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Every year, on the anniversary of Maya’s death, Leliana visited a Chantry and prayed for her soul. It was said that the Maker smiled on His Grey Wardens, and she knew it must be true, for why else had He sent her to Maya’s side? Maya had died for the world, despite its cruelty. It was true they revered her for it now, and Leliana ought to have been glad for that, but it just made her bitter.
Where had that respect which now existed been, when nine people and a dog had been all that was left to save Ferelden from the Darkspawn? Maya had died, and they named her Hero of Ferelden for it. In life, Leliana knew she had been persecuted. She had known her, this woman she had loved, for what seemed a few scant months. In that time, she had seen the frightened, skittish women she had first met, who never seemed to dare to contradict anyone, start to blossom into a leader, someone who would be obeyed. Then she had sacrificed herself, and Leliana’s world had shattered in an instant.