mewsbawks | Reunion for fightingale

Reunion for fightingale

[Elissa was tired. Not just the regular tired that happens after a whole day of riding, but the deep, exhausted ache you can feel in your very bones. She felt like one of the corpses that had risen in Redcliffe all those years ago; moving with no thought, just shambling on and on thanks to pure instinct.

Her journey had been long. Her journey had been rough. Her journey was still incomplete, but it was progressing. She was at a stage where she could only wait now, as some of her new friends testing a few of the theories they had managed to piece together on her travels through the western lands beyond Thedas.

Friends... that sent an ache through her almost as intense as her exhaustion. She had spent most of this journey alone, and it was in these times that she missed the nights spent by a merrily glowing fire, repairing her armor with Sten and Alistair, or sharing reading material with Wynne. She missed listening to Morrigan talk about magic, and talking to Zevran about his adventures in Antiva. She missed Oghren's drunken antics, and Shale's deadpan criticism of everything they did.

She missed Leliana.

The thought of her lover - of everything that had happened to her in their time apart - sent a sharp pain through her chest. A pain worse than the Joining, worse than when she had struck the final blow against the Archdemon. It was like the separation was killing her as surely as the Blight inside of her was.

This, at least, was something that Elissa knew she could remedy.

After her correspondence with Inquisitor Trevelyan, she'd held out only a few more days before she made the preparations. She recalled her fastest runners, her quickest birds, for the express purpose of contacting her if something should happen while she was gone. Then she had hurriedly packed her supplies and meager possessions, saddled up a horse, and headed out.

That's how Elissa got here now. Before her, the great castle of Skyhold loomed tall, nearly blotting out the sun with how close she was. Even outside its walls, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the soldiers and servants and countless others, and it wasn't long before a party was opening the gates and coming out to greet her. Most didn't recognize her, but some did - and as per her request and the Inquisitor's orders, they said nothing. Elissa... she wanted this to be a surprise for Leliana. From what the Inquisitor had told her in her letters, the bard had been in a terribly dark place as of late, and so she wanted to do something good for her. A surprise that didn't end in heartbreak, she hoped.

She didn't really have a chance to wash herself up, but she was able to at least wipe off the dust and grime from her armor before she strode into Skyhold's great hall. Now let's see, which way to go....]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( There are times when Leliana's very bones seem to ache with it. No single strain or burden is easy to pick out and label at the worst or the most bothersome, the one thing that if she could solve it, might make matters better.

(This is not strictly true, when Elissa is so far away, is pursuing a quest that may have no satisfactory resolution, is wrapped up in the same uncertainty that Leliana faces day by day, but she cannot think of herself and of her love when the very fate of their world is dragging at her shoulders. As she served Justinia, so too shall she serve the Inquisition. And was that not what she had come to wonder? Whether the Maker required their very lives, their blood, their sacrifice to prove that they did love him truly, that they were worthy of some salvation? Even in victory it seemed here would be a cost, and there would not truly be an end to the struggles they fought through.

Such thoughts cannot be shared, cannot be risked, and so she pushes them away, neatly packaged up to be attended to later.)

As it is, all pressures and problems would seem wound together, an intricate weave. So detailed are the interlocked threads that, were she to present it to a merchant in Val Royeaux, she is quite certain they would offer the most outlandish of prices. A shame, that life's troubles cannot be so easily bartered away as fine silks. As Cassandra continues to be the knight and the sun, so does Leliana balance it out; the moon, a reflection of the Divine's good and the Chantry's mission, moving through darkness and dealing in secrets and poison, instead of honour and chivalry. They progress, and yet... it is enough to make her wonder, at times. Elissa had been so certain she was good, that she was different from Marjolaine and that she should find her own path. It seemed, however, that Leliana was drifting further and further into waters that she had sworn were not her own, and yet felt as natural as if she were equipped with gills and a tail.

She is caught in a moment of thought, one arm crossed over her chest, the other propped against it as she taps her lips with the knuckle of her index finger, descending the staircase from her tower and crossing the way to ask a question of Vivienne, when-- )

Impossible.

