;o Second chapter!

It didn't seem to matter how hard they tried to be apart, somehow they were always brought back together. Morrigan did not believe in fate, she believed in making her own. When the Warden picked who would accompany, Morrigan believed it was for tactical reasons that she and Leliana were always together. When patrols were chosen, it was only natural they worked together. Leliana would attack from afar while Morrigan would signal as she prowled around in one of her many forms. When Leliana was bored, and the Warden finally fell asleep after mostly everyone else had, it was Morrigan who was plagued with the tales of Orlais and their impractical shoes. What were the point of fancy shoes, anyways? Morrigan did not think a man would be looking at her shoes to judge her worth.

But it was always at night when Leliana overstepped her boundaries threefold. And somehow it was always Morrigan who was the only one awake during those times. Of course, this time, they were out patrolling in a thick forest, a few kilometres away from the main camp.

"What this rune mean?" Leliana's gloved fingers roughly handled the grimoire, the fake one, not Flemeth's true spellbook that they were to retrieve in the next few days, pointing at a little inked drawing. Morrigan only glanced at it, wincing at the lack of delicacy it was being handled with, knowing she wasn't getting her book back anytime soon.

"'Tis for the Fade."

"And this one?"

"Life force."

"And this?"

"It means any red-haired female bard who's name starts with an 'L' that touches one more page is going to burst into flames and turn to crisp on the spot."

"Turn to-?Haha! You're funny! I never took you for a comedian! You should do a show for the king of Orlais one day. He-"

"I do nothing for anyone, bard."

"Except yourself."

Morrigan looked annoyed now, "Yes. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"There is plenty wrong with it! Don't you care for the people that get hurt on the way?"

Morrigan took the chance to steal back the grimoire, "Why should I? Have those people done anything for me? Have they risked anything at all for anything? Have they proven to me that I should concern myself with their life? Should they do so, why would I do such a thing?"

"Do they need to—look out!" The bard threw herself at the mage, knocking the woman to the ground in the process and taking the arrow. Leliana grimaced at the feeling, trying to roll off of Morrigan without causing too much pain to herself. She let out a frustrated growl when she figured out it had gotten quite deep. She did, however, manage to pull it out as she was getting up and notched it, aiming in the general direction of where it came from, and fired.

Morrigan had been dazed by the sudden blow, but was quick to her feet once the bard was off of her, spells ready in her hands. She made that disapproving laugh of hers along with an irritated flick of her head, firing lightening in the same spot Leliana had fired her arrow. She heard a satisfying squeal of death.

The two shared a quick nod, Leliana already notching an arrow and preparing to aim, while Morrigan changed into a wolf, hunting down her foes. The two had figured out some sort of communication based upon Morrigan's howls. Leliana followed them perfectly, howls of confirmation stating she had hit her targets, hitting targets she managed to spot on the way, plastering an arrogant smirk on her face. She could hear the screams as Morrigan mauled her foes to death. A gruesome tactic she did not approve of, but in the matter of life or death, there was not much choice.

Leliana side stepped an arrow, launching hers out in return. She saw Morrigan pounce upon her miss, wincing when she could hear the sound of flesh tearing. Sometimes, the witch was just a little too aggressive and into the spirit of things. The bard doubted she would ever be thinking that again. She quickly rearranged her thoughts to shooting once more. Even a fraction of a second of distraction could mean death.

Morrigan was having the time of her life, on the other hand. She was glad to finally be able to get into more comfortable skin, even if it was under unfavourable conditions. She was not quite certain as to why, but when taking any animal form, she felt a lot more free. She did not have a care in the world, nothing to hold her back. Nothing to limit her.

There were no morals in the animal world. There was no right or wrong. There was only survive, and that was precisely what she was planning on doing. Of course, she had a responsibility, something she did decide to have, just as animals were free to choose where their loyalties lay.

Admittedly, the taste of blood in her mouth was not something she fancied, and she knew she was going straight to the stream the second she could to wash it out. The feeling of flesh between teeth, too, was not something she particularly liked, but knew it was a necessity in doing her part. Not that she cared. Darkspawn were darkspawn, and they deserved to finally die if nothing else.

The witch sank her teeth into the last of her foes' neck, ripping the thing's throat out, letting a wild gush of blood spill everywhere before tackling it's chest and pulling organs out. Once she was certain that was the end, she trotted back to where she had left the bard, spitting on her way. She was prepared to be questioned on more rune meanings, but the site in front of her quickly changed her attitude completely.

"Bard!"

