Again I want to thank everyone for the follows, reviews and favorites. I heart all your faces!
All reviews are appreciated! If you notice any spelling errors, think I've forgotten something or anything else, please let me know. Every little bit helps.
Also, I will state right now that I am skipping a small part of Sten's Asala Quest in the sense that the group is not going to be trucking all the way back to Redcliff, with ashes in tow, just to pick up the damned sword from the twats who bought the Qunari weapons in game. That part was a kind of run-around being pulled by the nose annoying for me and I hope you guys wont mind too terribly if I skip it. Plus, I can introduce small building plot points for later because I will be working on DA:2 and DA:I later on, so be prepared for a small intro to someone you will see later on.
^.^
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Chapter Twenty-Three: A small rest and a loooong hike.
Canticle of Andraste: Andraste seeks an end to the suffering of the Alamarri
Great heroes beyond counting raised
Oak and iron 'gainst chains of north-men
And walked the lonely worm-roads evermore.
Mighty of arm and warmest of heart,
Rendered to dust. Bitter is sorrow,
Ate raw and often, poison that weakens and does not kill.
Why must the Shield of Alamarr shatter
'Neath bond and blade? To the wisest I sang,
To the wing'd cup-bearers of the tall sky-vaulting,
To the wintry halls of strong mountain-kings,
Where in days forgotten, voices there raised
Might be gift'd answer and those seeking find.
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I woke up feeling decidedly better than I had expected given the long periods of battle and emotional strain of the day before. Part of that could have easily been the fact that my dreams had been quiet things. Memories of the lands I grew up on, the scent of the ocean, my Mother's quiet visits and Father's rumbling voice telling tall tales both of Andrastian and Dalish origin. Soothing memories that helped calm some of the pain in my heart.
The other part of waking up in such a good mood was definitely the feeling of slim fingers combing through my hair and a soft humming melody that I couldn't place, but knew was Elven by the light cadence and half-sung words that were sung here and there. I turned my head faintly, nuzzling against the softest pair of... pillows...that I'd ever had the pleasure of touching and earned a soft laugh. There was the faint clapping-thud of a book being shut and I opened my eyes to see Morrigan setting aside the odd, yet interesting, tome that I had found in Irving's office.
"I see that you have decided to grace us with your presence once more, oh valiant Warden," Morrigan said in a dry, but soft tone.
"Mmm," I chuckled softly. "And I see you found the book that I'd brought along for you."
"Oh?" she raised a brow at me and smiled faintly. "T'was that why you left your pack where it lay, open with all your little articles and maps strewn about the floor of my tent?"
"Mmm, essentially," I said.
I started to raise my head to see how much of a mess I'd actually left. I could have sworn that only the book and a single map had fallen from the pack, but then again I -had- been fairly exhausted when she dragged me off. Her hand pushed me back down with a gentle firmness, a soft scoff making things... jiggle. I could feel the blush start to climb up my cheeks.
"Oh, do not bother My Warden," she said with a partially put-upon sigh, though her lips were curled up into a faint smile. "I already cleaned up the mess and placed things back into your pack. The rest of the camp is not up as yet and there is still and hour or two left before dawn, so you do not need to get up as yet."
"Thank you Morrigan," I said softly, sincerely. "For that and... well."
"As long as you do not start spouting falsehoods of prowess like other fool males simply for having spent the night in my tent, 'tis fine," she said with another huff.
"I thought my name was 'Darren', not 'Zeveran'?" I asked with a smirk and a too-innocent expression.
That comment earned me a small jab to the side and I let out an exaggerated 'oomph' of sound. The bemused-annoyed look she flashed at me was worth it. I shifted against her and relaxed against her side once more. Her fingers resumed their path seconds later, but her expression grew pensive. I frowned and tilted my head.
"Is there something the matter My Lady?" I asked softly, voice calm... soothing. If she did not wish to talk, then I would not press her, but she seemed uneasy for some reason.
"Yes... and no," she said with a small glower at the book she'd been perusing. "Do you know what that tome is?"
"Noo..." I said slowly, tone questioning.
"'Tis my Mother's Grimoire," she said in a tone that was both reverent and yet... she sounded disturbed. "It had been lost to the Templars and their Circle some time ago. I am learning many spells that my Mother had deemed me too young to know... and more besides..."
"That last part... does not sound promising," I said slowly. Flemeth would not have been foolish enough to write about what I'd seen of her in my vision. Right?
"I... will need to read more of the tome to be sure of my growing suspicions," she started... her voice cut off with a frustrated sigh.
I sat up and took her hand in gently in my own, pressing a small kiss to the back of it.
"I brought the book back for you Morrigan," I said softly. "It seemed interesting and I thought that we might be able to study it and discuss its' contents together. You seem to enjoy knowledge as much as I. Debate as much as I. If you need time to peruse its' contents without me due to it being of a far more personal nature than I had ever thought possible, then take the time you need. I will not rush you."
