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Minor Edit: March 28th, 2014
Skinny Love
by Archristol
Disclaimer: I don't own Morrigan or the other Dragon Age characters. Ophelia Cousland's all mine, however. Song lyrics aren't mine.
Chapter 7 - Bernal Heights
I never really felt the weight of family on my back,
I just carry myself because there is nothing I have,
If there were ever moments when I felt the rhythm of life,
It was as fleeting as I, plus I never look back.
[-]
Everyone in the group was aware that Ophelia was an efficient and charismatic leader, despite her quirkiness (which they adored, nonetheless.) She had managed to save a village from possessed zombies, utilizing all possible manpower. She had managed to save a crumbling mage institution, still preserving its structure apart from the controlling Templars. She had managed to save Connor, withholding blood magic as an option thanks to gathered aid from a dozen mages and – lest one ever forget – Morrigan. There was no doubt that when she had devised a plan – the plan would work seamlessly. Because of this, her followers had believed in and depended on her to make every move in their journey without much dispute. Well… Except for Morrigan. For the very first time, however, someone else would be joining her in dispute.
"Leliana," Ophelia called, the only one standing in the assembly.
"Yes?" Leliana responded from her seated place on a rock ledge, eager to be paired with someone. She noted Ophelia's strange pause in between her name and the following second name – it did not occur with the others. There was a glint in her sapphire eyes that hoped to be assigned with the blonde woman. She enjoyed their nightly talks, but a special alone time with the leading Grey Warden had long been awaited.
Then suddenly, Ophelia's glass orbs veered to the other woman unassigned, quickly shattering Leliana's dreams to pieces. "And Morrigan."
"What?" the mentioned incompatible women harmonized the famous one word question in repugnance, almost jumping off their seats. They eyed each other with obvious uncertainty and hidden disgust then eyed Ophelia with even more obvious uncertainty and hidden disgust.
Ophelia clarified somewhat amusingly, "You two heard correctly. Diamond Quarter. That's your area. Leliana can take the lead, seeing that she's more apt for initiating conversations, but consider anything Morrigan has to say that's not completely cynical. Is that too hard?"
"But that's… You know we don't…" Leliana tried to complain by means of their joint bellicose antipathy. She had exerted herself too much, subduing her great indignation for the witch, and now Ophelia wanted for them to inevitably confront one another by teaming up for a task?
"You're mad!" Morrigan glared at the rogue's nonsensicalness then jutted a palm towards Zevran's direction angrily, "Why not pair me up with the elf if you must divide us into twos, giving me the lesser of the evils?"
"Ooh! Ooh! Yes, I do agree on that–––!" Zevran failed to express his joy in full by being ignored and Ophelia answering the question quite speedily.
"Yea, you're probably right that I'm mad. And, to answer your question, because I just like tormenting you both, I guess," Ophelia chuckled while the dark head did her usual yield with a roll of her eyes skywards, which eventually dropped dead on the floor.
"This will…" Leliana sighed deeply, "This will not be easy…" Leliana composed herself by working her breathing and wringing her gloved wrists. It was a test.
"You can do it, Leliana. I have faith in you," Ophelia continued, "As for me… I will be with Alistair, deliberating with Harrowmont and Bhelen associates directly."
"Hooray!" Alistair pleasantly threw his fists in the air.
But his celebrating plane crashed shortly from its takeoff. "It will be a learning experience, Alistair. Not for me to carry your weight."
"Blast!" his arms fell limp, "This is about me possibly being king, isn't it?"
"Yes. You'll get the hang of it," Ophelia established, bestowing him a small smile. She clasped her hands together loudly, the signal for dismissal echoing in the Hall of Heroes, "Alright my lovely minions… Find any useful information concerning the two candidates at the sectors given. It can be anyone! A peasant, commoner, nobleman… Some basic questions you could ask could be…" she kept on talking as they stood with spiteful groans, "How do they feel about them… What do they think each one can surely contribute if put on the throne... If one had slept with the other's wife... Whatever. Squeeze them dry of information." As members began to take their own routes, she added, "Oh! And by the way, separation is not recommended unless it is absolutely necessary. Okay guys? Remember, rendezvous point is at camp around supper!"
[-]
When I was younger oh my appetite for power was large,
And I would take what I need because I always took charge,
And now I see the people struggle from the top where I stand,
And I get all that I need, but there is nothing I have.
