Why, aren't you sweet and attentive?
"Is there something you want?" The pretty red-haired asked. Pomello found herself lost for words, staring into her blue eyes and the elf stayed quiet for several minutes.
"Yes," she eventually blurted out, "I'm wondering if you could tell me again about that vision of yours?" Pomello could have bitten her tongue off. It was the fourth time she had asked Leliana to retell the story, there was just something about it that made the warden want to hear it again and again. And that voice, Leliana's pretty voice, that Orlesian accent. Pomello felt she could listen to it forever.
"Off course," Leliana replied and told Pomello the story again, not voicing any complaints. Pomello sat next to her, eyes closed and just listening.
"Have I ever told you that I really like your hair?" Leliana suddenly asked after she had finished telling the story, "it… really suits you."
"My h…hair?" Pomello stuttered, not finding any better words and puzzled at what the bard could find pretty about the black mess that framed her face, "it is just hair."
"Yes," Leliana said and smiled, "it is very nice, and simple. Not like the elaborate hairstyles of the women in Orlais…" and off the bard went again. Telling a story from her time in Orlais. Pomello smiled, and nodded, and tried to pay attention but it was difficult. All she could feel was her heart thudding in her chest and a little voice saying she likes your hair, she likes your hair, she likes your hair. The elf tried to shake her head, wondering why she felt so… ill. Maybe she was coming down with something. She barely had the presence to reply to Leliana when she finished the story about the woman who had worn live birds in her hair.
"But I was trying to say something nice to you wasn't I?" Leliana exclaimed and clasped her hands together, "you have to forgive me, my mind wanders so. It's just… I feel so comfortable talking to you, like I could say anything and you wouldn't judge me."
Pomello looked down on the ground, gathering courage.
"I," the elf eventually dared to say, "I actually like the way you ramble." Then she smiled a silly little smile and looked down on the ground again hoping that Leliana wouldn't notice how red her face had gotten, so clearly visible on her pale skin.
"See," Leliana said and tried to catch Pomello's gaze again, "this is what I mean. You're such a pleasure to talk to. I really enjoy your company. "
Pomello bit down on her lower lip, trying to read something else into Leliana's words. What was it that the bard meant? The elf was terrified to read too much into it, and stood speechless. Facing darkspawn was no problem, but make her talk to Leliana and she froze up.
"You're a treasured friend," she eventually said, her voice almost void of any emotion and then she left, leaving a very puzzled Leliana behind her.
Once in her tent Pomello yelled into the rolled up bundle of clothes that served as her pillow. What was wrong with her? She couldn't name these feelings that the bard was making her feel. Maybe she was truly ill and she would soon feel better?
:.:.:
She couldn't stay away off course. She could hear Leliana reciting the chant as she did every morning and as if the bard was a huge magnet she pulled Pomello to her. The chant had never meant anything to Pomello, not really. But when those words came from the bard's lips they got a new meaning, a dept. They were beautiful, alive. Pomello found herself mumbling the words together with Leliana while stumbling towards the woman. 'Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just. Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written.' Leliana smiled when she saw Pomello drawing closer and nodded, encouraging the elf to sing the chant with her. 'Oh Creator, see me kneel: For I walk only where You would bid me, stand only in places You have blessed, sing only the words You place in my throat.'
Pomello repeated the words with closed eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had never felt the words before; they came alive clad in Leliana's voice. 'My maker, know my heart. Take from me a life of sorrow. Lift me from a world of pain. Judge me worthy of Your endless pride."
Pomello opened her eyes and saw that Leliana had tears in her eyes too. The women looked at each other, no other words spoken between them than the chant. 'Maker, though the darkness comes upon me. I shall embrace the light, I shall weather the storm. I shall endure. What you have created, no one can tear asunder.'
"I shall endure," Pomello added again as Leliana grew quiet. Leliana smiled, as only she can smile.
"We shall endure," she said and nodded, "in one way or another, we shall endure."
"Together?" Pomello asked silently, not even knowing where the word came from.
"Always," Leliana answered and took her hand.
No other words were spoken between the women for several days, the fighting kept them busy. But they both knew that something had changed between them and it was only a matter of time before they talked again.
:.:.:.:.:
"I lied to you, you know," Leliana said suddenly a few days later, "about why I left Orlais."
