UPDATE 2014/10/05: IMPORTANT (for those with an story alert, who did not see the message before chapter 1: I did some work on chapter 1, so it might be wise to reread this one first!

Back in the days, decades before…

Blasted! No tears. Not for this. Pull yourself together! No. Tears.

It didn't do much good. All her attempts at forcing herself to stop it from happening were already in vain. She had thought she had it under control now. That she could take anything without resorting to petty emotions and the weakness they wrought. Yet the drop running down her cheek begged to differ.

I'll have to get down to the stream again. Wash it away before she notices.

Mother did not approve of tears. Not in the least. She had been pretty clear about that and the girl certainly wouldn't want to go through the ordeal of Mother learning about her weakness. Especially for this.

Stupid, stupid beast!

Why hadn't it come today? And yesterday? It had always been there. Right here, at her own little place – always! Had she done anything wrong? And why did she care at all, blasted!

"Well, well. What have we here?" The voice cut through the air like a blade.

No, she can't be here! She's never here. This is the only time of day that she just lets me be alone.

Hastily, she tried her best to brush the treacherous liquid out of her face as casually as possible before she turned around. Maybe Mother hadn't noticed yet.

Who am I trying to fool here? Of course she has.

"Young Morrigan in distress, it would seem. Not a pleasant sight. Why might she be so sad, I wonder?"

Morrigan just stood there, frozen. What could she do? Denying wouldn't help and admitting…would be worse.

Stupid, stupid beast.

As Flemeth, the grand Witch of the Wilds, slowly and gracefully drew closer, Morrigan could see the subtle smile on her face. It might have looked compassionate or encouraging to some. Unfortunately she knew better than that.

"Speak up, daughter. What upsets you so? Did that little bird not return today…again? That would make three days in a row, if I am not mistaken? It has not been absent that long ever before."

Morrigan's heart sank deeper and deeper. She knew! Mother knew about the sparrow. She had known it all along – for weeks. She…

…she has been observing me. Even here.

"It's…it's my…my…experiment," she managed. Just thinking of the words "my friend" made her realize how foolish the whole idea had been.

It was just an animal. It was not here to be your friend. That would be foolish. Are you a fool, girl?

Yet the tears had betrayed her.

Mirthlessly, Mother laughed: "Oh, Morrigan! My ears bore witness to better lies out of your mouth when you were three. Dare not to even think that you could fool your old mother like that."

Morrigan sighed. Of course not.

Damn that stupid bird! If only I had never seen it here.

Oh, she had ignored it the first time she had seen it. It was just an animal after all. But the more often she had come here, the more this became her special hiding place – the more often she had seen the sparrow. And somehow that little fellow had grown on her. It was not a beautiful bird, by no means! But it was here and it was nice and it looked at Morrigan without any sign of judgment. She had started bringing little breadcrumbs with her and feed it…and she had started talking to it. It was only a bird. And yet it also was the only living thing besides Mother she could meet and talk to on a regular basis. That was as close at Morrigan ever got to having a friend. Mother did not approve of friends.

"Well, well…" Mother's voice had that undertone again. Not good. Not good at all. "Obviously, your little friend has turned away from you. Maybe for another bird. Maybe it has a family now. Or maybe another foolish girl somewhere else has been feeding it and it has forgotten you. And maybe, just maybe…there might be something to learn from this." She fixated Morrigan with that dangerous look. "Say: Did you learn something today, daughter?"

"Right now, I care not about you lessons, Mother!" The words just burst out and Morrigan immediately bit her lip.

Foolish girl!

Flemeth did not move at all. She just stood there like a rock. Unmovable.

"So, do you really think life's lessons will wait for you until you are willing to learn then? We learn when we must, not when we want. Now: Did you learn something today, daughter?"

It was the same question. The same tone. Nothing had changed. Yet Morrigan knew what would happen if she failed the lesson now. It would be…unpleasant.

Please not again.

"I…I should not put my trust in animals? Because they will disappoint me in the end?"

Mother remained unmoved. "And if an animal, a being of pure instinct, will behave like that, do you think that the lesson is limited to them?"

Morrigan's head sunk. Of course not. She should have seen that. "No. 'Tis the same with humans, of course. Unreliable and skittish they are. I should not trust them either. Less even."

As she looked up she didn't see any approval in her mother's eyes. Maybe she had expected something else. Maybe that had been the lesson and it had just taken her too long to figure it out. Or maybe Mother wasn't convinced that she had learned it by heart.