[-]
Orzammar, in general, was a city of magnificent architecture: thickset buildings, intricate designs, bravura statues; highlighted with natural illumination from the flowing lava deep underneath the Frostback Mountains. Despite being home to pint-sized dwarves, its ceilings extended high, inside and outside its well-built homes.
Setting foot at Orzammar's pinnacle – the highest point, the topmost tier, the royal palace and the noble caste's residence – it would definitely render newcomers openmouthed. Its platform almost hovered over the rest of the city, looking down upon the lower neighborhoods with splendor like a painter's panorama. The aura of grandeur at the Diamond Quarters was at a wholly different level, regardless of the turmoil amongst the radical parties that house them.
That was why it would be an inexplicable mystery why two women who had never been there before rendered no sounds of surprise and, instead, plagued the splendid aura like darkspawn blood tainting an aspiring Grey Warden, as they trampled over its cobblestone floors.
Leliana and Morrigan ascended atop the structured hill without an exchange of words – and not even a single glance. Their tight countenance was subtle, a mere crook on their eyebrows and inward grits of their teeth to signify their strong discomfort.
The first house came to view, and Morrigan laggardly waited behind Leliana while she spoke with the guards for invitation.
It was an assessment – if she had the self-control not to shove the bard off a cliff and into a pit of hot lava. The female Warden had her streaks of bizarre notions, but this was the weirdest of all. Did she expect her to be so reformed that she would dare communicate with this red headed woman and not preemptively kill her in the process?
A door was opened for Leliana, who went ahead without a hint for a holler inside. Morrigan scoffed nasally then barged in after her, glowering at the undersized henchmen that ogled her.
[-]
The night is everything and nothing in the city of fog,
I feel the cool of the breeze, I feel the coming of dawn,
But there is comfort in the silence of the Heights of Bernal,
It isn't ever enough to cure the loneliest hearts.
[-]
About five or so houses, the Shaperate, and three hours of chitchatting later, the shunning duo visited the tallest edifice in the district – the Royal Palace. Save for guards and a few subordinate dwarves, the unrestricted part of the dynasty was pretty much destitute.
Morrigan marched irascibly, catching up with Leliana at the quiet hallway, "Did you mistake me for a deaf coward?" She stomped for a stop as Leliana swerved around to meet her sneering face. "I heard you back there. Did you think I would allow you to patronize me while you rambled away with that silver-tongue of yours?" Her tone was not totally angry but it was condescending in a nonchalant manner.
Leliana countered fearlessly, "I don't know what you mean. And don't make fun of me when I'm perfectly doing all the work." She held her bearing firmly, assertive enough not to be a pushover but stifling enough not be aggressive.
"Ha!" Morrigan smirked mockingly, "As if you did not wish to do this on your own?" Her arm and hands waved for a transitory whimsical shrug then folded for her validation, "Don't be twofaced and show a bit of gratitude – I had gladly stepped out of your way throughout this ridiculous assignment."
Leliana found no humor in her words and said seriously, "I owe you no thanks. You're the one that owes something. After the things you've said about me, why should I bother?"
"My, my, Leliana..." Morrigan protracted her deriding pronunciation of the syllables. "Grudges, hmm? How many times have you relished in the dream of pulling your bow string and firing a sharpened arrow through my head, I wonder? Did you revel in the delightful sound of it impaling my skull, splitting my brain into bloody bits and pieces?" She recited her envisioned death like a tale worth writing by the bard.
"I am not that immoral, though I am completely capable of that crime," Leliana's gaze deterred for a moment then she admitted, "You are... Unpleasant, Morrigan, but you are not worth the effort." She finally gave in under exasperation, "I won't argue anymore. We should've parted ways early on. I'm finishing this by myself."
"Haha~ A most excellent choice. Do tarry longer, if you can," Morrigan gestured a careless shooing motion with one hand, "Go on then."
Leliana pivoted around and spat under her breath, "Bitch..."
The sorceress happily watched the red head as she stormed away, boots clicking on the smoothly tiled floor. Once the other woman turned on a corner, she took her leave in the opposite path, languidly studying the ornate walls while she walked.
She was not harmful in her disapproval… And prevented the use of direct insults. She couldn't be blamed for the outcome, could she? Whatever. She was not going to be portrayed as the slightest fool to anyone, not even to the lowest dwarf peasant she may never come across again.
