Well, those Cheeky Monkeys were at it again. This time, Dasque threw down the challenge: "take a character from your current story and make them act in a way completely contrary to their personality or beliefs." Fellow Cheeky Monkey and Michigander Kira Tamarion just HAD to throw Lhiannon and Oghren out there, and of course, other Cheeky Monkeys just HAD to pile on. Yes, I'm looking at YOU, Tyanilth, Shakespira, and Enaid Aderyn. You're all evil, the whole lot of you (but that's why I like you all so much!).
So, here you go. You may want to read "Damn the Antivan Brandy" first if you have not done so already. Some of the comments in this story will make more sense if you do. ;)
It's often said that adopting a positive attitude can turn a negative stress into a positive one, but at this point in time, Lhiannon Amell thought that was a bunch of bull. Stress pulled her in a thousand different directions in her duties as Warden Commander, Arlessa of Amaranthine, and betrothed of Loghain Mac Tir. Her wedding was mere days away, as was a trip to Denerim and the upcoming Landsmeet, not to mention the duties involved in the Thaw. Lhiannon found her stomach twisted into knots and her nerves nearly frayed to the breaking point at the thought of all the work she needed to complete in such a short period of time.
Loghain was currently in Amaranthine, waiting for a shipment of silverite to arrive via ship from Kirkwall. Lhiannon did not expect him back until the following day; though he had only left that morning, she missed him terribly. When she was feeling particularly stressed and anxious, she found his cool demeanor grounding and centering. On a normal day, such stress would have driven her to the training room where she could spar with Loghain to burn off some of her anxieties and stress. Of course, sparring with Loghain also had other benefits, usually ending with them moving through the halls of Vigil's Keep at a rapid pace, pulling articles of clothing off each other as they climbed the last flight of stairs to their chambers.
Currently, Lhiannon sat at her desk, doodling on a piece of parchment that had started out as a requisition for more lyrium, but was now nothing more than squiggles and smiley faces. Next to her was a bottle of Antivan brandy, perhaps the very last bottle to be had in Vigil's Keep. She had opened it some time before and had made a sizable dent into the amber liquid inside. Her head buzzed pleasantly and she could feel the warmth of the liquor settling into her body. Her eyes felt heavy and she closed them for a moment, concentrating on the buzzing in her brain and the heat in her body.
"Here's your sodding report, Commander."
Lhiannon looked up to see Oghren entering her office—without knocking, of course—and dropping a piece of parchment on her desk. "That sodding surfacer Voldrik says the door barring the entrance to the Deep Roads is holding up just fine."
"Must you shout?" Lhiannon groused, squinting her eyes and rubbing her forehead.
"I'm not shouting."
Lhiannon studied the dwarf through her squinted eyes. Surely he had been shouting at her; what other reason was there for her head to be pounding and her ears to be ringing? She saw Oghren looking at the bottle of Antivan on her desk, his eyebrow quirking upward slightly. "You wanna drink, Oghren?"
"Nope," Oghren said, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. "I've decided that I need to stop drinking. It's affecting my duties as a Grey Warden as well as my life in general."
With a dumbfounded look on her face, Lhiannon merely stared at Oghren as he changed the subject and continued. "I don't know why you send me into the Deep Roads; is it just because I'm a dwarf? I'm from the warrior caste, not the sodding smith caste."
Can't one day go by in this damned place without someone complaining about their orders? And what's this crap about Oghren not drinking? Oh well, more for me then. Lhiannon reached over and poured herself another shot of brandy, quickly throwing it back. She felt the warmth spreading again as the brandy moved through her chest and toward her stomach. Still holding the glass in her hand, she pointed a finger at Oghren and scoffed. "You'll bloody well follow my orders, dwarf. I'm the Warden Commander 'round here. You'll bloody well dance a jig if I order it."
With a disappointed scoff, Oghren reached over and plucked the glass from Lhiannon's hand, setting it on the desk before replacing the cork in the bottle of brandy. "I think you've had just about enough of this, Commander. This stuff isn't good for you. I think you need a twelve step program."
"Who the hell are you?" Lhiannon scoffed. "Who are you an' what have you done with Oghren?"
"Commander, this is for your own good. Drinking too much isn't good for you, especially this Antivan stuff. If you're not careful with this, you'll end up doing something crazy, like a three way or something."
Lhiannon narrowed her eyes at Oghren, turning her head slightly as she regarded him out of the corner of her now bloodshot eyes. "How did you know that?"
