Dragon Age: Origins

Sleepless

Morrigan could not stand Leliana. From her constant lectures of the Maker to her insistent complaints along the travels, she was the most annoying person Morrigan had ever met. However, in battle she was killer, striking her enemies with a sinister smile on her face. She let out battle cries loud enough to deafen and ran into danger as though she were a madwoman. It wouldn't have surprised the witch if she stripped off her clothes after a brutal battle and bathed in the blood of her kill.

She sat on the opposite side of the camp-fire, watching Leliana, trying to understand the girl with the boyish hair and the ever-moving mouth. How could she be one thing, then so suddenly another? How could she be kind and graceful, always praising the Maker above and praying whenever she saw fit, then change a moment later and become a beast with rage burning in her eyes as she loosened arrows into the enemies.

Something about the girl just didn't sit right with her, and she shifted uncomfortably as a cold wind blew. Was she afraid of her? No. Was she confused by her? Yes, very, and that alone made her want to have nothing to do with the Chantry lapdog. It was the split personality, the never-ending conversations she strove to begin, and the one-track mind that repelled all desires of a friendship.

Leliana looked up suddenly as though sensing that she was being watched. Her eyes widened for a moment with surprise as she spotted her watcher, then she smiled kindly.

Morrigan's stomach twisted and she scowled before pulling herself to her feet and striding towards her tent pitched deliberately away from the others. She left the strange girl to blabber on about useless things to their other companions. She didn't want to understand Leliana. She just wanted to be as far from her as possible where her annoying personality wouldn't bother her.

She had just reached her tent and was about to settle down when a voice came from behind her, a voice that was painfully familiar.

"Morrigan, was there something you wanted to discuss with me?"

The witch couldn't keep the anger from flaring inside. She spun around and faced Leliana who looked irritatingly innocent.

"'Tis my tent, my area, my space, and I am tired, so please go back to the camp-fire and leave me be," Morrigan snapped. "I have nothing to say to you, not tonight or any other night."

For a moment the bard looked shocked, then shook her head and sighed as though realising she had expected nothing different. "I'm sorry, but you were staring at me. I thought that perhaps there was something wrong... I should not have concerned myself."

"No, you shouldn't have!" Morrigan snapped. She turned to head into her tent, but as she did she noticed something that was a little off. Leliana had not been talking all night, not to anyone. It was such a rare occasion that she did not open her mouth and chat everyone half to death. In that moment of wonder, Leliana reached out and grasped the flap of the tent, holding it open.

"I am sorry, Morrigan," she said gently. "I don't mean to make you so angry. You understand that, don't you?"

"Just leave me be!"

"But I..." Leliana hesitated, then took a bold step closer. "I don't like fighting with you, Morrigan. I want to be... friends. I need you to let me in though. I can talk about other things that don't involve the Maker or the chantry. I can talk about... fighting, or jewellery. I know you like jewellery."

The witch turned completely to face the bard. "'Tis sadly amusing that you think I would want to talk to you about anything. I do not like you, bard, and the sooner you get that in your head, the better. It will save you a lot of heartache in the future."

"I'm trying really hard here!" Leliana cried, looking truly desperate.

"Which is exactly why this is so pitiful to listen to."

"Morrigan, please. Can't we just... start all of this again? I... don't like being hated."

Morrigan stared back at her, lost in confusion yet again. What was wrong with her? Why was she opening up like this? "Just let me go to bed, would you? That is the greatest gift you could honour me with." She snatched the tent flap from Leliana's hand and went to step into the tent, but Leliana's hand gripped her wrist.

Big mistake.

Morrigan struck without thought, her free hand sailing at the bard's face, electricity crackling between her fingers. She slammed her fist into Leliana's cheek and the magic cracked between them. Leliana stumbled back and fell to the ground in a cloud of dust as a blue light sparkling in the air around them, a result of the witch's attack.

Morrigan let out a long breath and reajusted her clothes. "Now I hope you have learnt your lesson, bard. I don't know what you want from me, but don't ever touch me again." She turned to stride into the tent, but there was no reply from the bard... and no movement. She froze and waited for a moment, waiting to hear a groan of pain at least.

Nothing.

She turned to her, an eyebrow raised. Damn it, tell me I didn't kill the moron. The others will never let me hear the end of it.

"Leliana, get up. I barely scathed you," she growled, looking nervously over at the camp-fire. The others were asleep. Good. Her attack had gone unnoticed.

Still Leliana made no movement. She lay there in the dirt, eyes clothes, cheek bright red.

Sighing, the witch walked over to her. She couldn't deny her thundering heart or her sweaty palms. Sure, she did not like the bard. In fact, she hated her, but that did not mean she wanted to see her dead. Maybe a broken arm or leg, or, even better, a broken jaw. Death, though, was a little extreme.