Morrigan's musings abruptly ceased as she spotted an elegant jar. Her shapely thin eyebrows rose as she tested its authenticity with a light touch. If anything, dwarves mastered constructing objects with sophistication.
Then tremors unexpectedly rumbled beneath the surface.
The vase would've littered the floor as shards if Morrigan was jittery, but she wasn't. For a couple of seconds, she stayed put and observed either side of the coolly lit gallery for a clue.
Then Leliana's high-pitched yelp reverberated.
She hastily followed its origin, running with her staff readily gripped. She retraced her old steps and entered the hallway where they disconnected, the continuous snap of a bowstring propelling arrows discernable to her ears.
A concluding turn later, she discovered Leliana being cornered to a wall by three armed dwarves. When they lifted their hammers to pound the outnumbered woman, Morrigan extended her staff outwards and unleashed a cone of blizzard. Her magic speedily engulfed the men in frozen ice, then Leliana hurried out of her range.
Morrigan's staff consecutively burst out a scorching stream of fire then an excruciating stream of lightning, melting the ice before she electrocuted them.
She laughed while they wailed, bumping into each other as they struggled with the sparking jolts. If this was the dwarven magic resistance that she studied of, they served it no justice.
They eventually stumbled and broke down like cockroaches to a bug spray, rolling unto their backs while they grunted and kicked.
A palace guard strode into the scene, perplexed by the happenstance. "Tunneling thieves?" he queried throatily.
Morrigan and Leliana gawked at him; they were contiguous to one another at an inch, the closest they've ever been in physical proximity.
Detecting the labor they spared him, he grumbled, "Thank you... Err-Grey Warden helpers."
"You're welcome," Leliana replied to escape awkwardness.
"I'll go get the other guards and arrest these men. Could you...?"
They nodded immediately and he bowed as a courtesy then departed.
Morrigan approached the rubble cautiously and inspected the large hole on the ground. Three other dwarves surrounded it, sobbing about the arrows that pierced their limbs. With her cat eyes glued to the gaping wreckage, she decided to blurt out of its hilarity, "These dumb muggers emerged from underground?" her voice was half-curious, half-gibing, "Did they not contemplate on the noise 'twould make beforehand?" she shook her head for indignity on the failed heist, "This tops the list of stupidities that boggle the mind, by far..."
Leliana slowly appeared from behind and spoke sincerely, "I... Thought you've left."
Morrigan's countenance was indifferent when she regarded her, "I sensed the vibrations and examined it, does it require further explanation?"
"Well... I appreciate... You coming back. It could've been worse," Leliana fiddled with her fingers, coy in gratifying the witch.
Morrigan refused to acknowledge her and relied on a red herring, "A rare coincidence that buried fools erupt from the ground whence I leave."
Leliana giggled a little, "It is a bit amusing..." then she reassured, "You should know... If I said something offending a while ago, it wasn't intentional..." She pondered; Ophelia was right with Morrigan, to offer patience. Everyone must be, if she was to change.
Morrigan sighed then declared in an apathetic tune, "I have already built a bridge and gotten over it minutes ago, if you must know."
Leliana's lips curved up by a smidgen but Morrigan didn't see it. "Anyway, I've thought it through, and I think what I've gathered should be sufficient. I should be leaving with you once they return..."
Morrigan artfully did a sideways once-over, "Suit yourself..."
[-]
And when the rising of the sun wakes edges of clouds,
I see the shadows of towers, I see the pain of the dark,
And for a moment I could understand the joy of the light,
But such a thought is naive so then I come back to life.
[-]
They gradually made it back to the crux of all entrances and exits – the Orzammar Commons. It was a lot more crowded than the rest of the city, with its numerous shops and pubs... And rabbit-pig creatures that were strenuously being chased around. Although less tense, Morrigan and Leliana remained distant and silent on their trip, until they made it to the loud atmosphere – wherein Leliana contributed to the clamor by jabbering to herself. Morrigan paid no attention, excluding the next topic...
"Ophelia's an amazing woman isn't she?" Leliana couldn't keep her mouth shut and spilled her nosiness. "Brilliant, confident, athletic, witty, funny, beautiful..." She was conscious of the circumstance that Morrigan was closer to their leader than everybody else in the team. And so, she took advantage of the opportunity. "But even though she knows these things, she managed to keep her modesty... I can't find a reason to hate her. Anyone can easily admire her. She's extremely likeable."