By the time Morrigan had basically thrown herself over to Leliana's tumbled form, she had already changed back into her human form and was on her knees, inspecting the girl to the fullest. She let out an annoyed huff when she decided it was nothing too serious.

"Oh! Morrigan! How're you doing?" Leliana gave a lazy smile.

"This is no time for games, Bard. Can you walk?" Where there was one darkspawn, there was bound to be patrolling darkspawn. Where there was patrolling darkspawn, there was bound to be an entire fleet coming. Perhaps that was exaggerating it a little too far, but hey needed to go warn the Warden nevertheless.

"Well, as much as I love laying on the nice, cold, hard ground, which I love dearly and really don't want disappearing under me (again), I wouldn't be down here if I could."

"Can you stand at least?"

"Of course. Help me up."

Morrigan let out a growl at being commanded, but did as instructed anyways. She felt Leliana buckle under her. The problem became apparent soon enough.

"You will not be capable of walking for quite some time, it appears. Twas the hamstring an arrow caught."

"I don't think I carry strings of ham in my leg," giving a teasing grin.

Morrigan rolled her eyes, wondering if it was just something everyone did not know, or if there was a female counterpart to Alistair's buffoon-ness, though keeping open to the idea that this might be yet another of the bard's horrible jokes, "A hamstring is what allows you to bend your knee and extend your leg, bard. 'Tis essential for walking. Luckily 'twas only a graze you received. Should we find a suitable spot to rest, I believe I can make a salve of sorts that will get you to an acceptable state until the mage can heal you."

"Do my ears deceive me? You sound almost, ah, concerned?"

Morrigan visibly froze at that, and cleared her throat, "It appears your ears deceive you. Perhaps twas not only your muscle that was injured."

"Were you hurt?"

"I. . . no. Nothing of consequence was sustained. Relax your leg."

Leliana did as instructed, allowing it to bend into a nerveless position while still being supported by the witch, though thoroughly surprised when Morrigan was suddenly under her, and she on her back. She made a few incoherent stutters of protest. Was Morrigan honestly giving her a piggy-back?

"Silence, bard," Morrigan put an edge on her voice, showing she was annoyed with the all the splutters of nonsense, "I believe I told you you will be incapable of walking for the time being. 'Tis moronic to allow you to walk. You would only damage yourself further."

"W-well, yes, but is it really necessary to carry me?"

"I could amputate your limb and allow you to hop and stumble like Allistair surely did as a child if that is more to your liking."

Leliana pulled herself closer, burying her chin into the crook of Morrigan's neck like some small child frightened over their parents wrath should they do something wrong, "N-no. I rather like my leg firmly attached to the rest of me."

Morrigan gave that displeased tilt of her head and scoff, whether it was because of Leliana's actions or because she would not be allowed to amputate anything was anyone's guess, though said nothing as to where the bard had taken residence. She only focused on navigating back to camp.

"The trees are lovely, aren't they?"

"'Tis the same as any other tree." Well, maybe not. There were those trees that tried to kill the Warden once. . . and that rhyming tree with an acorn complex. . .

"You smell nice."

"Oh? Did you expect me to smell of death and bat guano?" The witch held back back her surprise on the abrupt statement.

Leliana gave a laugh, quiet, mindful of how close she was to Morrigan's ear, "No, not exactly. But I really do need to know what soaps you use. There was never anything like this in Orlais. Is it your own creation? You should sell it. You could make thousands and thousands off of it."

So much for a peaceful walk.

"Tis my own brew, yes. 'Tis called the wilds. Should you live in them long enough and play with the little herbs you see sprouting here and there, you acquire their scent."

"It's nice. It doesn't smell of wet dog like the rest of Ferelden."

"I will be certain to tell the Warden that. Certainly wet dog is a compliment Orlais."

The bard caught the witches playful smirk, hoping that only meant she was teasing her. She had promised the Warden never to call Ferelden, nor her citizens, anything remotely relating to wet dog ever again after the encounter with Marjolaine. Morrigan had been there, too, oddly enough. She herself had seemed almost happy the professional bard was dead.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Oh? Actually bothering to ask for permission this time? Very well. What is it you need?"

"Back before . . . before I killed Marjolaine, when the Warden and I were preparing to leave, you offered your services. I did not think anything of it then, it was natural you came along, with how you stare at the Warden, but now I see it does not make very much sense at all."

"What is there to not understand? You were to kill your mentor—the very being who taught you everything you knew. She could have held out and used a trick she had not taught you. The Warden was needed to help you in case she showed her true prowess, and I to keep her servants at bay. Twould seem I was unneeded however. You are quite exceptional with melee combat as well."

