Their relationship had been interrupted at the worst possible time. Well, honestly, it was their relationship which had gotten in the way of the Blight, and not the other way around. The battle with the Archdemon had seemed like a vague, distant possibility, and Natia thought she had all the time in the world. She and Leliana shared their first kiss just outside the gates of Denerim, the day before the Landsmeet. Only days later they were marching to battle, and after their great victory Leliana announced her departure, it seemed to Natia, very out of the blue.

Looking back, Natia cringed to think of her stuttering, awkward love confession, a desperate ploy to convince Leliana not to leave. For a long time, she thought she had been grasping and that her desperation had only driven Leliana farther away. Which is why she was surprised to recognize her scrawling, elaborate hand on a letter in her correspondence pile. There was no mistaking the long flourishing loops. The letter was not addressed to the Warden Commander, but instead bore her given name only.

Natia picked up the letter and turned it over and over in her hands, unopened. The paper was very fine, folded over and sealed with dark red wax, impressed with a seal she did not recognize. She lifted it to her face and instantly recognized the familiar scent of Andraste's grace, Leliana's favorite flower. She pulled out her pen knife and slid it, slowly and with infinite care, between the enveloping folds. The wax seal popped off and the vellum came unfolded in her hands. 'Dearest,' it said, and at the bottom was signed her name, the capital L sprawling in loops across the bottom of the page.

She felt her mouth splitting into the widest smile, and her face grew warm. Glancing right and left to make sure of her privacy, Natia lifted the letter to her lips and kissed the name at the bottom. If she could not kiss her face, this was surely the next best thing.