Chapter Text
Maybe this is just a work of art, scripted players in a play of lust
Hope the end is well worth waiting for, everything you wished it be
When Ellana was thrown back through the time-rift to her own time, she was already exhausted.
She'd just spent hours fighting demons and red Templars far stronger than any she'd seen before, so she was physically tired. She was also emotionally drained, having been forced to watch her friends suffer from the poison of the red lyrium - some of them, like Cullen and Harding, had already perished by the time she found them. Others like Bull, Varric and Leliana were still there, but only just.
Seeing them like that wasn't just hard, it was harrowing. It made her feel weak and scared. She was usually a strong person, but knowing that was what awaited them should they fail – it was overwhelming.
All she really wanted to do once she realised that they had made it out alive was collapse in Dorian's arms and cry like a child. But they still had to deal with Alexius.
It felt like the day would never end.
When dozens of armoured guards entered the hall, Ellana was about ready to start throwing a real tantrum. She’d been up to her neck in drama and intrigue all day. She wasn’t ready for anyone else to screw with her already screwed-beyond-repair plans.
She had every intention of telling the new arrivals to leave in the least polite way possible when Leliana grasped onto her arm, halting her.
“Let me go to Fiona,” said the elf sharply. “She needs my assistance.
“That is the King of Ferelden,” Leliana hissed back. “Alistair Theirin. Be careful.”
Ellana frowned and turned back to stare at the man. He was rather nondescript, she mused. Plain red-brown hair, a rather ordinary if symmetrical face. Aside from the little shouting match he was having with the mage, there was nothing about him that said ‘king’. Even his clothes were fairly plain.
“You and your followers are no longer welcome in Ferelden,” said the man sternly.
Fiona looked heartbroken. “But – we have hundreds who need protection!” she exclaimed. “Where will we go?”
Ellana pulled away from Leliana, and stepped up to the two of them. “I should point out that we did come here for mages to close the breach,” she said bluntly.
She was prepared for the surprise on Fiona’s face, but not so the shock on the King’s. He took a step back, frowning deeply. His lips looked like they formed words but he said nothing.
Leliana took the chance to step forward. “Alistair, this is Ellana Lavellan," said Leliana. "Ella, this is King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden."
Ellana gave a bow. "Andaran atish'an, highness."
"Aneth ara, lethallan," Alistair replied smoothly, which made Ella blink in surprise. He knew Dalish. That was interesting.
He either didn't notice her surprise or chose to ignore it. "So this is the so-called Herald of Andraste," he said, giving her the once-over. "How – interesting."
"I am what the Inquisition needs me to be," she said smoothly.
"And what is that, exactly?"
"Someone who can close rifts and fight demons, presently," she replied. "I've got lots of other skills but didn't think to bring my resume."
Leliana gave her a withering look but Alistair's lip quirked into a smile.
“Ellana, would you give the King and I a moment?” asked Leliana politely. “There are a few things I need to get out of the way before we discuss anything further.”
Ella nodded and returned to Dorian’s side down the hall.
“Who’s that blighter?” asked the mage.
“King of Ferelden.”
“Really?” Dorian asked, “What a pity. I thought he’d be taller.”
“You really are only interested in aesthetics, aren’t you?”
“What can I say, I’m shallow.”
Leliana and Alistair spoke for a few minutes, and his eyes darted back to her a few times as he spoke with Leliana.
"What's his problem?" asked Dorian, amusedly. "Never seen an elf before?"
"Maybe he's overwhelmed by my radiant beauty," Ellana said sarcastically, staring down at her dirt and ash-covered, blood-caked, grimy body. Leliana had given them a cloth which Ella used to clean her face and neck and hands, but otherwise she was filthy.
Dorian snorted, picking at the dirt under his fingernails. "Maybe he likes dirty girls."
Ella laughed half-heartedly at that. Even if the King did fancy her, the feeling was not mutual. He was too tall and too broad for her tastes – she much preferred the smooth grace and wiry strength of the elves to the hard, solid shape of a human man. It was a crying shame Solas disliked the Dalish so fervently, they might have had something together.
Still, she could see how Alistair would be perceived as handsome. He was well-put together, at least.
She didn’t have to wait long before the spymaster ushered her over again.
He turned to the redhead. "Leliana, would you give me a moment alone with the Herald?"
Leliana nodded. "Of course. Excuse me."
