She was right; his body did provide certain warmth that a blanket couldn't give and he provided it often. Rowan's corded muscle would shift and pull while he set their bodies in the most delightful positions. Warm lips would travel over her pale skin, planting soft kisses and whispering heated sweet nothings on her slender neck and by her ear. Never selfish, she mused with a gasp, as he sought out to care for her needs as well as his own. Morrigan was pleased to find he was fine in those regards and a great partner, but his actions after had surprised her.

For their first time the Warden had left after they talked about the conditions of the relationship, but soon he began to linger.

Rowan Cousland was a powerful warrior, who commanded their small group fiercely and led the mismatched party with his great leadership and silver tongue, but she had not expected the man to enjoy being coddled as much as he did.

The blond male stood strong in the Kocari Wilds among Alistair and the other Grey Warden recruits, brushing off his companions fear and introducing himself with a strange formality in the wilds. Although then, he kept his expression plain, his lips were pursed in a constant frown, his eyebrows furrowed, with dark bags under his green eyes like he hadn't slept well in days.

But now, he was so different from the man she had met in the wilds. A smile came to him easily, most unlike the stoic man she had met. Where she had mocked Alistair for being a fool, she now suspected that her warden shared the same attributes as the former Templar. Rowan had a kindness that drove Morrigan insane; always the fool jumped at the chance of helping the unfortunate, and aiding with the most minimal task. Though, unlike Alistair, he showed signs of intelligence, when he acted strong and forced others to see his way and intimated that weak to follow or get out of the way.

On one evening after the two were spent, Rowan collapsed on top of her, his large frame warming her completely, her slender fingers traveled and traced over him, her thin nails scratching the warden's back in amusement, before she finally dropped them over his shoulders. Morrigan thought nothing of it until she felt his arms snake around her waist and was pulled in tightly into his arms his face nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

She lay dazed under him before promptly pushing off and urged him to get dressed and return to his tent before the night's chill set in. She could still see the hurt and puzzled expression on his face when he collected his tunic under his arm before stumbling back to the main camp. After that night, the two continued a strange stalemate when he joined her.

The Grey Wardens visits came more often after that, he would loiter in her camp, counting their expenses, studying the treaties, write of the days activities in his journal, question her about the grimoires, or just lay about with his Mabari and it drove her to near madness. The witch would demand to know what he wanted but when the fool only shrugged and smiled; yet she could see a small hint of yearning in his eyes. When the witch would turn in for the night, he would follow and slip in besides her, despite her complaints.

Rowan's company at night made Morrigan anxious, her tawny eyes would watch him with caution, sleep would escape her the moment he moved closer and set a heavy arm over her. The heat that brought her comfort in their acts of lust would make her squirm and sweat at night when he held her close and soft snores escaped his lips. The witch would lay all night before anger made her act and shake him awake and send him off, and again she would see the hurt look twist his expression. This would happen almost every night he joined her, and he would never take the hint and continue to return.

It drove her mad, he was a most interesting specimen, but his desire for comfort confused her. 'How could one so strong want such a strange affection?' She thought, as her fingers squeezed and brushed over the page of her grimoire, her eyes flicking towards the Warden, watching him march along the camp and converse with Alistair with a grin, his hound following at their heels.

When Rowan came to her that night, she was prepared; Morrigan had watched couples with disgust but took note of their actions every time the group had visited a stray village, and listened to the foolish fairy tale romances that the red-head chantry sister would tell at the camp fire, her eyes on her tomes while she put an air of disinterest.

"Warden," Morrigan called out in exhaustion after their session, her hand reaching forward to grasp his bare arm halting him from getting up and dressing, watching his nude frame shift back to face her, a brow lifting in confusion while he ran his calloused fingers over blonde curls to brush them away from his eyes.

"You may stay." She continued her fingers brushing over his forearm, watching an exhausted smile tug at his while he brought his body back down besides hers, collecting her in strong arms and setting her frame over his own.

"Thank you, Morrigan…" He whispered into her dark hair, while his breathing steadied, rough fingers brushed over her hip in lazy manner, his lips pressing down on her brow, before he slipped into the fade.

The witch, shifted in his arms, a sheen of sweat forming on her body while they lay together. It was a new experience altogether, and it unnerved her, but she didn't dislike it completely. It was a minor inconvenience but she would adapt. Morrigan sighed, her thumb brushing over the scar on his cheek thoughtlessly before finally shutting her eyes and attempting to sleep with Rowan, ignoring the small panting of the Mabari that lingered just outside.


This will probably be a series of One-shots ranging from Origins, Awakening, Witch Hunt, and Inquisition. Time line wise, chapters will jump back and forth. Thanks for reading! A comment, review, or even a critique would be nice!