"Will you insist on this petty babbling to yourself?" Morrigan whined, "Ugh… 'Tis almost beyond endurance. I might just resort to crawling into a bush and dying, as Alistair once prayed the absurdity."
"I think... I'm starting to see what Ophelia saw in you. Of course, the cunning woman that she is, I never realized until recently that under that thick barbed skin of yours – you really do have a heart," Leliana attempted to catch her unshakable stare while they trudged forward.
"Listen and understand this fully..." Morrigan granted her consideration, "I helped you because if anything were to happen to you, the first to blame would be me."
"But the fact remains that you cared enough to save me. You could manipulate them with a lie: tell them I went astray and got myself kidnapped or killed. Yet you didn't. It would've been the perfect opportunity to," Leliana justified.
If Morrigan's eyeballs were screwed on, they would come off from their constant rotating from the constant annoyance. "Ophelia cannot be fooled that effortlessly. She would search for evidence and find suspects till hell freezes over, this I am certain."
"You mean... You simply fear our leader and punishment, therefore you save me?"
She moaned fretfully then claimed, "Yes! 'Tis precisely what I meant by blame. Unsurprising that 'twas not clear enough for you at the start."
Leliana gave up, "Oh? Okay. If you say so..." But she knew she was feasibly accurate with her assumption.
"I am understood at last?" Morrigan exhaled an unfathomable breath, "Oh, I am truly relieved."
Morrigan was spared from the wrath of Leliana's bothersome vocal chords… But only for a minute or two.
"I hope you don't mind..." Leliana reinitiated.
"No. I do mind," the dark head contested in monotone.
"You must be fascinated by her as much as I am! I think you don't mind!" Leliana persuaded quite enthusiastically.
"Even if I was, I have no need to share it verbally."
Leliana persisted with her subject nonetheless, "I've always wanted to learn more about her. Her family... Her childhood... Her lovers in the past... I'm sure you know more than I, and I wish to know."
"If you are desperately curious, why not beleaguer her yourself?" Morrigan suggested irritably.
"She's busy... And avoids personal topics with me."
"I am beginning to regret doing this entire thing..."
Leliana probed mercilessly, "C'mon tell me something interesting! Please? Just one!"
Morrigan threw her head back momentarily, "Ugghh... You are sounding more like that pestering mutt of hers..."
"It can be anything. Oh! What's her last name? You must know that."
Morrigan's rosy lips instantly sealed in a tight line, a pang of shame for little interest in the rogue's personal life stabbing at her sentiment. What did she truthfully know about the blonde rogue? They never discussed her in their heartfelt conversations. The woman was a mystery. "I... Do not know."
Leliana identified her uneasiness, "Uhm... That's fine... Anything you know then."
Anything she knew?
Besides what everyone else knew?
It was difficult…
There was only one thing…
"She's skillful beneath the sheets, for someone without a phallus. She stimulates me to the point that I spurt out some type of liquid. It feels in-cre~dib-ly good."
Leliana's mouth flew open, "Ohh... That's-err..." She gulped a huge lump in her throat, "Thank you, that'll do."
"And there is still hope for this day, after all…"
"Morrigan! Leliana! Come here!" Zevran's distinguishable shout toppled the boisterous town square.
Morrigan and Leliana skewed their heads to find him at the other side of a giant focal statue, pointing to a shop that also piqued their interest. When he vanished inside the store, they inquisitively progressed toward it.
"A souvenir shop?" Leliana quizzed while they arrived.
"No-no. There are weapons, as well," Zevran corrected. "There is a sexy dagger here, actually… A fine blade I particularly desire – The Rose's Thorn… Oh… But alas, I am coinless…"
"Oh, thank the maker…" Wynne joined their circle with a comforted mien, "I am no longer alone with Zevran."
"What? I have done nothing wrong."
"From Wynne's evident detachment from you prior to this conversation, I think you have," Leliana chuckled.
And here, the witch twitched for separation. Uninterested for additional blather, Morrigan proceeded onwards to investigate the musky boutique. They didn't bother her as she diverged from the group soundlessly. It was typical.
