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I don’t belong here…
She fought back the urge to laugh; the bitter irony of her innermost thoughts, edging ever closer like a cold, shadowy presence, taunted her. Mages spoke of demons tempting any and all who failed to resist them and their promises of unimaginable power, but merely a ploy for their own ends. Who needed demons, when you had your own already inside of you, haunting your every waking, and sleeping, moments?
“Ashi? It’s me, I brought you some--” The flap to her tent shifted, footsteps scuffing the ground beneath her feet, then stopping. The Bard hesitated, and the elf could feel her gaze upon her. “Ashi? Is everything alright, my love?”
“No…” came the distant, almost detached, response. Then, a soft sigh. “No, I’m not okay.” Ashiva felt the bedroll shift ever so slightly. Leliana, ever the calming presence, and oh so patient, sat with her. She spoke not a word, and asked nothing of the Warden, giving space to her, allowing her to gather her thoughts. Her hand, as if on reflex, reached out to grasp her love’s own, receiving a soft squeeze in return. The act meant to reassure her. Warmth. She’s not cold, like I am.
Part of her, determined not to succumb to the demon clawing at her mind, took comfort in Leliana. Her only means of survival, against herself, for the moment. Some months prior, she had killed the men that murdered her mother. The act should have fulfilled… something, but the emptiness her mother left behind had not been filled then. What was justice, then, if not a thinly-veiled act of vengeance? Of revenge? If she hadn’t gone with Duncan, she wouldn’t have been a Warden. Tainted with the blood of an Archdemon, and darkspawn… haunted by nightmares of it. That vile corruption coursed through her veins, sending her spiraling down to a point of no return.
Knowing what it had made her into disgusted her.
Her head would have more than likely been on the chopping block at first light. Or, better yet, she thought bitterly, her body hanging from a noose over the gallows. Would they give an elf that much?
But, her more rational mind offered, you would not have met Leliana. Not if you had stayed.
“I’m tired, Leliana. So tired..”
“I’m here. For you, I’m always here.”
She allowed herself to weep, silently, pouring all of her pain and sorrow out in the confines of her tent.
Alone, the world became overwhelming, and the tasks before her felt impossible. There was no safety out here, not even compared to what little safety the Alienage provided. Not even her own mind was safe. They, her traveling party, Ferelden, and all of Thedas, counted on her to put an end to the Blight. Alistair had been all too eager to push her into leading them, rather than do it himself. He, the senior of the two sole remaining Wardens in all of Ferelden, didn’t want to accept responsibility.
Why was it her fucking job to solve the world’s problems? All she ever wanted was for elves to be treated equally. Not… not this.
At least, in the relative safety of her tent, she was free to drop her defenses. There would be no one to judge her here. No one to call her Knife Ears, or treat her as lesser than they on the basis of her birth, as well as her gender. No expectations. No Warden responsibilities. There was only Ashiva, an elf woman from Denerim.
Her arms found their way around Leliana’s waist, fingers pressing against the leather of her armor, clutching her tightly. Morrigan would have most definitely scoffed at this display; she did not handle these sorts of emotions well. Ashi understood, however, and did not push her closest friend into such awkward situations. There was a time for talking, and a time for feeling, and Morrigan was the former. Not the later. Leliana provided the comfort she needed when she was at her absolute lowest.
You don’t belong here. You don’t even deserve her. Why should you, after everything you’ve done? You nearly cost the entire Alienage their lives with your actions.
I had to do what needed to be done. Nothing more.
What of all the lives of all those other men you killed, just to get to your goal? What of them? Did they deserve the taste of your steel? Your cold, unyielding wrath? You spared them no mercy, such as a beast spares none for its prey.
…
Is that it? No more excuses to hide your bloodied hands? Just as I thought. You are weak. You can’t even feel satisfied in your thirst for revenge properly.
That’s… that’s not--
Cute. She’s lying again. Pathetic. That’s what you are. You’re nothing more than a shallow elf whose only achievement was revenge for the death of her mother. You killed him. Pushed your blade through his chest, felt it slide in like a knife to butter. You watched as his life faded away, choking on his own blood. Is that not revenge? It certainly isn’t justice.
You were right. You don’t deserve to be a Warden. You don’t even deserve to be alive.
You deserve to be dead.
N-no… you’re wrong. I never--
An Orlesian accent cut through her self-destructive thoughts, like sunlight breaking through a thick fog. “Breathe, ma chérie. You’re safe.”
Leliana.
Am I?
“Focus on your breathing. It’s okay to hurt. It’s… alright to feel pain. You are strong.”
