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Minor Edit: March 31st, 2014 (Might expand second half.)
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 10 - The Walk
Dainty black boots rustled rapidly from vermilion to bronze, the fall foliage freely forbearing of the unintentional onslaught. The radiant sun hovered high enough for the lush forest to bask under its innocent glow and the cool wind blew gentle encouragements for the trees to be more vibrant in their show.
For a mile or so the dainty black boots trampled on, their destination unknown yet unrelenting.
Morrigan just walked and walked, meditating deeply about the past few days. In fact, she was meditating deeply about the past hectic months. She was uncertain of what she sought after then and what she sought after now; what she only meant to accomplish then and what she truly cared to achieve now. She could no longer define herself in full and it pained her. She used to be so sure, so bold and confident in every way. If she wasn't, it was because she was still a child, not wholly absorbing of Flemeth's wisdom.
Ophelia had surely changed her. It was the whole cause of the unbearable conflict in her mind. She didn't know whether she liked the change and if she wanted to continue on that way or abandon it and revert back to her old ways for selfish power.
Furthermore, since her mother had perished… The shackles that were once bound to her were broken. No one had a hold over her anymore… In essence, she was at liberty to do anything she pleased.
Morrigan's feet slackened for a stop. She listened to the humble tweets of the birds and let the breeze play with her hair for a minute.
To carry on like this... How each night they tangled their limbs, tongues, cores, heartbeats – and yet, possessed goals that most often conflicted than not… Ultimately, she was equally her guardian as she was her potential dangerous enemy.
Undecided, she twisted around to gaze at the trail where she came from, zoning through the tree infested horizon and into where her sentiments urged her to return.
[-]
Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself,
Stop that now, 'cause you and I were never meant to be,
I think you better leave; it's not safe in here,
I feel a weakness coming on.
[-]
"I was waiting for you…" Ophelia began, trudging away from her breakfast to greet the witch.
But Morrigan simply marched past her, eyes distant.
"…To come in my tent this morning," Ophelia finished disappointedly, head drooping the instant she was ignored. She held it up in under a second and quietly reclaimed her place with the others to eat, raising her shoulders lightheartedly as they questioned her with puzzled faces.
"Bah! If she's not going to eat, I'm having the rest of the porridge!" Oghren called dibs.
Sten grunted, hammering a fist on the table, "Pashaara."
"Whoa, Sten!" Alistair exclaimed, catching his cup before it spilled completely.
Ophelia twirled a spoon with her fingers then pointed apathetically, "You two can split it."
"Thunderhumper…"
Zevran sighed noisily to snatch her attention, "So then… What is the plan today? Still think Morrigan is willing to have that fancy makeover?"
Ophelia shook her head half-dejected and half-unaffected.
"Aww, this is so sad," Leliana pouted.
Ophelia glimpsed at either of them and snorted, "I'll get her to mingle sometime before we end this Blight." She then beheld them firmly, brandishing her spoon to stress her vow, "This, I promise you." When she received subdued nods, she delegated for everyone near the table, "Everyone, do whatever your heart pleases for now. Just make sure you relax." She scanned her small crowd endearingly, "I'll plan some fun… Group things to do during the week."
Apart from the primary goal of saving Ferelden from the Blight, Ophelia strived to nurture her team into becoming closer. Not just to become more comfortable working with each other and be efficiently productive, but also to become better individuals. Plus, at the end of the day, she thought of Morrigan and how she could take an example out of them. In the heat of battle and with proper encouragements, each member became apt for the spirit of fellowship. They played cards, told stories, shared hidden talents, and more.
Nevertheless, Ophelia was fun and flexible, not berating them if they sometimes preferred to be aloof. Hence, seeing Morrigan in such a way this morning, she would be patient for her to rejoin their group in the afternoon.
They chattered for some minutes, discussing the possibility of Alistair's half-sister and Leliana's treacherous mentor residing in Denerim – Ferelden's capital and where they had decided to take a short vacation in. Ophelia implied that she would help them in their search but suggested not to stress over it too much. Pushing that aside, they had agreed to window-shop at the market district as their first itinerary.
With her bowl empty, Ophelia stood, "I'll go check up on Morrigan before we leave."
[-]
Ophelia stomped a foot just loud enough to announce her presence in Morrigan's tent. "Most of us are going to the market. You can follow or not, it's your choice," she declared, solemnly nonchalant.
Morrigan didn't spare a glance. Instead, she flipped a page on the book she was reading. The rogue watched her, waiting for a reaction while she adjusted her leather pants and belt.
Realizing that it was a false hope, Ophelia probed, "Was it my performance last night?"
Another page was flipped in silence.
"Okay. Ignore me…" Ophelia puffed out somewhat amusingly, "Even though I provided you with that precious book you're holding." She lifted the covers of her tent and intoned before leaving, "See you later."
Morrigan's eyelashes quivered a bit as she inhaled severely, Ophelia's understated unhappiness sucking substantial air from her tent in the departure.
[-]
Alright then, I could keep your number for a rainy day,
That's where this ends, no mistakes no misbehaving,
Oh, I was doing so well, can we just be friends,
I feel a weakness coming on.
[-]
Denerim's marketplace sprawled with tons of merchants, commoners, and even nobles and thieves, the otherwise holy city offering many things for the daily adventurer. It had dozens of vending stalls, magic shops, and armorers; each member that had chosen to join in window-shopping instantly obtained their individual piques of interest.
With the sun's heat directly over them, they strayed in pairs, shuffling efficiently and sharing their private stories from shop to shop.
