Against all odds, her Warden returned to her.
She marched down from the ramparts of Fort Drakon battered, bloodied and limping, with her shield nearly split in two and her blade dark with darkspawn blood, but alive. The shrieks of the dying Archdemon were still echoing in the air when Leliana laid eyes on her and her feet began to move without her mind's direction. She flew across the flagstones, leaping the bodies of fallen darkspawn and weaving between those of remaining comrades as she closed the distance between herself and her other half, awareness blurring around her. As she grew close, the Warden's eyes halted their scan of the crowd and locked on her face. A glint of white teeth split the dark grime coating her own. Her sword and shield dropped from her grip, forgotten, just in time to free her arms to catch Leliana's flying embrace.
"Hanalea," the bard gasped upon contact, breathless half from exertion and half from sheer giddy relief. "Hana, my love. Thank the Maker." She clutched tight to the Warden's shoulders as the warrior spun them around and couldn't quite stop the laugh that bubbled unexpectedly from her throat. "I can't believe—I'm so glad you're all right."
The Warden yanked off her helmet and let it fall beside her weapon so she could kiss Leliana unhindered, and the archer didn't even mind the blood and dirt mixed in (she supposed she should worry, since that may well be tainted blood, but that was a problem for later). She hooked her legs round the warrior's hips and let her support the extra weight as they lost themselves in the overwhelming excitement of being safe and together again.
The only thing that pulled them apart was the sudden realization that all was not well for everyone. The knowledge hit Leliana like a rock to the chest. If Hanalea was alive, that meant—
"Alistair," she said in dismay upon catching her breath.
Hanalea let out a heavy sigh and let the bard return to her own two feet. It was only then that Leliana noticed the distinctive interruptions in the dirt on her face—tear tracks. With a nod and downcast eyes, the Warden related, "He felt he had to. That it was his duty. He turned down all his chances to make a difference before, with the throne and with—with Morrigan. This was his way to atone. To do something monumental." Her voice broke on the last word, amid fresh tears. Leliana reached up to wipe them gently away. "I know it had to be one of us, but I thought—" She broke off, shaking her head, but Leliana understood her meaning.
"You thought it would be you," she finished.
Hana nodded once as if it hurt. "I'm nobody. I'm just some orphaned recruit Duncan scraped out of the ashes of Highever. Alistair was of royal blood. Why should I—" She broke off and sniffed violently to hold back more tears. It didn't work. "Why should I be the one to make it out alive?"
Leliana took the last Warden's dirty face in both hands and held her gaze firmly. "This was Alistair's choice," she insisted. "It is an awful, awful thing that the choice had to be made at all, but it is not your fault." Then she softened. "I know you will miss him. All of us will. But for whatever small comfort it is worth, he will be remembered a hero."
"He deserves it," Hana said weakly, leaning into her lover's palm, eyes sliding closed.
Leliana could hardly stand the storm of mingled grief and relief that tore at her insides. Relief, because she had thought without a doubt that she had lost her Warden forever, yet here she stood, warm and whole. Grief, because this relief should not have cost so high a price. The implications of today's sacrifice would affect the whole of Ferelden, herself and her companions not least included. Only time would tell whether such changes would be for better or worse.
She pulled Hanalea into her arms again and the two of them stood like an island amidst the carnage of the end of the fifth Blight. Doom had not taken them today, and for now that was enough for her. Whatever came next they would face together. As much as it might hurt now, Leliana knew that she and her Warden would endure—steadfast.
She brought her lips close to her lover's ear and whispered over the sounds of weary victory around them, "What next, my hero?"
Hanalea sighed deeply and let her brow come to rest against Leliana's. "I don't care," she rasped, then leaned in for a quick, steadying kiss, "as long as it's with you."
That, Leliana could manage.
…