This is essentially what happens when Economics bores you to death, your mind just wonders around thinking of useless stuff.
The timeline for this story is set about a week after the previous story. Summary: The party stops to trade at a small village, however, the situation deteriorates due to racial tension. Lyna solves the problem quickly, but Wynne disapproves of her methods. To escape the impending sermon, Lyna seeks refuge at Morrigan's tent. However, Morrigan wants something in return for her "kindness", which may require Lyna to spend time with Leliana, whom she still feels awkward around with due to the previous conversation they shared.
Comments, reviews and criticisms are always greatly appreciated :)
This fic is dedicated in thanks to YourOwnDream and Kapleon, your comments for the previous chapter spurred me on to keep writing.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The late afternoon sun beat down mercilessly on the party of people that were marching towards Denerim. Having been unable to stand the extra weight on her head, Lyna Mahariel had stashed her helmet in her backpack. She shrugged once in a while, attempting to lessen the stress that her shoulders were experiencing from the straps of the backpack that were cutting into them. A quick cursory glance showed that her companions were all not faring well under the heat too. Everyone, with the exception of Shale, seemed to be struggling with their own load, and they were moving at a sluggish pace. Peering far off into the distance, Lyna spotted a small village. Pointing it out to her companions, they reached a swift consensus that they would stop there for the evening.
Dumping her backpack on the ground, Lyna walked over to the gate of the village where Alistair was waiting.
"The guard said the village is really small, they don't have an inn that we can stay over in, so I guess we have to pitch our tents at the clearing outside the village." Lyna nodded at Alistair's words, she patted his shoulder and thanked him. She walked over to where the other companions were waiting to deliver the news. It was discussed and agreed upon that Lyna, Wynne and Alistair would venture into the village to restock on supplies and weapons, while the rest would start pitching the tents and cooking dinner.
"Well, the last stop would be the little smithy over there," Alistair said, peering over the tall bag of dried provisions that he was carrying. Eager to be done with their chores, they walked briskly and reached the smithy in no time.
The smithy was of great curiosity to Lyna. While she had known of traders who would sell trinkets or materials to the Dalish, she had never seen a smithy before. Most, if not all, of the weapons that the Dalish used were created by the clan's master craftsman. She left the bartering of the weapons to Alistair and Wynne while she walked around peering at the tools and half-made weapons. What intrigued her the most was all the soot, why was the place so dirty? She glanced over to where Alistair was; wondering what was taking so long. She frowned when she realized that Alistair and Wynne still had not purchased any weapons yet. She saw the blacksmith gesticulating violently at her; Alistair held up both hands, palms facing the blacksmith, and seemed to be attempting to pacify him. Wynne, on the other hand, had a look of deep disapprobation. Lyna sighed, why did humans always take so long to get things done? She dragged herself over to join in the conversation.
"I'm not selling you any weapons if you both are with that thing," the blacksmith insisted vehemently.
"What thing?" Lyna asked. Suddenly alerted to Lyna's presence, Wynne tried to usher Lyna to another corner while Alistair tried his best to reassure Lyna that nothing was wrong and that the transaction will be settled soon.
"I'd say our business is already done, I want all of you and that knife ears out." The blacksmith pointed at the exit that was starting to crowd with people who were interested in finding out what the commotion was all about.
"So… are you saying you won't barter with us because I am an elf?" Lyna questioned him. Things like this was not unheard of, she had heard stories of these from clan mates who were previously from the cities, or from those who to go to nearby cities when trade became necessary. The situation would usually turn ugly quickly, and Keeper Marethari would lead the clan away quickly to avoid any possible human confrontation. Thinking about her clan and Keeper Marethari set free the bitterness in her heart that had been choked off. Leaving her clan had not been her choice; it had taken both the pleading of Keeper Marethari and the threats of Duncan to leave. Even so, she still held a grudge against Duncan for forcing her to leave when Tamlen needed her most, and a separate grudge against the clan for casting her away. And while she strove for rationalism, reason and practicality, she knew that for as long as she lived a part of her would always be governed by her emotions. And while she rarely understood and often got frustrated with her feelings, she knew better than to let her emotions get the better of her when something important came up.
"Yes, I don't sell my wares to low-life. Get lost, scum!" With his veins popping out, the blacksmith looked like he had only just started on his tirade. Placing both of his hands on the counter, he leaned forward, sneering right into Lyna's face.
"Do you know what you are," he whispered directly in her ear, "you are a knife-ear cu-"
The sharp thud of metal against wood, directed his attention towards his hands on the counter. Lyna's dagger was nestled deeply in the wooden counter, between the tiny crooked space of his index and middle fingers. His eyes registered shock then fear at what had just happened. His eyes flittered to the person in front of him. Slowly, with her right hand still on her dagger, Lyna leaned forward and whispered directly in his ear, "Look, call me what you want, I don't care. However, it becomes my concern when you won't sell me the necessities that I need. Now, I'm going to ask you the same question again, and I'm going to be nice enough to give you a little time to think it through. Take too long to consider or give me the wrong answer, and the next time my dagger swings down, you might find its placement to be not so accurate."