Passing by a candy stall, Leliana initiated another conversation, "I bought a confection of spun sugar here once. It got stuck in my hair. Made it hard to comb out but it was very tasty for a few days." She giggled and hooked an arm into Ophelia's limp one.
"That sounds like you," Ophelia beamed at her then added her own anecdote, extending an index toward a jewelry store, "I once bought a really expensive choker for a friend over there. I was barely ten and I did so with my saved up allowance."
"Aww… How cute were you?" Leliana pried delightfully, leaning against Ophelia's shoulder and taking advantage of her leader's then-restrained openness about her personal life.
"Really cute," Ophelia replied pleasantly as they entered the collection and skimmed its lavish products. "Anyway, the funny thing was… It was the only necklace of its type at the time and there was a noble couple who contemplated on buying it before us but they left… So we bought it…" She glanced at Leliana, her silver eyes twinkling, "But then the couple comes back wanting to purchase it. They wondered, 'Where's the necklace?' They were probably calculating everybody's purses in the store, 'Who could possibly afford it?'" A brief laugh erupted out of them both as she continued, "Then they peered around and saw that my friend was already wearing it on her neck. So they glared at her icily then I stuck a tongue out in her defense. She was a commoner but they gave her the dirtiest look like she was a peasant."
"That's so funny."
"It was…" Ophelia proclaimed, gazing dreamily at the glowing gemstones, "They left with faces of utter humiliation, then my friend and I burst out snickering…" She additionally noted, "Smug nobles… We could've allowed them to buy it first then pickpocketed the necklace in the end, if we felt like it. My friend… She was my mentor as well. And she deserved it as token of my appreciation."
Leliana examined her from beside and inquired, "You had a wonderful teacher, didn't you?"
Ophelia corrected with the brightest smile Leliana had ever seen, "More than wonderful."
The female scoundrels eventually left the nostalgic store and carried along with their browsing and trading of short intimate tales. Ophelia finally granted Leliana plenty of what she had appealed to hear long ago, and the bard was grateful.
There was no harm in it… Morrigan had known more and she was less engrossed over her. Seeing the red head chuckle and chortle was a welcome contrast.
After a half hour or so of non-stop chitchat, Ophelia spotted Zevran with Alistair and advised to switch partners, requesting jokingly to pull her away from Leliana who grilled her to no end.
[-]
"Ah, at last! Some peaceful alone time with the loveliest woman in Thedas. Oh, how I do miss gallivanting around aimlessly with you," Zevran cried with joy as they promenaded together like a couple – but Ophelia was playing the man with her arm sagging over his shoulder and his hand securely over her hip.
"What? Truly? I thought you had your sights on Wynne," Ophelia teased the sweet-talking elf.
"Haha~ Wynne's a darling woman but you're in a league of your own, my dear."
She sniggered, "Thank you, Zevran. You're really stroking my big fat ego."
He tittered audibly in total understanding of the pun intended, "What can I say? I am well-experienced at stroking a great many things."
Ophelia cackled with him.
They strolled with boisterous cheer as they hunted the streets for the Pearl, the swankiest brothel in Denerim. They have both been there before and only planned to visit it for shameless but clean fun. Nonetheless, Ophelia invigorated Zevran to get laid if he wanted to.
When their banters slowly came to a calm, Zevran insisted quite seriously, "Now, to relieve me the pain of not knowing which is fact or fiction..." They swapped crooked eyebrows. "You and Morrigan... Have something special going on together, no?"
Ophelia shivered inwardly, unprepared for the assaulting curiosity, "Besides sex? I'd like to think so... But we're both aware this is temporary. The blight and all..."
He debriefed in some state of shock, "Oh? So neither of you desires for it to continue afterwards?"
"I haven't extremely pondered it... We hardly speak of feelings for each other. So I can't tell you, to be honest," she explained informatively.
"Well... Not speaking about feelings doesn't necessarily equal not showing them, correct?"
"True. But you can never be sure with Morrigan."
"Never?" He scoffed, "Now you lie to me. You are the sharpest woman I have ever met, and believe me, I have met plenty."
Ophelia swayed her head for a definitive 'no' and confessed, "I'm not that sharp."
Zevran surrendered indignantly, "Oh, fine~ Don't tell me.."
They established the bordello's location in a few more steps then separated from their friendly tangle at the entrance. Discerning a violent clamor coming from inside its walls, they glanced at each other and listened.
Upon opening the double doors, Zevran murmured promptly at the view, "Ah... Speaking of sharp women..."
A dark-skinned woman fought competently against three thugs; either her voluptuous body evaded deftly away from each attempted strike or her daggers met every one of them and countered back flawlessly. All the while in the whirlwind of chaos, she taunted them and guffawed with glee.
After one thug stumbled backwards and fell, he screamed a cowardly yield and the woman snarled for them to leave. She pillaged their money from the ground hurriedly then grinned at the effortless loot.
The moment she picked her dark head up to stand, her bronze eyes flatteringly locked with unparalleled diamonds that observed her keenly. She threw an impish smile and Ophelia caught it audaciously, forming a similarly impish smile of her own.
When Zevran approached the brunette and abruptly killed the electrifying exchange of licentious looks, the woman snubbed playfully, "And look who we have here. Come to apologize for leaving me bereft of my lord husband and then vanishing without a trace?"
Zevran elucidated with a congenial mien, "You know it was just business, Isabela. Business that turned out well for you, I see… You inherited the ship, I take it?"