( It is impossible! But she's leaning forward against the railing, staring at her-- at her love, at Elissa, and if she were not wearing gloves she is quite sure she could see the white press of her knuckles. For a moment, the surface is broken, and she barely has time to school it again before calling out, ) Warden Cousland!

( Tact, shadows and facades are ground into her, here, although it occurs to her that her affairs are her own, that they do not matter, and that in a moment she is going to be running towards Elissa anyway, so the poor attempt at decorum is entirely unnecessary. )

[When Elissa spins, her head snaps up towards the voice so quickly she's sure she heard something in her neck crack. But any pain, any discomfort just doesn't register when she hears that voice, when her eyes focus on that figure. Any thought completely leaves her mind as well; what should she say? What could she say? She had tried to say so much in her letter, but now, no words could come to her at all. So, for a moment, all she does is stare.

Her dear bard had changed. Not just in the passing of the years they've been apart - though in that respect, she hardly looks any different - but in everything else. Even here, a floor below her, Elissa can just see how she's changed, how she now carries herself and how her shoulders seem to be straining with the weight of all her responsibilities.

For some time, in those years that seemed like just distant memories now, Leliana had held her up as the weight of her entire world bared down on the Warden. Now? Now, it's Elissa's turn to do the same.

So with no regard to the nobles and servants alike that are milling about the great hall - and staring in a varied mix of curiosity, shock, and awe at Warden Cousland - she calls back up to Leliana, a smile slowly spreading across her face.]

Even after so long, you certainly know how to get my attention with only a few words, Leliana.

[It's not the most charming she's been, but... well. It's been a long time since she's been around people she wasn't talking work or theory with. She's out of practice.]

That is the duty of a bard, is it not?

( For a moment she recalls Morrigan, her strange mix of scathing words and sage advise, and how all those years ago Leliana had sometimes felt an awkward girl who fumbled her words, rather than a master of reading people. There are attitudes of Morrigan's that, now, make a good deal more sense, even if she does not see eye to eye with her on many things, and so much she wonders if she should have asked or considered at the time. The magic of retrospect, she supposes. Morrigan, Zevan, Wynne - none of their companions matter a whit, now, and she does not dare (dare seems too strong a word, mind, there are few things Leliana lacks the daring for) to glance towards Vivienne, who is no doubt taking in this spectacle with some amusement, filing Leliana's every reaction, ever expression away for later analysis. Pieces of the Game, ever being played, even so far from Val Royeaux.

Leliana draws back from the railing, moves back to the stairwell to descend, and uses the moment to try and carefully organise her thoughts. It doesn't go entirely to plan - her steps are quicker than normal, longer, though she does not break into a run.

Josie is probably in the hall, by now, and for a moment there is a thought of betrayal - for how could Warden Cousland have reached, let alone breached the walls of Skyhold without her knowing? Only through a collaboration of the Inquisitor, and likely the other advisors and orders issued to her spies, maybe even the Right Hand and the Inquisitor's other companions in the field. Varric would no doubt have opinions to share, and she could see another evening of Wicked Grace on the horizon already.

Of course, thinking about everyone else is really just a means to avoid thinking about one thing, the person who matters most, the one who would likely have the most to say about her rather than the Inquisition. Leliana isn't sure whether to smile or to feel a nervous sort of horror, and so she stands straight and opens the door to the hall. And... finds herself uncertain how to proceed. Does she embrace her? Does she hold herself back? )

[The eyes of the woman that was with Leliana up on the balcony are drilling into Elissa so hard that she's sure she can feel her armor denting, but she doesn't care. Her heart stutters to a halt when Leliana disappears, but when she appears again through the door to her left...

Maker. Elissa can't stop herself from quickly closing the distance between them, but she too hesitates before any contact is made. This close, she can see all those little things she noticed before magnified tenfold, and many others. What hurt the most was Leliana's eyes. Their journey had taken them to such awful places, had made so many of them confront demons from past and present alike, but there was always that spark, that shining light in Leliana's eyes that had drawn the warrior to her in the first place.

Now? Now she could see how much it had beaten back, how it had been smothered and dimmed until there was almost nothing left. And that broke her heart almost as much as their separation had. Leliana had changed, in such a drastic way, and part of Elissa blamed herself for it. If she hadn't left, could she have helped save Justinia? If she hadn't left, could she have been there for Leliana in a way nobody else could've been? If she hadn't left...

