Hello Dragon Age world! I hope everyone is having a great week. Mine is going amazing. Yesterday, I received the newest member to my electronic family. She is a wireless keyboard for my Galaxy Tab Pro that I named Lace Harding for everyones favorite Inquisition scout.
A big shout out to asteracaea for all of your editing expertice. For those of you who don't know asteracaea has recently finished her own take on the Inquisitor's story, Against All Odds, and is working on a sequel, Keep to the Stars. I would highly recommend that you check both her stories out. Trust me. They are amazing!
Sorry for such a long intro. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Thank you for all the favorites and comments. They mean the world to me! You all are the best!
SWORD FIGHTS AND FLIRTATIONS
The elf landed with a grunt. She licked her cracked lips and tasted blood. And while a quick spell with her magic stopped the bleeding, the metallic taste remained.
"Get up," a gruff voice demanded above her. Slowly, the elf stood. Sweat covered her entire being, and loose strands of her ebony hair clung to her face. The white shirt that she wore was almost completely covered in both dirt and splotches of blood,. Holes from sword point and tears from being scraped across the ground littered everywhere else on her clothing that wasn't already filthy, and one of her sleeves was sliced all the way from her delicate wrist to her elbow.
Muttering curses in her native tongue, Morwen glared at the Commander. They had been training for almost two weeks, and the elf was nowhere near defeating the man in combat. The past couple of weeks had been grueling for the mage. The Commander had been merciless in his training, treating the elf like a normal recruit. He pushed the elf to her breaking point and beyond, refusing to allow the her to use her staff, wanting her to learn how to depend on her skill with the sword rather than her connection with the Fade.
"Never assume that your enemy is defeated," the Commander explained. "Even when you have him on the run. A cornered animal is just as dangerous as a free one."
Morwen glowered at the man before her. It grated on the elf that she had yet to strike a blow at him. She seldom made the same mistake twice, yet even her best efforts had little effect. She could not break through his wall of defense. The man had to have a weakness. Every armor had a chink in it. She just had to find his.
Whispers of a time long ago replayed within the elf's mind - a time when life was easier, and things were simpler. A lesson from her mother danced in the recesses of her conscience.
"Intimidation isn't just about size," her mother's clear voice counseled. "It's the way you hold yourself…"
Shoulders squared.
"It's the way you look them in the eye…"
A proud chin raised and a slender eyebrow slowly moved upward in a challenging manner. As if to ask if that was all that the Commander had.
"It's the way you move…"
Slowly, the elf began to circle the man as a hawk circles its prey.
"Intimidation is the way you get into your opponent's mind…"
A coy smile spread across her face. The Commander did have a weakness. Morwen recalled once observing the man in the bar. Flissa, the barmaid, had a "thing" for the Commander. She was constantly flirting with him, and causing him great discomfort. The elf remembered how the man had become flustered at her all too forward attentions. It was painfully apparent that the fearless Commander of the Inquisition was incurably shy around women.
Her next few moves were crucial. The elf knew that she had to draw the Commander out without the man realizing what she was doing. If she were to succeed, she would need to use all of her charm to break his concentration.
The change in the elf's behavior did not go unnoticed by Cullen. He noticed how she stood straighter, how her steel-silver eyes seemed to be daring him to do better, and the way that her lips curved in an almost seductive manner. She exuded confidence as if she knew something that he didn't.
Readjusting his grip on his shield, Cullen observed the elf. Typically, he would not use the shield this early in training; however, the natural instincts of the Herald were hard to break, and he would often find himself ducking behind its protective wall to shield himself from the many spells cast his way.
Cullen wondered what was running through the mind of Andraste's Herald. She was difficult to read at times, and at the moment he wondered what was going through that dark-haired head of hers.
Pulling his shield into position, Cullen prepared for whatever the elf would bring his way. What she did next completely shocked him.
"When did you join the Inquisition?" quarried the elf as she thrust her sword at the Commander.
Cullen easily parried her attack before answering, "I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall. I was there during the mage uprising."
"Were you?" Morwen asked as she continued to attack, dancing around the Commander.
"I saw first hand the devastation caused," Cullen continued to block all of the elf's blows with ease. "Cassandra sought a solution and asked me to join the cause."
"I see," was the mage's reply.
For a few moments the pair dueled in silence. Cullen wondered what the mage could be thinking when she shocked him again with another question.
"Do Templars take vows? You know, 'I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages' - that sort of thing?"
"There's a vigil first. You're meant to be at peace during that time, but your life is about to change."
Maker, Cullen thought, what is she getting at?
It puzzled the Commander of the Inquisition that until this point the Herald of Andraste had been avoiding him. Now she was asking him about why he joined the Inquisition, and his Templar life. It baffled the man.
Morwen could see that she was slowly breaking through the warrior's defenses. Just a few more minutes and she would have him. She just needed to keep him off balance a little longer.
"What happens after the vigil?"
"You give yourself to a life of service. That's when you are given a philter - your first draft of lyrium - and its power. As Templars we are not to seek wealth or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker and the path we have chosen."
"I see," Morwen replied thoughtfully. It was almost time. The next couple of questions were key. She needed him so off balance that he would not be able to defend himself.
She feigned retreat as she asked her next question, "A life of service and sacrifice. Are Templars required to give up...physical temptations?"
Morwen watched in pleasure as Cullen's pale cheeks began to change into a bright red. He nearly stumbled in his advance, but caught himself.
"Why...why would you..." Cullen stammered as he fought to regain his composure. "Templars can marry - although there are rules about it, and the Order must grant permission. Some might chose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it is not required."
