Leliana is in the Rookery. This is hardly a revelation. She is almost always in the Rookery, Sister Nightingale overseeing the lives and deaths of the people of Thedas from her great tower. In reality, the tower is not so grand. Cages must be cleaned, letters must be written. As of this moment, candles must be lit, Leliana standing at her impromptu shrine to the Maker and Andraste, lightning two fresh candles and nodding to the icon in the alcove as the flames dance in the draught from the window.

It seems that it was a great folly, her brief stint away from Skyhold. Leliana was barely parted from here a few days, and yet it feels like the costs for that-- that whimy, that indulgence, will be great indeed. Crows had been in Skyhold, had infiltrated their numbers, and a dear friend was taken. Was that the cost of her adventuring beyond the keep?

More vigilance was necessary. More careful scheming, monitoring, taking every element, every person within the Inquisition and examining them exhaustively, until she could be satisfied their intent was pure.

"Maker, preserve us," she murmurs very quietly.