Isabela easily reconsidered, "Hmph. I suppose I never did like the greasy bastard. And the siren treats me far better than she ever did him."
"Should I leave you two to catch up?" Ophelia advocated with a hazily meddlesome wrinkle of her brows.
"Any catching up Zevran and I have to do, we wouldn't be doing out here in the market," Isabela clarified, a hint of coquettishness adorning her lips, "Now Zev, shouldn't you introduce us?"
"Indeed. This is Isabela, queen of the eastern seas and the sharpest blade in Llomerryn," he presented her proudly then boasted, "And Isabela, my dear, you will no doubt be amused to discover that I am traveling with a Grey Warden. Her name is Ophelia."
"A Grey Warden?" Isabela flashed a distinct bat of her eyelashes with her acknowledgement, "Charmed."
"Your fighting skills are impressive. Different from my style though they have their similarities as well," Ophelia complimented modestly.
"I assumed you saw that little drama?" Isabela bragged, her voice fairly whimsical, "None of these poor brutes has ever proven a match for me. They are too clumsy and predictable. I fight with quickness and wit, rather than with brute force and strength. I call myself a duelist because I honed my skills in duels with warriors I encountered over the years."
"Interesting. Conversely, I fight with cunning and dexterity," Ophelia quipped and they chuckled feebly. "Will you teach me how to be a duelist?"
"Ha! An unusual request coming from a fearsome slayer of darkspawn." Isabela tilted her chin conceitedly but narrowed her eyes conspicuously enamored, "I am flattered that you wish to learn from me, sexy thing. It will take you years of practice to achieve true mastery of the style, but I can teach you the basics. I do, however, wish to get to know my potential student better, so we shall call for a drink and you will honor me with a game."
"Are there no other ways for us to get to know each other?"
Her brown eyes broadened in anticipation, "Do you have…" She beseeched demurely, tasting her own lips, "Something else in mind?"
Ophelia stated indifferently, her tone literal, "We could board your ship. I'd like to see what's below deck."
"Ooh, and now you've piqued my interest. It would certainly be rude of me to decline such a…" Isabela paused for a tantalizing effect, "Delicious offer."
Zevran was dumbfounded for a moment, slightly aroused by their repartee. But then, reality occurred to him and he regarded Ophelia apprehensively, "Hey, hey, hey! What about Morrigan?"
"Morrigan?" Ophelia christened as if she didn't know who he was talking about. "What about Morrigan? Morrigan's safe, back at camp," she assured with a careless façade.
"But you are madly in love with her; from the premature foreplays and whispers of sweet unknowns in the light of day," he reminisced with desperate yet dreamy verses and melodramatic gestures, reaching for the cream ceiling, "to the intensified scuffles that lead to and empower your passionate and lustful escapades in the dark of night," he ended with a ball of his ardent fists.
"Grah!" Ophelia roared resentfully, "Zevran! C'mon, don't do this to me… You're ruining a perfectly decent prospect here…" She scowled despairingly at Isabela, hoping that she wouldn't change her mind.
"I did not realize that somebody had already claimed you."
And the lightning struck then thundered a flood.
"I have enemies enough and I would like to avoid making more. I do not want to cause offense; let us forget what was said."
"Gaah!" She extended her shaky fingers out and clutched the air as Isabela stirred away from the bar, "Noo~!"
But Isabela purely sat at a wooden table and beckoned for her to sit, "Now then, a drink, a round of Wicked Grace, else we have no agreement."
"Oh." Perhaps there was still a chance after all. She curved her obsidian lips upwards. "Strip Wicked Grace."
"Haha~!" Isabela crossed her legs, admiring her determination, "As tempting as your offer sounds… Truly it is unfortunate that you are taken."
"Tsk tsk." Ophelia remarked with disdain as she laggardly took her seat, "Zevran, I never once believed you had the aptitude…"
Zevran auspiciously snuffled as he moved by the sidelines, "You may complain all you'd like but you will not regret this, my dear."
"Shall I shuffle the cards or would you like to?" Isabela enquired, handling the cards.
"You," Ophelia dismissed somberly then impartially propped on an elbow.
"Very well…" Isabela shuffled the cards speedily, "There, that should be sufficient…" then she laid them down on their selected places, "Five cards each to start with… And may the cleverest player win." Afterwards, she scrutinized her cards and goaded confidently, "It looks like the deck is being kind to me today."
Ophelia sobbed as she scrutinized her own cards, "The least of my sorrows…"
Then the boring plain card game commenced.
Ophelia solely inspected her, leaning wearily on the table. Oh… But not too late in the drawing and discarding, she revealed with a prolonged yawn, "I saw that…" Isabela simpered when she called her out at her very first endeavor to cheat, "You drew an extra card."
"Oh, wow. You certainly have quick reflexes. I'm quite impressed." The pirate owned up, "And as for me cheating, well, the game does not matter. I just wanted to see if you could outwit me. And you did exceptionally at that." She rose from the table and sauntered near her, planting a serene hand on her shoulder, "You have proven yourself quick and resourceful, and I would be honored to pass my skills on to you," then she sashayed away from the table and directed Ophelia to join her in an empty part of the building, "Come. We will need some space for this."
[-]
It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,
I don't want to feel like this,
No it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,
I don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault.
[-]
Fifteen minutes of swift demonstration of the basics, another fifteen minutes of careful review, plus thirty minutes of sparring practice, and several forced topples later (which Isabela didn't mind…)
"Well… I didn't expect to learn more from you than you did I. You fight excellent. I personally believe you didn't need my training. I'm beginning to assume you did all that to flaunt your… Exquisite expertise," Isabela commended as soon as they relapsed to the saloon portion of the establishment.