A coy smile played on Morwen's lips. She had the Commander right where she wanted him. Now to deliver her final stroke.
Swinging her sword towards her opponent's midsection, the elf felt the shock of the two swords collide. Just as she had known, the seasoned warrior had blocked her initial attack. Morwen allowed her momentum to bring her close to the Commander.
Pressing herself against the man as best she could with the two swords between them, Morwen looked up at Cullen. Her long black lashes hung heavy over her eyes as a seductive smile tugged at her lips.
Using her most alluring voice, Morwen whispered, "Have you?"
Cullen felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He felt his mind go blank. Jaw working furiously, he found himself at a lack for words. His brain raced with a myriad of questions.
What just happened? Did the Herald just flirt with me? Was she just being curious? How do I even respond to that?! ?
His mind scrambled for answers, but before he could recover he felt the small elf push off of him, knocking him off balance. A tree root, that he swore had not been there a few moments ago, caught his heel, and the man found himself flailing backwards towards the ground.
Once the world stopped spinning, Cullen looked up to find the Herald of Andraste holding both practice swords across his throat, a look of satisfaction and pride on her face.
She had finally bested him.
Morwen massaged her left shoulder as she made her way towards the Chantry. It still felt sore from her duel with the Commander earlier that morning. She smirked as she remembered his reaction to her flirting. The man had difficulty meeting her eyes after that. It greatly amused the elf that the infallible and usually calm Commander of the Inquisition could become flustered by the flirtations of a woman.
Her musings were interrupted by the cheery "hello" of a passerby. The elf smiled tentatively and waved. Since her return from the Hinterlands Morwen had slowly been getting to know the people of Haven. It had not been an easy task since her time was mostly consumed with war room meetings and dueling with the Commander.
She did, however, find time to visit Haven's clinic in her spare time. There she would visit with the wounded and the sick. She would spend as much time as she could talking and getting to know everything that she could about those people and their families.
Within the past two weeks the Herald had become a fixture in the clinic. All of the patients eagerly anticipated her daily visits. She could be found soothing the brow of a feverish child, helping to set and heal broken bones, and helping to ease the passage of a soul from this world into the next. Many an hour she would sit beside a sickbed, holding the hand of the wounded and ill, listening to them talk of their homes and families; on rare occasions she would even share a tale about her life in the Free Marches.
The mage's time since receiving the mark had not been easy, but if Morwen was honest with herself she did enjoy the trips to the clinic. There she felt as if she could be of real service. Not sitting in a cold stone room discussing strategies and staring at a map.
Reluctantly, Morwen made her way up the Chantry stairs and pushed the heavy wooden doors open. She slowly made her way to the back room. She was not looking forward to another long meeting although she did hope that the Commander would give a good report on her sword fighting lessons.
Nearing the back of the Chantry, the elf heard voices coming from the war room. It would appear that the advisors had started the meeting without her.
"Having the Herald address the clerics is not a terrible idea." Josephine's voice reasoned through the ajar door.
"You can't be serious," Cullen objected.
Morwen paused momentarily, listening to the debate between her three advisors.
"Mother Giselle isn't wrong," Josephine continued to rationalize. "At the moment the Chantry's only strength is their united opinion."
"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana's concerned voice interjected.
Sighing, Morwen knew it was time to join the meeting. Squaring her shoulders, the small elf gave the door a decisive push and stepped into the room.
"Let's ask her," was Ambassador's reply as her dark eyes swung to the elf.
"If I knew what you were discussing perhaps I could give an answer," smirked the lass as she took in her advisors, also noting Cassandra's tall form to her left.
"Good heavens," Josephine gasped and then began to ramble. "I am so sorry. Of course you weren't present when the topic was first brought to light. My sincerest apologies. I..."
Morwen held up her hand, stopping the Ambassador's ramblings.
"I'm sorry," the Antivan mumbled one last time before motioning to Leliana.
"My agents have sent word from Val Royeaux," the Spymaster began. "Their reports indicate that they are having trouble gaining a foothold there. The Chantry clerics have worked the people into such a fear of the Herald and the Inquisition that my agents have been attacked and even arrested on some occasions. It is a highly volatile situation."
"I see. So you want me to walk into a pit of vipers." Morwen turned an accusing eye towards Josephine.
"They're not vipers just because they like to hiss," she countered.
"So you want me to go in there all by myself and..."
"No one said that you were going by yourself," Cullen cut in.
"And who's going to volunteer?" Snapped the elf, "I highly doubt anyone is going to want to walk into the devil's trap with me."
"I will go with you," Cassandra stepped forward.
Morwen could feel her eyes growing big from disbelief. She had not spoken much with the Seeker since their return from the Hinterlands, but she had assumed that Cassandra would be avoiding all assignments that involved traveling with the Herald.
Cassandra turned towards Leliana, "Mother Giselle provided names. I suggest we use them."
Shaking her head, the redhead protested, "You can't be serious."
"What choice do we have, Leliana? Right now we can't approach anyone for help with the Breach," Cassandra turned to the other two advisors. "Use what influence that we do have to call together the remaining clerics. Once they are ready, we will see this through."
"I will begin writing the letters to the remaining clerics," Josephine began scribbling on her parchment that she kept on hand.
"I will begin to ensure you have all the supplies for your trip," Cullen bowed as he exited the room. Never once looking the Herald in the eye.
Morwen suppressed a smug smile at the Commander's still present discomfort.
"And I will send word to my agents of your arrival," was the Spymaster reply as she too exited the room.
Morwen sighed darkly. She was not looking forward to another trip for the Inquisition. Muttering quietly, the elf said to no one in particular, "Well, it would appear that I am going to Val Royeaux."