"Leliana?" She stood beside her. The bard drew breath, though it was slow and shallow. Morrigan nudged her side with her foot. No response. She bent down and snapped her her fingers in front of her face. Still nothing. Getting frustrated, she slapped her hand rather harshly against her cheek, the one that hadn't copped a handful of electricity.

The bard stirred.

Thank the Maker.

"M-Morrigan?" It was the first word that escaped Leliana's lips and she winced as she opened her eyes. She looked up at the witch and winced in pain. Her hand lifted slowly against her cheek. "What... happened?"

"I hit you." Morrigan was not ashamed of the truth. "You deserved it too, grabbing hold of me like that. I hope you've learned your lesson, now get up before the others think I have tried to kill you or something."

Leliana sat up with some difficulty without further assistance from Morrigan. She still had a hand to her cheek, but now the witch realised that the lightly burnt skin was not the only clear problem. Dark lines ringed the bard's eyes and despite the red mark she looked too pale to be healthy.

"You haven't been sleeping," she pointed out. She knew the signs all too well.

The bard turned away, embarassed. "You're right, I haven't been sleeping."

Morrigan waited a moment for the reason, and when it didn't come she huffed and headed back towards her tent. "I've no desire to waste anymore time with you tonight. Go to bed before you make a bad mistake again."

"Then you regret striking at me?" Leliana was on her feet, and though she could barely stay standing, she managed, watching Morrigan with her eyes sparkling.

"I..." The witch struggled for the words. "I do not think it matters whether I regret my actions or not. You live, and that is that." She would not humour her further by admitting the truth, for the words Leliana clearly wanted to her were "Yes, I regretted it so much. Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I will never strike at you again!" Well that was not going to happen, and Morrigan was in no moon to find out what drove the girl or why she lacked sleep. She entered her tent without another word or a backward glance.

She lay in her bed, the blankets pulled over her, the night-time noises her only company as she lay awake hours later. Leliana had moved back to the fire. Morrigan had checked to make sure she didn't collapse again, for the lack of sleep was more the reason than her electrifying punishment. She couldn't help it. Something compelled her to make sure the bard did not end up on her arse again to be dragged off in the night. Perhaps it was for the same reason why she had panicked when she had hit her: She didn't want her to die, no matter how painful she was.

Why does she make me act so soft? She asked herself that again and again. She brings out the worst in me, that girl... but I still watch her and try to figure her out even though I don't care. Why is this? What is wrong with me? Fury raged in her and she tossed and turned, trying to find sleep in different positions on her bed. Nothing could drag her into the darkness though. It wasn't until the sun rose that she finally drifted off, however her dreams lingered on Leliana.

She couldn't help but think of the red-haired bard.

"Charge!" Elissa Cousland roared, her thick broadsword brandished in the air as she gave the command.

Alistair, the second annoying loud-mouth of the group, rose up to the expectations and dove for the nearest darkspawn, driving his sword deep and accurately into its hollowed heart.

An arrow sailed overhead and struck another tainted man, spearing through his throat. He slid to his knees, gurgled out a breath, then collapsed onto his stomach.

Morrigan followed the trail the arrow had torn through the disturbed wind and rested her eyes on Leliana, standing tall at the edge of a tree, her bow held tightly in her hands, her face white apart from the remaining mark. She was struggling this morning. Another sleepless night had left her weak, but her aim was still impressive.

Elissa and Alistair ran ahead like two hot-headed twits, the lust for blood and competition burning in them. They disappeared into the undergrowth of the wood and all that remained was the witch and the bard.

Morrigan never fought to catch up. She always lagged behind, knowing full well that the Wardens could handle things on their own. She rathered to revel in nature, remembering the days when she was an animal, free and wild, running with the pack or following an unfamiliar scent that had her heightened instincts interested.

However, this time she did not desire to linger. Not with Leliana.

As she hurried on, the bard called out to her. She ignored and persisted, her steps faster, but unfortunately Leliana still had a spring in her step and came racing after to catch up.

"Morrigan," she panted, sweat coating her whitened face. "For last night... I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"And which part of that episode you referring to?" Morrigan asked smartly. "When you grabbed me around the wrist or when you practically crawled after me, asking me ridiculous questions?"

Leliana would have looked offended if she trusted herself to express her emotion without collapsing again. Instead she kept her face passive and spoke as clearly as she could through her struggled breaths. "I... I suppose for all of it... but especially for asking you if you regretted hitting me."

Morrigan's steps sped up. She was suddenly nervous.

"Anyway," Leliana continued, beginning to slip behind. "I, uh... wanted to tell you why I haven't been sleeping."