"I didn't plan on it. I was intimidated so…" Ophelia shrugged, "Instincts came naturally. Sorry if I didn't perform what was taught."
Isabela snorted from disbelief, "Intimidated?" then she he inquired peculiarly fascinated, "Is it too much to ask who taught you your graceful art in battle, or did you invent it yourself?"
"I learned the best from my mentor as a child. The rest… I pick up as I go, like you do yourself."
"This is true," Zevran advocated.
"I won't be getting more than that, will I?" Isabela blithely complained, admiring Ophelia up and down with her eyes a final time, "It was a real pleasure meeting you. An honor, to be precise. I hope we meet again very soon."
"The pleasure's mine." Ophelia stretched a hand and shook Isabela's then she hastily inched her head closer and whispered, "And we will."
Zevran interrupted when amber eyes glimmered provocatively, "Okay, Isabela. It's been exciting, as usual... But we must go now." He appropriately partially slipped in between them to detach them.
"It could've been more exciting, I cannot lie…" Isabela asserted then permitted them to take their leave.
As Zevran gripped the door handles to exit, Isabela hollered, "Wait." She caught up with them then rested a hand on a hip, authoritative yet forgiving, "I want my knife back."
Ophelia smirked as she pivoted around and publicized, "I wasn't stealing it." She handed the miniscule dagger but stalled to admit before letting go, "I was testing you," she snuck a wink in.
"Ha! Testing me now?" Isabela quizzed and sheathed the weapon over her derriere then chuckled, "Sure you are. Sexy thing..."
"Alright. Enough with the coy looks Isabella. This Warden's off the market," Zevran reprimanded and strove to push Ophelia out the door.
"Yes. What a shame." Isabela shot a lasting gaze of amusement for the reeling Warden, "Take her away before I smuggle her away."
When the heavier entry doors shut with a loud creak, Zevran surveyed humorlessly, "Would you have slept with Isabela, had I not been there?"
"I see you remain particularly perturbed about that," Ophelia rolled her eyes then groaned, "Maybe… Just once or twice…" She glanced at Zevran, "In this vacation."
He twisted a thwarted grimace then proceeded ahead of her.
Him…? Disappointed about decadent fornication?
She trailed behind him and protested, "What? Are you my counselor now?"
"No. I am a good and observant friend who can distinguish that you like Morrigan," he attested with tapering eyes, "and Morrigan likes you."
"You can't judge that," she muttered in monotone, "I can't even judge that."
"What precisely happened in the past few days, hmm?" he pried sternly, genuinely concerned, "Your seemingly amorous interactions grew less and less in under a condensed period of time."
"She grew less and less amorous," Ophelia specified. "And I'm not sure… But I'm getting tired of constantly trying to read her."
Zevran halted and looked at her profoundly, "So you're giving up?"
"I…" Ophelia redirected her sights elsewhere. "I didn't say that…"
[-]
Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself,
Stop that now; you're as close as it gets without touching me,
Oh no, don't make it harder than it already is,
I feel a weakness coming on.
[-]
Ophelia plodded along the leveled meadow to revisit Morrigan's camp, her countenance mildly oppressing. The birds were somehow soundless, the wafting wind was cool, and the skies turned gloomy, the setting sun nowhere to be found.
It was the mark of rain coming, reminiscent of the dreading feeling she suppressed in her gut…
Ophelia discovered Morrigan outside of her tent, squatting and lighting a fire. Within arm's reach, Ophelia said, "Dinner at the tavern..." She folded her arms, studious of the sorceress, "You should come, Morrigan."
Morrigan worked mutely, rearranging piles of skinny blocks of wood as she struggled to urge a fire alive. She compulsorily continued, miserably unsociable while she tore strips of paper to help sustain the dissipating bonfire.
The second it persevered its flames and Morrigan got up, Ophelia stepped in front of her and ransacked with a patronizing tone, "Is there a reason why you're downright shunning me now?"
"No. No particular reason," Morrigan verified, her eyes glued to the grass below them.
"Is this how it's going to be for the rest of Denerim?" Ophelia swung her head in a strain to ensnare the stalwart eluding cat eyes, "Maybe even the Blight?"
There was no response.
"You're mad because I won't divulge tangible answers regarding Flemeth's death."
"No. I am not," Morrigan disputed impatiently and fixed her a penetrating glare, "You reserve the right to be secretive and I reserve the right to be solitary. Now leave me be," she lodged a forearm against the lean bicep to relocate the taller Warden.
But Ophelia blocked Morrigan's escape and demanded, "Stop this."
Morrigan sneered as she competed for passage, "No! You stop this!"
"I arranged for this to be a fun mini vacation!" Ophelia justified with a bellow.
Morrigan retorted, "Do not speak as if 'tis not possible without my presence," then she swerved into the opposite direction, resorting to merely turning her back on the blonde woman.
"For all of us, Morrigan!"
"Leave me be, and I'll be happy," Morrigan uttered calmly, "'Tis all I need."
Ophelia droned, "No, you won't be…" She reposed a hand on a fair-skinned shoulder.
"The only way I won't be," Morrigan swiped her hand off and accused, "is if you won't let me."
"Why do you have to be so darn difficult?" Ophelia's cold gray eyes unstiffened, pleading for reconsideration.
"Go have your fun," Morrigan commanded, walking past the rogue, "Leave me out of it."
"Fine."