Trust was weakness, alright. But it had just been a little bird after all. Where was the harm in that?

Chapter 2

The Kindling

"It is soooo cute, no? I mean…an ankle bracelet? Isn't that something new? I think it would look nice. Don't you think it would look nice?"

No reaction.

"I could buy it right now and put it on afterward. It just costs…" she began.

"…one sovereign for you, my lady. And I agree: It would look magnificent!" the merchant blurted out enthusiastically.

She put on her sweetest smile – it was also a false one.

I wasn't talking to you at all.

Leliana tried again, this time in her cheeriest, most childish voice. It was bound to do the trick, wasn't it? "You hear that? One sovereign! That's a good price, no?"

Still no reaction.

"Morrigan? I asked you something."

The witch looked at her with no visible sign of disapproval at all. "Yes, buy it if you like."

With a sigh Leliana handed the bracelet back to the merchant, who did not even try to cover up his irritation at this missed opportunity. No doubt he would have enjoyed selling this most ugly and overpriced piece of junk his collection had to offer to what he had considered a naïve and ignorant young lady from Orlais. But Leliana had never intended to do him the favor. All she had wanted was to tease Morrigan a bit, get the usual reaction out of her. The witch was supposed to lecture her how utterly useless a piece of jewelry worn at a part of the body where nobody could see it really was – and how ridiculous it would be to pay a sovereign for such nonsense. They were supposed to argue over this.

It was supposed to be fun.

But it wasn't. Not anymore. Leliana sighed as they returned to their slow stroll over the market of Hightown, full of people, yet oddly quiet for the sheer number of city folk on their feet. Kirkwall sure hadn't changed for the better since her last visit. Something had been in the air even back then – and that nameless feeling had only intensified since then. There were more templars patrolling now – more templars than guardsmen, come to think of it – and while Leliana had no problem with that personally, she knew that it was seldom a good sign for a thriving city. Especially not for a city with a Circle of Magi right at the core. The tension was palpable and made the folk of Kirkwall act accordingly: their eyes down most of the time, their voices muttered, and their laughs suppressed. All very matter-of-factly.

Everybody minding their own business, trying not to attract any attention.

She had expected this. Returning here had not been something she had looked forward, too. Yet she had a task to complete, whether she liked it or not. It had been an order from the Divine herself and she had none been able to swing Dorothea's opinion on this one. But her mood had lightened a lot when one night the raven had arrived, the one carrying a message from Morrigan – their safest way of communicating while she was in Val Royeaux. In her typical scratchy handwriting (Leliana presumed that in Flemeth's 'education' writing had had a much lower priority than reading) the witch had told her plans of heading towards Sundermount. Leliana had felt like dancing that moment: finally a chance to be together for a few weeks again! It had been so long.

Well, and then came the dream…

Leliana cursed herself for even telling Morrigan all the details. It was a mistake. The mistake that lead to this…

We don't even argue anymore. Not even over a stupid ankle bracelet.

It seemed that the dark message of her vision – for that it was, Leliana had little doubt about that – and their argument after that had eaten their way deep into their hearts.

Now I wish we were fighting or at least arguing. That would make things easier.

Instead every sentence seemed laden with subtext, every word robbed of its innocence – and so they talked less and less. It was safer not to mention the unthinkable. Because what else could it mean after all? The prison, Raleigh, Marjolaine…all of that was long gone. Morrigan had been the only element in the dream that was not a fragment of a past that could no longer touch her. What else could be the 'tomb', mentioned so intensely?

It was, after all, a dangerous game they were playing. She had thought about it some more: If a relationship between the Left Hand of the Divine and an apostate became known, it could quite easily become her tomb in a very, very physical way. In the past years Leliana had had dealings with the Seekers of the Truth…and they would certainly not think twice if they learned about this. Dorothea could only protect her so far without risking taking any damage herself and Cassandra, her most trusted contact with the Seekers, might be the Right Hand of the Divine, but hardly the one controlling the Seekers. In fact, all that Cassandra had told her about the actual Lord Seeker hinted toward him being a tough and merciless man – and from a woman who was hard as a brick herself these words did carry weight.

That was the good thing about this journey: Here in Kirkwall, nobody knew her or Morrigan. She did not wear any chantry insignia right now and Morrigan, well…Morrigan looked odd as usual, but she did not have an 'apostate'-sign attached to her head either. As far as the people of Kirkwall – and the templars – were concerned, they were just two normal innocent women minding their own business.

