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“ Fuck .”
Leliana almost didn’t hear the harsh whisper over the crackling of the campfire, but here in the Brecilian Forest everyone’s guard was up constantly, senses on high alert for the slightest disturbance. A general sense of unease had followed the bard ever since they entered the forest in search of the Dalish elves, which was why she was still awake to hear the breathy oath. Leliana blinked her eyes open, rubbing at them with the heels of her hands as she sat up and poked her head out of the flaps of her tent. The lively flames at the center of the small clearing were the only source of light around, and the shadows of the surrounding forest seemed to press down upon the camp like a thick blanket. As Leliana’s eyes adjusted, she could make out the back of Sten’s form outlined in the border between light and dark at the edge of the ring of tents, his crossed legs drawn up beneath him while his blade rested on top of them. He was so still, he might as well have been carved from stone, but Leliana knew the Qunari’s baleful eyes were alert and watchful. She also knew the quiet exclamation had not come from him. A second later, another whisper confirmed her suspicions.
“ Agh ! Elgar’nan.”
The corners of Leliana’s mouth instinctively curled upwards as she turned towards the sound of her lover’s voice, but she frowned when she beheld the cause of his curses. Leo was sitting up against a boulder that jutted out of the ground near their tents, which as of recently were pitched next to each other most nights. Despite the chill in the air he was shirtless, and Leliana spied the glint of a needle clutched between the fingers on his right hand. He was working on sewing up a small gash on the side of his left bicep, but judging by his gritted teeth and chagrined expression, the elf was having a hard go of it. Reaching back into her tent, Leliana donned her cloak before pushing the flaps aside and walking over to where Leo sat. As she approached, she saw that her suspicions were correct. Leo’s stitches were jagged and uneven, and a thin line of blood had started to run from the wound. As he glanced up at her approach, the Dalish elf’s expression went from annoyed to sheepish, and he stilled as though caught in a forbidden act. Leliana responded with a look comprised half of joking incredulity and half genuine concern.
“You’re making quite the mess of that,” she said gently. Sinking to the ground next to him, the bard leaned back on the boulder and rested her hand on his forearm as she examined his shoddy work.
Leo let out a weary sigh. “Yeah, I know. Can’t seem to keep my hand steady. Never had much cause to sew as a child.” He was trying to keep his voice light, but Leliana could hear the frustration in his voice, and he regarded his stitches with a pained grimace.
“Well, I am no seamstress, but I needn’t be one to give you better needlework than that. Would you permit me to tend to it?” she offered, letting her most persuasive Orlesian purr bleed through the words. She didn’t want to hurt Leo’s pride, but she also didn’t need him hurting himself.
“I’m... quite tempted,” the elf replied, and Leliana could see a slight flush creeping up his neck. Works every time. “But experience is the best teacher, and I need to learn to do this myself.” Leliana could tell he was trying to put conviction into the words, and a lesser conversationalist might have been taken in by it, but she could see right through her partner. There was something else at play with Leokoris.
“But why?” Leliana fixed him with a quizzical look. “Wynne could have dealt with this easily.”
Leo scratched at the skin near his stitching, only for Leliana to shoo his hand away. “You saw all the healing she had to do today. The poor woman was guzzling lyrium potions like they were ale. I wanted to let her rest. She did more than enough.” That was certainly the truth. Their trek through the forest today had been a harrowing one, replete with werewolves and other fell beasts. Wynne had been a godsend. Still, Leliana knew she wouldn’t have hesitated to heal Leo’s wound once at camp, no matter how much magic she’d cast that day. A small wound like this wouldn’t have even required much mana. Leliana pressed further.
“Why not ask Morrigan, then? She may not be able to knit this back together in an instant, but she knows more than her fair share of medicine. She could have stitched this up and given you a poultice as well.”
“Morrigan wrestled a werewolf as a bear today. She took far greater wounds than this scratch, with no complaint.” Leo’s bright blue eyes slid to the gash on his arm, and the look in them was almost guilty. “I’d have felt silly coming to her with this after the day she had.” Before Leliana could open her mouth for a retort, he pressed on. “Besides, I may not always have them with me. I need to know how to care for wounds like this myself. And at least this way,” a wry smile appeared on the Warden’s face, “I am sure to learn from my mistakes.”
