"I see the tales of Grey Warden endurance were not exaggerated."
They were on the trail now, headed to Orzammar. They had been walking for nearly four hours now. And though Lance found himself - and Morrigan – yawning and stretching constantly, he was not at all tired. In fact, every time he caught Morrigan's gaze, and they smiled to themselves, he felt better than he ever had in his life. All the aches and pains of months of travel disappeared.
And he found himself looking at Morrigan, smiling in his own dumb way, quite often. And was pleased to see that she was doing the same.
Leliana hummed and giggled the whole trip, and Lance had the suspicion that she knew. And he was somehow okay with that, as if it made it all the sweeter. As if it was more satisfying that way.
He shifted the weight of his pack on his shoulder, thinking again about his night with Morrigan, about her amazing body, and the look on her face when she whispered his name in the dark.
And their conversation that morning, the coy way she built herself up and said, with that longing glint in her eye, "I only wish to do what I desire. And if that happens to coincide with what you desire, then so be it."
And of course she knew very well what he desired, just as he knew what she desired. And they desired each other, more than anything else. Lance was already envisioning it. They would end this Blight, become heroes for it, and he would spend what time he had left with her. Grey Warden or no, he was not letting her pass away from him without a fight. They would have to drag him kicking and screaming.
She whistled a tune, soft. It was startling at first, and Lance felt himself just as surprised as Wynne and Alistair. Zevran, being Zevran, had caught on pretty quick.
"So, boss," he said, quietly so to keep their discussion private. "I take it that this is the morning of victory?"
"What?" Lance asked, pretending not to know what the Elf was talking about.
"Oh, don't give me that," said Zevran, nudging him lightly. "Old Zev has an eye for these things. A skill of the trade, if you will. I see things."
"I'm sure; Elves have sharp eyes."
"Hm. Go ahead. Play dumb. Just know that I know."
Zevran took a couple of steps backwards, so that he was walking behind him. Where Morrigan would normally have affixed a watchful eye on the assassin, she instead glanced over at Lance, and stopped whistling to suppress a laugh.
He found himself smiling, and chuckling lightly.
Leliana was quickly between them, asking Morrigan some rather unsubtle questions.
"Morrigan, you are glowing."
"Am I? Perhaps I am just working over one of mother's secret spells."
"No, I think this is a different glow. It is nice to see you two together."
Morrigan let out an exasperated sigh, but the smile did not disappear from her face.
"Is this more of your insipidness?" she asked. Leliana shrugged, unfazed and still completely happy.
"You can't possibly believe that the rest of us haven't noticed," she said. She leaned in to whisper to Morrigan, "You are not gifted in subtlety."
"The Warden and I have naught but a professional relationship," she said. Leliana snorted, laughing at Morrigan's demeanor.
"And this is why he rushes off to save you? Because of your 'professional relationship'? Really, Morrigan, do not think us so dense."
"Are you not? My apologies. However, the Warden was only doing a personal favor for me, because he realizes how important I am to this mission."
"I'm sure. And last night the Warden was just performing a professional courtesy for you."
Morrigan smiled even wider, eyes gleaming, and she looked at the Warden fondly.
"Yes," she said. "Most vigorously."
He looked over at her, having pretended not to hear. And he found himself overcome with affection for her, and he reached out to touch her hand, subtly. She let her arm brush against his and she took on a flush.
"See, Morrigan?" Leliana said. "I know you are glad of it."
She didn't reply simply continued walking, glancing over at her brave Warden, her Warden.
And this continued for the duration of the journey to Orzammar. The trip took three nights on the road, and each night Morrigan had found some convenient excuse to visit Lance in his tent. If it wasn't to "discuss important matters" then it was to "see to his health". It was all very transparent, of course, so about the time they were absconding to the woods to do some "scouting" everyone in the group knew about their relationship.
Alistair spent several evenings frowning to himself, waiting for the two to return as he stirred a bowl full of his disgusting stew.
"Honestly, what does someone like him want with someone like her?" he asked. Leliana shrugged, gagging on a mouthful of potato. Wynne listened, disinterestedly, and she too seemed at least a bit curious as to why the Warden would choose to spend so much of his time and energy on such a woman.
"Love is blind," said Leliana. "I'm sure he knows her better than any of us. Maybe she has some more endearing qualities?"
"All I know is she's the most vile, putrid, rancid bitch of a woman I've ever met," said Alistair. He set aside his bowl, unable to eat it. "Besides, he's a Grey Warden. We sort of have more important things to do than make kissy-faces in the forest."
"Indeed we do," said Wynne. "But, perhaps, this is a good thing."
Alistair shrugged, making a face.
"Think about it. She's maleficar, and rotten to the core. There's no way that their… union could be good for him."
"That has occurred to me," said Wynne. "But look at it the other way; perhaps he'll be a good influence on her?"