No. No I’m not.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, chest tight, throat clenched. Heart pounding in overdrive, like it was ready to burst in her chest. It truly felt like she was dying. Thank the Maker, or whoever was paying attention, that her eyes were shut tight, else her vision blur too much and exacerbate her fear and panic. It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced this terror, and certainly not the first time Leliana had helped her through this. Her guilt overwhelmed her, weighing her down and pulling her below the water she so desperately tried to keep her head above, until she could no longer fight it, and therefore, could no longer breathe. Had her cause been just? Did she even do the right thing, killing Vaughan… all those men? So much blood. And the screaming.
“Stay with me, Ashi. You’re not there anymore. You’re with me, safe inside your tent.”
A warm hand at her back. Strong, lithe arms encircling her, applying just enough pressure to be soothing, but not suffocate. The gentle sound of a steady heartbeat beneath where her ear pressed against Leliana’s chest. The subtle sweetness of Leliana’s scent.
Leliana. Calm, gentle, full of life and laughter and love. She is the juice rolling down your chin after biting into the most delectable apple. She is the soft, gentle breeze, present but ever moving, and ever changing. She is like the rain, renewing a land weary and tired, encouraging growth and change, but is also heavy and melancholy. She is also the moon, for she is light, both cold and distant, yet beautiful and mysterious, revealing her vulnerabilities only to those who look upon her with care and reverence.
So too is she the nightingale, for what creature in all of Thedas could ever match a song so beautiful, or possess such a gift?
I am… I am safe, here. There is no threat. Just… just Leliana. If she is okay, then, then I’m okay. She’s so calm, and so, so wonderful. I never imagined a human more compassionate in all my life.
Breathing became easier to do, and she perhaps held onto Leliana a lot less, because maybe she felt like she’d been crushing her Bard’s rib cage a little too much. Her head hurt, but the swirling chaos inside wasn’t out of her control, becoming manageable, even tolerable. Panic gradually faded, withdrawing like the tide, giving way to a calmness that hadn’t been there in what felt like an eternity. She’d be damned if she wasn’t absolutely exhausted.
“Leli…” came Ashi’s tired murmur. It was all the Warden could manage.
“Hush. You do not need to speak. There will be time for it later. Do not worry.”
She understood. Leliana tended to her needs even if Ashiva herself did not know what they were.
I really do love her. More than anything, I love Leliana. My light in the dark. She is… too precious to me.
They had finally confessed their feelings maybe a month prior, after traveling back to Redcliffe with a pinch of Andraste’s Ashes. Her mother’s ghost, in that first trial room, had given her the closure she needed to finally mourn her loss. It had been a complete surprise when her mother recognized Leliana, however, as the same woman that set her free in the dungeon of the Arl’s estate. How ironic then, that she wind up traveling with her daughter to help fight the Blight. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. And the confrontation with Marjolaine in Denerim before that had borne witness to a Grey Warden blurting out her feelings, without thinking, surprising everyone in the room, including the Grey Warden herself. They hadn’t spoken of it, or of Marjolaine, since. At least, until Redcliffe.
Leliana took her to bed that night, where they became far more intimate with each other, both too afraid of what the future may, or may not, hold for them. It was a night Ashiva would never forget. She had been so sweet, so patient, so, so gentle with her. And so overwhelmingly loving. Her heart had been filled to bursting. Never in her life had anyone treated her with such care, such tenderness, or respect, as Leliana.
The elf murmured something, quietly, but not loud enough for Leliana to hear.
“Hm? Did you need something, Ashi?”
She bit her lip and felt her face grow hot from embarrassment, but cleared her throat and forced herself to try again. For Leliana’s sake. Damn it all, she wanted to share her feelings with her Bard but her own voice was making things difficult.
“I love you, Leliana. I love you so much.”
Her lips split into a soft grin when she heard Leliana’s heart begin to race. Words really did have an impact.
“I love you too. My brave lionheart. You really are wonderful.”
“Am I?” Doubt had returned, briefly, but it would soon be chased away by her lover.
“Always.”
And Ashi was satisfied. Her demons ceased to taunt her, at least for the time being.
“Hm… tell me the story of Alindra and her Soldier Love again?”
Leliana’s chest rumbled in soft laughter. “Of course. I know how much you love hearing me tell it. I shall tell you again, as many times as you like. It is my favorite story to tell.”
As Leliana began to weave the tale of Alindra and her Soldier to her Warden once more, Ashiva relaxed against her. Her eyes slid closed, focusing on nothing but the sound of her voice, and the gentle beating her heart. No matter what dangers they faced in the days ahead, here, she was with her love, alone in her tent, and she was safe. She was at peace.
"A long time ago, there lived a fair maiden called Alindra. She had many suitors, but spurned them all, for she did not love them…”