So, I originally posted this one my Tumblr account: herald-divine-hell. If you want to read so more fanfics about this couple you can go there, if you wish. This may be a little rusty since it's been a while since I wrote a fanfic about this couple, but someone requested it, and it was so cute that I had to instantly write it.
Three Simple Words
By: Restitutor_Orbis
Based on: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Prompt/Request: "Dunno if you're still willing to take prompts, but could you do one where the Inquisitor and Leliana are together, but they're scared saying 'I love you' will push the spymaster away (because we all know how aloof she can be). So when those three little words slip out? PANIC. Quick reassurances that "it was nothing" or that "you don't have to say anything." Poor Inquisitor just desperately wants her to stay, not because they're holding her back, but because she wants to."
I love you.
How three, simple words conveyed so much in such few shorts of breaths was incessable and fascinating to the Inquisitor. She had heard the words before, from her mother and father, but never from a lover. It was far too sacred to be used on such a whim, even if the heart would have said otherwise.
The Inquisitor never heard it from Leliana. There was no need since they were capable of showing their affection in other ways. Three simple words should not have held such power, but the thought of Leliana saying it, whispering it, had made her insides become mushy, and her heart to flutter in ways that fighting and magic never was capable of.
Leliana ran her fingers through the Inquisitor's hair, humming gently an Orlesian tone that the Inquisitor was familiar with. They were reclining on the Inquisitor's couch, far from the duty-filled chamber of the War Room. "You are exhausted," Leliana said, more as a statement than a question; but it was true. Administrating an entire organization bent on saving the world from an ancient magister who had an over the top, god complex typically led to people feeling more than fatigue once the day is over.
The Inquisitor smiled grimly. "Am I that easy to read?"
Leliana hummed. "For me, yes. To others, it is slightly more difficult no doubt. Your mask is slowly getting harder to decipher, I will grant you that."
"You always did know how to read me."
Leliana grinned a grin that made the Inquisitor's heart race and her pulse quicken. "I know more than simply reading you." A finger traced up the Inquisitor's arm, and she swallowed, cheeks warming considerably.
"You're terrible, Leli."
"You would not have tried to seduce me if I was not."
The Inquisitor laughed: a true, genuine one. It was far too long since she was capable of performing such a feat. The destruction at Haven and the fall at Adamant weighed heavily in her mind. "That's accurate." She grinned. "I always love a good challenge."
There it was. A simple sentence had revealed more of the Inquisitor's cards. If Leliana had noticed her small metaphor, she did not comment on it. Knowing her, however, the Inquisitor knew that she did.
"Who does not?" Leliana joked. The day was slowly coming to a close, the skies of Thedas grew into a soft, melted velvet, shimmering with pearly-white flames.
It was during the night when the Inquisitor had a chance of tranquility. Her room placed her further away from the action of rulership, and she did not know if that was a good or bad thing. It was fine with her, she had Leliana there to keep her company, and the spymaster was more than enough, definitely.
"Will you be heading to Emprise du Lion tomorrow?" Leliana questioned, relishing the softness of the Inquisitor's hair, enjoying how the golden-red light of the fireplace lit her face into an ethereal glow. These moments grew so few and far between these days, the growing prominence of the Inquisition after their narrow escape had gained the attention of the nobles of Thedas, requiring the Inquisitor's full energy to be able to keep up. Leliana had reminded her that Josephine was fully capable of her duties, but the Inquisitor had simply scoffed and said that she would be remiss if she allowed her Chief Diplomat to suffer at the dry stories of the Orlesian and Fereldens. Leliana believed that the Inquisitor secretly enjoy the power that she wielded over the nobles; their fear, awe, and not-so-subtle desire were intoxicating, Leliana knew that.
The Inquisitor sighed. "Yes. I would have preferred if I was allowed a few moments of rest, but alas, the world is never patient with their heroes." She glanced up at Leliana, smiling softly. "I wish not to leave you, my nightingale. I just have only returned from the Emerald Groves, but I-"
Leliana placed a slender digit over the Inquisitor's mouth. "Do not apologize, Inquisitor. You have your duties; and though I dislike it, I must share you with the world."
"I don't get a say?"
Leliana smiled, teasingly, and the spymaster looked so much more beautiful when she smiled. "Of course not."
A giggle passed through the Inquisitor's lips, and she felt the Inquisitor's lips pulled into a small grin against Leliana's finger. They were so soft…
"Just," Leliana said, a growing fear that always appeared these days whenever the Inquisitor left for her adventures, "please be safe. I understand it is hard for you, but-"
I'm afraid to lose you. Leliana wanted to say. I'm afraid to lose that smile, those shimmering eyes, your light. I'm afraid to be left alone in the world again.
Instead, she said, "the Inquisition needs you, as do I.
The Inquisitor hummed, raised a slender hand to Leliana's own and brought the spymaster's knuckles to her lips, grazing her soft lips against it. "I promise I will return to you."
It was the same promise that the Inquisitor swore after Redcliffe, to the broken Leliana, and then to her Leliana in the present time. It was a promise that she swore annually, and she had kept it so far, even after the Fade.
It had happened before the Inquisitor could have stopped herself, and she wondered if she even wanted that. "I love you."
The room fell silent, dead almost, besides the flickering and churning of the flames. Leliana's face was covered in shadow, and the Inquisitor could not read her eyes. She often could not, anyways, but the silence unnerved her, reminded her of the corpse that was Leliana during Redcliffe. No, she thought. That one was dead, empty, and walking corpse; filled with such bitterness and hatred. My Leliana is life itself, burning with hidden passion. Alluring and eternal. She is fire, while that one was ice. Cold, distant. Almost like Leliana when I first meet her. She pushed that thought away and raised herself from the lap of her spymaster. Leliana had come so far since their first encounter. There was slight bitterness, the lingering of self-hatred and contempt, perhaps that will never go away, but she was far more lively, around the Inquisitor that is. She trusted the Inquisitor, they even shared the same bed, felt each other's curves mold into one, their heartbeats synchronizing into a gentle melody. The Inquisitor did not want to lose that: the spymaster's trust. It was too precious, and that is why she kept herself from uttering those words, to swearing her undying affection. To confess and reveal all that she was to Leliana. To form an unspoken oath. Maker, why did she say it?