[-]
"No Morrigan?" Zevran queried, a tad dissatisfied.
"No. She doesn't want to socialize…" Ophelia confirmed neutrally, to which Nutella whined sadly.
"Maybe she's not feeling well," Wynne proposed.
"Who cares…" Ophelia abolished effortlessly, stretching her neck to loosen up, "Forget her. Let's enjoy the night." She progressed onwards, a cue for them to follow. "Oghren!" she ran up to the sluggish dwarf, patting a hand then resting an elbow on the miniature man's shoulder while they ambled beside each other, "What do you say to… A drinking tournament?" she solicited enticingly.
"You can keep trying, woman!" Oghren grumbled with exuberance, "Just keep showing me that six-pack of yours! Hehe!"
Ophelia cooed, "But Oghren... I don't have a six-pack…" then she broadcasted vociferously, "I have a whopping eight-pack! It will destroy your manhood!"
"WHAT?" Oghren growled croakily, "Naw! You're yanking my beard!"
[-]
It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,
I don't want to feel like this, yeah,
No it's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,
I don't want to feel like this, so that makes it all your fault.
[-]
Hours in their festive supper at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, Ophelia secretly skedaddled away and backtracked to the Pearl alone. She semi-slurred her questions for Isabela's first mate, grabbing his collar while purring for information of her whereabouts.
Determining her location to be in the Siren's Call, Ophelia tipsily wandered in the streets as drizzle began to shower softly on her.
Gradually, the humongous vessel that matched her description appeared in her view, a number of its windows open and dimly lit. She advanced towards the visible side and jumped from the dock to latch herself on an anchor's chains. Choosing the best window to slip into, she then climbed and cleverly maneuvered her path to safely infiltrate the boat undetected.
Once inside, she slithered stealthily from room to room, pursuing Isabela. Conclusively pinning for the largest and secured cabin, she nimbly lock-picked it and barged in gracefully, the metal hinges emitting a squeaking sound that startled Isabela.
Big trouble losing control,
Primary resistance at a critical low,
On the double, gotta get a hold,
Point of no return one second to go.
"I came to return this to you…" Ophelia conceded by the door, lackadaisically holding up a thin bracelet as Isabela drew her blades.
"How did you…" Isabela retracted her weapons and gawped at her, stunned but otherwise merry.
Ophelia spontaneously accelerated forward, her hands conquering her bountiful buttocks without warning while she eyed her, predatorily smitten.
"My… Well that explains it," Isabela hummed a salaciously mesmerizing melody by her ear, "You have the quickest fingers and the gentlest yet firmest grip."
Ophelia swished the jewelry by her face teasingly then dropped it to glide down her cleavage, "You dangle with tons of accessories. It wasn't that challenging to pluck one off without notice." She coaxed with a stronger grip on her behind, "So… How about a game of Strip Wicked Grace, huh? The lengthy version…"
"And… What about your lover?" Isabela reminded her, tentatively .
"I don't have one," Ophelia decreed austerely then inspired lasciviously, "And even if I did… Wouldn't this be more thrilling?"
"Hmph. You're right. And I can't exactly bring myself to…" Isabela succumbed, fiddling with her fingers and sketching a wavy line on the damp tan collarbone, "Deny you for the second time." With a brash smack of her lips, she suddenly spun then shoved Ophelia down on a deluxe armchair, "Sit here…"
Ophelia leered irrepressibly as the Riviani moseyed away and ostentatiously arranged two mixed drinks at a dresser across of her. She lounged comfortably, settling her boots up on the narrow gaming table as she waited for her liquor.
Recognizing the untidiness of the surroundings, she critiqued, "Your ship could use a lot of cleaning."
"I'm sorry," Isabela peeped at her fleetingly, mockingly concerned, "Does it bother you?"
"No." Ophelia refuted languidly, "I thought I could help clean it at another time. Cleanliness is sophistication of its own. To have this amount of impressive décor but so poor a background…"
"Clean?" Isabela grunted with minor disdain then giggled, "Screw cleaning. I would much rather have you at my helm. I can promise then that you will grow acquainted to the ship's wild uninhibitedness…" she persuaded, finishing their drinks.
"Hmm… Sailing above the deck does sound fun. Although, I reckon I would do a poor job at steering," Ophelia leisurely sat upright, removing her feet off the tabletop in eagerness to accept the delivered drink.
"The ship is the best teacher." The bodacious buccaneer slinked attractively towards the blonde rogue, her hips swinging in tandem with each step as she recited seductively, "She will guide you with her sighs..." she prowled behind her, making sure their arms and upper body made significant contact as she illustrated verbally by her neck, "Her shudders, her gentle swaying as she rides the crests of the waves…"
"Ah… I do learn best with close guidance," Ophelia certified, clinching the wine glass exhibited for her.
Then Isabela plopped in her own armchair and asked with a gracious upraise of a shapely eyebrow, "Shall we begin?"
"I'll shuffle this time," Ophelia volunteered.
Then the naughty sensual card game commenced.
Bandanas…
Earrings…
Rings…
Necklaces…
Bracelets…
Bindings…
Thigh high boots…
Ophelia studied her intently as her copious adornments and scanty clothing articles plummeted to the timber floorboards with thuds and clinks, one by one. She was winning and it was dragging on excruciatingly long. If she was losing, it would only take four or five rounds for Isabela to win; given her typical minimal outfit of a cream loose tunic, phantom leather pants, charcoal buckled belt, and lightweight anthracite boots.