She raised her brow at me again.
"And if I find I do not wish to share any of it with you at all?" she asked in a stiff tone.
"Then I will let you be," I responded in a firm tone. "Morrigan, you just told me that this is your -Mother's- Grimoire. This book is then -your- families knowledge. Perhaps even family history. It is none of my business unless you wish to share it with me."
"Again and again you surprise me My Warden," she said after several minutes of quietly contemplating my visage. "T'were only that there were more males like yourself in the world."
I let out a bemused huff of breath.
"Would you have me fight them for your hand then?" I asked with a grin. That earned me another jab to my side.
"I do not enjoy the foolish posturing of men flexing their muscles like barbarians," she said in a teasing, yet partially scathing tone. "Nor do I enjoy the tom-foolery of poorly spouted attempts at poetry or romantic evenings like The Bard so gustily sighs over when she tells her stories at night."
"I know that My Lady. You are not soft like a noble woman. You are hard like steel, more clever than a raven and as fierce as a dragon when you wish to be. I will treat you with nothing but the respect that you deserve," I said softly. I caught her hand again and this time placed a kiss to the pulse over her wrist. I could feel her pulse quicken beneath my lips. "Tell me to go and I will go. Tell me to stay... and I shall."
Her gaze was heated, hungry... and yet somehow shy. By the Maker, I wanted her. Wanted to hold her, cherish her, fight by her side and watch her lay low our enemies with that smug little smile she always had during battle. I'd not been lying about my opinion of her. She was fierce. Untamed. Beautiful. And all of that meant that -she- would be the one to choose the next course of action when it came to 'us'. I had to read her queues on that end and hope for the best.
Her gaze suddenly turned playful and she turned her head just enough to look at me out of the corner of her eyes.
"Perhaps I do not want a pup begging for attention," she said with a teasing huff.
"A 'pup' am I?" I responded with a grin. Carefully, hoping that I would not spook her, I shifted so that I was leaning over her, one hand braced against the ground, one still holding her own gently. My heart was thudding wildly in my ears and I prayed to the Maker that I had not misjudged her words. My next words came out in a low purr. "Shut up and kiss me, My Lady."
Her eyes widened, pert mouth opening in shock at the sudden change in my additude combined with my usual habit of calling her thus. Her lips slowly curled up into a sultry grin and that fire, that beautiful fire that I loved flared bright in her eyes.
"Oh?" her own voice had gone low and breathy. "Indeed, I do believe that a wicked, wicked man seems to have caught me."
Her hand shifted in my own so that our fingers were tangled together.
"Shall I take that as a proposition My Warden?" she asked.
I took in a shuddering breath and flashed her a slightly feral smile.
"Absolutely," I said and then leaned down to push my lips against her own in a hungry kiss.
... at least Morrigan's tent was always set up further away from the rest as the next hour was spent in pure, unmitigated bliss...
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We got up a little while later and moved out of the tent. Sten and Mongrel were on watch duty, keeping each other company. Ike was just outside our tent. Everyone else looked to still be sleeping. I bent down and gave the feline a gentle scratch behind the ear, earning a contented purr and then followed Morrigan down to the stream so that we could clean up. I helped her put up her hair once it was washed and by the time we got back to camp, the rest of the group was up and either getting food ready or packing up the tents. Mongrel made his way over to Morrigan's side once she'd sat down and started going through her own pack. She pointed a finger at the Mabari and growled faintly at him.
"You ate my entire bag of herbs, you foolish, foolish dog," he whined at her and tried to flash her an innocent look. She scoffed. "Do not think that I am unaware of where it went Mongrel."
He let out a low, unhappy whine and contorted oddly so that one paw was over his belly.
"Tis your own fault for being so entirely gluttonous," she said with a sniff as she turned back to her pack. "Several of tose herbs were poisonous. You should be pleased that they did not kill you."
I tensed warily and glanced over Mongrel. Morrigan waved a hand at me.
"The daft thing will be fine," she said with a laugh. "Do not fret so My Warden. He will not perish any time soon."
Mongrel started barking at her and she raised a brow at him. I realized then that the entire group was paying attention to the pair, expressions ranging between incredulous (Wynne) to amused (everyone else). I took a seat next to Morrigan and Ike jumped into my lap. I started petting the feline and s/he immediately started purring again.
"Do not be ridiculous!" Morrigan said with a huffing laugh once Mongrel stopped barking. "I am certainly not going to give you more! I do not even have 'more' to give you."
A begging whine filled the air this time. He moved close and nuzzled at her leg.
"Ugh! You have some nerve creature!" she pulled away and gave him a rough, yet playful shove away from her. "And your breath leaves much to be desired. Off with you."
He started to slink away from her with yet another piteous whine.
"We shall see Mongrel," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I promise nothing."
