Tirndas, 12th of Red Leaves, 9:32 Age of Dragons
Warden:
This is Leliana. It has been many months since I saw you last in Denerim, and I still have not forgiven you. How could you have done this to me? Did I not become the woman you aspired to, become just as you thought about? For all those long months at the campsite, in our travels together around Ferelden, in those terrible, dark times before the Fall of Urthemiel, I watched you, tried to understand... and yet I cannot!
How could you have chosen that terrible Morrigan over me? Was it because of her artfully torn garments... her 'wild' life... or was it that you found her cruelty, her callousness... somehow amusing?
When you would come over to me, talk to me, I secretly thought that this was the time, this chance was what it would take. Sometimes you would be kind... you remembered my stories, you did not mock my beliefs in the Maker, you even brought me gifts, things that I had mentioned. But you also played a joke on me... me, a bard of Orlais, the favorite of Marjolaine herself!
For you once said 'I seem to be resisting your charms...' I now know why you did this. It was not an invitation... but merely something for you and that horrible witch-woman to laugh at...! You gave me new shoes when I complained of Ferelden's ugly boots... and at the first rainstorm, my lovely blue velvet shoes disintegrated in the mud! You gave me my mother's favorite Andraste's Grace... and I caught a rash! You gave me a nug, a little pet Schmooples, just the thing I thought I wanted... but the horrible beast ate holes in all of my clothes, ate the buttons, ate the buckles! It even ate my collection of sacred Andraste relics! How can I ever explain to the Maker, to the sisters at the Chantry... that the sacred golden symbol of Andraste is now a pile of nug poop?
You gave me all the things I wanted... and they became as nothing, less than nothing! Was this your final message to me?
If I could revive Marjolaine, I would ask her... she would know what to do, where I went so wrong, what it was that I could have missed...but she is gone now, and all I have is this, her bow. Tomorrow I shall take to the road again. I shall take this bow, and a sheaf of arrows... and I shall seek you. And when I find you at last, I shall string this very bow, nock arrow to string, aim carefully....
And I shall shoot... for your heart.
With all my love,
Leliana
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