Pomello looked at her, trying to search her face. She couldn't help but feel betrayed; they had talked so many times. Pomello had really thought they had trusted each other but now it seemed like Leliana hadn't just withheld information but lied.
"Why?" elf asked.
"It has nothing to do with you," the bard replied, "I didn't feel like talking about it then. What happened to me. Maybe it will affect us, maybe not but you should know. I came to Farelden and the Chantry because I was being hunted in Orlais."
And then she told Pomello the story. The more Leliana told her, the more Pomello had to clench her fists. When Leliana came to the point about being tortured and raped Pomello wanted to kill someone, really badly. She wanted to take the bard in her arms, tell her that she was safe now. Kiss away all the mental and physical scars. They could heal each other.
"You will be safe with me," Pomello said, trying to offer some form of comfort, "I won't let anyone hurt you."
"It feels good that have this off my chest. Thank you for listening and understanding." Then Leliana just left, leaving a raging Pomello. The elf looked to the sky, wishing dawn so they could go out and kill some darkspawn. She needed to fight.
Later, when she was lying in her lonely tent, staring into the dark nothing that Pomello reacted. Leliana had loved Marjolaine. And for the first time in her life Pomello felt the stinging stab of jealousy.
:.:.:.:.:
Pomello's jealousy only grew when she had the lying, betraying likes of Marjolaine in front of her. The elf felt ashamed that she couldn't focus on how terrible the woman had treated the bard she loved. Instead Pomello couldn't help but feel extremely inferior. What could Leliana ever see in her, when she had once been with this graceful and alluring woman? Pomello was an elf. A Fareldan one at that. A Fareldan elf with a bony body and messy black hair. Pomello woke up from her thoughts when Leliana suddenly launched forward to kill her betrayer.
:.:.:.:.:.:
The time crept by slowly for the champions and for Pomello. The elf tried to stay away for she felt like drowning when she was in the bard's presence. And that wasn't even the most frustrating part, what frustrated the elf was that she didn't even know what she wanted. She wanted Leliana, but she didn't know what that meant. She was inexperienced in the ways of love, and she kept having confusing eager dreams that left the warden even more bewildered. And bothered.
"Pomello," Leliana called out one night when the others were further away listening to some wild tale Zevran was telling.
"Yes," Pomello simply replied and walked over to her. The women weren't much interested in Zevran's tales anyway.
"I'm happy that the maker led me here you know, to you," the bard said and smiled shyly at the warden. Pomello swallowed but found her throat and mouth impossibly dry.
"I'm happy too," she replied.
"You don't know how it makes me feel to hear you say that," Leliana said happily but then continued in a more warm voice, "now it is getting late; I think I might turn in early. I keep thinking about how soft and warm my bedroll is."
Pomello's heart started beating so loudly the elf got worried that the bard could hear it. Her amber eyes seeking Leliana's blue ones. Pomello tried to talk but couldn't get any words out but Leliana, Andraste bless her, seemed to understand the internal conflict that was raging within her little elf friend.
"Leliana, I…" Pomello started but was interrupted by a wink from Leliana.
"You're welcome to join me off course, there is room for two." Then the bard grabbed the elf's hand and pulled her towards the tent.
Pomello couldn't help but tremble and felt grateful that at least Leliana knew what she was doing. In the limited space of the tent, the bard undressed her with such careful hands, kissing scars as they were revealed. Pomello tried to shield what she thought was a rather mediocre form but the adoration that shone from Leliana's eyes gave her courage to let go and put her arms at her soon-to-be-lover.
The elf swore to herself that she would never forget the feeling of Leliana on top of her, or the feeling of Leliana's hands on her, her fingers inside her. The elf tried to reciprocate and her clumsy tries, feeble as she thought they were, caused Leliana to gasp and clutch at her shoulders.
Afterwards the women lay, bare and vulnerable, together. Pomello couldn't help but smile into Leliana's hair.
"Should we sleep now, yes?" Leliana whispered, with her head resting on Pomello's chest, listening to the elf's heartbeat.
"Yeah," Pomello replied sleepily but then added; once again reciting the chant, "my hearth is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours."
Leliana giggled and added:
"For all who walk in the sight of the Maker are one."