Once that little conversation was over with, the others took the time to question Morrigan about what had happened. Did she -really- understand him and -how- being the primary question asked. She huffed at all of them and scooped up her bowl of porridge, answering them in a roundabout fashion that still left them wondering. I could almost see the question marks about Alistair's and Leiliana's heads. Only Sten had not asked her anything and she turned to the male in question.
"You are very quiet Sten," she said.
He glanced around at the others and then turned back to her.
"Only compared to some," he responded in a dry tone.
Morrigan, Wynne and I all laughed while the rest of the group feigned mortal insult.
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Once breakfast was finished, we started along the path that would lead us to both Haven and Ostagar. Leilana and Zeveran split from the group at the crossroads with another reminder to stay hidden and safe while travelling to Haven. The rest of us kept going uphill toward the mountain entrance to the great dwarven city. Sten had taken point, eager as he was to find his Asala. Morrigan walked next to me on my right and Ike was riding on Mongrel's back to my left. Wynne was behind us along with Alistair. For a moment I wished that we hadn't left Bodahn and his boy back at the Peak.
I'd put Alistair at the rear because he had started to resume his... less hygienic habits with his socks again and I could only hope that Wynne would knock some sense into his head.
The old woman was sometimes fastidious to a fault when it came to hygiene.
Eventuall, Wynne made her way up to our side. I glanced back at Alistair and noticed that his expression looked suitably chastised. Oh good, that meant progress was made. I frowned abruptly and shook my head. Why was I so concerned about his habits of cleanliness? Yeah, I preferred to be clean. Any mage did, but then thanks to magic, most mages knew more about the importance of keep wounds clean and washing one's hands regularly then most did. Yes, I'd -like- it if Alistair got better about that kind of stuff, but...
Why did it feel so pressing that he learn this stuff NOW? From Wynne who was the master at guilting people into behaving properly and had that motherly disappointment look down pat? Why-?
Morrigan's voice startled me out of my thoughts. It took me a moment to realize that she was talking to Wynne and not me.
"You do not approve of me, do you?" she asked the older woman.
"You have to ask?" Wynne said with a bemused yet upset huff. "I did not realize that I was being subtle."
"Ah, the old cat still has er claws I see," Morrigan responded in a dry tone. "And you also do not approve of my involvement with our stalwart Grey Warden."
I had to fight back the blush. Did they have to have this conversation about me with me standing, well walking, right here?
"You are dangerous, Morrigan," Wynne said, her tone serious. "Dangerous, cunning and thoroughly deceitful from what I have learned. But you are beautiful and he is young. It's a pity he doesn't know any better."
This time I couldn't hide the angry blush. Dammit Wynne... I opened my mouth to snap at the older woman and Morrigan's hand brushed against my own. A small thing, but it calmed me enough to allow her to handle the situation.
"Why Wynne," Morrigan started in a sugary tone, "I do believe that is the first time you have ever offered a compliment. To anyone. Thank you."
Wynne shot her a dark look.
"Only -you- would take that as a compliment," Wynne snapped back.
Morrigan came to an abrupt halt and leaned her face close to Wynne's. I paused and so did the rest of the group.
"Listen to me and listen well old woman," Morrigan started. "What happens between myself and Darren is none of your concern. You can approve or not approve as you wish, but this is one thing that you cannot influence or mold to your liking."
Wynne's expression went blank and she tilted her head at the other woman.
"So you say," she said eventually. "I do hope that one day soon you will discover that neither is he."
Morrigan bristled like an angry cat.
"You mistake my intent old cat," she growled out. She straightened a moment later and let out a derisive sniff. "And you are a fool."
Something in Morrigan's expression, which I couldn't see at that moment, or her words or -something-, had Wynne's expression turning thoughtful. As if she'd seen something that she hadn't expected to see in the younger woman's expression.
"Am I?" she glanced at me and then back to Morrigan before she started forward once more. "Well then... let us hope so."
Morrigan scoffed again and then picked up her pace so that she was walking next to Sten. Confused as to what had just happened between the two women, and quite certain that I did not wish to ask either of them about it, I started forward once more. Alistair caught up with me and muttered under his breath a moment later.
"Women are scary," he said in a conspiratorial whisper.
"Oh deary," Ike chimed up a moment later. "You have no idea do you?"
I flashed the cat a bemused look as Alistair sputtered.
"You... You... demon cat you!" he snapped. "I wasn't talking to -you-!"
"Yes yes," a paw was waved at him. "Such a clever come-back indeed. Why, your words are the very epitome of wit and skill."
Before Alistair could try to stutter out another weak comeback, I held up my hand.
"Enough you two, we are almost there," I said.
And we were. I could see the tent-tops of the bazaar that was said to be set up just outside Orzamar. We crested the hill and paused. Some in awe of the massive tents, some in awe of the crowd. For myself and, I imagine for Sten, what stopped us not the crowd but the sight of a tall, female Kossith talking sternly to a human vendor while she was in the process of carefully wrapping up several weapons in protective cloth.
What was another Kossith, potentially a follower of the Qun, doing all the way out here?