Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age. It's a good thing, too. I wouldn't have the heart to kill half the characters to make the game so heart-wrenching OTL.

On another note, this is my first DA fanfic, so we'll see how it goes ;D


"I understand not why I must accompany you, bard," Morrigan sighed out her dislike for being dragged along. Her and the bard, Leliana, were hardly on friendly terms. Or, rather, they were not in her books. Leliana seemed perfectly fine with assuming they were friends only for the reason they were forced to be in each other's company.

The red-haired woman grinned teasingly over her shoulder, her bow blocking half of her face off, "I told you, did I not? The Maker Himself told me I should take you out today!"

Again, Morrigan let out an annoyed sound. She had lost count of how many times she had made that sound today. "You and I both know the existance of such a being is completely-"

"True. Or, as you would put it-"

"Completely impossible." Morrigan returned to reading her grimoire. Perhaps not the best of ideas, considering they were wandering the wilds, with any feral animal ready to attack at any second, but Morrigan was a child of the wilds, and no animal was going to scare her. It was truly the other way around.

Leliana gave a sigh, knowing her attempts were useless. She purposely stayed a few feet in front of Morrigan, hoping she would not be choked to death. It was useless, considering the witch could just as easily use a spell, something that with Leliana being in front was made much easier to use. But, the bard saw it as a way to show she trusted the Witch of the Wilds. Or at least, that was the reason she told herself.

"Call it what you will, but you can not deny that it is at the very least plausible."

"'Tis not a matter of if it is plausible or not. 'Tis a matter of existing, something which I can not believe."

"And why not?"

"Have you seen a Maker face to face? And not in your dreams, bard. Physically appear before you," Morrigan quickly added the last two bits, already knowing she would be getting the 'I saw the Maker in my dreams and He told me to help you all' speech.

"Well, no. No one but Andraste has, I think. Though there are a few tales-"

"Tales do nothing for reality, bard. You are flesh and blood, as am I, and I can clearly see you. 'Tis no tale, but a fact I can clearly trust in. Your Maker is but one tale among the many."

"And Andraste's Ashes? Were they not a tale as well?"

Morrigan scowled, closing her grimoire, "Why do you pester me with such questions? Do I question you on your every belief?" She was surprised to find the minstrel gone. This only deepened her scowl.

"We never really talk beyond bantering. I can not say you wouldn't," Leliana's voice came from high above, and with a quick scan Morrigan found her in a tree, grinning down at her, one leg swinging uselessly from side to side.

"I would rather we did not find that out, either."

"Well, I would rather we would. Why don't we talk?"

Morrigan halted in her tracks. Talk? About what? The latest Orlesian fashions? What shoes would compliment her little toe the best? Tales of long dead heroes? The Maker? There was nothing this woman could talk of that Morrigan would even remotely be interested in. Nothing at all.

"I believe your precious Warden is the one you wish to talk with, bard. I have no business with you." And with that, Morrigan started off again.

"Morrigan."

The witch nearly twitched at that. The name sounded so foreign coming from that woman's lips. So . . .displeasing. It did not sound right with that light Orlesian accent. It sounded like a name for one of the many courtesans, not that of a witch. It made her sound like she was not as powerful as she wanted to be, and Morrigan hated that even more than she hated the talks of the Maker.

Regardless, Morrigan was not without manners.

"What is it that you would want from me, bard?"

Leliana hopped down, ending up directly in front of Morrigan, to the witch's surprise. Not that she let it show, of course. But Leliana was trained in the art of reading people, and even if she was not about to press on the subject, she knew Morrigan was truly quite jumpy when it came to thinks popping out from shadows.

"I told you already, did I not? I wish to talk."

"And what, exactly, do you want to talk about?"

Here, Leliana gave a carefree laugh and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, "Well, that's yet to be figured out."

Morrigan gave her the look, "You have brought me out to the middle of the wilds to talk, and you know not what we are to talk of? Have all those tales finally rotted your head?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. I did have an idea, but I'm not certain you will want to go through with it."

Morrigan let out yet another sigh. A child of the wilds she may be, but even they get lost on their way home sometimes. And sometimes, they never made it back. Tales, perhaps, but these tales were the tales she went to bed with. The tales of the dead stealing the life from her as she slept, of the beasts tearing her flesh as she tried to run, of the never ending darkness swallowing her whole. It was those tales that made Morrigan stay with the bard and say her next words.

"Very well, bard. Let me hear this idea of yours, and I shall tell you if I wish to play or not."

The rogue gave a brilliant smile, one Morrigan did not doubt she learned from years of practice,and placed both her hands behind her head, tilting her head back on them, "It's a simple game. I use to play it a lot in Orlais. I ask a question, and you must answer truthfully no matter what the question is. I must do the same for you. Does that sound fair?"

Morrigan looked at her puzzled, "I do not understand. What is the point of such a game? What interest should you have in me, and I in you?"

"Well, I will have songs to write about this adventure. I should know about the feared Witch of the Wilds if I am to write of her, should I not?"