Ellana caught the glint of uncertainty in Leliana’s eyes and was suddenly worried. Uncertain wasn’t something that Leliana made a habit of being. Something was wrong.
Once the woman was out of earshot, Alistair began to speak again. "This is quite intriguing," he said. "This whole situation we find ourselves in, with the mages."
"It's rather cut and dry to me, highness," said Ellana.
"How so?"
"The mage rebel army is floundering. The Inquisition can take them on board, police them and put them to good use sealing the breach," she said.
"An interesting view from a Dalish elf."
"I may not believe in the systematic oppression and imprisonment of magically talented people, but I have also seen enough damage and destruction caused by free mages to know that there must be a compromise," she said calmly. "I think that the Chantry can repair the Templar factions, but the wellbeing of the mages is up in the air. We have the capacity to take care of them and prevent any further damage."
Alistair's eyes lingered on hers. "I imagine this army of mages is invaluable to the Inquisition's cause," he said.
Ellana frowned slightly. "Of course. Our chief priority is to seal the breach."
"Then should I not receive some form of payment?" he asked. "They are a powerful resource. It is a matter of personal sacrifice."
"I don't suppose we could appeal to your charity," said Ellana dryly.
"I'm not particularly charitable, I'm afraid."
The elf crossed her arms. "Fine," she said. "What do you want in exchange for the mages?"
Alistair studied her closely for a moment.
"You," he said. "I want you."
Ellana hoped, suddenly, that this was still all an awful nightmare and she could somehow turn back time again. Her whole body felt cold. Had he actually just asked for her?
"Not forever, obviously," he added, as Ellana stared in shock. "A short-term arrangement."
"That is preposterous," she said sharply. "You cannot seriously expect such a thing."
"You asked," said Alistair. "That is my price. Go with me to Denerim and I will give you the mages."
Ellana felt her lip curling into a snarl. “If this is some sort of sick joke – so you can screw the Herald of Andraste and boast about it –”
“What? No, not at all. It would only be between the two of us, I promise you that.”
Ellana could feel her throat tightening as he breathing became shorter, her body tense, heart hammering in shock. “We – I can provide you with any number of women,” she said. “There are consorts –”
“I have my own prostitutes, I don’t need yours,” he said calmly. “And besides, I didn’t ask for a whore. I asked for you.” He was not smiling anymore. He tipped his head towards Leliana across the room. “Go on, I expect you will want to speak with your left hand.”
Leliana knew. Of course she did.
“Did he tell you?” asked Ellana as she stormed back over.
“It was the first thing he asked,” she said, voice flat. “He seems quite determined, I’m afraid.”
“Why?” asked Ella, feeling tense and flighty. “What could he possibly want with me?”
"You bear an uncanny resemblance to Lyna.”
"Lyna? Who’s Lyna?"
"Lyna Mahariel, the Warden. Alistair's lover."
She knew that the Mahariel clan neighboured her own, and it was quite likely that she shared similar bloodlines with the Warden. She had the same dark brown hair and bright eyes, similar tone of skin and probably a similar vallaslin, too.
Leliana gave a shrug, and that was the first time Ella had ever seen such a thing from the spymaster. "Either we play nice with Alistair now and reap the benefits, or we cross him and have another war on our hands.”
Dorian stared between the two of them. "Have I missed something?" he asked. "What on earth are you talking about?"
Leliana kept her eyes on Ellana as she spoke. "The King wants access to Ellana as payment for the Southern Mages."
Dorian was shocked silent for a moment, glancing between the two of them before he said, "Access?"
"Of the bedroom kind," said Ellana, grinding her teeth in anger. Or fear. She wasn’t sure which.
"What? He actually asked that?"
"Insinuated that if I didn't we wouldn't get the mages."
Dorian looked like someone had slapped him. "Are you actually seriously considering this?"
Leliana remained stoic. "We have to consider all options."
Dorian's eyebrows shot up. "You can't, Leliana! This is barbaric –"
"The King can very easily grind our mission to a halt if he doesn't get his way," said Leliana. "If we just do as he says –"
"And let him rape the Herald?" asked Dorian sharply, the words making both women flinch. "Let him use her like a toy? Are we going to pimp her out to Celene while we're at it?"
"Mind your tongue," Leliana snapped. "I am the Herald's advisor –"
"And I am her friend," Dorian shot back. "And unlike you, I care about her wellbeing."