This was supposed to be fun.

But how could it be when a dream might have told her that it needed to be over. It was an unsettling thought, of course, but what else was the possible consequence of the vision? Did they need to end it in order to survive?

Maker, no. You can ask anything of me – anything – but not this.

She had tried to tell that to Morrigan. That despite all the possible implications she was not willing to let go of what they had. The mere thought of that was enough to make her wanting to cry after all. Never since that night at the keep had she even looked at another woman, never had the thought crossed her mind that it could ever be over.

We are meant to be and I will rather die than give that up.

That's what she had told Morrigan the day after, too. The witch had just nodded and given her a quick kiss. But that had been it. The seed of doubt was out there.

"Well, I'll be damned: if that isn't my favorite songbird!"

A familiar voice pierced through her thoughts while the arm suddenly slung over her shoulder did a good job of washing any thought away for good. Out of a reflex, Leliana spun around…and stared into big brown eyes and a beautiful, all too familiar face she hadn't expected in the least.

"Isabela!" her outcry was just a bit louder than intended, but for the moment she didn't mind. Maker, it was good to see a happy face for once!

"In the flesh," the woman with the blue bandana and the, well, 'challenging' outfit stated with a chuckle. "Good to see you, girl!"

For a moment Leliana was overwhelmed, not exactly sure which way was appropriate to welcome an…old friend like her. But Isabela did not leave her much time for contemplation and a second later she found herself in a hearty hug. Not exactly subtle, but Leliana couldn't care less.

"Now, what might you be doing here?" Isabela asked after releasing her. "Still being, you know, one of the 'good girls'?"

Leliana smiled (Maker, it felt good to smile again!): "Of course, of course. And you? Still being a bad girl, yes?"

A broad grin appeared around the pirate's lips. "It's a hard job, but someone's got to do it, right?" Abruptly, as if to prove her words, Leliana noticed the rather unsubtle indistinguishable, smell of alcohol around her,

It's barely afternoon. Has she been drinking already?

Then again: Isabela did like a good drink, as Leliana remembered only too well…a memory making her blush unwillingly. It was a abiding memory, which was not exactly appropriate given the fact that she was here with…

Morrigan!

Leliana cursed herself for nearly forgetting about her. She had been too…distracted. As she turned around, she could see the witch standing there with a very distinctive and – considering the situation: very appropriate – frown on her face.

Quickly, Leliana made a gesture, turning Isabela's attention towards Morrigan, ready to make the introduction: "Isabela, I want you to meet…" And suddenly she recalled. "Oh, right: You probably remember my friend Morrigan?"

For a moment, the pirate seemed to contemplate, but then the first sign of recognition showed on her face as it dawned on her: "Oh, of course! You would be the…" Fortunately she held her tongue before saying something stupid. "…the hermit woman, right? You want a hug, too?"

Morrigan stared at her coldly: "Not if I can help it. If I had any intention of suffocating, I am sure to find better places then your embrace."

Leliana sighed in relief. The people around them had let their loud reunion only distract them for a moment and were minding their own business again, yet it would have been not too wise to say the word 'witch' out loudly.

Now for the harder part…

"Morrigan, you remember Isabela, yes?"

The witch never left her eyes of the pirate: "Do I, now? It must have slipped my memory then."

Leliana frowned. Was that meant as an insult or did she really not recall her? She decided to play it safe: "Of course you know her!" she murmured. "Denerim? The Pearl?"

"Oh yes, that pirate whore."

Leliana wished the ground would open and swallow her up.

Maker's Breath, Morrigan!

She was just about trying to make up an excuse, but luckily, Isabela simply laughed at that. "That's precious. Usually only my friends call me that."

"I presume there is no shortage of well-paying 'friends' then," Morrigan said icily.

"Careful, wild girl," Isabela's voice did not deviate from the cheerful, amused tone, "I do remember another name for you. You know what I mean: another word for hermit woman. Makes the templars edgy. Rhymes with 'bitch'," than she grinned wolfishly, "Actually, never mind: that one fits, too."

Leliana felt the need to interfere before the two women would say something really foolish – or stare each other to death. "Could we please," she whispered, "agree that Isabela is not a whore and Morrigan not a…whatever you meant she was."

For a moment, the two women continued their little staring contest, then, abruptly, Isabela turned towards Leliana again chuckling. Leliana was relieved and felt a bit stupid: Of course Isabela wasn't going to get angry or irritated by Morrigan's word. She was just playing, as usual. "Interesting company, songbird. I did not know you were still travelling together."

