A/N: for Raven Sinead's birthday, I asked her what she would like me to commission as a present since she lives a few states away. She asked for a Leliana/Cassandra established romance where Leliana gets hurt and Cassandra goes through absolute hell. Well, maybe she did not want (quite) absolute hell…XD After such a scare, it is hard for Cassandra to let Leliana do anything potentially dangerous. For time constraints and also to make it an easier read, I am breaking this up into chapters. It was a good idea and to make up for how darn late this is, I wanted to make it extra long. Happy birthday again, dear Raven, and cheers to another year of knowing such a wonderful woman!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or its wonderful characters. If I did, I would probably propose to Leliana. Yep, I would totally marry a pixelated character. Far less drama than the guys I date XD

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"Leliana!" Cassandra screamed until her voice cracked, the vocal cords strained to the max from all the yelling the battle had incited. The stalwart warrior threw down her shield and ran headlong at the hooded assassin who had struck Leliana between the ribs.

"You bastard!" The assassin threw himself back desperately, trying valiantly to avoid the enraged woman's blade. But Cassandra, already adept with handling a sword, was in a state similar to that of a Reaver. She pushed forward, a snarl marring her handsome face. The large blade cut deeply into the man's chest, gouging out a chunk of flesh and a river of red bursting forth. A scream gurgled out of agonized lips; the hood fell back, exposing a face that had not seen the sun in many years and electric blues that had darkened in pain. The man, or boy rather, looked no older than eighteen seasons. Cassandra felt no pity for the boy. Not now.

The boy sank to his knees, dirt and blood intermixing beneath his dark trousers. He stared beseechingly at the warrior, unkempt dark hair clinging to his swear-slicked skin. "M-m-mercy, I b-beg you, ser!" His voice was deep but a hairsbreadth away from a baritone. He twitched as pain lanced through his chest wound, blood spilling over his lips. The muscles spasmed as death took hold, clinging onto the boy and not intending to let go. All he wanted now was a reprieve from the pain; relief. A release.

"What is your name, boy?" Cassandra barked, amber eyes colder than ice.

He swallowed. "C-Clarke, ser. Please…"

Cassandra looked deep into pained blue eyes, not looking away even when he focused on her. She wiped her blade on the grass, sheathing it quickly. "Go to the Void, Clarke. I hope you rot in it."

Cassandra walked away from the assassin, listening as he reached out his hands to her in supplication. His thick sobs were choked by the blood still steadily pouring from his mouth. Good riddance to him; Cassandra had better things to attend to. Leliana…

The spymaster was clutching her side hard, a grimace of pain twisting her beautiful features. Those cerulean orbs Cassandra drowned in every day were closed tight, a furrow bisecting the area of flawless skin between her brows. Strands the color of a blazing hearth in winter clumped together in moist tendrils about the face growing paler with every second. Cassandra rushed forward, sprinting the last inch and grabbing the woman right before she collapsed.

Even with Leliana's dead weight, she weighed nothing in the strong arms of the warrior. Cassandra held the red-head to her chest, her heart pounding as fear took control of her motions and made them frenzied and mired in jerking movements. She turned her face towards Dorian who was dispatching the last enemy.

"Dorian! I need assistance!"

The mage turned his head, eyes widening as he took in the unconscious red-head. He ran over, smoothly taking Leliana from her arms and gently settling her on the ground. His fingers slid over her neck, looking for her elusive pulse. A look of intense concentration crossed his face, smothering the humor and sarcasm that usually covered him like a blanket.

"She is breathing but only just. We have to stabilize her now. Our spymaster will not survive the trek back to camp otherwise."

Cassandra nodded frantically, cinnamon swirls focused on the pale face of her beloved. A knot had settled in her chest and fear was clouding all rationality. Footsteps racing signaled the approach of the rest of the group. The Inquisitor stopped at Cassandra's side, gauntlet-covered hands tearing off the Grey Warden helm previously covering up her face.

"Maker's breath! What happened to Leliana?!"

"An assassin stuck her with his blade. I am not certain but he may have had poison on it. Many assassins are known for that particular trick."

A shadow passed Evelyn's face. Her short light gray hair covered her face, many years younger than a woman with that shade of hair should be. Her blue eyes took in every inch of her injured friend, worry assaulting her as surely as her warrior companion.

"Damn the Venatori, ambushing us like that! How did they find out we were traveling to Val Royeaux?"

"Perhaps it was just coincidence that brought us together. Whatever the case, Leliana is our top priority. We must save her!"

The Inquisitor turned to Dorian, blue eyes determined. "What do you need to help her?"