"'Tis unnecessary."

Leliana gave a small smile, one Morrigan was certain the bard did not train herself to show, "No. It's necessary. Would you like to know a secret? History is written by those who win, and us, the people who helped the hero, are long forgotten. But we live on in bard tales. Tales that tell everyone that we were not just born heroes. We hurt, we bled, we died."

"No one has died."

"No. Not yet. It's irresponsible to think no one will die, don't you think?"

Morrigan looked over the girl once more, studying her. What was the point of these questions? Why was she so intent upon making certain she was known to the world? The fables and dreadful tales already woven were more than enough for her. She was the embodiment of a child's nightmare. What more was there to be?

"Is that your question that I must answer truthfully?"

Leliana blinked, confused momentarily, but quickly changed that to a smile, "I suppose it must be."

"If you wish to change it, then do so."

"I do not."

"You are infuriating."

"You have yet to answer my question."

A frustrated noise this time, "Very well, then, bard. I find the idea of believing no one is going to die stupid. Everyone dies. No one of flesh and blood is immortal. The Warden has proved this in slaying my mother. 'Tis my turn to ask questions now, 'tis not? Why are you so intent upon learning of me? I am but a witch of the wilds, and one among the many I am certain."

Morrigan was not sure when, but somewhere along her explanation Leliana had taken residence beside her, keeping at the same pace. It startled Morrigan once more, hearing the bard's laugh so close tended to that.

"Well, I suppose it's because you are the only one I have not managed to get along with. Or, I have not made the effort to do so. I think you and I are alike, really."

"Alike, you and I? 'Twould seem you have suffered a blow to the head, and a serious one at that. You and I are nothing alike."

"Aren't we? We are both thrust into the Maker's plans to assist the Warden, are we not?"

"You were not there, and so you would not know. I did not join the Warden by choice, bard. Flemeth had forced me to join the Warden in his quest, and right before supper as well. I highly doubt Flemeth is the Maker, and so it was no Maker who thrust me into any of this. How long I stay with the Warden all depends on how long it will take for Allistair to convince everyone I am an evil witch who must be hunted down."

"I would not hunt you down."

Morrigan faltered slightly at that, unsure of what to make of that. She pushed down any thoughts that pointed in the direction that perhaps Leliana did care for her well being, or anything similar, as quickly as they had risen. There was no need to think like that.

"Wonderful. I will be sure to keep that in mind while the others are attempting to behead me," she replied dryly.

"Well, perhaps I will help you. You do not walk alone, you know."

Morrigan scoffed, "'Twould seem so. You are right beside me."

Leliana let out another charming laugh, the kind Morrigan could tell was perfected through practice. The kind Leliana would have used to charm her targets and win their hearts. The witch knew Leliana had an interest in women as much as she did in men; it showed with how the bard stared at every decent looking person they passed when the Warden took them out. She would have hoped to the Maker that was not why Leliana had taken her out alone, but that would require praying to something that did not exist, and that would have been moronic.

"Well, that was not quite what I meant. What I meant to-"

"I know very well what you meant, bard. I am not a bumbling moron like Alistair."

"I meant to tell you even that bumbling moron, as you put it, would help you."

At this Morrigan whirled around, stepping in front of the bard, nearly knocking Leliana over in the process, "Bard" she put a sneer on the word, "do not for a moment believe that I would accept that false hope. The Templar hates me as much as I do him. There is nothing that would even suggest he would help me, and nothing that suggests I would accept his help. 'Tis something you should not put your faith in, lest you be blinded."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Why must you question my every answer?"

"Why must you refuse to answer my question?"

Morrigan scowled, "I have no reason to answer. 'Tis reason enough, I think."

"It was my turn to ask a question. You need to answer."

Morrigan let out an annoyed huff, spinning on her heel and walking down the forest once more. She hated she had been caught off guard like that, let alone the fact it was done by Leliana. At least it was not as bad as Alistair beating her.

Half of Morrigan wanted to change forms and run into the wilds, clear her mind of all the problems her human form had. Allow her to relax and let the weariness leave for a few hours. The other half, however, was enthralled by all of this. Some small part of her wanted at least one person she could lean on for help. For comfort.

But she was Morrigan, and that meant she could not afford such delicacies, no matter how much she wished for them, "Yes, I do."

Suddenly Leliana grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side, through trees and bushes, and other things Morrigan barely managed to dodge. The effort of keeping out of nature's way was more than enough to keep her occupied from asking what the bard thought she was doing, and to order the woman to unhand her.

Leliana grinned to herself, hopping over rocks and anything else in the way, pulling Morrigan along. She knew eventually they would hit the clearing she was aiming for, but that would not be for a little while longer, giving her just enough time to figure out how to make the witch not turn her into a toad. She had that unfortunate experience once. She had no desire to repeat it.