... If she hadn't left, she wouldn't have made progress in curing the Blight. If she hadn't left, her lifespan would definitely flicker fast, instead of only probably. In the long run, it was better that she was off on her journey when the Temple of Sacred Ashes exploded and the world went to hell...

But she still blamed herself.

Not that she was going to let Leliana know. So she smiles, hesitation filling her as she holds out her arms. She doesn't... she isn't sure if Leliana still wanted this, now that the reality of a reunion is finally staring her in the face, and she's not sure how Leliana would react to her suddenly surging forward, so... it's her choice.]

I'm sorry this took so long.

( They both step forward for contact, both stop short and hold back, and it's enough to spark a wry smile from the bard. They had stood side by side against so much, faced demons (literal and metaphorical) and yet it was this that seemed to make them both falter, uncertain. Leliana has lost much, has shoulders more burdens, but there is one person she will not have taken from her, and now that person is here.

She could almost laugh at her own silliness, and she is well aware of Vivienne and of the crowds within the hall, and they mean little to her in this moment. Sister Nightingale will not be cowed, will not allow any to even suspect for a moment that love is something to be looked down on or shied away from. The world has beaten a certain cynicism into her, but it has made her hold onto her romanticism all the tighter, as well. Had not the Inquisitor told her that this was a time to hold onto ideals, even more tightly than before?

So hardly a second passes between Elissa holding out her arms and Leliana stepping into them, wrapping her arms tight around her waist in an embrace that she would not see cut short. )

You are here now, and that is all that matters. ( Quiet, only for Elissa to hear, and she allows herself the indulge of enjoying the familiarity of her scent, of the memories that it invokes, before she speaks again. )

Although I will know who your collaborators were. ( That is louder, enough for those standing by to hear, for the warning to filter back to whatever ears it must, even if her revenge will take a more whimsical form in this case. )

[There's only one brief moment of hesitation before that hug is returned with an iron-tight grip, and that's only so Elissa can tug down Leliana's hood. When that's over with, she wraps her arms around the spymaster, pulling her as close as possible, and burying her face in that fire-red hair.

There's a moment of silence, before Elissa lets out a sigh that shakes with the force of holding back tears. She'd been so used to the weight on her own shoulders that sometimes, she didn't even realize it was there. But with this one hug, this one point of contact, the weight was lifted, and she was home.

Home.

She'd almost forgotten what that word was, after being forced to flee from Highever, and spending all her days since then on the run or journeying or holed up in taverns and inns. But with Leliana... with her, she was able to use that word again, and it was enough to bring tears to this hardened warrior's eyes.

They don't fall though, and her next sigh comes out with a sort of shaky laugh as she nuzzles her nose against Leliana's cheek. Onlookers be damned; she wasn't going to hold back on this at the risk of rumors spreading.]

I'm, ah.. I'm afraid you might be interrogating a good chunk of Skyhold, if I were to give you a list of names.

( And there it is; the feeling of Elissa's arms around her, of her strength, of the familiarity that she has been needing for so very long. The onlookers are no concern, Leliana's chin dipping just slightly, allowing herself the moment of tucking herself closer to Elissa and brushing her lips against her neck - not a kiss, just contact. And in the next moment, Elissa might just feel a familiar and slightly wicked smile against her skin. )

As I suspected. Fortunately for you, that can wait.

( And her tone very much implies that Elissa will be among the interrogated, or at the very least, on the list of those whom will be suffering inescapable pranks.
She eases back just barely, originally intended to look at Elissa, meet her gaze, and decided partway that she'd sooner keep her arms around her, even for just a moment more. )

I think that finding myself at the centre of such a conspiracy merits some wine, no? And I imagine you could use one, after your travels.

( There are more direct ways to invite someone to disappear to somewhere more private to relax, but Leliana is not inclined to the bluntness of some. )

[Ohhhh dear does she recognize that tone. And it almost makes her laugh, how she sweats a bit at it; she's faced down dragons, demons, all manner of Darkspawn, the Archdemon itself... and this, without a doubt, still makes her nervous. But she could stand up to all manner of pranks thrown her way, so bring it on, she says!]