"You're losing on purpose," she blurted out from edginess then laid down another winning card.
"So I am…" Isabela answered, undoing the strings of her chemise, "Is it a problem?"
"No… But you could've just worn less clothing before we began." After Isabela peeled the garment off with a titter, Ophelia jested, "At least you don't wear a bra."
"If you are dying from the anticipation," Isabela goaded, drawing near her then brusquely straddling her hips, "perhaps you should've attempted to lose on purpose." She cupped the nape of Ophelia's neck as the scoundrel, in turn, cupped her bare breasts. Then onyx met mocha for a deep kiss, their heads angling in competency.
Ophelia sunk in her seat, her right hand traveling upwards to immerse in rich ebony hair and her left traveling downwards to immerse in the warmth pressing against her pelvis.
Isabela groaned as the seeking hand felt her through her moist panties. She briefly withdrew, pinning Ophelia against the chair. They beheld each other attentively, Ophelia analyzing her as she reached for the ring-necklace.
"Don't. It's nothing special," Ophelia ordered, politely swatting her hand away then forcibly standing to quickly transport her to a hefty bed.
Isabela lifted her legs up, concurred for the last undergarment to be pulled off, then keenly spread her legs wide open, welcoming Ophelia to claim her prize, "Hmm... Come here, you..."
Ophelia crawled on top of her and leant down to kiss her again, her fingers roving all over the reclined torso. When she broke off from the kiss to breathe and Isabela moaned when she touched her heat, an earsplitting crash resounded in the cabin.
She veered her head around from shock as a frenzied raven had exerted itself to recklessly fly out the window and collided with a wine glass instead.
"I… I just remembered something…" she mumbled suddenly as the bird fled.
"Come again?" Isabela expressed in petty frustration.
"I'm sorry. I have to leave," Ophelia disconnected without hesitation, urgently sprinting toward the window then leaping out of it.
"WHAT?"
She faltered on the dock when she landed, but instantaneously stabilized her composure and rushed for the crow soaring away from her, the rain pouring heavily enough that it slowed the airborne creature.
[-]
No response on any level, red alert this vessel's under siege,
Total overload, systems down, they've got control,
There's no way out, we are surrounded,
Give in, give in, and relish every minute of it.
[-]
Thunder deafened the thick forest, drowning out every other sound: the crunching of leaves against searching feet, the bucketing volley of rain… But not Ophelia's distressed voice as she christened with an indomitable shout: "Morrigan!"
"I know you're here somewhere!" she whirled around worthlessly, endeavoring to find Morrigan in, around, or high up in the trees. "Morrigan!"
The storm's noise made it impossible for her to perceive her position through hearing but the lightning made it possible to perceive through seeing.
She professed in between exhausted pants: "I'm sorry if I hurt you."
"But honestly..."
"I'm glad you reacted the way you did."
"Now I'm certain..."
"That you feel the same way."
She clenched her fists over her knees and gathered her breath. "Please... Show yourself."
"You're mistaken." Morrigan's voice resonated somewhere.
"Huh?" Ophelia's weary eyeballs rotated in every direction, perusing the woods.
"You're mistaken. I do not feel the same way," Morrigan projected coherently with her voice then exposed herself, poised on a high tree branch, "Whatever I feel right now is... Not how I would feel in general."
"Don't lie to yourself, Morrigan…" Ophelia bordered the tree she was on and bidden to mount it. "How you act and behave..." She hooked unto grooves and curves, fearless of the splinters she could receive. "Is far more genuine than how you speak..."
"To leave the ring whilst killing Flemeth… And whilst not your wanton ambitions…" The rain trickling down her troubled visage obliterated any chance of distinguishing tears. "You…" She swallowed then snapped, "You provoked me on purpose!"
"I…" Ophelia got ahold of the branch she was on but the shapeshifter briskly floated to another tree before they could interact face to face. "I guess I did. I'm sorry," Ophelia disclosed sorrowfully.
"You are nothing but an immature and whorish pig!" Morrigan spat scornfully.
"I'm sorry..." Ophelia begged, the creases on her forehead a small proof of her remorse, "It will never happen again, I swear. I really just craved for your attention..."
Morrigan disregarded her and reluctantly deviated around to distance herself once more.
"Morrigan! I can change!" Out of panic, Ophelia vaulted from her spot and unto Morrigan's. She barely grappled the branch and pushed herself up as the sorceress drifted again to another tree; this time, two trees ahead of her.
Scrunching her eyes shut and grunting helplessly, Ophelia mustered her strength then sprang to the first tree successfully.
But her vigor and weight encumbered the branch and it fractured.
Morrigan gasped as Ophelia plunged below, the fall rendering a compact thump.
Guilt-stricken, the witch went down and loomed worriedly over the prone form. "Ophelia?" she called, crouching and stroking the idle face.
Ophelia grumbled painfully then flickered her eyes to unseal. Her fatigued platinum eyes riveted on Morrigan's softened golden ones while she stretched a hand to caress the fraught face. "You're stunningly beautiful," she comforted.
"What is it that you wish to gain from me, besides my assistance? I cannot offer you ample reward for everything you've done," Morrigan replied tetchily, getting straight to the basis of her unease.
Flabbergasted, Ophelia just gawked at her for several seconds. "I simply want your company..." she quietly reasoned as much as she could conceive, "It's not something I can describe. But with you… Strangely…" She delayed, wallowing in the flow of raindrops that Morrigan passed unto her, "I feel transcendent. Even when you're angry... Just so long as you're near."