"I. . . thank you. That doesn't excuse the fact you came after . . . after you. . ."

"After I what, bard? Witch I may be, but a mind reader I am not."

"N-nothing. There was also the time you forced your help upon me to help free the Wardens from their cell." Leliana had wanted to say 'after you had been rejected by the Waden' but that would have caused so many problems...and it wasn't particularly anything Leliana was proud of.

"You were foolish to believe you could defeat an entire garrison on your own. 'Tis not an easy task, even for a bard."

"You could have." Leliana heard the growl in Morrigan's chest. The kind that said she had stepped into something she really shouldn't have. Maker, she hoped the woman wouldn't just abandon her by a tree...

"I would not. I am not Flemeth," the witch finally replied after a few moments, "I know not all the tricks of my trade."

The bard let out a soft gasp, smiling slightly, even as she felt Morrigan's hate for admitting such things. For trusting anyone. Leliana risked bending her knee more than she was supposed to—and to a painful inconvenience on her part—to give the woman as much of a hug as she could. It was difficult, both because of Morrigan's clothing (she had already been accused more than once of disrobing the witch with her eyes—which honestly was not true) and because it was just generally impossible to hug properly in the midst of a piggy-back, but the effects had the same nevertheless. Morrigan let out her surprised gasp, and then scowled.

"Fool. 'Tis not sensible to do such things with a wound such as yours! It could worsen your condition!"

Leliana let out another laugh, "I appreciate your concern, sera witch, but you should understand I'm neither very sensible nor very intolerant to a little extra pain."

"Yet still you can not walk."

Another silence followed at that, this time a comfortable silence. The kind they both enjoyed. Leliana nestled her forehead into Morrigan's neck, smiling sadly into it. Morrigan only tilted her head slightly, in the opposite direction, understanding, though grudgingly.

This was another (stupid) moment, like back by that clearing Leliana had found and showed her weeks ago. They had not spoken much after that, though their general actions toward each other had become much more friendly. Morrigan understood none of it. It was impractical. Preposterous. All of it was, yet she found herself enjoying it more and more, and the end was drawing closer and closer. She hated it, and she did not understand why.

She did not need these people—friends, as the bard put it. She could survive on her own. She always had, but now, she found herself yearning for that friendship. Wanting it more than she had even wanted that golden mirror in her childhood, and it scared her. Was her mother going to brutally crush them as well? Send their broken pieces back into her face?

Send the bard, who touched even the coldest of hearts with her songs, who understood her like no other she had met besides perhaps the Warden, back to her with a ripped throat and bloody heart? Morrigan found she was caring much more than she should about everyone, even to the point of carrying one of them on her back all the way to camp.

And now, the bard had given her even more understanding. Leliana had managed to confront her old master, her mentor, her lover, whatever else they had been, and win. Leliana had the strength, the ability to do so. Morrigan had power, she would not lie, it was in her veins after all, but would it be enough to destroy Flemeth? She was a legend, and legends did not become legends without good reason.

Was she perhaps sending the Warden and her companions to her death by her request to enter Flemeth's hut and take the book? She did not know. She only knew that just like Morjalaine, Flemeth had taught all her tricks, and anything was possible. Anything could happen.

Everyone could die.

And Morrigan knew it.

But, Morrigan was willing to place that chance. She was willing to put her comrades in danger. Why? She was not certain if it was because she had faith in their abilities or if she truly did not care as much as she thought she did, or something else, but she knew she was willing to make everyone pay for her own sake.

The ends justify the means. That was what she wanted to believe. That was what she did believe. But . . . was it right? Was the bard correct, like all those other times? Should she care more? Should she consider other's lives, do what she could for them?

It was very much against what she had been raised to believe.

But then, it was just as different for Leliana as well. The bard's life, how had that been? Terrifying, she had said. Exciting, she had said.

Terrifying and exciting. Exactly what Morrigan felt on the subject of Flemeth. On one hand, she would have everything she dreamed of, on the other, lose everything.

But there was that bard saying it was okay.

"Bard?"

"Hm?"

"Do you perhaps think that all ends justify the means?"

"I did. Every assignment I was given, I believed that. Every second up until that moment of betrayal. They may in some cases. One can never be sure. It's a secret, no?"

"Secrets. How positively inconvenient."

A fifty-fifty chance that Morrigan would have to take.

I realize they were both out of character slightly at some parts, but it's difficult writing things like this with Morrigan. She's so hard to find excuses to open up .-.

Anyways. I hope you enjoyed. I am planning on a third chapter, and that will be the end. Probably.