Dorian kept his hand on Leliana's wound, her life essence flowing between his tan fingers. "I need cloth to wrap around her wound. I am almost positive the blade was covered in poison. I could heal the wound but my magic cannot remove the poison. If I heal the wound but keep the poison inside her…she would die either way. Our best bet is to stop the flow and head to the nearest camp as soon as possible. Leliana will not make it back to Skyhold otherwise."

Evelyn shouldered her shield and sheathed her blade. "Then that is what we shall do. The warrior grasped the edge of her luxurious steel blue coat, ripping a large chunk of the fabric. She offered it the mage, completely unconcerned about the now ruined coat which had been a one-of-a-kind creation.

Dorian accepted the soft cloth with a small smile of thanks. Quickly, his fingers went about unfastening Leliana's armor, leaving the woman clothed in soft cotton instead. He lifted the material up and away, revealing a wide swath of smooth, pale skin. Blood smeared all across her stomach and chest, marring the beautiful flesh. A raised scar cut across the side of her stomach and swirled around to her back. Dorian was quiet at the reveal; it explained her behavior since Dorian had known the woman. Obviously she had been abused. The ugly wound had not healed quite right, and the mage would bet his earnings in the last game of Wicked Grace that more of the scars would be on the spymaster's back.

He turned his attention to her new wound, a critical eye focused on the rather deep stab wound, red blood mixing with a curious yellowish-green substance. Poison. Dorian was not well-versed in alchemy or potions, but there was a guard posted at the closest camp in the vicinity. However, this was still a good sixty miles away. The trip would take three hours at least on horseback, and the mage was worried that Leliana would not make it by then. But he also knew that his healing skills could only go so far. Making up his mind, he nodded grimly to himself. He would make it to where she had the best chances possible with surviving the journey, and then…she was in the Maker's hands. For her sake, he hoped that the Maker was a merciful deity.

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Cassandra paced back and forth, her nerves bouncing around excitably and her stomach somewhere down by her knees. Dorian had forced the seeker to move a couple feet away; the hovering was not doing him any good, he said, and was breaking his concentration. He had not been without pity or remorse, but even though her heart loathed being away from Leliana…Cassandra knew she was only hindering the process.

Evelyn stood beside Dorian, remaining calm despite also being worried. Leliana had become almost like a sister to her in the months since she had donned the title of Inquisitor. The beauty had come across as rather cold in the beginning, a far cry from Josephine. Evelyn remembered quite vividly the veiled threats Leliana had leveled at her when she deemed the Inquisitor's blue eyes to be focused on the Antivan far too often to be of a mere comrade situation. Leliana had interrogated the warrior like a pro, putting Josephine's parents to shame. However, Evelyn had assured quite fervently that all she wanted was to catch Josephine's eye; Evelyn was in it for the long haul and hoped that the beautiful diplomat was interested too. It turned out the feeling was definitely mutual, and Leliana was one of their strongest supporters. Cassandra had been thrilled as well, seeing as how the four of them were as close as you could get without being of the same blood.

The Seeker and her Nightingale had been dating since before the Inquisition started. Cassandra had offered up that tidbit but only after Evelyn had caught the two in an embrace. Honestly, if Evelyn had not seen them together she doubted a relationship between the women would even have existed in her mind. Leliana was incredibly private seeing as her occupation involved a certain degree of mystery and deception, and Cassandra was open and honest to a fault. They should not mesh together but after the small displays Evelyn was fortunate to be privy to, she knew the bond of love betwixt them was stronger than steel. Evelyn could only hope the flame was not extinguished before it could truly hit its zenith.

The warrior watched with fascination as Dorian knelt over the unconscious woman, hands glowing a curious blue color that rivaled her own eye color. His fingers moved slowly over the affected area, almost a caress as he tried his best to fix enough of the wound to transport her safely to an area better equipped for her needs. The man had already washed out the wound with boiling hot water, trying to clean out as much of the possible poison as possible. An antidote would be administered when they got to camp but until then she needed to stop the spread of the toxins.

Evelyn glanced over to the last companion of their entourage. Bull was standing watch, his massive battle-axe slung over one shoulder as he fixated all his attention to the west. Magic and healing was beyond his comprehension; he knew he would just slow down the process. So he had elected to keep an eye out for more trouble while his own paramour tried to save Leliana's life. Evelyn believed Bull's very presence was helping to calm Dorian's frayed nerves. Without the mercenary there, she feared Dorian would break under the pressure and strain.