Oghren shook his head, deciding that he did not need to know just what the Commander meant by that statement. He was pondering his next thought when he saw Lhiannon straighten up in her chair, her chin tucking in toward her chest as she released a large belch from within her, not bothering to cover her mouth as the sound grew louder. Is she burping the alphabet? He looked at her, not believing what he just witnessed as she began to giggle madly.
"I burped. I got ta 'D'."
"Commander, this isn't you. You need to lay off the drink."
Lhiannon suddenly became angry, her emotions wildly fluctuating as the brandy continued to take hold within her. She had been feeling just fine until Oghren showed up and started spouting his supposedly new found sobriety. How dare he question my drinking habits? Lhiannon stumbled around the desk and grabbed the bottle from Oghren's hands, tipping it up to her lips and downing several large mouthfuls in a single gulp. She pulled the bottle away, belching once again before turning her bloodshot eyes toward Oghren. "Maybe this is me. Maybe I shoul' jus' become the ragin' maleficar that the Chantry thinks I already am. I'm tired of being little miss goody goody mage an' Warden." She paused, taking another gulp from the bottle, rivulets of amber liquid running down her chin. "I wanna be a bad girl."
Oghren watched in stunned disbelief as Lhiannon's eyes suddenly changed; they had been narrowed and angry, but now there was something else behind them. She took a step toward him, reaching out and brushing her hand clumsily against his beard, pulling it in the process.
"Ow! That sodding hurt!" He plucked the bottle out of Lhiannon's hand again, resting it on the desk as she reached out toward his beard once more.
"I've always wonder'd wha it would feel like ta run my hands through yer beard."
"Err…perhaps we should get you to bed, Commander." Oghren gently pushed Lhiannon's grasping fingers away from his beard, wincing as she tugged on it before letting go.
"You said bed," Lhiannon snorted, giggling madly again before hiccuping into Oghren's face. She leaned closer to the dwarf, drawing in a deep breath through her nose. "Ya don't even smell like ale. That's jus' weird," Lhiannon snorted, stumbling over her feet as Oghren took her arm and began to lead her through the doorway to her and Loghain's living chambers.
"Let's just get you settled on the settee here, Commander. You're definitely not yourself."
"Yer the one not drinkin'! Yer not yerself!" Lhiannon stumbled, tripping over her own feet again and nearly falling to the floor, taking Oghren with her. He snorted in exasperation as he hauled her back upright.
"Well, Commander, I decided I needed to cut back. Maybe you should too."
Oghren finally managed to get Lhiannon over to the settee, where Lhiannon flopped down onto it awkwardly before reaching out and fingering his beard again. With a sigh, Oghren pulled her fingers from his beard, wincing as she was able to pull one of the braids loose.
"Oh, come on, Og," Lhiannon slurred, clumsily fighting back against Oghren's strong hands. "You hit on ev'ry woman in camp durin' the Blunt. Blood. Blight. You wanted in our pants in the wors' way. You wanted in Branka's pants before ya offed her. Watsa matter? Ya chick'n now?'
"Lhiannon…"
Placing her fists in her arm pits, Lhiannon flapped her elbows up and down. "Bwack, bwack, bwack! Oghren's a big ol' chick'n!" Her arms eventually slowed and Lhiannon closed her eyes, reaching out once more to feel the bristly texture of Oghren's beard through her fingers. It was rough, yet smooth and well taken care of; he obviously took pride in his intricately braided beard. "Yer jus' a big chick'n. All talk 'n no action…"
"Lhiannon!"
With a start, Lhiannon snapped her eyes open, momentarily confused as she was now at her desk, the office around her pitch black save for the one small candle lit in front of her. She looked up with bleary eyes and saw Loghain standing before her, his riding leathers still in place and a small lamp in his hand. He looked at the nearly empty bottle of Antivan brandy on Lhiannon's desk, tipped over onto its side and a pool of the amber liquid soaking into the parchments on her desk. She felt wetness on her face and wiped it away, grimacing as she realized the source of the wetness was her own mouth. Looking up at Loghain, she saw one of his brows raised in what appeared to be wry amusement.
"You know, my dear, nothing good comes from imbibing in that particular spirit. You do remember the trouble we got into the last time we imbibed in Antivan, don't you?"
Lhiannon shook her head, a pounding headache beginning to settle in behind her eyes, quickly followed by the roiling of her stomach. She knew that before long, she would be paying a visit to the nearest wash basin. She tried to concentrate on a rejuvenation spell, but even that was too difficult at the moment. Loghain gently helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist as she stumbled into him.
"You'd think I'd know better. Loghain."
"Indeed. I certainly hope we need not burn anything after this."