She briefly scrutinized each trinket, crystal, and jewelry displayed as she passed, hung dim lanterns warming her to a solace. A couple of aisles later, she recognized a familiar mirror on a display rack. It had a golden frame and a nicely polished glass. She grasped it and admired its posterior: a deer and some sparrows frolicking in a charming scene. Smiling to herself, she then tilted it to reflect her visage. She meditated on her physical beauty – she accepted that she was, in fact, exotic and beautiful and was arrogant about it. Next, she dwelled upon her very entity – and if she was satisfied with what she saw. And for a split-second, she had a rush of déjà vu.
[-]
When I was younger oh my appetite for power was large,
And I would take what I need because I always took charge,
And now I see the people struggle from the top where I stand,
And I get all that I need, but there is nothing I have.
[-]
"This day was unforgiving... Wynne was cruel! So very cruel! And she won't let me lay my head on her bosom!" Zevran cried in exaggeration as Ophelia arrived with Alistair, after a long wait at camp.
She patted him on the shoulder and scowled in sympathy, "Aww… You poor deprived thing. That's unfortunate," she consoled, "But you'll live," then she moved for their crowded bonfire with Alistair and Zevran trailing her.
Nutella barked to welcome her as she halted in front of them, Alistair and Zevran settling in their own seats with the rest.
"It's here. Good. If it made me dally for hours on end doing nothing, I thought it might as well have left me as a statue," Shale scoffed, disappointed.
"Yes… Deal with this, once and for all," Sten impatiently requested from the shadows.
Sten, Shale, and Nutella were stationed at camp since morning, when their jobs were delegated. They were merely instructed to practice together.
"Sorry Shale and Sten. Politics, y'know... Boring."
"Boring is an understatement," Alistair pouted, his grimace rendering muted snickers.
The senior enchanter was first to stand and protest wearily, "Andraste's grace… I beg of you... Please do not pair me up with Zevran again. All he ever talks about is my bosom…"
Ophelia figured that Wynne and Zevran wouldn't have trouble getting along and would balance each other out in terms of political knowledge. Thusly, she had designated them to handle the busiest division in Orzammar – the Orzammar Commons.
"Honestly?" she questioned rhetorically then cackled, slapping a knee from sheer joy, "Oh Zevran... Harassing Wynne... Wonderful."
"You encourage this?" Wynne demurred with a shudder.
"N-no." Ophelia forcibly contained herself, "Of course not," her tone became stern then she glowered at the tan man, "Zevran… Wynne's bosom is off-limits..." But immaturity was etched in her character and she restrained herself from cracking up, her obsidian lips negligibly quivering, "Discipline your libido..."
Zevran sniveled in defeat with his head down, "Yes... I will do my best."
Wynne nodded, satisfied for the moment, then sat calmly on her stool.
Ophelia rearranged her pose, "Any other grievances that needs to be brought up?" she prodded, her platinum irises apparent with intent to incite Morrigan or Leliana to rat the other one out.
The apostate and Orlesian traded a speechless gaze, communicating telepathically.
To reveal the tiny mishap at the Royal Palace and reveal what occurred before it?
Naaah.
They shook their heads in unison for a 'no.'
"Okay then..." Ophelia crossed her arms to prepare for business, "Let's put everyone's notes together, discuss them, and vote. Complete this before my stomach grumbles..."
Subsequent to a dozen yawns from every member and a hundred grunts of displeasure from Alistair, they managed to write a decent summary and deliberate with it. The most active debaters were Ophelia and Wynne, but Ophelia commanded Alistair to speak up. Leliana would sneak in her minor inputs, Morrigan would enlighten with memorized facts, and Zevran would either comment educated guesses or assassination jests (in which case, he was hushed.)
"So, to sum it all up…" Ophelia scratched at her temple then read what she wrote, "Overall, Bhelen is radical and progressive. He believes the ends justify the means, wants to encourage trade, and respects and employs casteless dwarves," she tapped on her notes for a pause, "And Harrowmont is a traditionalist. He believes in honorable conduct, leans more toward isolationism, and – who would've guessed – he's a strong proponent of tradition." She concluded, "Is there anything incorrect about these details?"
No one uttered a word.
"Good. Now we vote…" she scanned her temporary committee then began, "Alistair?"
