Anais placed her arms under Alistair's armpits and pulled, dragging his barely conscious body from behind the alpha Hurlock that had almost killed them both. He was still breathing, thank the Maker, but his throat was making an awful noise, like the wheel of a cart over gravel.

"Wynne! Wynne please come!" Her own voice sounded strange to her. Broken . She was chocking with panick. "Wynne, dammit! Come on!"

She tried to wipe the filthy blood covering her eyes and face, making her eyelashes sticky, but there was a lot of blood in her hands aswell. Alistair's blood. Anais tried to lay him gently on the floor while Wynne approached as fast as she could, and the awful sound of his breathing made her stomach clench. He looked… bad. Even worse now under the pale blue glow of Wynne's healing magic. Red and white. Bad.

It struck her how much his face reminded her now to the faces of the people she'd lost at Highever. And there was a reason for that; she couldn't lose him, she couldn't stand the thought. Alistair was her comrade, her friend, her brother. If she lost him… no, don't think about it, he'll be fine. He'll be fine.

In the end, when his breathing became softer and more… natural, and Wynne told them that Alistair was safe, Anais discovered that the problem was that she was angry with him. True, he had saved her from the Hurlock, but in the process he had almost died himself.

"I could've handled it! I could've killed the damn thing, he didn't need to come to my rescue like I was some kind of defenseless five-year-old!" Anais kicked a stone with frustration and felt Leliana's arm around her waist. They had set camp as far as they could from the spot of the attack, considering Alistair's condition, and now the amn was resting in his tent. Anais felt the right thing to do in that moment was to kick as many stones as she could, but Leliana hadn't allowed her to do that alone.

"You are not a little girl, and he is not a little boy either. He came to your aid as your shield brother, and you know that. I owe him a great debt now," the bard said, taking Anais hand and leading her to a dead trunk where they could sit. "Hadn't it been for him… who knows what could've happened." She traced her finger along Anais' features.

Anais felt her stomach clenching and this time it was not because of Alistair's condition. A deep blush crept to her cheeks; her eyes, though reluctantly, met Leliana's. The last few weeks they had been… close, very close, and Anais had started to hope that maybe Leliana was returning what at first had seemed a stupid crush to her. When they were together Cousland felt light and safe, she smiled despite all the death and the tragedy she had to endure. When she was with Leliana -listening to her, watching her,- she felt her heart beating so loud she was surprised no one else had heard it. The mere fact of knowing she was beside her, even if she couldn't see her, was enough to calm her and excite her at the same time.

Leliana's fingers against her skin felt like the gentle touch of sunbeams in a cold winter day. Her lips were full and pink, they looked soft and warm. Her voice next to her ear… the warmth of fire.

"Don't worry, Anais. I am sure our brave warrior will be fine in no time."

She couldn't say anything else, no more words of comfort for the concerned grey warden. She couldn't because Anais had pulled her closer and was now kissing her. And Leliana kissed her back, ran a hand through her messy, dirty hair and didn't even care. Anais held her tighter, resisting the urge to scream with joy and celebrate.

I owe you a big one, Alistair.