Did I go too far? She tugged her bottom lip. Her stomach turned and twisted this way and that. Did…did I ruin it?
"Leliana," she whispered, her fingers twitching to hold her. "Leliana, please, say something." Anything. The fear gripped and drove a sharpen knife through the heart, ever so slowly. She felt her cheeks tremble, a hollow feeling of dread engulfed her very being. Don't leave me. She felt hot tears prick her eyes, and she sniffed, holding them back. I am the Inquisitor. I have to be strong. She swallowed, glanced away from the woman that sat beside her, and towards the velvet purple sky. She felt like jumping off the balcony when she said, "It-" she swallowed, but it felt as if her heart had clogged her throat. "It was nothing." It was everything. "You don't have to say anything." Please, just say something. "I can escort you back to your chambers if you like." Please stay with me.
"You shouldn't have said that." Huh?
The Inquisitor whipped her head, staring bug-eyed at her spymaster, the light of her life. "Pardon?"
Leliana did not look at her, instead of resting her eyes on her hands. Her short, flaming red hair was lit by the flames, and the Inquisitor believed that she looked far more beautiful than any other thing in the world. "You…you should not have said that. It was…inappropriate."
The fear mixed with silent anger. "Inappropriate?" She questioned, and she felt hollow, weak, dead. "How is that inappropriate, Leliana?"
"Unnecessary, than. We are collegue-"
"You're making up excuses," the Inquisitor said, the quiet anger mixing with the fear and the dread.
Leliana looked up at her, and what the Inquisitor saw erased all the anger and dread in her heart and replaced with guilt. Tears plagued Leliana's eyes, and her lips trembled as if it was even worse for her to bare. "Inquisitor," her voice was thick with sadness. "We-I can't be what you want me to be." Her eyes, Maker, the Inquisitor could not pull away from her eyes. The flames lit it the blue orbs in a strange mixture, but they were filled with conflicted emotions: Sadness, happiness, anger, regret….guilt? "I want you to take back that statement, and used it for someone who is more deserving of it."
The Inquisitor laughed, bitterly, almost broken even. "I can't take it back-" she said, grinning, though her heart was seemingly ready to shatter.
"You must," Leliana insisted.
"Because person who I am looking at right now is deserving of that confession; of the oath. Of that promise." The Inquisitor took Leliana's hands into hers, and she felt her pulse quicken once more. They were so delicate but rough at the same time. She gently squeezed them. "Leliana, you are deserving of this world, deserving of all its affection, of its mercy, of its kindness. It wasn't Andraste who stopped Cassandra from tearing my head off during our first meeting. It wasn't Cassandra who insisted that we help the mages when no one else would. It wasn't-" She inhaled deeply, the memory of the demons that terror that woman apart in Redcliffe resurfaced with great haste. "It wasn't the Maker who saved me from Redcliffe, who gave me the urge to keeping fighting on It was you. The woman who I go for guidance, who - despite her best efforts - is soft, kind, and gentle beneath all that armor. If you want us to forget about this, forget about this relationship, if you desire a more professional correspondence between us I will happily grant you it, but I will never retract those words, nor will I ever apologize for saying them." She inhaled again, regaining her breath after that speech.
Leliana stared at her, eyes distant as if processing what the Inquisitor had stated. After a few moments of silence, the spymaster of the Inquisitor spoke, soft and gentle, "I don't know what to even say, Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor glanced away, not bearing the intensity of her spymaster's stare. "You don't have to say anything, Leliana," she said. "Y-you can go." Please stay. You're my strength.
"Good," was her reply, before she felt hands grip her face and lips coating against her own. The Inquisitor gasped, warmth spreading across her body like the anchor whenever if flared, but this was nice, tranquil even. Everything that was the Inquisitor and that was Leliana was pulled into that kiss: love, worry, happiness, fear. Fear of death, of losing the strength that they both gave themselves. Of losing that pleasant humming in their minds, the warmth in their hearts, the flipping of their stomachs. If they could, neither would have let go, staying together in each other's arms, far from the cries of war, it was blissful, but they were mortal, and life was never truly fair.
The Inquisitor was the one who pulled away first, though it took great effort to even do that. During that kiss, Leliana had somehow gotten onto of the Inquisitor's lap, and the leader of the Inquisition realized with a small blush coating her cheeks, both in embarrassment and in some other sort of feeling that one would dare say, love, that Leliana was a tad bit smaller than her. "Le-"
Leliana's eyes were fierce, the worry and sadness of before had been disrupted like lightning. "Promise me," she said, low and soft, her lips were so close to the Inquisitor's, "promise me like all your other promises that you will never have to say those words again. Promise me that you will never have to utter those words again if you keep coming back to me. If you promise that, those words would not compare to the sight of you coming back home, smiling, alive. That will be our 'I love you'. Promise me that."
The Inquisitor smiled slyly. It did not need to be a promise, because she would also return to Leliana, alive preferably, because she had a feeling that if she did die, her beloved spymaster would have crossed through the Veil just to kill her again.
"A promise worth keep, my nightingale," she said, "but promise me that you will stay. Tonight, and all other nights till our time in this world forces us to depart."
Leliana brought her head closer, her lips a mere breath away. "I promise."
I love you.