Dragon Age: Origins is owned by Bioware, as with all its characters, the story as it deviates from canon is mine however, as with the personalities of characters as they deviate from those in the game.
Translations:
Bas-Saarebas: Denotes a non-Qunari mage.
Saarebas: A "dangerous thing," the Qunari word and title for mages.
Another day of travel, another boring night at camp.
Morrigan sighed as she finish setting up her tent for the evening, although she really didn't know why she bothered. She felt just as comfortable among the trees and grass than in any bed. Sometimes moreso. Yet this was what was expected of her, and raising too many suspicions amongst her traveling companions wasn't something the young witch was too interested in doing.
Besides, they were already curious as to why she camped away from them every night and where she often wandered off to when things were quiet.
The truth was, she hated being around so many people at once, all the time. Back with her mother, it was mostly just the two of them. The was the occasional suitor or unfortunate soul who her mother lured back to their hut to do nasty and horrible things with, and those nights Morrigan spent in among the trees far away from her mother's hut and the screams of the men now trapped there.
True, Morrigan had begun to become accustomed to Riel's merry group of adventurers, and a couple she was even fond of. Except for Alistair. Ever since they met in the wilds outside of Ostegar, something about the man always seemed to grate against her inner fiber. Which is perhaps why she took so much pleasure in tormenting the poor dullard.
In all honestly, she would have rathered the obnoxious dwarf to be the only other Grey Warden, apart from Riel. At least that way the fool Alistair would be more expendable.
No, the fool must live. And it seems fate also decreed that he also must become infatuated with their leader Riel. As annoying as that was for Morrigan, she could only imagine the horror Riel must feel in dealing with not only him, but the over zealous sex fiend, Zevran. At least the elf was mildly charming. And he also seemed to make Riel happy, so that also helped raise the witch's opinion of the Antivan assassin.
The only one Morrigan seemed to understand the most was the foreign giant Sten. Standing over 7 feet high, his skin a mixture of brown and grey, and his silent, domineering presence made him surely a sight wherever the little troupe went. Yet what intrigued Morrigan most was where the giant was from.
Unlike the rest of the group, Sten would most likely agree with her sentiments on how love was absurd and only useful as a tool to get what you wanted. Where he was from, couples were chosen by their leaders, according to who would make the better offspring for what they needed. There was no love. No emotional entanglement. More like a business contract. And that, Morrigan understood.
And wouldn't you know... Both of them were on watch tonight. Alone.
Grinning wickedly to herself, Morrigan made her way over to where Sten stood, looking out across the plain they found themselves in. The was no reason to sneak, for he would probably sense her getting closer no matter what she did. Besides, for her plan to take place, she would need the giant relaxed and unassuming.
"Bas-Saarebas." Sten said coolly as Morrigan joined him.
"Is that all you see us mages as? 'Dangerous things'?"
Sten shifted his weight as he thought, something he did quite frequently when speaking, Morrigan mused.
"It is what you are."
"'Tis true, I suppose. Yet if we were take the word as it, I think you could also be considered a 'dangerous thing.'"
"Hmph. It is not the same."
"Yet it is. You seem to kill just as many people, demons, and Darkspawn as I have. Perhaps even more." Morrigan laughed softly.
"I do what is commanded of me." Sten replied, still avoiding looking at the mage beside him. Normally such close proximity to dangerous mages made the giant uneasy, however this conversation was just making it more so.
"As do we all, my fair giant." Morrigan said with a evil smile. "The only difference between you and I, is that I accept who and what I am. While you seem to still struggle with it."
"I do not struggle. I accept the Qun. I accept my role in life. It is you who struggles against your vary nature. The nature that acts as a beacon and vessel for demons and spirits to take over. Without the Qun, all mages are a risk."
Morrigan eyed Sten carefully. She could see his irritation rising, his stance and his furrowed brow breaking the illusion of calm he was trying to portray. Being careful not to come into actual contact with him, Morrigan got as close as she can to the foreign giant.
"Haven't you ever done something that was a risk?" Morrigan purred up to him. This caused Sten to finally look down on the much shorter mage, and finally look into her golden eyes.
"I do nothing against the Qun." Sten replied flatly. However, his eyes still remained on her. Morrigan smiled up at him and lifted one of her hands to lightly trail up Sten's bare arm.
"I never stated otherwise, my dear Sten. All I inquired was if you ever did anything... that was... a risk?" The hypnotic purring of Morrigan's voice seemed to wrap itself around Sten. Even all his years of training couldn't seem to pull him away from the glittering light of this mage's golden eyes.
By non-Qunari standards, the mage was pleasant enough to look at. Sten had seen many Ferelden women in his travels, and very few of them seemed to hold the same amount of pleasantness in their appearance as this own did. Perhaps it was because he had been away from his homeland too long, or was too far away from the calming chanting of the Qun by the priests.
Whatever it was, Sten felt more drawn to this woman - this mage - at this moment than he could ever remember anyone else from his past. Even the women of the Qunari seemed to fade in his mind as he looked down upon this beguiling woman.
She is Saarebas!
Sten's mind tried desperately to pull himself out the dangerous spiral it was heading. He knew the penalty for laying with the cursed without consent. He knew the laws of his homeland. Yet it all seemed so distant to him now. As distant as the chanting of the priests of his homeland.
"You look weary, Sten. Perhaps 'tis time for short reprieve? I promise you, you won't regret it." Morrigan again purred up at the enthralled giant. Taking his hand, she led him off back towards her tent in the far corner of camp. Unconcerned with leaving the camp without a watchman for an hour or so, the young witch led her prize into her tent.