Alistair braced himself together with a sharp inhale and balling of his fists, "Err… Everything Bhelen promised seems like a good thing. But he sounds corrupt…"
Ophelia interrupted, "Yes, Alistair. We're done with evaluations. You can calm down."
"Oh." He tittered, slouching, "Uhm… Harrowmont."
"Wynne?"
"Harrowmont."
"Zevran?"
"Harrowmont…?"
"Morrigan? If you choose Harrowmont, we choose him."
Morrigan flatly stated the contrary, "Bhelen."
Ophelia chortled faintly. She had anticipated that much. "Choosing him because you like to disagree, don't you?"
"If you are certain that Harrowmont will win the voting, then why even ask me?" Morrigan retorted.
"I like to hear your voice…"
Shale mentioned in a low voice, "This pair is reminiscent of the married villagers that regularly whirled kitchen objects at each other. Oh... It was a fascinating spectacle... One I could fancy."
"Ah, so you have perceived what I have perceived... Morrigan does require more bedding," Zevran whispered in reply.
Morrigan overheard and glared at him, "What's that Zevran? Something you wish to share?"
"Alright, alright," Ophelia swiftly regained control, desisting Morrigan from excoriating Zevran with her eyes, "I apologize for getting us in a tangent…" she rubbed at her chin, "Leliana?"
"It feels odd to say it now, but… Harrowmont."
"Fine. Harrowmont it is."
[-]
I left my home, my love, and friends,
Now pride and loneliness remain,
The tower I built is meaningless,
I yearn for touch and happiness.
[-]
The prolonged political burden of determining who the Grey Wardens should assist in placement on the throne was ultimately completed. They ate dinner, washed up, and promptly resided in their bedrolls, the difficulty of the day's task seemingly tougher than what they had usually involved themselves in.
Morrigan sauntered towards Ophelia's tent. The scoundrel was sitting on a medium-sized log, focused on untying a knot on her boots when she disrupted, "I have come to notice..."
Ophelia was bent over, struggling in removing her boots as she peeked sweetly, an eyebrow slanting, "Eehh?" She always had an air of thin but charming peculiarity meshed with a unique swagger of austerity.
Morrigan gracefully plopped down next to her and continued, "That you haven't exposed much about yourself as I have, from the times we've chattered."
"Of pointless information?"
"Yes."
"Ohhh," Ophelia drew her socked foot out and gave the dark head her unbridled devotion, "You finally wish to be indulged in return?"
"No," Morrigan explained, her expression edgy but fundamentally compassionate, "Well... 'Twould only be fair if I held the same amount of information you hold of me, is it not?"
"Mmkay. I get it. For plotting purposes..." Ophelia shifted in her cinder chiffon tunic as if to relax for the impending interview, "Go on. Ask me anything."
"To begin with... Your mother... You mentioned you loved her and implied that was all I needed to know," Morrigan pried tentatively, "My question is... Where is this mother of yours?"
"She's far away." Ophelia's cool silver eyes were stiffly forthright.
Morrigan didn't surrender. "'Far away' where?"
"Highever."
"Highever? Is that in the north?" She could discern that the cunning woman was anxious because of her fast and direct answers.
"Yes. Next question?"
"Who else constitutes your family?"
"I have a father, a mother, an older brother, a nephew... Next question."
She could no longer bear the scanty responses, "You seem uptight with my questions, mind if I asked why?"
Ophelia played her habitual witty façade, "Haha. I'm just terrified to be interrogated by a sagacious temptress, nothing more."
"I see. I should do this more often," Morrigan sharply intoned, though for comedy.
"Next question."
"Mmm..." she reflected for a matter she couldn't shun straightforwardly, an index on her lips, "That girl from the Fade who nearly brought you to tears... Who was that girl?"
"Oh... Her?" Ophelia itched an arm, "She's my best friend and mentor. She taught me everything I know."
"Oh?" But she gave no name...
"Funny story how we met, actually..."
"Do tell."
"She... Was trying to steal something from my house."
"Oh yes. As I recall, you are a wealthy noblewoman, are you not?" Morrigan referred to their dialogue in Flemeth's hut, when the Warden first awoke from her injuries.
"Yes. It's no matter now... Do you want to hear the story?" Ophelia offered generously.
Morrigan batted her eyelashes in suppressed eureka. She was going to tell a story? She covertly wet her lips, pressing them inside her mouth, then smiled, "Yes." She tucked a hand securely in the crook of her neck and jaw, ardent to heed her story.
