Hey guys I derped a thing.
Disclaimer: BioWare owns Morrigan, the plotline, and the Amell origin story. All I own is this wonderful laptop and Sidane Amell.
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Utterly foolish.
Those were the first two words that came to mind when Morrigan thought of the Grey Warden, Sidane Amell.
Arrogant could be another word to describe him – and, in fact, it was. The way Sidane stood in battle, with that damned smirk on his face as fire lit up in his hands and set their enemies ablaze, practically screamed "I'm invincible, no one can touch me." As soon as the stupid smirk graced his lips, like clockwork, a darkspawn would take him up on the invisible challenge, and go straight for the handsome mage. And was it his own talent that saved him? No. Morrigan was almost always the one to save his ass, and did the bastard ever thank her? Quite rarely!
Utterly, utterly foolish!
A womanizer was yet another word to describe Sidane Amell. Morrigan had been quick to discover that he not only flirted with her, but Leliana, occasionally Wynne (had he no self-respect? Ugh!) , and just about every other female they had come across in their journey. From the girl in Redcliffe, Kaitlyn, he received a kiss for returning her pest of a brother. From Bella in the same village, yet another kiss "and a promise to never work in another tavern" for giving her their hard-won coin. In the Dalish clan that they went to in order to secure the Dalish promise for the Blight, Sidane did not hesitate to flirt with the elven lass Gheyna.
Yet Sidane paid the most attention to her. Morrigan could understand if it were merely a matter of lust; she knew that she was gorgeous, and her body something to desire, and yet…
Morrigan shook her head. Now she was being utterly foolish.
The Grey Warden was certainly handsome, though. Not even Morrigan could deny that. Sidane was of an average height, but he had developed muscle over the course of the Blight. His hair was a shade of jet black, his skin a pale color that contrasted sharply with his hair. His hair was long; not enough to be unattractive, but falling to just the end of his neck. His eyes were steel grey, with occasional flecks of blue; he had high cheekbones, with an especially sharp nose and chin. His beard on his chin (if it could even be called a beard) was small, neat, and trimmed.
And so when Sidane had made his interest in her known, Morrigan hadn't hesitated to do the same. And when she finally felt she had teased the boy enough (for he made it quite clear that, sexually, he NEVER asked the woman first; it was simply far too satisfying to see the woman approach him and demand that he join her bed), she had lain with him.
Morrigan crinkled her brow. Sidane hadn't been kidding when he said he had experience. And the man was definitely arrogant for more than just combat reasons. Ugh.
It was a simple enough procedure, or so she thought. A long day of fighting, or a situation particularly stressful, and they would… unwind, in her tent. Never in his, for Sidane's tent happened to be right beside Alistair's. And, of course, there was no need to traumatize the shield-wielding imbecile.
Sex, flirtation, and saving each other (she saving him, rather, and he using his healing magic to fix their wounds). That's all there was to it.
Or so she thought.
When had it become more than that?
Perhaps it had started in his genuine interest in her life. She had told him stories of the Wilds, of her past, and in return, he gave her snippets of his own life. His time spent laughing with his sisters, Elowin and Aurellia. His – and always told with a shudder – tales of his other, rather psychotic, sister Xelora. But most of all, his time spent in the Tower with his best friend, Ramori Surana. All of those women remained in the Tower still; and if that had to visit the Tower for any reason, he would stay overnight to spend time with them.
Morrigan had asked Sidane, once, just how close he was with Ramori.
At first, the disgust was evident. "Ramori's a lovely lady, don't get me wrong. But for the Maker's sake, you may as well be asking me how I feel about my sister. That's what she is to me."
And then, that damned smirk spread across his lips. "Why, my pretty one? Are you… jealous?"
Morrigan scoffed. She made the man practically squeal (that, along with other noises) in her tent whenever she felt the need to lie with a man; she didn't need to fear anyone "stealing her man."
His smirk vanished at that, and the idiot remained silent for the rest of the night.
Utterly foolish.
There was, and Morrigan was feeling terribly repetitive with these thoughts, nothing else to them. If one could even say there was a "them" in the first place.
She sighed, looking down at the ring in her hands, gleaming in the moonlight.
If there was nothing else to them, then what were these accursed things?
These butterflies in her stomach whenever he smiled, a genuine smile that wasn't traced with his usual arrogance?
That feeling of dread whenever a foe appeared to be besting him?
That feeling of inane, undeniable jealousy when he directed his attentions to another woman?
And especially, that flush on her cheek at the mere thought of simply him. Even with all of his flaws, his arrogance and womanizing ways, there was a charm to him that she couldn't deny.
Morrigan glared at the ring in her hand. There was no way in the Void that she would do what she was contemplating doing.
She would not give him that ring, she would not give him the upper hand, and most importantly, she would not fall for the arrogant, pigheaded, lecherous bastard that was Sidane Dimitrius Amell.
Because that, above all other things, was complete and utter foolishness.
She just had to keep telling herself that.
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This is pretty crappy, so uh… review if you want? Eh.
~You Have No Power Over Me