xxxXXXxxx

Morrigan didn't notice her immediately. Years fighting in shadows had apparently given the woman something of their own nature. The elf waited patiently at the threshold of her room, watching as the witch waited for the boy to fall asleep. All the while, she smiled and the smile was so familiar, it brought back nights around a fire, confessions and a tentative friendship formed between one which had never managed to befriend another race and one who had lacked the chance to befriend anyone.

"You are not supposed to be here."

She had no idea she would miss the woman. And she had no idea her throat would tighten upon meeting her once more.

"You'll find I tend to be in all the places I am not supposed to be," the other woman replied quietly. "Teagan doesn't mind it nearly as much as he says."

"In case you have not noticed, I am not your husband, Tasha."

Tasha. The name hadn't left her lips in years. It was always Warden-Commander or the Arlessa or the Hero. Never Tasha because that woman was her friend – or had been her friend – and to remember was to miss and Morrigan most certainly did not miss anyone, especially not her long-lost first friend.

The elf's footfalls were soft and almost silent as she entered, stopping right by her, a heavy hand falling against her shoulder. Morrigan almost shivered, almost recoiled. No one touched her bar Kieran those days and the weight on her skin was so comforting, so familiar, the witch felt a ridiculous wish to swallow. She closed her eyes instead, strongly, for one beat of her heart. On her shoulder, fingers tightened and refused to let go.

"He looks strong," Tasha whispered softly. "A good boy. Gentle. I spoke to him a little in the garden."

A shiver ran through her spine. "How did you do that? I didn't see you!"

"Again, I'm good at being unnoticed when I want to." Tasha leaned over her to touch a strand of her boy's hair, caringly, almost reverently. "I was going to ride to Redcliffe but I couldn't just walk by. Leliana would be incredibly angry." It was more than that, wasn't it? The way Tasha looked at Kieran, her blue eyes filled with affection, it spoke of something Morrigan couldn't understand completely. "You saved me and you saved him. I never thanked you."

She knew. Someone, she knew it wasn't just Kieran sleeping in that bed.

Morrigan pulled back as if suddenly stabbed, her eyes open in sudden surprise. "How do you…?" No. Don't laugh. Don't you dare laugh about this, Tasha.

And she wasn't. The elf's features were contorted in an expression which seemed unfamiliar. This was the Commander, the woman who had been born out of the Warden Morrigan had known. Older and wiser and infinitely more dangerous if she wished to be.

"I took the final blow, Morrigan. There's no real way I wouldn't know. We were one for a moment and I would never forget." The witch's eyes opened widely at that. They were? That moment, she had already walked back, ready to flee before anyone noticed. Tasha had kept her memories secret, safely stored away as something sacred and her gestures towards the boy were all of affectionate and loving, as if he was her own child. The urge to take hold of Kieran faded, an imaginary threat fading into the shadows. "You did good to him. He feels happy. Like the world will be just fine as long as you are around to keep him safe. I felt the same towards my mother."

And that, as far as Tasha went, was it. It was the greatest compliment she could do about Morrigan's choices and the consequences they brought. Thoughts kept running through the black-haired woman's head, why, how, was she sure, what was she hiding, were they connected and invariably they returned to that elf and how absolutely honest each and every word leaving her lips was.

"Thank you," Morrigan replied. Honestly. It even surprised herself.

It drew another smile from her friend.

"Will you be staying?" The witch asked after a long silent moment. "The Seeker kept asking about your whereabouts. Surely, it wou—"

Tasha was already shaking her head even before the sentence was over. "I have my own tasks to undertake. Varen will have the Wardens returned to Soldier's Peak soon, according to the messages I received. Distance keeps us from feeling the Calling, you see?"

"How about Corypheus?"

The Warden scoffed lightly. "Please. There will always be one big monster to destroy or another demon or another dragon and Maker forbid any of them is not world-threatening. The Inquisitor has things well on hand. My presence here would serve little bar undermine her alliance with our order. No." Another shake of the familiar face. "I will be more useful back home, making sure the Wardens actually help the Inquisition instead of worsening the situation. Really. What in the world was going through Clarel's mind…?"

It felt truth but it wasn't the whole truth and it felt so good to still be able to see it. This woman had learned to keep secrets as well. As any good Warden.

"'Tis hard for you to be here," Morrigan declared dryly.

"For all us." There. Laughter and that was Tasha all over again, the elf who could find some amusement in dark corners, who liked prodding people merely because she could. She wasn't just the Warden-Commander and that allowed Morrigan to breathe easy once more. "Like someone calling me to rest when I am dead sure I don't feel like sleeping any time soon. Tiresome but ignorable. I'd rather the rest of us kept ignoring it as well, even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming all the way."

"And there's your Arl."

"Another reason for my detour. I will be having words with Fiona before leaving." Morrigan had a brief image of the type of words Tasha had with people who raised a hand against her family and, clearly, didn't care enough to intervene. "Oh, don't worry." The mage certainly didn't. "I won't kill her. Alistair would have my hide. That doesn't mean I can't have a serious conversation with the woman who threw my family onto the streets."

If there was a way that conversation wouldn't become violent, Tasha had changed more than Morrigan could ever predict.

"You truly cannot stay?"

Instead of replying, Tasha leaned closer, arms enveloping the witch's shoulders. Morrigan closed her eyes. On that moment, they were back in Denerim, back on the very top of Fort Draken with the roar of Urthemiel on their ears and death on Tasha's eyes. Make sure you have a long life, you hear me? And Morrigan had. Every day since then, every time she heard the undertone of Urthemiel's soul slipping through his child's demeanor.

"When this is over come to Redcliffe. You will always have a home there." The last thing Morrigan felt before the elf slipped away was a final kiss on her forehead, a very first touch of care. "And tell my godson I expect a proper hug when you arrive."

And she wondered if it would be possible.