"Oh, why can't you two be more judgmental? Mark my words; nothing good will come of this."
"None of us know her, Alistair," said Leliana. "Not so well as he, anyway."
"Yes, but in the time we have known her, has there been anything about her worth liking? Just the thought of those two… laying together makes me nauseous. I know I'm not the only one, am I, Wynne?"
"I try not to think about them having relations."
"That's not what I meant."
Leliana grinned to herself and said, "Maybe he likes her shrieking? She sounds like a genlock being murdered. Grey Wardens like that, don't they?"
Alistair shuddered.
"I wouldn't mind not having to listen to her 'shrieking'."
"She is a loud one, isn't she?"
Wynne scoffed at them.
"Have you two nothing better to do than gossip? I, for one, would rather not pay attention to anything regarding their love life, and would thank you both to do the same."
She stood up, and she went to her tent, turning in early. Secretly, she was worried about the consequences of such a relationship, if only for Lance's sake. He was young, and in love. She had been like him, once upon a time. She worried that he would let his love cloud his better judgment.
Lance and Morrigan returned from their "scouting", Lance smiling to himself, struggling to keep his eyes open. Morrigan had one arm around him, and she too smiled in her own devious way.
"The woods seem to be safe, for the moment," said Morrigan. Lance nodded, and smiled wider as he glanced over at her.
"Very safe."
Leliana giggled to herself again and said, "Perhaps you scared away our enemies?"
Alistair snorted. "Sent them home sick more like."
"What was that, Alistair?" asked Morrigan, urging Lance to kiss her. "I could not hear you."
Alistair pretended to gag, and he threw aside his stew.
"Well, I suppose I won't be getting any sleep tonight," he said, leaving to go to his tent.
"You are not the only one, Alistair," said Morrigan, leaning fondly against Lance. Sometimes he got the feeling she liked teasing Alistair more than she liked him. As of late, the insults to his intelligence had disappeared and were instead replaced by subtle references to her relationship to his fellow Warden.
Not that Lance had a problem with it.
Of course, she had also included subtle barbs directed at Leliana, Morrigan having perceived a victory over the girl. Lance wished that she'd lay off of that.
"Warden," said Morrigan, turning to enter his tent. "I believe the other evening you performed a very particular service for me," she turned to Leliana and added, "with his tongue. I would like a… repeat performance."
She turned on her heel and entered his tent, calling out that she would be waiting in breathless anticipation for him. Lance looked at Leliana, red-faced.
"I, uh, should probably go take care of… that."
She looked up at him, entirely unaffected by Morrigan's lack of tact. Or etiquette. Or really any manners whatsoever.
"It is good to hear that you are a gentleman," she said. She stood to go to her own bed. "Just remember that when it comes to 'that', less is more."
He felt himself go warm in the face as she walked away, suddenly more embarrassed than he could recall having been in his life. And then he started to laugh.
"Maker, I love this woman."
He went to his tent, licking his lips in anticipation as he reached for the flap. And he was stopped by Wynne, who desired a private conversation.
"Warden, if I may?" she asked, emerging from her own tent. Lance made a noise of irritation; a canvas sheet separating him from Morrigan's waiting form.
"Yes, Wynne?" he asked, approaching her. He shifted awkwardly, glancing over his shoulder at the tent.
"You're quite taken with each other, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes," he said, again glancing at his tent and the woman waiting within. "Quite."
"Do you realize the dangers of such a relationship?"
Lance rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, Wynne, but I fail to see how our relationship should concern you. Am I aware that she's an apostate? Yes. Am I aware that by and large she cares for nothing but herself? Yes. But there's so much about her that you don't know. There's so much about her that I love."
"Perhaps. I do not know her, you are right in this. I do know that as a Grey Warden there may come a day where you will have to choose between her and your mission. I would rather you not have to make that choice."
"As would I," said Lance, again looking anxiously over his shoulder. He looked at Wynne quite squarely. "Are you asking me to give up on her?"
"I am asking you to consider whether this relationship is good for you. Both of you."
Lance shook his head, giving a wry laugh to keep himself from fuming.
"I've been given nothing but shit from this world," he said. "And all that's left for me is to be a Grey Warden. I will do my duty. But I will not let Morrigan go. I can't."
Wynne nodded to him, narrowing her eyes.
"Very well. Forget I said anything, then. I just wish you well."
Lance wanted to say more to her, to apologize or to really rip into her. But Morrigan called to him from the tent.
"Grey Warden! I can only entertain myself for so long!"
Lance went red again. He looked at Wynne sheepishly.
"I should, uh, go see to… that."
He turned and made for his tent, disappearing inside with a mischievous grin. There was laughter, and whispered, breathy words from within.
Wynne sighed to herself. "Such childish antics."
And as she returned to her tent, she allowed herself only the slightest of smiles.