Alistair peered over the counter, and placed a hand on Lyna's shoulder. "Hey, try not to overdo it. That man just peed on his pants."
As if snapped from a trance, the blacksmith grabbed Alistair and dragged him to a corner. Lyna could see that the blacksmith was taking down Alistair's order. Pleased that she resolved the situation really quickly, she turned to see a frosty look of disapproval from Wynne.
"I suppose you are pleased with what you have done?"
"What did I do?"
"Threatening a weaponless man?"
"I would rephrase that to "threatening a weaponless bigot", and if I could add on, I would add the phrase "who would kill me if he could.""
"Is that all you can say in the defense of your actions," Wynne pressed on, trying to corral Lyna to apologizing to the blacksmith who still looked rather shaken.
"Well…" Lyna dithered off before saying, "I would also add that whoever who said violence isn't the solution was wrong."
Dinner was bland, and Lyna gulped some down before trying to escape from Wynne's accusatory glares. Lyna winced, she found it uncomfortable to eat with Wynne staring at her the whole time, and it was as if she was willing her to choke! Dinner time had ended uncomfortably, and everyone was busying themselves with their own activities. Wynne, however, had not abated from her previous activities. Lyna fought back the onslaught of an oncoming headache, that old mage was really persistent! Pushing herself off the ground, Lyna decided she had better talk to Wynne before she spontaneously combusted from all the pent up righteous anger inside of her.
"Alright Wynne, out with it, what do you want? An apology?"
"It's not a matter of what I want, but more a matter of what you think you should do." The cryptic reply jammed on Lyna's nerves; this was why she hated dealing with self-righteous people. It always took longer for people like her to settle things with people like them.
"I do not think I need to do anything, I did nothing wrong; nobody got injured, nobody died."
"Lyna, your wanton disregard for the consequences of your violent actions worries me."
"Oh, don't make it sound like I'm a violent psychopath on the loose, if I was, the guy would have lost a few body parts. I'm just trying to expedite this tedious process of getting things done. Being efficient is not a crime. And if solving things quickly requires a little violence and threats, I'd say we subscribe to that, after all that is what we're going to use against the darkspawn, no? Did you expect us to roll out a red carpet and welcome them for peace talks?"
"You're still young, and perhaps that is why you may take this stance. However, it is the duty of the experienced elders to help educate the young. Have I ever told you the story about-"
"Aww, what's this? Morrigan is calling me," Lyna lied smoothly, craning her head to look in the general direction of Morrigan's tent, "Oh, that's really… too bad. Another time, hmm?" Lyna smiled, while backing away from Wynne, she needed to get away quickly before Wynne told another one of her frightfully boring stories. The truth was, what made Lyna so against hearing any of her stories was the fact that those stories were redundant and irrelevant in the times that they are in now. She brooded on that as she strolled over to Morrigan's tent, vague concepts like honour, duty and morality, what did they matter when people only behaved as well as their circumstances allowed them to be? She shook her head, all that would be left for people who stood on their high cliffs of morality would be the sharp death of their illusions when they fell off and smacked into the concrete ground of reality. She would know, she experienced it before, and well, once bitten twice shy.
She reached Morrigan's tent and saw that the witch was seemingly engrossed in a tome. Lyna picked a spot within a cozy distance of the small fire near Morrigan's tent and sat down silently.
"So, did the circle mage attempt to tell you one of her stories again?" Morrigan's voice sliced through the silence that was often present at the far end of the campsite.
"How would you know that?"
"'Tis just simple deduction really, something that a fool like Alistair will never be able to get. If you were here for something, you would have voiced out your reasons immediately as you are wont to do. However, I have noticed a disturbing trend where if you happened to be escaping from Wynne, you would seek refuge over at my tent, choosing to stay silent most of the time."
"It would be silly to attract her over when I am running away from her."
"This leads me to my next point, that though I enjoy your company as a friend, you should stop using me as an excuse and come up with something more original. The old woman might just feel frustrated with her lack of a "captive" audience and may seek to remedy that by coming over to my tent to bother the both of us instead."
"Oh Morrigan, it's so heartwarming to know that one can count on friends in times of need."
Morrigan crossed her arms, brows furrowed in frustration. "I mean it; you shall incur my wrath if that slave of the circle comes to preach at my tent due to your presence here."
Lyna sighed, "Alright, I'll start to think of some new excuses."
"You're welcome," Morrigan sing-songed.
"Thank you, Morrigan. You're too kind, Morrigan. Your generosity knows no bounds, Morrigan," Lyna intoned monotonously, catching on quickly to Morrigan's obvious hint.
Morrigan sat still, as if in silent contemplation of their recent conversation. Lyna didn't let the silence bother her too much, it happened often when they sat together to muse about the past events of their journey together. Morrigan closed the tome shut slowly, her mind clearly still occupied on her present thoughts. Just as Lyna was about to give up on conversation and leave for her tent to catch some sleep, Morrigan chose to resume conversation. "You know…" Morrigan sounded thoughtful, "I think that social convention dictates that a favour should be repaid by another, or at least that there should be some implicit agreement that a debt is owed for a favour that is done."
