alter the outcome."

That, at least, is true. I thought, bitter. I could not even remain by the side of Ferelden's only hope.

"Makes sense, I suppose." Aaron considered my words and nodded. "Though I can't help but think it's a warden conspiracy. Maric was right not to let 'em in the country, if you ask me. He'd turn in his grave if he knew they'd killed his only son."

Not his only son, I seethed, though I kept a curious smile perched on my lips.

"Teyrn Loghain said the wardens didn't even light the signal. It was a hellish betrayal." anger colored his voice and I felt my palms begin to sweat. "My son was at Ostagar, sister." he confided. "If the bloody wardens had done their damn duty, Loghain would've taken the field and my boy'd be alive."

They did light the signal! I screamed within my mind. Wynne has told me as much. I have seen the scars on Salem's body where the darkspawn buried their arrows! The...the first time she nearly died in this fight against the darkspawn. Maker's breath, she is fighting for people like these, I looked to Lisbeth and Shira, saw their complete agreement wih Aaron's words. People who would see her dead as justice for a crime she did not commit. I abandoned her to carry their fate alone...heavens and hells, what have I done?

"Forgive me for speakin' my mind, sister." Aaron apologized. "Sorry for burdenin' you with my troubles, it's just good to hear the thoughts of others every once in a while. What is your opinion on this matter, bein' connected to the Maker an' all?"

I smiled, reassuring, lulling him into the false security that I shared his beliefs. "I think the Maker has very little to do with it, in truth. I grieve for your loss, Aaron. I, too, have lost those I hold very dear."

"Sodding wardens." Aaron lifted the cup he held in salute. "If it weren't for them, no damn archdemon, real or imagined, would even be lookin' for trouble to start."

"I suppose..." I paused to steel myself, though to Aaron it looked as though I weighed my thoughts, "I suppose you are right."

It was the bitterest lie I had ever told.