"You need a haircut."
Jowan grinned at the gently scolding tone of the comment. "What if I'm aiming for a ponytail?"
Leliana's hands smoothed over his shoulders, silent as she considered. "I think that would look dashing."
"Dashing?" he parroted, turning to face her with one eyebrow raised.
She giggled at his skepticism. "Like a hero from the legends, no? Unless... are you just teasing me?"
"Now, why would I do something like that?" He wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing the tip of her nose.
"I feel like I should be asking you that," she retorted, arms settling around his neck as she leaned in for a real kiss.
"Because it's fun," he whispered. "And I think we're due a little of that. But if you actually like the idea of me with a ponytail..."
Leliana nodded, resting her forehead against his. "It doesn't have to be a long one, but I do think I'd like that. You're more than halfway there already."
Jowan wrinkled his nose at the teasing note in her voice. "You are, as usual, right."
"Do you know what else I am right about?" she asked mischievously.
"What?"
"We're going to be late."
"And?"
She sighed in mock exasperation. "Well, I think Alistair would appreciate it if we were on time for his coronation, no? Also, tardiness in regards to state functions is considered very rude."
"Once again, I find myself unable to argue with your logic," Jowan corrected with a sigh of his own as he reluctantly let her go.
"Cheer up, cheri," Leliana giggled, giving him a final peck on the cheek as she stepped away. "There will be plenty of time later just for us, no?"
o.O.o
Plenty may have been the wrong word, she was forced to admit, as the coronation stretched into its second hour. The Grand Cleric did love to talk. Next to her, Jowan fidgeted slightly, running a finger under the fabric of the sling Wynne had insisted her use while his shoulder healed. Get some of the weight off the muscles, she had explained. The trade-off was it chafed the back of his neck and drove him crazy.
Leliana reached over and captured his hand in hers, shooting the mage a Fiddling will only make it worse look as she intertwined he fingers with his.
Jowan met her look with one of gratitude, and squeezed her hand as they tried to stay focused.
o.O.o
When they finally managed to escape the celebratory aftermath of Alistair's coronation, Jowan was in a much more solemn mood. He'd gotten Marta alone for just a few minutes; long enough for a hasty, basic answer to how Alistair had killed the archdemon and survived. Of all the explanations he'd thought he might hear, blood magic sex ritual with Morrigan wasn't even on the list.
Marta had chuckled wryly as she nudged his jaw closed with one finger. "People will stare." She further explained they hadn't said anything to him because "we figured you wouldn't want to do that to Leliana."
"We weren't a couple," he protested.
"Maybe not yet," had been the noblewoman's reply, paired with a parting grin. "But you could have fooled us." and she'd excused herself to go talk to her brother, leaving Jowan absolutely speechless.
"You alright, love?" Leliana asked, pulling him back to the moment.
"Hm? Fine," Jowan promised. "Just got lost in thought."
"I hear that can be dangerous," she said teasingly.
"Oh, very," he deadpanned, looping his arm around her neck and pulling her in to kiss the top of her head. "I should probably stop. Especially when the company is so good."
"Flatterer," Leliana blushed even as she rolled her eyes.
"Nope. Just honest." He released her and headed for his pack. "In fact, I have something to give you..."
Her eyes lit up when he pulled out his sketchbook. "What?"
"Here." Jowan carefully tugged the page free, hand shaking ever so slightly with nerves.
Leliana took the sheet of parchment eagerly. And nearly dropped it-along with her jaw-to the floor as it registered what she held. "This... you... how long did this take you?!"
Jowan shrugged. "I've been working on it a little bit at a time since Marta conscripted me. I wanted to make sure I got it right."
She looked at him skeptically. "I am not that pretty."
"First impressions are a powerful thing," he said simply, pressing a kiss to her temple. "And I draw what sticks with me."
Leliana shook her head and resumed staring at the sketch. "I just can't believe..." He watched her eyes trace the lines, the details of the armor, the curve of her bow, her hair cooperating better on paper than it ever had in real life. "Thank you!" Her arms circled his shoulders, carefully; mindful of both his injury and her gift, and she gave him a long, lingering kiss. "I love it! And you."
He smiled shyly and kissed her back. "I love you, too."
o.O.o
The parchment crinkled as she held it in her hands, the edges flaking slightly with age. Leliana sighed and lightly ran a fretful hand over the creases, trying in vain to smooth it out, before taking another sip of her wine. "I don't know how you do it," Justinia had said once, after she had summoned Leliana to be her Left Hand, "find the strength to be who you must." There were times Leliana would admit she didn't know either. Today was one of them, as the loneliness squeezed her heart with an ache she couldn't put into words.
The door creaked open behind her, and Leliana's brow creased in irritation.
"I said I wasn't to be disturbed," she groused, setting her goblet down hard. "Not even if Divine Victoria or the Inquisitor herself need me-"
"Surely you're willing to make some exceptions," a familiar-and dreadfully missed-voice commented close behind her. "After all, that's what friends are for, isn't it?"
Leliana's face split with the widest grin she'd worn in... well, since the last time they were together, as she pushed out of the chair with enough force she nearly knocked it over. She wheeled and lunged for a hug, her arms going around his neck heedless of armor, of the ponytail pinned between the crook of her elbow and the back of his neck, of grime, of everything.
The breath of Jowan's chuckle whisked across her cheek, and she heard his staff drop with a clatter as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Oh, Maker's breath, I missed you, Lel."
"I missed you more." Her words were muffled against the side of his neck before she pulled him into a kiss. "Where were you? I was worried sick, all through the mess with the Wardens. How did you avoid that?!"
He smiled and tweaked a lock of hair falling in her eyes. "Marta had me go with her and Nathaniel to search for a cure. I guess she figured since the Taint is in the blood, I might be able to help in a way no one else would."
"And?" Leliana prompted, her hands sliding to rest on his chest. "Did you?"
"Did what, I know something, or we find a cure for the Calling?" Jowan's eyes glinted mischievously, clearly aware of how much she'd missed him.
"Both. Either. You're safe, so I don't really care about the details," she admitted. For so long they'd been answering to separate masters, passing like ships in the night, stealing moments when they could and writing letters when they couldn't. (She had a boxful, all decorated with sketches of flowers and landscapes) She'd long since come to terms with the realities of loving a Grey Warden-including the Calling. She wasn't going anywhere, regardless of what he said now.
"Yes. And yes," he answered, grinning impishly as he hugged her just a little tighter. "It seems you're stuck with me, Sister Nightingale."
"Oh, no," she deadpanned, stealing a kiss as she settled her arms back around his neck. "What a terrible tragedy. Whatever shall we do?"
Jowan's grin widened and he kicked the door closed. "I have a few ideas..."
For the rest of the night, Leliana was very, very grateful she'd left orders not to be disturbed. And when she watched morning sun flit across Jowan's face as he slept, she realized that she finally felt at peace. And that?
That made it all worth it.