"This isn't just me. This is about the Inquisition as a whole. If I had my way, we would be discussing this with the Council."
"Oh, so you can take a vote on who gets to go between Ella's legs?" Dorian asked dryly, but Ella could hear the way his voice was shaking.
She gently placed a placating hand on his arm. "It's okay, Dorian," she said.
He turned to face her. "What? No, Ella, it's not okay!"
Ella took a shallow breath before shaking her head. "If I refuse, he won't give us the mages. And he won't let us into Ferelden, either. We can't afford to sever ties."
"But at what cost?"
"At whatever cost," said Leliana. "Ellana understands the logic. The needs of the many –"
"I don't care about the many," said Dorian, cutting her off. "You are supposed to protect her from all this. What sort of advisor are you, you let a man like that anywhere near her?"
Leliana's mouth twitched into a snarl. "I didn't know he would be here! And even if I had, how was I supposed to know he would ask for such a thing? He has never acted this way before."
"You should have known!" Dorian snapped. "You are supposed to know things."
"Alistair has the upper hand. We are in no position to refuse him. If Ellana says no, we lose the mages and the Templars both."
"There has to be another way.”
Leliana looked to Ellana, and the elf saw the calm veneer shift for a moment as her advisor looked on her in dismay. There really was no alternative. Leliana wouldn't be pushing this unless she thought it was completely necessary.
This was not a choice. This was Vir Sulevanin, or at least the human’s version of it. It was a task that had to be fulfilled. She had to do as Alistair asked, or there would be no mage army, and no way to seal the breach.
"We don't really have a choice," Ella said, grimacing.
Dorian's hands came to her shoulders, holding her steady and safe. "Ella, sweetheart, you always have a choice. You can say no. You should say no. This is insane."
It took all her remaining energy to push his hands from her and walk away.
“Ella, wait – this is wrong!”
His words went unheard as Leliana walked her back across the hall where the King was waiting. "Let me do the talking," said the spymaster, and Ellana was more than happy to oblige.
Alistair gave another smile as they approached – but Ella could see his smiles were empty, only for show. "Have you made a decision?"
Leliana kept her back straight, speaking with a clarity and a strength that Ella envied. "The Herald will accompany you to Denerim for one day. She will then be returned to us. If any harm comes to her, you will be expected to compensate for it. In exchange, you will give us the legislative power over the entire Southern Mage army and any associated groups, and give the Inquisition complete freedom to travel throughout Ferelden."
Alistair shook his head. "A week," he said. "Not a day."
"A week is unrealistic. The Herald cannot be away from her Council for so long a time."
"Fine," said Alistair. "One day now, and one day every month for as long as you plan to move Inquisition soldiers through my territories."
Ellana felt her stomach twist so hard it was borderline painful. He was just toying with her now – haggling over her because he knew that he could.
Leliana's eyes narrowed. "That is a decision for the Council."
"You should decide quickly," said Alistair. "Because those are my terms. Otherwise, you should consider withdrawing all your troops from Ferelden."
Ellana knew that if Leliana took this to the Council, they would be forced to agree with Alistair's conditions. She knew that none of them would like it – that Cullen would fight it, maybe even Josephine and Cassandra. But in the end, they would all still decide the same every time, as Leliana had done today: the needs of the Inquisition were greater than the wellbeing of the Herald.
Taking a shallow breath, she spoke up. "No," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Leliana, you know what they will decide."
Leliana turned to her with a frown. "Ellana –"
"They will agree to the terms because it's what's best for the Inquisition," said Ella. "If I decide now, then at least they won't have to bear that responsibility."
Underneath her words was a silent plea: please don't tell them. Ella doubted she could look any of them in the eye if they knew. Nobody aside from Dorian and Leliana would know, if Ella could help it.
She turned back to Alistair. "Once a month," she said, swallowing her anxiety. "And this will be kept confidential."
He nodded. "Of course, my lady," he replied. "My lips are sealed. See you in Denerim, Herald." He turned away, before turning back and stepping a little closer to add softly, "Oh, and – wear something pretty." His hand slowly reached up to stroke her cheek, and Ellana had to go rigid to stop herself from shoving him away.
He stepped back and left with one last lingering gaze. Ella did her best to ignore the cold shiver that passed over her skin.