Once Lara moves, so does Leliana, listening with interest as they move. "Perhaps you might enlighten me as to your expertise, at some point."
But when the revelation on elves comes... well. She catches Lara's wrist, at that, holding her steady for a moment, studying her expression, her eyes, anything for some clue, some jest. "So simple as that? 'They only exist in stories'?"

The hold only lasts a couple of moments; whatever she looked for in Lara, she cannot see it, and so Leliana releases her, before she sweeps out of the tavern. There's no such thing. "Deplorable," she murmurs, as they break out of the oppressive air of the tavern into the crisp, invigorating chill of the night air. "History has done much to erase their very identity, here," she explains when Lara is apace with her, nodding in the direction she plans to lead. "Humanity, I should say. They have been tormented and enslaved. To hear they do not exist at all, when so many echoes appear to carry across--"

But she cuts herself short, exhaling slowly. The wall must be rebuilt, piece by piece, the calm exterior that contains her ire restored. "Forgive me. It was alarming news to be met with."