I saw the tavern on my way up the stairs, but I have a feeling you'd prefer somewhere... a bit quieter. Lead the way.

[She's smiling, but again, she almost wants to cry. This was just one more thing she'd dared not hope for in all her years away...]

( THEN ALL IS AS IT SHOULD BE. Life with Leliana, an eternal adventure.

They have each of them carved out a place for themselves in Skyhold. A blessing from Andraste, indeed, that they found such a place. Strong enough to secure them, large enough to accommodate their ever growing numbers, to serve their many needs. It had been a wise move include a tavern, without a doubt, but that is the last place she intends on taking Elissa at the present moment. Instead she draws back, hand lingering at Elissa's cheek a moment because she knows her, knows the play of expressions over her face and the different notes of her voice. There is just a slight nod, and she turns to go back the way she came, holding the door open for Elissa and casting a searing gaze over the others in the hall as she does so, before proceeding up the stairs and letting the door clip shut. )

I trust it your taste still runs the same? Or have you discovered some exotic fair that you prefer?

( She is talking about alcoholic beverages, yes, but there might be something just faintly teasing in it, as well. Their mutual affection has never been a matter to be questioned, for her; it was as vibrant and real as her faith, as blessed Andraste herself. )

[Her heart sinks a little when Leliana pulls away, but Elissa is quick to remind herself that she has time now. Not a lot of it, and she knows a bird could arrive any day for her... but even then. It would take time. And she was going to make the most of it, however she can.

And if that meant following after Leliana like a mabari pup? No complaints here.]

Exotic isn't exactly the word I would've used. The stuff that the people to the west brew while on the road could make Dwarven ale seem like the finest, long-aged Antivan wine.

( And, finally, Leliana huffs a quiet laugh, glancing to Elissa and allowing herself the indulgence of gently elbowing Elissa's side. )

So, the Hero of Ferelden has tastes too refined for just any swill, is that what you're saying?

( There are traces of it, still, the young woman who teases and jokes, even if it is more subdued now. These days the sightings are rarer, but Cullen and Josie, and even Cassandra, have endured the brunt of some intermittent prodding from time to time.

She tsks quietly, shaking her head at Elissa. ) That is concerning.

[The smile that nearly splits Elissa's face when Leliana finally laughs could shine like the sun itself. It's only a little thing, still rather subdued compared to how they once were, but her humor is still there. And that's what truly matters right now. So Elissa rubs her side in mock injury, even though her grinning kind of ruins the act.]

I think I need someone to help me appreciate the simpler things in life once more.

Perhaps.

( They reach the top of the stairwell, only a door separating them from Leliana's private chambers. She reaches for the handle, a great heavy thing, before her hand stops short. The lightness that graced her expression just moment is still there, though tempered, once more. )

I-- ( I, what? Rare are the days that the spymaster of the Inquisition finds herself tongue tied, that she has ever felt so positioned. Her brow furrows, and the hand that she had considered extending towards Elissa balls into a fist slowly. I have changed, she feels she should say, offer some warning, but to what end? To scare Elissa away? Caution her? Leave them on unsteady ground?
No, none of those options are satisfying. Instead, Leliana leans forward a moment, closing the distance between them to press a lingering kiss to Elissa's cheek. It is not-- everything, not presumptuous (she hopes) and it is certainly not sensible giving all the eyes about Skyhold that could see them in such a hallway, and she does not care at all. )

[Despite every single part of her screaming at Elissa to turn her head and catch Leliana's lips in a proper kiss, she holds herself back. She hates herself a little for it, because she doesn't want Leliana to misinterpret it... but the last thing she wants is for this fragile, temporary peace to shatter because she's trying to do too much too soon. They have to re-learn each other, like it's the middle of the Fifth Blight all over again...

But that's not going to stop Elissa, oh no. She's not going to let this flame get snuffed out. The Maker himself would have to step in to stop her from getting this relationship back in full bloom once more.]

Don't hold your words back on my account, Leliana.