"You–!" Morrigan insulted out of exasperation, "What a pathetic excuse!" then her voice cracked faintly, inconsolable, "Why…?"
Unable to explicate further, Ophelia hauled her downwards and let her lips and tongue do the elucidating, droplets of water intensifying the taste and feel of the sensory massage.
What started as a message of tender tongues sharply led to an unbuttoning and eventual ripping of sheer and drenched long sleeves – Morrigan heatedly disrobing Ophelia. Consequently, Ophelia couldn't stay too submissive, so she tore Morrigan's skimpy top and assailed her milky bosom with her famished mouth.
Their passions increasing as torrid as the cold torrent of rain – in due course, they rose up and fully undressed, kissing and touching harshly as they stirred through the jungle and abandoned their belongings.
"Mmm–AAHH!" Morrigan yelped and braced herself as Ophelia bent her leg upwards and fervently ravaged her against a tree, the rapt mouth concentrated in providing her rapture. "Ophe~lia––! I'm…"
Ophelia brought her head up to hear her plea, "Morrigan…" She assembled Morrigan's untied wet jet black tresses then dipped her fingers in and out of her core relentlessly.
Morrigan clawed Ophelia's rear, heaving her closer as she allowed all her moans to escape, utterly engulfed in the overwhelming ecstasy.
This… Boundless desire… It felt so good… Why did it feel so good?
When her liquid lust gushed out of her and she whimpered in full power, Ophelia cradled her body while she convulsed out of control.
It wasn't just superficial unembellished sex. There was nothing like it…
Ophelia embraced her and smiled contentedly as she rode the lingering billows of her reverie, Morrigan huffing raggedly on her neck and unlaced flaxen mane.
The gratified Warden relaxed and gazed blankly towards the perspective of trees, a sparse fog blurring the scene.
But then, shadows of bipedal shapes emerged from the expanse and she cringed from a pang of fright.
Shit… Did they hear them?
Ophelia released Morrigan, "Go…" She instructed resolutely, "Shapeshift and go…"
"Wh… What?" Morrigan stuttered, staggered by the order.
Ophelia's hawk eyes were adhered to the haze. "They're coming… Go."
Morrigan skewed her head to check what she saw.
"I'll be okay," Ophelia guaranteed with a dauntless and protective demeanor.
Then Morrigan directly complied, vanishing into the trees' shelter as a bird.
Thereupon, Ophelia made an effort to map where they derived from, scanning for her singular dagger at the very least.
Though, her hastened exertion was futile; the shapes were now bandits that surrounded her, wolfishly whistling and drooling over her the moment they arrived. She purely stared at them austerely, oblivious to the humiliation from being absolutely nude.
Three archers. Four fighters. And one leader.
"Hey…" the foremost man addressed and encircled her, blatantly ogling her lecherously, "What's a pretty little girl like you doing alone in here?" then he snickered repulsively, the stench of his breath adding to his failure of arousing her, "Were you the one making all that lewd moaning?"
"Yes. It was me," Ophelia bluffed without a sweat, her tone inviting, "I was… Lonely."
"Haha. Rea~lly?" he grumbled. The grisly leader and his companions eyed each other curiously before they sniggered wickedly. "You don't sound like the type of woman who squeals," he mused, intimidatingly situating a hand on the hilt of his ax by his hip.
"Why? Would you honestly look elsewhere when you have a perfectly bare naked woman in front of you, waiting for solace?" She lured, fondling her own breasts despondently.
"Boss. This bitch doesn't look that skilled," one of his followers commented.
"Yea. Just shut her up," another one chimed in.
But the boss was a little skeptical. "You're an awfully easy woman…" he quizzed, his face contorting oddly, "Are you planning something?"
She grinned devilishly like a succubus expecting her prey, "I'm a nude and defenseless woman trapped within a gang of leering bandits, what can I possibly do to hurt all of you?" Her hands outstretched openly as she gibed, "If you have the balls, come have at it."
The horrendous-looking men laughed mockingly at first then they closed in on her voraciously.
Their leader thrust a forceful hand on her and she flopped down on the muddy foliage, her lips tightly locked as the superior bandit imposed over her and unbuckled his trousers. Rifling through his unzipped pants, he brandished his stiffened shaft then lowered it in between her breasts.
While the bandit rode her chest, Ophelia retained her composed expression, wondering when the storm would cease. Her thoughts were disrupted as the man on top of her shifted higher, motioning to put it in her mouth.
Then… A chain of lightning came crashing down, hitting the bystanders. Their leader became alarmed as the crackling electricity skipped through each one of them then him. He intuitively grasped for his ax before the agony paralyzed, but Ophelia kicked him and he staggered backwards.
One of his allies charged unto her with a thrust of his sword, so she permitted the shot then dodged it with a slight twirl, catching his wrist, twisting it, and stealing his blade at one fell swoop. The perplexed thug was speechless as the sword he then-wielded impaled his neck then he collapsed.
The leader and another man shrieked their war cries then attacked her. She evaded them with reflexive twists, turns, and parries. She orbited around them while she sliced their unarmored flesh as much as she could, inclining the weighty sword against their progressing limbs; the nimble cuts ultimately disabling them. Subsequent to a murderous giggle, the steel's gleam blinded before it beheaded them within a split-second.
Morrigan terminated the thunderous lightning bolts streaming from her fingers when Ophelia advanced on her screeching prisoners. The Grey Warden equipped two daggers she plundered then dexterously pierced vital points in their weakened bodies like she was merely picking on ice.
