Dragon Age: The Silences Song

Chapter 3:

"How was the wedding?" Elizabeth sighed, noticing the masked figure approaching from behind the curtains. She rolled her eyes at the theatrics; this wasn't Orlais, and the mask felt like overkill.

"Terrible. He won't even look at me, let alone talk to me." She watched the liquid in her cup swirl, lost in her thoughts.

"You will gain his trust; you've always had a knack for that." The masked man smiled down at her.

"I have a knack for killing people," she said, looking up at him. "This? This is just a joke."

"Remember why you're doing this. Where is the man, anyway?"

"He passed out at the dinner table," she snorted. "I had some servants carry him to our room. On my way here, I spoke to the Inquisitor, and she agreed to let me accompany Cullen to Weisshaupt. I spun a sob story about wanting to get better acquainted with my husband."

"Weisshaupt? Why would they go to Weisshaupt?" The man sat down in front of her, leaning slightly in his chair.

"A lead with the Grey Wardens. I didn't get many details, but it seems that's where we're headed next."

"Keep me updated." The man's voice was grim. "We need to find the Dreadwolf before they do."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when the door to the library swung open. "There you are, cousin," Sebastian said as he stepped through. She turned back to find that the man had vanished.

"Cousin," she greeted him with a smile. "Were you looking for me?"

"I thought you had vanished with your husband; I never expected to find you here." His brows furrowed.

"I fear the events of tonight have taken a toll on my dear husband, so I thought I might catch up on some light reading." She lifted her book to show him.

His eyes softened. "I'm sorry for putting you through this, cousin."

"Need I remind you that this was my idea?" Her tone was sharp.

"I'm sorry, nonetheless."

"This alliance will benefit Starkhaven," she sighed.

"Do you care?" His voice was filled with sadness and curiosity. "Do you care about the safety of Starkhaven after what they have done to you?"

"I care about your safety, Sebastian," her voice broke slightly. "And if they are your people, then they are mine." She smiled up at him, and he returned the smile. "I'm leaving for Weisshaupt tomorrow."

"Weisshaupt? Why Weisshaupt?"

"Cullen has a mission there, and I'm tagging along." She drained her cup.

"I don't like you doing this, Lizzie." Sebastian's eyes were tender as he looked at her.

"It needs to be done." She stood her ground.

"Very well, Maker be with you," he whispered, stepping back through the door and leaving Elizabeth alone with her thoughts once again.

She remembered when Sebastian had first found her. He was a confused boy, returning from the disaster at Kirkwall, yearning for family and retribution. He sought her out in secret, ashamed of her origins and what she represented. Slowly, she melted his heart, offering him what the Chantry could not: love.
In time, he began bringing her to court, where everyone assumed she was his mistress—a laughable notion for a celibate man. To protect his reputation, she remained hidden from the eyes of servants and nobles alike. Yet, he continued to seek her counsel, returning again and again. It took nearly ten years for him to shed the hatred he held for Kirkwall and its mages. He did what needed to be done.

The markets in Denerim were small compared to those in Starkhaven, but she found herself missing the simplicity of cooking in front of a warm fire and helping the elves in the alienages. She had offered them more than just a meal, she offered them justice. Whenever a noble man would harm one of the elves, they would come knocking at her door, seeking some hope. Before long, those men would vanish, their fates sealed by her. That had been her true place—among the overlooked and the forgotten, a servant, a nobody, a killer.

One day, a mysterious man appeared at her door—a Dalish elf adorned with intricate tattoos that told stories of his own. His presence frightened her; she had never encountered anyone from the Dales before. Yet, she couldn't turn away someone in need of a warm meal. As he spun tales of ancient gods and the cunning Dreadwolf, she found herself captivated. Day after day, he returned, weaving more enchanting stories that drew her in deeper.
With each passing moment, her fondness for him blossomed. He began to share her bed and partake in her meals, and in that intimate space, she realized she had fallen in love with this elf.

Not long after, a stranger appeared at her door, bearing the devastating news that her beloved elf had been killed by the Dreadwolf, he had been an agent but he couldn't deliver on his promise. A cold shock settled in her chest; she never shed a tear, realizing with a sinking heart that she had never even asked her beloved his name. The stranger spoke of vengeance, and without a moment's hesitation, she accepted his offer. He laid out his plan, each word igniting a fire within her, fueling her need for retribution.

A week later, Sebastian stood on her doorstep—broken and alone.