Somewhere along the lines, Leliana had decided it was okay to let go, and that Morrigan would continue to follow. Why wouldn't she? The witch had no idea where they were, where to go, nor what surrounded them. True she was more than capable of handling herself, but what would she do after? Wander the forests aimlessly? Highly doubtful.

Leliana jumped a few stones to cross a river, one where the fish were visible. She looked over her shoulder to make certain Morrigan did as well, and gave a smile when she did. She ran a few more metres, jumping from side to side up a little hill, and slid down a natural slide, bringing them to a half in front of a clear pond and grass. Something the darkspawn had not managed to ruin as of yet.

The thrill of everything took over, and Leliana gave a genuine laugh, the kind that surprised even Morrigan, and the witch eventually joined in, allowing herself a few chuckles once she had caught up. For a moment, they laughed together, allowing a comfortable silence to take them over.

Morrigan walked to the edge of the pond, sitting down and drawing her knees up to her chest, watching the fish make little ripples in the water, swimming aimlessly. Without purpose, without ambition. Something she found stupid. But, this was food, and food was not supposed to take notice of these things. It was only there to serve the purpose of being food, and it was something it could not even try to remedy.

Leliana joined her, sitting so their backs were together, barely touching. She looked at the trees, tall and proud, standing broadly. They did not care for purpose. They cared only that they be noticed, perhaps serve some kind purpose one day, but not until all was well and nothing could stand in the way of that purpose. But it was that kind of thinking that ended with them being cut down, only stumps of what they used to be remaining. Broken, rigged stumps.

"It's beautiful, no?" Leliana said quietly.

Perhaps it was the scenery so different from her forest, or perhaps it was because she was far too weary to care, but Morrigan could only agree, "'Tis," she replied just as quietly.

"It's funny, really. You just stop feeling lost when you find something of content."

"'Tis not funny. 'Tis how we work."

"Even you."

Morrigan scowled at that, ready to retort, but no retort came. The bard was correct. There was only a feeling of content, and Morrigan did not feel lost, nor all that alone. 'Twas an odd feeling, one she was not used to, but she could not say she disliked it.

She might have even ventured to say she liked it.

And there they sat, two lonely souls lost together, waiting for that purpose that would make them whole again. They were alike, but not for the reasons the bard had given. They were both alone in the world, but for completely different reasons, giving them different feelings of alone. Leliana yearned for the love she had lost, being a hopeless romantic. Morrigan yearned for a power she could hardly achieve on her own, and thus someone she could rely on, but she could not allow that.

"'Tis my turn to ask, I believe. The. . . feeling of being a bard, what is it like?" Morrigan broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leliana let out a little surprised sound at first, but let out a low, short laugh, "It was exciting. Terrifying, but exciting. The songs, the tales, they let your heart flow to somewhere where this feeling was. Every time I left a town, a country, I was terrified of what I'd see. Admittedly, I was afraid of meeting a Witch of the Wilds. I knew of them only what the stories said, and I was never certain if I would live to sing my new tale, to have this contentedness again."

"And what have you learned of us witches now?"

The rogue gave a smirk, allowing the witch an extra question, even if it was against the rules. Then again, Leliana was never very good at following rules, "I know not of all witches, only of one. She is just like us, though secluded I confess. Beautiful as any, however three times more deadly. Just one more lonely soul, only with tenfold the control." Leliana frowned, "You are very difficult to write without insulting."

"'Twas a valiant attempt."

The bard pushed her face into her knees in defeat, "I honestly can never tell when you are being sarcastic."

"'Tis the mystery of a Witch of the Wilds."

"'Tis not to my liking."

"'Tis not your place to use 'tis to mock me."

"'Tis not your place to tell me when I may or may not use 'tis."

"'Tis getting very annoying!"

Then Leliana laughed, throwing her head back in the process, coming into contact with the witch's shoulder. She felt Morrigan tense up behind her momentarily, but she soon relaxed and the bard took it as invitation to lay there.

"You are very much like that Warden. Always prodding me for useless information! I will leave you all eventually, what difference does it make if you know me or not?"

"Is it not our place to know our friends?"

"Friends? You are mistaken. I am no friend."

"You may not consider myself, or anyone, as such, but I know that the Warden and I do consider you so."

"And just how do you know what the Warden feels?"

"Now who is the one prodding for useless information?"

Morrigan laughed, "Would you rather I poked you relentlessly with a stick?"

"No. I've experienced that. Not very fun. At all."

Leliana heard her companion let out an amused scoff, and felt her tilt her head to the side in disapproval. Somehow, the bard had a feeling she was going to have to get used to that. Or at least learn to take it as a sign of affection.

"The wilds. What is it like living in them?"

"The wilds? 'Tis difficult to explain. I had no chances to properly interact with anyone besides Flemeth, and so it was . . ." she paused looking for the correct word, "individual. But there was my home, and there was my belonging. 'Tis true I felt apart of the wilds only as an animal as a child, but there is nothing new to that. All children have difficulties understanding how to belong."

Leliana could only give a far-off look at that.

It was not only children who had difficulties understanding how to belong.