Lyna arched an eyebrow to Morrigan's comments. She replied, "Well, we don't really seem the sort to be bound by social norms, but if it pleases you, then consider it as I owing you one."
Her comments seemed to please Morrigan, who quickly pounced on. "Good. And I decide to call for the repayment of the debt, right now."
"Right now? Wow, you are impatient."
"I would say it's more desperation than impatience," Morrigan remarked dryly.
Now that piqued Lyna's interest; Morrigan was desperate? That was a rare sight.
"Well you see, the Chantry sister has got this idea in her empty head that she wants to me to accompany her shopping in Denerim…" Morrigan teetered off, letting Lyna fill in the blanks on her own.
"What? You want me to go shopping with Leliana in your stead? That activity is brain-numbing. I'd rather owe you two favours instead." In retrospect, Lyna knew that while she did not like the idea of shopping (the concept of buying things you never needed always eluded her), what she was more worried about was spending time with Leliana. After the previous late night conversation where she committed a gaffe by her senseless comments, Lyna was not sure she could spend time with Leliana without melting in the awkwardness of all things. Sure, the sister did seem to have forgiven her, but it didn't feel like Lyna was ready to forgive herself too soon for being so thoughtless. A sudden thought of why Leliana's feelings seemed to matter more than Wynne's feelings grew on her mind, but she pushed it aside quickly and prepared to deal with the current issue at hand: getting Morrigan to take her words back.
"'Tis a pity, you seem to underestimate my desperation to get out of doing this activity with the deranged sister. For example, I would even go to the extent of letting Wynne know that you are free now… and that you lied about being called over by me," Morrigan added sneakily. Lyna gaped and gawked at the horrors of which Morrigan had just proposed. She quickly weighed out the pros and cons in her head. She knew that if Wynne were to be alerted to her dishonesty, she would then be forced to be 'regaled' by her tales with no reprieve, and her excuses would no longer be accepted by Wynne. On the other hand, if Morrigan was appeased if she went ahead with her plan, she just might be able to call in a few more favours the next time when Wynne came a calling. Besides, at least Leliana didn't have the powers to turn her into a toad if she was rude.
"Very well, Morrigan, but I'm letting you know that you owe me big if I come out of this alive."
"Indeed, for I am well aware of the horrors that you have to go through."
"I assume that you already have an excuse prepared?"
"Our party is in urgent needs of potions, and since I am educated in the lore of herbalism, I will be busy trying to brew some."
Lyna shot her a sour look, "How well prepared your excuse seems to be, how long have you spent planning this? Well it is at least comforting to know that if I end up dying of boredom while on the trip with Leliana, my murder would have been premeditated."
"Then I suppose your remaining time would be better spent on informing the sister that you will be the one accompanying her instead. And please be heartened by this thought: if you do die of boredom, I just might lose an hour of sleep over that."
"You're too kind, Morrigan."
"I do my best. Do try to come back in one piece. It would be troublesome if I was the only sane person left in this camp."
"It always leaves a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart to know that I will be missed." With that parting short, and a little wave, Lyna trudged towards Leliana's tent. Morrigan smiled, shaking her head slightly. She enjoyed the repartee, and she enjoyed Lyna's company the most out of all the other companions. However, she was still more grateful that Lyna was going to take her place and go shopping with Leliana.
Back on the other side of camp, Lyna was having a hard time trying to find the right words to explain the new situation to Leliana. Sitting down next to the sister, she fumbled with her fingers while Leliana looked at her curiously. Leliana wondered if this was going to be another one of those silent moments where the Dalish would sit next to her, fumble about with her fingers while staring at the air as if waiting for the right words to be conjured right out of space. It wouldn't be what she would deem as awkward or boring per se, but it was confusing to Leliana, what did Lyna want?
"Leliana…," Lyna finally decided to say something, "Morrigan says she isn't free to accompany you to go shopping in Denerim as she needs to brew some potions. I'm afraid you'll just have to make do with me. If you're fine with it, that is." Lyna hastily added the last bit; she didn't want Leliana to feel as if she was obliged to spend any time with her.
"Oh that's fine," Leliana answered happily, "In fact, I think it's even better that you're coming. I've always dreamt of finding the perfect dress for you. And shoes! Once can hardly forget that." Lyna shook her head in confusion, what did Leliana mean? Was Leliana going to shop for her?
"Wait," Lyna jumped in quickly to clarify the situation, "I'm just the silent bystander who accompanies you on your shopping trip right? I am not going to be actively involved in that wearisome activity. That was the reason why Morrigan was following you right? Just to accompany and make sure you come back safely?"
Leliana giggled, "No, Lyna. Morrigan was supposed to come with me so that I could find the perfect outfit for her. However, since she can't make it, and you're coming, we'll just find something for you instead. I have the most beautiful dress in mind for you."
Lyna sighed and realized the futileness of trying to escape. Yet the very thought of the many hours that might be accorded to that tedious activity made her blanch. Her only sole thought now was to find the person who had given her this task without properly explaining what was entailed of her and that thought culminated into a single name.
"Morrigan!"