The wound was not the worst Evelyn had seen in her tenure, but neither was it a pretty sight. The dagger had been serrated, making the wound jagged and altogether a pain in the ass. Not to mention the blade had gone in pretty deep, which worried Evelyn. If indeed there was poison, which they were pretty sure about, it was getting into her tissue and bloodstream. Their only hope now was the poison used was a lesser one. No poison was good, but there were varying degrees of potency. Unfortunately, there were no survivors of the assassins. The one Cassandra had left to die had passed a minute after she had walked off, dead from his own blood.

That in itself was a testament to the stoic woman's inner turmoil. Cassandra was a fair and just warrior, never letting enemies suffer if she could help it. She was not one for revenge or even letting bygones be bygones. Sure, she could lose her temper at times and a fierceness only Andraste herself could match would wreak havoc upon her intended, but Cassandra could usually control herself. Evelyn had seen her temper flare only a few times in her tenure; when Chancellor Roderick challenged her in the beginning, calling for Evelyn's own imprisonment, and again when she learned of Varric's deception of Hawke's whereabouts. River Hawke herself, even being the jokester that he was, had paled a bit when she heard about that. She had told Varric he had the biggest set she had ever seen. Cassandra's fiery side had also reared its head when Daniel had been found ate up with red lyrium in the quest for Lord Seeker Lucius. Cassandra had landed the killing blow herself, stabbing the man in the chest and coldly gazing into his eyes as he stole his last breath. The man had made a mockery of the seekers, and led to the near destruction of the templars. Evelyn herself, staunch mage supporter as she was, had been furious when she looked at the atrocities done to the templars in Emprise Du Lion.

Evelyn knew after this was all said and done, after Leliana was okay again and safely in her arms, the seeker would be guilt-ridden of the boy she had let die. It would not necessarily keep her up at night as his death was a necessary evil and due to his own devices in life, but that did not mean the agony he endured would not needle at her conscience. The Inquisitor was just glad Josephine had not made the pilgrimage with them this time. The sweet woman would be out of her mind right now, wringing her hands and covering that pretty face with wet tears. Evelyn was trying so hard to be strong and if she saw her beloved break down…well, she could not be the leader her team needed.

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It seemed like hours to Cassandra but in truth was not even a full hour. She had tried to keep her eyes strictly on the horizon before her and not look back, but she found herself increasingly turning towards Leliana, her hands itching to reach out and grab her. Cassandra needed to feel her, needed to see if her heart was still beating, if it still matched the tempo of her own. That was a joke between the former bard and herself: Leliana always said her heart beat in time with Cassandra's, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

"How can your heart beat with mine, silly girl? You mean to tell me if I exercise and my heart is beating fast, yours if you were still would match?" Leliana smiled, her perfect teeth on full display as a softness appeared in her eyes. "Yes, Cassandra. My heart would always know yours. Have you ever heard of star-crossed lovers? I am sure you have, reading those stories you love so much." The red-head chuckled as Cassandra blushed to her roots. "My heart will always beat in sync with yours, because your heart is all I will ever know. You are the only thing my heart beats for."

Leliana was always so sure of their relationship, even when Cassandra herself had her doubts. Cassandra had been the Right Hand of the Divine for a long time, longer than Leliana had commandeered the Left. Cassandra had been so unapproachable in the beginning, having closed herself off to romance after the disastrous attempt she had made with Galyan. She had given herself to him, body and mind, but she could never give him her soul. He was a mage, and she was a Seeker. Unfortunately, those two did not mesh well and would have been terrible if the relationship had been outed to the public. They had kept it under wraps for that very reason, and also because they wanted time to let the fledgling romance ignite. It never quite met the quota, not like Leliana had. Galyan was a wonderful man and friend but as a lover…it was doomed from the start. He had finally found his match, his other, when both he and Aeria had been killed at the Conclave. Cassandra still mourned his loss, and what he could have had with Aeria had they not perished. Aeria was a beautiful and kind mage who had tried for peace between the warring factions. In the end, her kindness and non-confrontational attitude had ended in her death.

Love was never on the menu, at least not at that moment and certainly not with Leliana. But the woman had this infuriating way of wiggling into your heart, claiming it as surely as a demon from the Fade. Cassandra had not stood a chance, her secret longing for romance and love being fulfilled by her very companion. A grudging partnership manifested into a working relationship, then blossomed into a friendship that slowly changed to love. Now, Cassandra could not imagine her life without the redhead and it was killing her to stand here and wait impatiently for Dorian to fix her enough for them to leave. There was only one outcome of this that Cassandra could handle, and she prayed to the Maker that it would come to pass.

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