"We are just…" Leliana began.

"…travel companions," Morrigan added hurriedly.

Maker's breath! Now that was subtle…

It had been too much to hope that Isabela wouldn't have noticed the insecurity in their answer. Her eyes widened incredulously as she turned from Leliana to Morrigan and back again: "So…you…and you…" A roaring laughter followed, "Andraste's granny-panties, that is priceless!"

"Isabela…," Leliana started.

"No, songbird. No need to explain. Whatever works for you," she said with a wink towards Leliana before she turned at the thunderstruck Morrigan, "And you, wild girl: You are a very lucky woman." Fortunately she had the common sense not to wink at her, too. Otherwise, Leliana feared, actual bloodshed had been inevitable.

But she did relax a little. It was a strange experience, but in a way it was nice that a friend knew about them. She knew Isabela well enough to be sure that the woman might tease all that she wanted, but she did know how to keep a secret. This could turn out to be fun, right?

Isabela sighed, calming down a little. "Well, girls, that settles it then. Now I've officially seen everything. Alright, maybe if I should run into Orsino and Meredith making out at the Hanged Man, I'll revise that, but hey: you can live with that, can't you? Just can't compete with the big ones."

The two names brought Leliana back to reality. Orsino, the Great Enchanter. Meredith, the Knight-Commander. Kirkwall. Her task.

"So, the situation is that dire, yes?" She was surprised how calm and matter-of-factly her voice sounded. It was the agent of the Divine speaking.

Isabela's smile lessened significantly. "You have no idea, songbird. Oh, no, wait – I bet you do. That's why you are here, I suppose?" Leliana nodded. "And you thought it was a good idea to bring your friend here along…why? Because she's that good with the people you're working for?"

"Not really, Morrigan is just here to visit Sundermount."

She wanted to slap herself the moment after the words had come out. Had that been a smart thing to say? Morrigan's icy stare sure seemed to suggest otherwise, but she had reflexively wanted to keep her out of this business with the templars and the mages – by any means.

Isabela whistled. "Sundermount, well, that's a weird place to go, wild girl. I hope you have a guide at your disposal?"

"'tis a mountain," Morrigan spat out. "I am feeling quite confident that I should be able to find it on my own without any risk of overlooking it."

"Oh, I'm sure you can and I'd love to see you try. But there's a lot of dangers you don't know about. And we would not want songbird here worrying about you, would we?" She made a short pause for effect, before she continued: "But consider yourself lucky. Because I happen know just the person who can help." A wicked grin appeared on her face. "And trust me: you are going to love her."

She hated her.

Of course Isabela had probably known that all along and could have barely waited for Morrigan's face when she finally met her 'guide'.

…and of course I did not disappoint.

The faintest drop of interest had found its way through the ocean of frustration, anger and annoyance in Morrigan's head at the moment they arrived at an astonishingly wealthy estate in Hightown. A Dalish woman who could have made it this far in a human city to live in a building like this? That had sounded curious. For a fracture of a moment.

It was gone once she had actually met Merrill and learned that the true reason she lived here was that the estate, in fact, belonged to currently absent boyfriend, some Ferelden man who most people here seemed to regard as the city's very own knight in shining armor ascended out of the dust. Morrigan knew that type. In all likelihood he was probably just your typical spoilt noble who got lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time without looking nearly as arrogant and selfish as the other lords and ladies. The usual pretender. Which made this Merrill…

…just another despicable little girl who made mooneyes to the right man. Pitiful.

An impression Morrigan saw underlined by the girl's tendency to spontaneously start babbling like a little child – and the way she had stared at Morrigan in pure awe when introduced, as if she just witnessed the rising of a dragon. More than that, she could picture Merrill staring like that at everyone and everything, an impressionable child in a world full of rainbows. Some men just loved that behavior, this Hawke-fellow obviously among them.

Isabela, naturally, had smirked when witnessing Morrigan's without a doubt sour face after the introduction, fully aware of how she had hated that foolish Dalish girl the moment she had laid eyes on her.

Isabela.

She couldn't even begin to explain how much that woman irritated her. Those stupid jokes, the constant amusement, the winking and the innuendos…it was disdainful.

Which made it even worse how Leliana could fall for all of that. It was a miraculous as well as troubling sight how quickly she seemed to have found her smile again the moment that pirate whore made an appearance.