[Her voice is softer than it was previously as she reaches out to take the hand Leliana curled into a fist, folding it into both her own. She gently rubs her thumbs along the back of it, hoping to ease the spymaster's grip, at least just a little.]

After all we've been through, nothing will make me think any less of you. I want you to know that.

Edited 2016-01-08 00:49 (UTC)

I am much changed, ( she allows, just quietly, testing them out. ) Though my devotion to you remains as ever it was.

( but. there are always the but and yet and howevers lingering, waiting to raise up and cause havoc. her words are quiet, unassuming, and doomed to be followed by a response to Elissa's second comment. )

Such things are easily said, ( Leliana begins, slow, but not quite cautious, ) but even you are not all-seeing.

( and yet here she is, letting her hand relax, giving way to the contact and the reassurance it offers. there is that part of her that, just briefly, wonders if it would be better to resist, and that part is crushed with a brutal efficiency that has become so much more a part of her now than it has been in years past.

no matter. Leliana's fingers gently grasp at one of the hands wrapped about hers, trying to sooth her, and her other pushes the door open. her chambers are simple, lute in a corner and gathering dust, papers neatly stacked. the simplicity evokes the Chantry lay sister, rather than the spymaster, but closer inspection would give away more. in the meantime, Leliana gestures to the table, where a wooden decanter and silver cups rest. ) Wine?

( wine feels a little safer than, oh, conversation, and the like. )

[... Honestly, the sight of the dust-covered lute twists a string in Elissa's heart that such a thing probably wouldn't have done if she'd been anywhere else. But she has such fond memories of the nights at camp when Leliana would sing before the fire, weaving stories and music together like how artists would paint masterpieces...

It's just another sign of the changes the years had forced upon them, and she can't help but let out a shaky sigh.]

I never claimed to be all-seeing. But I do claim to be absolutely certain in at least one thing.

[She holds back. Not out of any sort of nervousness, but she wants to be sure that she can give Leliana a way out of a conversation she might not want to have right now. So she trails after her into the room, not even bothering to look at the sort of wine that had been set out before nodding.]

Please.

( does she want to have this conversation now? She can recognise the room to escape for what it is, and appreciates it, and is musing on it as she crosses to the table, sets two cups out and pulls the stopper from the bottle. )

Orlesian, ( she notes, unnecessarily. ) A little vineyard to the south.

( and as Leliana pours the two cups, she deliberates. It would be a chance to clear the air, to set things out clearly, and that in and of itself could be a good or terrible thing. Elissa is not pulling away, and she is not rushing to flee, either. The opposite, in fact, and Leliana buys herself a few more moments to think by drawing off the heavy gloves and pulling her shawl from her head, letting it rest on the table.

She has always courted danger, and yet here she is suspecting more and more that perhaps the danger she dreads is not the danger that will unfold. The two cups are in her hands, and she moves closer to Elissa again, one extended, the slightest of smiles lingering. )

And in what matter is that?

[Elissa doesn't say anything immediately, choosing instead to take the cup and down a few gulps of wine. Not at all ladylike, but she hasn't exactly had time to practice her manners while out on the road.

When she sets the cup down, a small part of her notes that she made a wise move to not shed any of her armor; without anything to occupy them now, it's her turn to curl her hands into fists, and she's sure her knuckles are bone-white beneath her gauntlets. Though even without that tell, the subtle scrape-clink of the silverite is probably enough of a hint as to how tight her grip is right now.]

I love you.

[There. She's silent for a moment, letting the words sink in as she looks Leliana straight in the eye.]

That didn't change when you told me of your past as a bard. It didn't change when that vile woman tried to paint you out to be some heartless monster.

[Her expression shifts only briefly into a scowl at her own words; even after over a decade later, that confrontation still left a bitter taste in Elissa's mouth, to the point where she refused to speak the name Marjolaine.]

It didn't change when our paths were forced to part. None of those things caused my love to waver one bit, so nothing you can say now will be able to change it. That is the one thing I am certain of.

( With how tense Elissa is, Leliana has only a sip of her wine before setting it down. Her love seems as a string wound too tight, like to snap if she is pushed any farther. Leliana takes one of her hands, holding loosely at the wrist, working loose the gauntlet. Some contact, actual contact seems entirely necessary, although she looks up sharply from the task when Elissa says that she loves her. It isn't-- she does not falter from her task, because the Left Hand does not falter, must always hold tight to reason and carry things on.