When the last bandit was slain, Morrigan bawled furiously, "WAS THE CRACK IN YOUR SKULL THAT SEVERE?" she approached Ophelia and held her head with both hands, wrapping the blonde hair around her fingers and tugging her head from forlorn anguish, "What in blasted damnation was that pointless performance?"
"I trusted you fully and I was right to trust you fully," Ophelia interlaced her fingers with hers and questioned with a heartwarming mien, "Will you condemn me for that?"
"N-no… But...!" Morrigan admonished less angrily, "Quit this foolish carelessness! I am well-aware that you are more than capable of ridding these filthy outlaws, devoid of risky pretense!"
Ophelia didn't say anything and just captivated her with her silence and vigilant eyes, the flushed roseate lips capturing hers at once.
Freeze, awake here forever, I feel a weakness coming on.
They relished in the prolonged and unfathomable kiss, entangling their arms in the loving clinch.
Ophelia almost wept when Morrigan unexpectedly retreated and whispered, "I… I wish to know… Your opinion of love."
She continued between hopelessly flustered breaths and glimpses of Ophelia and the rosewood ring…
"I feel… I feel anxious when I look upon you…"
"I dislike this sense of dependency."
"'Tis a weakness I abhor!"
It's not meant to be like this, not what I planned at all,
I don't want to feel like this, Yeah,
No it's not meant to be like this, it's just what I don't need,
Why make me feel like this, it's definitely all your fault.
"If this is love…" she finalized, looking at Ophelia contritely, "I wish to ascertain that you do not feel the same."
"And if I do love you?"
"Then… We are both fools, and we need to do something immediately." Morrigan nudged for freedom but Ophelia hung on. Morrigan lopsided her head to a side and avoided eye contact. "I have allowed myself to become… Too close. This is a weakness… For us both…" she gritted her teeth, her lips and fingers trembling delicately because of the chilly rain and her erratically pulsating heart.
Ophelia coerced truthfully, "Love is not a weakness. And you cannot command it to disappear," she hugged Morrigan tighter when she became tense, tucking the dark head underneath her chin, "Everyone needs some type of affection. We need to feel valuable. Or else… Life is damnation and nothing matters."
"You… You are not listening to me. Do not be such a fool!" Morrigan beat a fist on her ribcage and nearly sobbed, "This is for your own good. I would not… I am not like other women. I am not worth your distraction. And you… You are not worth mine…"
Ophelia forced Morrigan to fasten their eyes together – stubborn and veiled ardency versus hypnotizing and presumptuous adulation. "You are every bit worth my distraction," she proclaimed unequivocally.
"I… You are impossible…!" Their noses touched and Ophelia wiped the surfacing tears while Morrigan disheartened in counterfeit, "You… You will regret it in the end," then she surrendered for another kiss.
She knew she shouldn't… But it was too difficult and unbearable.
The Blight… Her task…
She had to stop…
[-]
Feel like this,
It's all your fault.
Song
"The Walk" by Imogen Heap
Feedback for Doubt
Sagnus: 5 doesn't necessarily mean perfection on my scaling. Just hecka entertaining. And exactly... While this is a fun hobby and a form of free entertainment for some of you... Reviews can be a really good form of saying thanks from the readers. Thanks for reviewing again and rating! :)
Andy Lewis: Fair enough. Thanks for reviewing! :D
Dalish Elf: YES! I think I did get it from that and subconsciously typed it without knowing. And I'm really bad... I checked the endings for ME3. I must say... Wow. BioWare's really good at making catastrophic endings. But I heard there's a possibility it's a fake end. I might play it sometime when I'm in the mood. I actually thought of a DA/ME crossover that's quite funny but I don't know if I'll write about it. xD
qweenseeker: Well aren't you generous? Thanks! :)
Meirouki: Great! I got a new reviewer! And lost some again... I suppose. Lol. Thanks for reviewing and rating! I'm really glad it's all a 5 for you.
Thanks for reviewing everyone! Review again please.
A/N: Long chapter. Good enough for the wait, I hope. The thing is... I know what to write. I think I'm just getting bored because every time I have the chance to write, I go on YouTube and watch a ton of Ellen videos instead. LOL. So you fokers better start reviewing if you wanna inspire me. XD
Please check my deviantART. I have a piece of art and writing concerning Ophelia's mentor where you will also find out her name. So check that out...
Ophelia and Morrigan Artwork - archristol . deviantart . com
ATTENTION: (vileniaveladorn, ScOut4It, Arf-Arf-Psycho, mylovelyminion, Gemini1179, AlexisBlade, Rin Ryosuke, FifthFreedom, Moral Attention, SirRealism, whiskered oranges, Silentragnarok, Chaoskadda, Dathora, doesntknow, Erzsebeth, Ledilettant, LycanRed, Nightbrainzz, Nimitar, NoAng3l, Ushiromae, Cambia Forma, Darksnow4, Falch1ca, KitsuneSetsuna, matthew0208, Rashomoun, and sunfire130.)
First of all, thanks for taking interest in my writing and either reviewing, putting it on alert, or favoriting it.
But please say something once in a while if any of you are still reading. Now would be great, thanks. Especially the ones in bold! And if also in italics... It means it's been a while and I really foking miss you! Since I know you reviewed before... I hate losing readers...
Rate this chapter (5 Best, 1 Worst)...
5 - Totally Entertaining
4 - Entertaining Enough (But missing a thing or two...)
3 - Good (But can be better.)
2 - Meh... (Scanned through just to move forward in the plot.)
1 - Redo Everything Bitch
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