"Save it," Morrigan warned. "I don't want to know because I don't care. How's that for honesty?"

Pain filled Leliana's eyes. "You... can't mean that. You were worried for me, weren't you?"

Here we go again. What does she expect me to say? Morrigan thought, turning to the bard, ready to yell and scream, but she froze. Behind the bard was a darkspawn, one that had managed to escape the two idiot Wardens who were carving up a storm ahead. It had its short sword poised and ready to stab into the bard.

Morrigan acted again without a single thought. She ran at Leliana who's eyes became as round as orbs and tacked her to the ground. The sword struck the air above them and Morrigan grasped the darkspawn's foot, pulling him to the ground. She called down a great bolt of thunder as it kicked and tried to find its footing again. It was struck by the current and began to seizure as its flesh burned.

The witch released a large breath and straightened up, pulling herself away from the bard. Her cheeks were burning red as her hands brushed Leliana's chest and her blood pounded in her ears. What is this feeling? She shook her head free of it and looked down at her companion, only to have her blood turn to ice.

Leliana's eyes were closed.

"L-Leliana?" Morrigan stuttered. She cleared her throat, pulling herself together. "Fainted again, have you? How many times do I have to slap you?" She brought her palm hard against her cheek again, the crack enough to make her grimace, but this time Leliana remained as she was.

Andraste give me strength.

She bent closer over her and shook her shoulders roughly. "Leliana, don't do this to me now! I will leave you behind you pain in the arse!"

What if she doesn't wake? What if its worse than it appears? Morrigan studied her. She was breathing, but she was so still. So frighteningly still.

"Fine then, you asked for it bard." Morrigan, fighting back the terrifying thoughts, gripped Leliana's arm tightly and forced a wave of pain into her. The spell was a simple one, one of the first Flemeth had taught her. It made the victim feel a burning sensation through their veins as though their blood had turned to fire. It was painful, so painful that many of them fell onto their own swords to escape it. She only hoped it could revive the irritating, annoying, infuriating girl that she couldn't help but worry for.

Leliana's back arched and her face twisted in agony. She settled again as Morrigan released the spell and slowly her eyes began to quiver.

"M...Morri... gan?"

The witch sighed and sat back heavily, tired from the spell. "'Tis me, the heroine of the day. A statue should be built in my honour. How many people would feel the sharp cut of guilt knowing that I used my powerful, dangerous, murderous spells to rescue one of their precious chantry servants?"

For once, Leliana didn't look insulted by the insult. She raked a hand through her hair and released a long breath. "You saved my life. I would have been skewered, but you saved me, and you brought me back as well." She pulled herself closer to the witch, fearlessness, even daring shining in her eyes. "Morrigan, do you know what keeps me awake?"

Morrigan was out of her comfort zone. Way out. Yet she was compelled to pull herself closer, to listen and learn the truth. "Tell me," she breathed. "Tell me what it is that leaves me to clean up its mess."

The bitter tease made Leliana smile, and she came forward another inch. "Its you, Morrigan. You keep me awake. I think of you all the time, and at night I watch you watching me, and I can't control myself. I can't stop these storms inside of me." She closed the distance before Morrigan could react and brought her lips to the witch's.

Morrigan had never expected a kiss from any member of the group and had silently been willing them to run into a soul that may bring her the nights desire she wanted, but Leliana? As the bard kissed her, Morrigan became aware of the truth. It was this bard, this annoying, irritating, unbelievable, persistent, babbling bard that had seized her heart and made her feel emotions that she never thought she would again.

In one afternoon it all made sense.

Leliana's lips were sweet, as sweet as her singing as as her voice, and every reason Morrigan had to hate her melted away. She pulled apart from the bard and gripped her shoulders lightly. "Leliana, if we allow this to happen between us, does that mean I have to be nice to you?"

Leliana laughed, the sound ringing through the trees. "You know what, Morrigan. I think I will miss the jibes, but then again, all I want is to have your heart beating with mine."

Relief washed through Morrigan. She could still be a bitch as much as she wanted as long as the bard had her heart. "Too easy," she muttered, her hand caressing Leliana's burnt cheek softly. "After all, you already have it."

They moulded together on nature's floor, holding each other as the wind blew over them, and their hearts beat together as one. Electricity surged through Morrigan, but it did not harm either her or the bard. It was her magic reacting to the love that raged between them, and she let it surround them like a ribbon holding them together.

Some time later Elissa and Alistair would come back for them and would be in for a heck of a shock seeing them walking hand in hand, but as usual Leliana would hide behind that innocent smile and Morrigan would threaten to raise hell.

Things would remain the same, only with the crackle of electricity in the air as Morrigan and Leliana walked side by side.