Leliana raised an eyebrow at that, before pressing her fingers to a ragged patch of scar tissue on Leo’s torso whose origin she had been pondering. “Is that what this one is from? Using your body to teach yourself field medicine?” A sheepish shrug was all the confirmation she needed. “Maker’s breath, Leo,” Leliana exhaled breathily, shaking her head slightly. “Wynne and Morrigan are here to assist you. You can ask them for help with things like this. I’m sure they’d be happy to give you some instruction.” Leliana thought for a moment. “Well, Morrigan may not, but she’d agree just to gloat.”
“I know, I know,” Leo said guiltily. “But this is a small wound. It wasn’t worth troubling them over.”
Now I have him, she thought triumphantly. “So what is your excuse for me, then? I’m awake, and I’ve already offered. I was the least taxed of our companions today. And you need not worry about becoming dependent on my skill and then being deprived of it.” His eyes had dipped towards his botched stitching again. She cupped his cheek with her hand, thumb instinctively tracing the vallaslin that curled around his chin. Raising his gaze towards her, she smiled sweetly at him. “Because I’m not going anywhere.” At that, she could see the last of his resistance crumble away as he leaned into her touch, his eyes flickering to hers. The sheer unguarded affection she saw in them was almost enough to take her breath away.
“Alright,” he said softly, a shy but genuine smile on his lips. “I should know better by now than to argue with you.”
“Yes, you should,” Leliana agreed cheekily. “Now, hand me your stiletto so I can undo this nightmare you’ve made of your arm.” Leo quickly unsheathed the thin blade he kept on him at all times, sharpened and ready. Leliana made a couple precise cuts of the string he’d so clumsily bound the gash with, before removing the strands as gently as she could. Despite her care, she could see Leo’s knuckles whitened as she pulled the stitches loose, though he obviously made an effort to make no sound of discomfort. Leliana wanted to tell him that she’d think no less of him for continuing to swear under his breath, but she decided to just leave him be and focus on finishing her work quickly. She picked up the needle and fed new string through it’s head, and then went to work stitching her friend up as cleanly as she could. A minute or two later, she poured a small amount of alcohol over her neatly finished stitches, Leo gritting his teeth but obviously relieved to have the ordeal over. As Leliana lightly ran a cloth over the raised flesh, she gave him a coy smile. “Well, I am glad that my old lessons did not go to w- mmm.”
She was cut off by Leo leaning forward to capture her lips with his. Despite the suddenness of it, the pair kissed languidly, Leo twining his right hand with Leliana’s left while her right slid up to hold his head. Her fingers wound through the soft black hair on the nape of his neck, and for a brief moment nothing existed in the world but them. When they finally broke apart, Leo leaned his forehead into hers, one of those hopelessly romantic gestures he often made that Leliana found unbearably cute.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you. I don’t really think I do,” Leo whispered, raising their joined hands to press a kiss to her knuckles. “But thank you. For everything.” Now it was Leliana’s turn to blush. Leo’s frank honesty frequently caught Leliana off guard, but it was one of the things she loved about him. She could feel her face suffused with warmth as she smiled at him, but it only made her want to smile more.
“At the very least, you deserve a better field medic than yourself.”
Leo laughed. “On that we agree.” He finally managed to pull his eyes off of the beautiful Orlesian, looking across the guttering fire at his erstwhile watch partner Sten, who had remained still as the night. Leliana yawned, suddenly remembering that she’d been about to go to sleep when she’d overheard Leo.
“Is your watch done soon?” she said meaningfully, glancing back at her tent. Leo looked like he was about to respond in the negative until Sten’s rough voice wafted over to them.
“You may retire if you so wish, Warden. I am capable of finishing the watch on my own.” Leo and Leliana quickly turned to each other, a look of intense surprise on both of their faces, before Leo walked over to where Sten sat vigil. Leliana watched the interaction, standing just in front of her tent flaps.
“Are you sure, Sten? You’ve no need to cover for me. I can finish the watch just fine.”
“I am sure. It would likely be safer for the camp, since your conversation masks the sounds of the forest, and you are obviously...distracted.” Leo solemnly laid a hand on the Qunari’s shoulder.
“Thank you, friend.” A grunt was all he received in reply, but Leo was sure it was meant as an affirmative. Turning on his heel, Leo strode over to join Leliana, pushing the tent flaps aside and entering the dim interior. “I’m going to buy that man a hundred cook- mmm.” This time, it was Leliana who silenced him with a kiss.