Chapter Text
From up on the slanted rooftops the city streets looked less crowded. It was a sight that Liselath never found herself getting tired of, and the shadows of balconies and ledges gave her ample time to survey the city. She could count the years she’d spent in Antiva by the changes to her sight line. The buildings, homes and businesses, served as reminders of the time that had passed since joining the Crows and the discordant end to her Dalish childhood.
In ten years of service she’d seen the development of new houses, the restoration of historic buildings, and the opening and subsequent closing of nearly twelve brothels.
Still, there were things which had not changed since she first viewed the city all those years ago. The merchants still stood overlooking their wares, careful to catch any thieving hands. Antivan peasants and nobles brushed shoulders as they browsed, almost neighbors by how often they saw each other. The alley cats wrestled fish from the banks of the Treviso water which crisscrossed through the city like veins, well fed and tolerated by the citizens.
It was a halfway desperate place, grim reminders of poverty were present wherever you looked, but, you’d be lying if you said Treviso didn’t possess a special sense of wonder. Treviso was a city which breathed and bled.
She looked at the scene below with a lingering sadness, remembering the first time she’d seen the city from above like this. Viago had held tightly onto the back of her shirt to keep her upright, as the sight of the ground had made her so dizzy she nearly fainted.
“Don’t look down if it bothers you so much.” He’d said with a demanding, albeit gentle, scowl. His Antivan accent was thick and rather unfamiliar to the Dalish girl, it made everything sound languid and musical, but didn’t quite match the intensity of his eyes or the tightness of his grip.
She nodded, not quite taking in his words as a buzzy numbness crept up her arms. He must have noticed, because he didn’t let go of her right away.
Now she crouched on the tiled roof alone, less dizzy from the heights and more so for the turmoil she’d gotten herself into the night before. Despite her desperate attempt to distract herself, the scene played over and over in her mind's eye.
She pictured herself, smug and self congratulating, strolling in eyeing the jeweled dagger she’d stolen from the Antaam. A boast, and an exaggerated one at that, about how she’d used it to cut the bindings on the prisoners hands awaited on her lips.
She suspected that Teia and Viago had already heard, her stunt had practically awoken half the city, and looked forward to a polite congratulations from each of her teachers.
Her pride disappeared immediately upon meeting Viago’s eyes. Her broad smile straightening into a thin, worried line.
“Vi?” She asked, nearly dumbstruck, “What’s wrong?”
He responded with only a stern glare, fiery and rageful. She was somewhat accustomed to it, every now and then when a target got on his nerves Viago would flash the look, usually right before he unsheathed his dagger. It was entirely different seeing it directed towards her though. While stern and exacting, Viago was not a cruel teacher, at least as far as Crows went.
Lisel did her best to shake herself out of the memory, not wanting to continue to abuse herself, but it did little to assuage the immense guilt she felt. The feeling was only stronger now that she’d had a night to think about her actions. His gaze was almost punishment enough for what she had done. Now, as she looked upon the city below, she did her best to cultivate a different attitude: stalwart aloofness. It was a feeling natural to her, and admittedly, mixed in with her guilt over her actions was a sort of fiery righteousness. She couldn’t help but feel justified, impending punishment or not. She’d defied the Crows unknowingly, and done so to save Treviso citizens. If anything, the Crows ought to be congratulating her. And if not the Crows as a whole, then at least Viago. After all, he’d been the one to train her, the one who cultivated her headstrong nature and urged her to act on her gut.
“Don’t be afraid to strike first.” Viago had chided her during their combat training, “You can’t win a fight just by dodging.”
He’d always told her that it was her inclination towards hesitancy which would get her killed, something he clearly believed considering he’d done his best to always accompany Lisel on contracts with any chance of violence.
Before last night, she’d never felt much like a Crow before, and in the brief interlude between freeing the would-be slaves and meeting Viago’s smoldering eyes, she’d finally gotten a taste of it. And in her own way, liked it. She had acted on instinct, taken an opportunity when it presented itself.
But now the repercussions fell on her shoulders alone. There was a modest chance she’d be dead tomorrow, and even if not, it wasn’t likely she’d see the city, her city, anytime soon.
“Viago will come through for me,” she assured herself, although she didn’t believe it, “Punishment will be severe but not unbearable. Just like Teia said.”
Everything within her was telling her to run and hide, an old habit from childhood she’d assumed she’d outgrown. Being a Dalish elf, she’d lived in the woods for all of her early life, watched how her family foraged and scraped by, learned to navigate and pass through the forest leaving no trace. She knew the wilderness around Antiva better than any Crow, if she needed an escape that was her best bet.
A warm breeze blew in, fluttering one of the epaulets on her collar and tickling against her neck. She brushed it away, recoiling as her fingers grazed over the raised scar which traversed below her ear to the center of her collarbone. It had long since healed, but every time she saw an Antaam in the city, she swore it burned as if it were still fresh.
——-
Viago went easy on her, favored her even. She’d noticed this immediately upon her induction into the Crows, though she never brought it up to her mentor. She was much older than other recruits. Ten and under were the typical ages which aspiring Crows were trained. Liselath was fourteen when she began, a Dalish fresh out of the forest and unfamiliar with any other way of life. She’d assumed this was why Viago felt sorry for her; he had been the one to take that life from her. Given the circumstances in which they met, Liselath had never felt animosity towards his choice, even if she hated being a Crow. He may have brought her to the Crows as an unwilling recruit, but they both knew she had no better chance of survival than what an assassin’s life offered her.
