#‘yeah this is the king’s lover. she’s got all of ferelden in her back pocket’

[zolanhras]

observations

bit of a look into what could be if Solas wins, told by Leliana. this will be on my A03 doc called Stars where I put all my da prompt fills and shorts

Each member of the Inner Circle believed that they had a semblance of privacy, though each knew Leliana’s ways. She was huffed at by Dorian, avoided by Sera and grinned at by Varric. What was meant for the dark came into Leliana’s hand; The Game becoming ever more complex.

None of the members were boring; in fact in most cases she learned more than she originally intended. If she had been forced to choose beforehand which of the Inner Circle would surprise her the most, she wouldn’t have chosen the elven apostate.

Her best agents had been able to tell her precious little, though what she learned, Solas seemed to know. No one had heard of a elf matching his description in any corner of the North, from which he claimed to hail. Her agents reported less than nothing. It seemed that Solas had simply appeared from the ether.

With that, she made it her mission to keep tabs as much as she could, while running the entire spy network for the Inquisition and everything that entailed. Luckily, so long as Solas was here, she could observe.

Deuce did much of the actual recon, helping Adan in the infirmary to keep a close watch. Deuce moaned about the man, but the intel she received from the agent’s alert ears more than made the complaints worth it.

“…He even likes his ale bland, miss! I can hardly stand him.” Deuce said, gesturing in his emphatic way.

“Your read?”

The agent sighed, the lanky boy looking down at Leliana. Brown whiskers covered his faces, though some patches still lay sparse. She pursed her lips. It wasn’t as if he was doing anything dangerous, really. The worst of his troubles came from Adan’s breath. Even so, his bright eyes brought up a twinge of guilt.

“He’s weird. He stares off into nothing all the time, but he looks, erm, sad? That’s not the right word.” The boy struggled, his brow furrowing in concentration and Leliana waited. She had not chosen for him for his eloquence. “More like regret. Yeah, that’s it. Regret.”

Leliana nodded, making a quick note in her journal. Deuce was uncommonly good at reading people, a skill she had first discovered when he picked Josephine’s pocket upon her arrival in Fereldan, when Leliana had been the obviously better-dressed of the two. It was after further inspection that she found that he had an eye for what he called ‘the feel of people’. In any case, it worked for them both.

“Has he said anything of interest?” she asked.

“He talks to the Herald more lately,” he said. “He talks about spirits and magic and the Veil. The Veil a lot actually, more about spirits, and a bit about elfy stuff— Also, those two, the Herald and him, are a bit more friendly than just friends, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, quite clear.”

“Yeah, you get that,” he said, chuckling nervously before clearing his throat. “Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you, milady. Regret, crush on Lady Herald, weirdo about magic. You probably could’ve gotten that yourself.”

“Don’t undersell yourself,” she said, putting her journal down on her desk. “Thank you, Deuce.”

He nodded and narrowly missed hitting his head on the poles of the tent. She let go of her breath and shook her head.

She didn’t blame Deuce when Solas left. Sometimes these things couldn’t be seen in a person until they did it. Who she did blame was Solas, and contrary to what she had told Ellana, she had placed an alert among her agents. Ellana deserved closure, even if it was with a man such as him.

She blamed herself after the Exalted Council. That she had missed such a huge secret was inexcusable. And Ellana… People died frequently in her line of work. It was something you had to grow used to, but Ellana hadn’t ever been at risk. To see her mutilated and destroyed…

As Divine she did everything in her power to stop Fen’harel, but there was only so much she could do. Even the meeting with the Black Divine, and consequent almost-war that followed, eventually resulting in their combined force had not been enough. Dorian and his group of magisters had united Tevinter. King Alistair, and the rest of Ferelden, declared war. Orlais, after sufficient deaths and political shows, pledged their support. In a few short years, Thedas was united, but dying quicker than ever.

None of it matter in the end, really. The Veil was destroyed, resulting in more chaos than even the ancient god may have bargained for. Thousands were dead within minutes. Her only goal became manifest in killing him.

Ellana agreed with her, but Leliana had no illusions as to what would happen when the moment came. That was why she went alone.

It wasn’t easy. It probably wasn’t smart, but she was past the point of caring. She found that his defenses had been worn down, but still strong. She brought what was left of her squad, the mages and the magical experts, along with a few rogues and warriors.

By the time they got within a half mile of him, she had already lost half of her crew. A quarter mile she lost several more, but she pushed on.

When she saw him, her blood boiled, but she did not act. Even in such a state as she was now, she would not make such a waste of herself. No, she waited.

She waited, waiting until her bones ached and her head lolled back. When she blinked open her eyes, she hoped she was witnessing a Fade imagining. But no, it was true. Ellana stood before the demon, no weapon in hand. Leliana watched as the scene played out, the two lovers moving through tragic steps as if practiced.

Truth be told, she didn’t have a mind for the tragic any longer. Not for the shows Josephine would take her to or her own life. She only saw opportunity.

Their dance brought them to a low din, each leaning close so Leliana couldn’t make out their words anymore. Ellana leaned in for a short, tearful kiss, when an arrow head dug into her breast. She gasped stepping back, but another had already torn into Solas’ back. He fell, and with a wave of him arm Leliana was tossed aside as a rag doll, her head hitting the ramparts.

It had been the perfect opportunity. The moment had been the most disarmed the Dread Wolf had ever been. The magic on the two arrows was enough to kill an army, never mind a god. She waited for peace to flood through her body, but none came. Her vision began to fuzz.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ellana kneeling beside the beast, urgent words flowing from her lips. The monster lifted his fingers and stroked her tears away, blood streaking her cheeks. He may have said something more, but Ellana tilted towards him and wrapped her hand around his jaw and ear. Finally the beast slumped, his armor shifting, one of the arrow shafts cracking.

Leliana sighed and closed her eyes. Sleep beckoned and Leliana no longer resisted. She finished her duty, and cared not when a familiar cry pierced the air. Sobs drowned out thoughts, but she could hear the Maker’s call. Warmth held her close and she let go.