Ophelia shared her smile then adjusted her posture. She reclined her head backwards and stargazed, "I was young, barely five years old. It started this one week at our estate, where suddenly our primary chef complained to my mother about stocks of food missing. It wasn't rats or any other vermin, since it was clean. To try and alleviate the problem, my mother ordered the guards to be on the lookout for thieves. Of course, guards are good but they get distracted," she glimpsed at Morrigan fleetingly and continually to check her attentiveness, the light of their puny camp fire glowing against her face in a way that accentuated her vulnerable aspect. "Like I assumed, a few days passed and no thieves were caught. That's when my detective skills first came to play and thought, 'I could wait for them exactly where the food is.' One night, I did just that and hid inside one of the crates in the pantry room for an hour or so around midnight." She regarded Morrigan humorously and ascertained, "Yes I snuck out of bed… At any rate, sure enough, as painstakingly boring it was – I even fell asleep – I heard creaking from a hidden doorway. I peered between the narrow splits of the crate then found the culprits to be three preteens, thirteen to fifteen year old kids... Unafraid, I brashly punched the lid off of my crate and made a shocking horrific sound, like the merge of a ghost and a bear. They recoiled with a squeal and tripped on their feet," she gesticulated with proper hand and arm movements for better visualization then provided a mild cliffhanger, "Except for one…"
Morrigan developed a conjecture, "'Tis the girl?"
"Yes. You would think that after I busted them she would be fearful... But no. Not her." At this part, Ophelia passionately got into her storytelling, making more comprehensible gestures and speaking in a more affected tone. "She glared at me and had the audacity to insult me saying, 'That's the best you can do, kid? You sound like a squirming pig being butchered.'"
She began to chuckle in her anecdote, "I laughed then threatened as she advanced on me, 'You know who would sound like a squirming pig begging for freedom once I yell for guards? You will.' And she stopped dead on her tracks. She stared at me intently for a few seconds, and then lunged after me. Too bad for her, I was quick and evaded her. I opened my mouth wide to demonstrate a scream but she made shushing noises and I didn't. I grinned at her victoriously as she pleaded, 'Okay, what do you want, kid? If we give it to you, will you let us leave peacefully?' The good child that I was, I simply asked, 'Can we be friends?'"
Her eyes merrily locked with Morrigan's, "I was desperate for fun and a different perspective from noble life. Her group was perfect," then they were lost in the glamorous stars once again, "She looked at me with disgust and said, 'What? No. Get lost kid.' So I was seriously going to yell for the second time, but then she said okay. I asked for something valuable from her as an incentive so I don't get cheated – 'cause I was smart. She was about to hand me a necklace when she attempted to strangle me again. She grabbed me by the wrists, so I stomped on her foot. When she tried to cover my mouth, I bit her. And after that... I got a compliment of how canny I was... "
She slowed down and her fathomable acting ended, reverting to her previous and less keen countenance, "Then we became best friends… I hung out with her by convincing my mother to let her keep watch of me. First, just in the house, and she would teach me simple roguish things. Later though, it evolved to adventures outside. She took me out for hysterical escapades with her friends, and I happily obliged with whatever she had to teach." She gulped for a finish, "Good times..."
"That was… An interesting story. Thank you for sharing." Morrigan's eyelids fluttered as she stared on the ground transiently. She sighed then delved a hand in her skirt's pocket, rifling for an unadorned rosewood ring. Scooping it out, she declared, "I have something for you."
Ophelia leaned in, absorbed by the looming present, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I have a gift for you," Morrigan snatched her smoothly tanned hand and placed the ring on her palm, "'Tis a ring. Now, before you get any foolish notions, let me explain…" She jabbered, "Flemeth once gave me the ring because it allowed her to find me no matter where I went, in case I was ever captured by hunters. I disabled its power as soon as we left the Wilds. Recently, however, I thought to change it. Now, I will be able to find whoever wears it instead."
Ophelia gasped in astonishment, "AH-HA! And the plot thickens!"
Morrigan almost snarled, unappreciative of her witticism, "'Tis not to track you! I believe you are too important to risk. If you were to get captured, however, it would be far easier to find you with this."
Ophelia retrieved her hand and scrutinized the band, "Oh? Does it do anything else?"