“You can learn to enjoy it.” Was the only advice he’d offered her. She’d done her best to keep her head down, accepting the training with no complaints and taking the jobs she was given. Her self-possessed attitude endeared her to him, although something about her forbearance seemed to cause him to worry.
“Suppose he knew I’d fuck up and do something like this.” She said aloud to herself, although she wondered if even Viago could have foreseen the ramifications of her actions.
Last night he regarded her with fury. His blue eyes smoldered, his brows scowling downwards as he rushed towards her. Almost vicious. His formerly handsome face shadowed, making his features look foreboding, and for a second she was sure he was about to strike her.
She recoiled, had he always been so much taller than her?
Her shock was broken by the sound of a chair flying across the room. A glass pitcher shattered onto the floor, spilling the yellow flowers it held and soaking the carpet in cloudy water. Lisel’s gaze shifted to where it lay broken, too afraid to acknowledge Viago as he stood there like a pot boiling over.
“Ghi’lan.” She said in a soft monotone, using the affectionate Dalish word for teacher as her eyes grew blurry.
“Look at me you stupid girl.” His tone was eerily measured, so haunting that her eyes instinctively met his own.
“Ghi’lan,” she tried again, eyes finally spilling over, “What’s going on? What happened?”
“You know what the Crows do to traitors?” He asked, not bothering to answer her questions as he hovered over her. Liselath couldn’t tell wether he expected an answer or not, offering a silent nod instead.
“They die.” He said blankly. The table beside her rattled as he slammed his fist down onto it. Her eyes darted between his clenched hands and his scowling eyes. “You’ve single-handedly exposed a plan which has been months in the making. You’ve betrayed the Crows and made me out to be an idiot.”
Lisel’s breath caught, overwhelmed by his words and their implications. The past few hours sped through her mind, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
“All I did was-“ she started, “I rescued those people!” She spoke with more emotion than intended, the sheer certainty behind words surprised her.
Viago looked at her with hot intensity and took another step forward. Instinctively she flinched and took a step backwards; a display which both shocked Viago and annoyed him. His face distorted with disgust as he turned away from her.
“Have I ever struck you before?” He asked coldly, sounding almost hurt himself.
“No. No you haven’t.” Liselath said, hiding her face in her hands.
“Of course I haven’t.” His words were icy as he continued to look away from her, “I see now that I’ve been altogether too easy on you.”
His regret was almost palpable, and Lisel felt herself shrinking inwards with shame. Every fiber of her being was pleading with her to run, to jump out the open window, rush past Viago and lock herself in her room. Anything to get herself out of this nightmare.
She made a nearly imperceptible movement towards the door behind her, but Viago was well aware of her tendency to leave in the heat of the moment and grabbed hold of her wrist tightly. Her shocked eyes locked onto where his gloved hand held her as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Face me like a real Crow.” He chided, grabbing ahold of her face with his free hand, “Maybe if I had beaten you I wouldn’t need to treat you like the terrified, impulsive child that you are.”
It took all her composure not to break out into sobs, a reaction she had assumed the Crows had trained out of her. But the look on his face was crushing. She’d been used to getting corrections from him, paired with the very occasional buried compliments, but being the object of his rage was entirely unfamiliar. She had always been desperate to please Viago, and, a fact that she regarded as one of her greatest achievements, she’d always been able to make him laugh. Now he looked at her as if she were nothing.
“Viago!” A stern voice called from behind him. They both looked over his shoulder as Teia walked down the stairs clad in a sheer white nightgown, her footsteps cutting the silence of the room, “Stop scaring her.”
Viago sighed aloud but did as instructed, loosening his grip on her face and lowering his voice to an annoyed simmer.
“The Talons have called a meeting tomorrow evening. Your punishment will be decided then.” He let go over her face, his eyes lingering over her neck scar for a moment before he pulled away entirely.
Liselath swallowed with relief and did her best to keep a stoic expression. Her eyes instinctively looked at Teia as Viago turned away. She was difficult to read, while her own disapproval was evident, a softer expression lingered about her eyes. For a moment Lis mistook it for pity, but a slight shake of her head laid threadbare to what Teia really felt.
“She’s afraid for me.” Lisel thought. The realization was terrifying.
Lisel responded by playing ignorant, instead looking up expectantly at her two superiors. Teia and Viago were both Talons, surely that would be in her favor.
“I can’t promise you anything.” Viago said flatly, “ and I expect your punishment to be severe.”
Teia took up her place at Viago’s side, raising a hand to stop him from saying anything else.
“We’ll do what we can for you.” She said with a nod, “Viago won’t let them hurt you. No matter how mad he is.”
Viago shot a glance down at Teia before turning on his heels with a silent huff and striding onto the stairs. Teia met the back of his head with a glare before lowering her eyes back to Lisel in sympathy. Teia always had a silent way of assuring her students that she wasn’t upset with them despite their shortcomings, and the look elicited a stream of tears from Lisel, who quickly wiped her eyes and cast her glance at her feet.
“Teia, don’t make promises on my behalf.” Viago called over his shoulder as he dragged his gloved hand up the banister. He stopped momentarily to gaze down on his student. He looked into her eyes, his own somewhat glazed over, as he gave a final command.
“And Rook- Don’t do anything stupid.”