Dragon Age Inquisition: Faith

Part III: Secrets in Skyhold

A Grey Warden camp in the Free Marches, 9:37 Dragon 

Naia stood up from the little desk and slammed its lid down as hard as she could. For a minute she thought it might collapse, but the camp supplier had learned his lesson about Warden strength. The desk wobbled, but held. She leapt to steady a small bottle of perfume, the one Zev had given her on the ship from Antiva City. It meant a lot to her that Zevran had paused to pick out a gift for her before they killed that Guildmaster.

Thinking about Zev calmed her a bit. She was able to still her fury and focus, breathe through her nose. Think, damn it. Think. But this wasn’t a problem she could untangle just by thinking at it. Andraste’s blood. What am I going to do?

“I see I have come at a bad time.”

Years of training kept Naia from shrieking and leaping out of her skin. Instead, she only jumped a little as she turned to face the speaker.

A red-haired woman dressed all in black was standing in the door to Naia’s tent. Duncan the mabari was sitting at her side, panting happily as the visitor scratched his ears. The woman smiled. “Duncan has said hello. Won’t you?”

“Leliana!” Her bad mood suddenly forgotten, Naia stepped forward to embrace her friend.

Leliana returned the hug, but scolded, “You should not be letting people sneak up on you.”

Naia stepped back and pushed her hand through her hair, ruining her braid in the process. “I know. I don’t make a habit of it, I swear. It hasn’t been a good day.”

Leliana’s mouth thinned. “I can see that. What is it that troubles you so?”

Naia shook her head. “You first. What brings you here?”

“I am headed to Kirkwall on a matter of some secrecy. The Divine is worried that—well, no matter.”

“Let me guess. Mages and Templars?” Naia asked, arching an eyebrow.

Normally Leliana would have applauded a correct deduction. This one made her face fall. “Things at the Circle must truly be bad, if you have heard about it all the way out here.”

The worry on Leliana’s face shook Naia. Belatedly, she remembered that her friend worked for the Chantry now. She tried to backstep. “Well, one of our Wardens—a Ferelden, actually—he used to live in Kirkwall. His friends send him letters. It sounds as if things have been difficult since the old Viscount died.” She frowned. “I hope you plan to do something about this Knight-Commander Meredith. She sounds half mad. She’s even been bullying Alistair about Ferelden giving harbor to mages.”

Leliana dropped her gaze and made a little cooing noise at the dog. “Well, those are problems for another day, no? I heard there were Grey Wardens in the area and took a chance that you might be with them. And, here you are.” She raised her head and met Naia’s eyes. “But not in the spirits I would have wished for you.”

Leliana’s head was tilted in concern, an expression Naia knew well. But … there was something just a bit calculated in the gesture, now. Not for the first time, Naia wondered just what her friend had been up to since Alistair’s coronation. She knew Leliana had returned to the chantry when her friend had become Divine Justinia V, and that she bore the somewhat mysterious title of "Left Hand of the Divine." But not even Zev could untangle exactly what it was that Leliana did, and whenever she asked, Leliana would make vague comments about beckoning and reaching.

“And so? What troubles you?”

For a moment, Naia considered saying nothing. She hated herself for that hesitation—if she could not trust Leliana, who had combed her hair for Alistair’s coronation and held her while she wept for Lady Isolde, what was wrong with the world?