She keeps on working away the gauntlet until she has one of Elissa's hands free, can trace the pads of her fingers over her knuckles. They are mapped in her memory, even with those changes the years have inevitably brought. And while, in the past, her expression might have shuttered with the mention of her confessions and Marjolaine's efforts to slander her, for now her gaze is focused on only one thing.

Elissa may be convinced, and she may even be right. It seems to much to hope for, and yet-- hope has been what has carried her on for so long, is it not? Hope has not lead her astray or verged on destroying her, as other things might. Her hand squeezes Elissa's, and she'd move closer if she had not managed to draw closer by inches over the course of all Elissa's words. )

And I had thought that bards were the ones who were meant to be so gifted with words.

( Softly, too genuine to be mocking either of them, as she reaches out to push Elissa's hair out of her face. She did not deserve someone so good as the Hero of Ferelden, but then, she doubted anyone ever could deserve her. And frankly, after those words and far too long a period of separation, with her hand holding Elissa's, holding back from her at all feels impossible, absurd. But she still will ask, because of... everything they have shared, because she adores her too much not to, even if she leans forward to kiss her before she thinks to hang back-- ) Elissa, if you've no objection, I'd like to kiss you. Properly.

[It's been so long, so damn long, since Elissa's had any contact like this. It isn't to say that human contact in general was now an alien concept to her; handshakes were still things, or claps on the back for a battle well fought or a job well done. But this... so tender, so intimate...

She almost wants to cry. But she can't. Not right this moment. She just needs to focus on Leliana right now. So she leans forward - not to kiss her, because she still wants all of this to be in her lover's control - but to press their foreheads together in a light, affectionate gesture.]

I've never objected to it before. I wouldn't dare start now.

( The exhale of breath as Elissa leans against her, rests her forehead against Leliana's own, could be called shaky. It is not something she would allow herself in any other company but this. Wynne saw her sobbing, once, in the Deep Roads after their encounter with the Brood Mother, and Zevran made her want to stomp her feet like a petulant child with his teasing, just as Morrigan made her face fall more than once with a withering comment. That was a different time. She does not doubt that she would have some greater measure of flexibility with each of their old companions, but none of them would see her as Elissa does.

Leliana's mouth quirks in a slight smile, even as her eyes have slipped shut. ) Not if you know what's good for you.

( Admittedly, coming from a spymaster and assassin, that is a more alarming jest than it would be from most others. She is rather counting on how well Elissa knows her, however, on how any hint of severity (humorous as it is) is washed out by the softness in her voice, and her thumb brushing over her love's cheekbone. She feels like she could be content with just this, in only this, and would need no more - but she feels, equally, that this is nowhere near enough, not will all the time between them, time lost.

Leliana lingers a moment, before she finally (finally) lets her lips graze against Elissa's - light, careful - as her left hand settles at the small of Elissa's back. )

[If Elissa had been anyone else, maybe she would've been at least slightly nervous. But after that heartfelt speech, there's no way the warden could even think of taking the jest seriously. All it really does is bring to mind how huffy Leliana would get at some of Elissa's attempts at flirting. She even nearly laughs, but the sound is quickly cut off by the kiss - the wonderful if brief kiss - that she had been waiting years for.

Kissing Leliana always made Elissa feel more self-aware than she normally was. She's very aware that her lips are chapped and her hands are rough, and maybe she would have worried a bit about it at once, but now? She doesn't care. They could be caked head to toe in darkspawn blood and she wouldn't care!

So she doesn't hold back, barely letting Leliana recover from that brief peck before she leans in, mouth pressed firmly and fully against the spymaster's. It's a little rough, and their noses bump together a bit, but it's still damn near perfect.

If being in Leliana's arms made her feel like she was home, then kissing LEliana made her feel like she was ascending to the side of the Maker Himself.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Reunion for fightingale

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

OH MY GOD I ACCIDENTALLY ARCHIVED THIS i am so so sorry

NO PROBLEM BB WE GOOD