Morrigan appeased her in her explanatory voice, "Flemeth used to say 'twas a link between us, one that I presumed worked both ways. I never tested it, but I doubt she would have lied over such a thing. So it would mean I am linked to you as much as you to I."
The blonde investigated, "So I could find you, if need be?"
"I… Do not know," Morrigan hesitated, the idea disconcerting her by a tad, "As I said, I never tested it. Perhaps."
"So you're giving it to me purely out of practicality?"
She wanted to discourage whatever maudlin hopes the rogue had and amended, "I… Have no desire to see us part company so soon. Not unless we wish to, that is. Do not read more into it than is there. You have supplied me with equipment, certainly this is not so very different, is it?"
Ophelia bobbed her head in understanding, a little saddened by the mage's compulsory hollowness, "Well… Thank you for the gift."
"You… Are welcome. Perhaps it will be useful some day."
"Uhm… I have something for you too…" Not to be outshined in gift-giving, Ophelia twisted her upper body and seized a wrapped box behind her. She carefully raised it from the grassy floor then propped it on Morrigan's lap, "Open it."
Morrigan gaped at her for a second then undid the ropey cords of the present. She removed the brown paper wrapper and uncovered a red carton. Her fingers traced the opening edge of the box, then she stuck a thumb in and unfastened it open.
Her bright golden globes sparkled at what they have discovered, her mouth freeing a breath of stupefaction. She clutched the golden mirror up and marveled at the accessory – the same exact mirror she found at the store, and just as identical as the mirror she once cherished to have as a child.
An infant tear departed from its tear ducts but failed to run down a flushed cheek.
Morrigan banned herself from crying. She would not cry. Especially not for a silly bauble.
But it was too much emotion for her for one single day…
And a caring finger wiped the tear before it plummeted.
[-]
I carve my path in stone,
My pride is all I need,
My demons stay inside me,
My rage, my lust, my greed.
Song
"Bernal Heights" by Jhameel
Feedback for My Time
Andy Lewis: Haha. I know right? My first ever full smut. Thanks for reviewing!
Dalish Elf: I played ME2. Sadly, I didn't fall in love with it. D: Morrigan's so much better than Miranda though, IMHO. Anyway, that would explain why some people are probably not reading or reviewing... Thanks for reviewing!
Gemini1179: Yea... Morrigan's always going to be like that. Ophelia likes her that way, anyway. ;D Thanks for coming back and reviewing! Glad I didn't lose you. :)
Moral Attention: Haha. They're both playing hard to get. Ophelia's making all the moves but she's pretending not to be so into her. XD Thanks for reviewing!
EmberOfSoul1323: Wow. You have no idea how glad I am to hear that... That means there's a possibility someone else who's never played it would be equally entertained. Thank you for this compliment and all the compliments, really. You've inspired me to write even better. And I forgive you, after all these lovely compliments! And also, I don't care if it's just a one liner saying... "Great chapter." I would really appreciate that than nothing at all.
whiskered oranges: Yes, most RPG games are best played on a PC for more customization. LOL about you reading the last chapter while doing homework and other things. That's great multi-tasking. XD And yes, it could be confusing since they're two women and that means I have to use her and she a lot. I love the song too. One of my favorites. Thanks for reviewing.
Rin Ryosuke: I added some Shale banter here, just for you! Shale and Sten do seem like they're about to fall in love in one of their conversations. It might be on YouTube, I'm not sure... But it's really interesting. LOL. Thanks for reviewing again and glad I didn't lose you!
Unnamed Anon: Thank you for reviewing! Did you make it to this chapter? I can't tell since you stopped at chapter 3. XD Glad you like how I portray the main characters.
The rest of you... Drop a line, will you?
A/N: I constantly try to find new ways to write a sentence and use new words. That's primarily why this took a while. I am not content in using the same words over and over again. I have to have a thesaurus while I write. Idioms and other figurative things too, I constantly try to use more of those.
I just recently found out that I drew Morrigan's ring wrong on one of my pieces. It's rosewood and not golden. Thank you Dragon Age Wikia. I took a lot of information from there for this chapter.
I rushed in posting this again. I'll correct it either tomorrow night or Monday. I'm getting a bit busier and busier... Sorry for the wait.
Ophelia and Morrigan Artwork - archristol . deviantart . com
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