The song, cheering and drink-induced singing that came from the celebration currently happening in the Royal Palace – and all of Denerim, truly – was instantly muffled as Leliana closed the big door which led to the sleeping quarters. As much as she was enjoying it all, she was also worried about the person whose name was on everyone's lips that night. Who also happened to be the one person missing from the party. Ella Cousland, daughter of the late Teyrn of Highever, sister of the current Teyrn, best friend of the new king of Ferelden, sister to the queen, and, more recently, the slayer of the archdemon. Being as well connected as she was, and considering that it was happening specifically to celebrate both the end of the Blight and the coronation of the new monarchs, her lack of presence in the festivities was starting to raise some eyebrows.

Nobles and their intrigue. Some things never change, no matter where you go.

So that's how the archer found herself walking down the hall that led to the rooms they were afforded, looking for the door that led to her and Ella's room, which is where she believed she had the best chance of finding the warrior. It wasn't very far from that wing's entrance and she had walked that particular way so many times before, when they were healing from that last battle, that she found herself staring at the now very familiar wooden door. Leliana opened the door as softly as she could manage, checking the inside of the room.

Ella was staring out of the window, shoulders slightly slumped, but her eyes weren't really watching the beautiful, golden, sunset, or listening to the joyous music coming from the entire city. She was far away.

The bard sighed. Her girlfriend had been like that ever since the archdemon's defeat. Not that she blamed her, the warden had seen and been through way too many things for a 24 year old who had barely known the world – the real world, not the admittedly gilded world of nobility – when she was conscripted into her order. But, even after the most trying of trials, Ella had never looked so empty, so far away.

"Mon coeur?"

She turned then, and smiled at her. Well, her lips smiled but her eyes told a very different, much sadder, story.

"Yes, love?"

"Your absence is…" Leliana trailed off then, measuring what she could say next that she hoped wouldn't make the woman in front of her retreat even more into herself. "being felt by some."

As aggravated sigh left the warden's lips as she turned her gaze back to the window, frowning slightly.

"And?"

Leliana took a tentative step forward, starting to extend her hand to her lover, but stopping mid gesture, letting her arm fall to her side. She was entering a very dangerous zone in this conversation and, if she didn't navigate it right, there was no telling how Ella would react. The last thing she wanted was to upset her even more. She didn't deserve any more of that. She never did.

"They claim they wish to see more of the" the redhead hesitated for a couple of beats, then braced herself and continued, keeping her voice soft and gentle "Hero of Ferelden."

Ella's shoulders tensed up at her newly acquired title, reminding Leliana of a coiled snake. However, that was the only reaction she seemed to have, which the bard counted as a victory. She crossed the room and sat on the bed, opening her mouth to speak, but quickly closing it as the other woman started talking.

"Hero of Ferelden" Ella repeated in her quiet voice, but any attentive listener could notice the bitter undertones carried by these three words. From the way she said it, one could assume it was a horrible curse. She turned around and finally fully faced her lover. "Who thought it'd be a good idea to call me" she emphasized the word, gesturing to herself, a flash of… something appearing on her face, but it was gone just as it appeared. "that?"

Her eyes. Oh maker, her eyes. They carried so much pain, the weight of the world in them. So many emotions flickered there, none of them pleasant. It made Leliana's heart ache.

This was the girl, no, the woman who saved them. Who saved all of Ferelden from both the Blight and the civil war, all under impossible odds.

But at what cost?

The maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, they say. As there is no sacrifice greater than theirs. And this warden may not have died killing the archdemon, but a part of her was dead nonetheless. Forcefully ripped from her, piece by piece, this past year.

And yet she'd endured. No one in their team had seen her shed a single tear during the whole time they traveled together, being, actually, the person they turned to share most of their own troubles and struggles. And she'd always done it with a smile, which, even if it was saddened and, truly, forced sometimes, was still a smile.

But even the strongest walls can be demolished. Every armor, no matter the material or origin, has its weak spots. Even the strongest chains have a weaker link. Even the biggest castles can be breached.

"My blade was in that thing's neck and it was gonna die, but then it shook me off. It was dying, Leli" she sat next to the aforementioned woman, her breathing irregular. "And I knew what was going to happen. It was dying. And then. And then" her voice failed. Leliana reached for Ella and pulled her on top of her, holding her close to her chest. The warden buried her face on it while the bard ran her fingers through brown hair. Maker, but she looked so small right now.

"And then she jumped between us just as it died" Her words were slightly muffled by Leliana's clothes, but the emotion and guilt in that broken sob were crystal clear.

And just as the walls can fall, the armors can fail to protect, the chains can break and the strongest castles can fall, so did the Warden Commander.