What does she see in her?

Morrigan could only dimly remember how they had met this woman in Denerim during the Blight. Leliana, however…she seemed to know her disturbingly well. The way they acted together, the impertinent hug, the little glances, all the touching and winking…it was as if they were old friends.

Or more than that?

She shivered at the dreadful thought that at some point Leliana and that poor excuse for a woman could have been… She didn't want to finish the thought, but yet it was there.

Even if: why should I bother?

It was nerve-wrecking: Of course she was aware that Leliana had had partners in the past and while that was all good and fine, she could not help an unfamiliar feeling nagging at her, impossible to describe yet still eating her from the inside, every time she heard Leliana chuckle at some foolish jest that woman had uttered.

It was frustrating when Morrigan full well knew that her mind was probably playing tricks on her and that there was no rational reason to be as agitated by the Isabela's bold and challenging smiles – especially when she should focus on more important matters.

Yet here they were, looking at a map on the wall as Merrill stuttered an explanation about Sundermount's position and the way up there – and all she could focus on was how Isabela had somehow managed to stare at the map right over Leliana's shoulder (naturally not without any physical contact) while looking both bored and mocking at the same time – bored about the explanation, mocking at Morrigan? Again it made no sense and there was no real indicator that she was actually aware of the witch, but the feeling persisted.

She doesn't even look at my face, but she just knows how I look and what I feel at the moment. Is this some game to her?

She had to do something to end this.

"Well, 'tis a mountain then," she spat out. A little too annoyed? Did she reveal too much? Did Isabela notice? Was that a laugh?

She is a demon! Just look at her – you need to get rid of her.

It was maddening. She knew how foolish that voice in her head was, but there seemed no remedy to deal with it, make it go away. Why did cold logic fail here? This needed to stop…now.

"'Tis a mountain and I do see myself capable of reaching it without breaking my legs." She took up on the previous thought.

"So…you don't want my help? Not that I think you need it, I'm sorry. I am sure you can look out for yourself, but there's…never mind. I should…I shouldn't be talking. Not at all," Merrill stammered nervously.

"Don't worry, kitten. You two will get along just fine," Isabela laughed. "Besides that, there are the Dalish to consider."

"I can deal with the Dalish," Morrigan stated coldly.

"Oh, yes. I'm sure that normally you'll get along just peachy with them. After all you do have the same sense of humor." Isabela grinned and turned to Leliana, silently, but obviously forming the word 'None' on her lips. Leliana did her best to suppress a giggle – A giggle, damn that pirate whore! – and then softly punched Isabela in the ribs. "But seriously," the pirate continued, "I am not so sure about them now. They have become very…weird with humans after, well, the last incident. Merrill here might not be their…favorite person in the world either, but maybe she can at least make sure they don't shoot you on sight, wild girl."

"I…this is probably not a good idea…I mean, what can I expect…"

The girl's nervous rambling went on for a while but Morrigan didn't listen. All she could think of was the giggle.

A blasted giggle! I used to hate that!

…and now the thought of how that woman had stolen that from her seemed to choke her.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing she has given me in the past days. And now…

It was not even true: Leliana had tried to establish some sort normal conversation, but it had all seemed so…forced. Morrigan had no interest in that sort of nonsense.

And as soon as Isabela showed up, she suddenly could laugh again.

She could feel her heart pumping wildly as the nameless feeling was suffocating her from the inside. What was that?

Weakness.

The word hung in her head and with it the tone of a too familiar voice. The voice of an old woman, who was…

…gonegonegone. That's what she is: gone. Concentrate!

She could see them talking, their voices nearly down to a muffled and hollow flicker. She stared at Leliana, who looked back at her with – what? Concern? Pity?

She was talking, too, but all Morrigan could hear right now was the her voice. Telling her how this would end. Lecturing her about what a foolish, foolish girl she had been to let this into her heart. Laughing. Oh, how she hated laughs right now! All the world seemed to laugh now, all except her. Making her.

Alone. Again.

How could she have allowed for such weakness? How could she ever have believed that it would go down any other way than this? 'I told you so. It is not something meant for you, my child.'

Out! I need…to get…out.

"Then we go," she said suddenly, surprised at how calm and concentrated her voice was despite the roaring thunder in her head.

"What? Like…now?" Merrill stared at her in disbelief. "But it's already late afternoon, we would…"

"Now." Morrigan repeated coldly while burning from the inside.

Out! Out! Out!

"I do not have the luxury to waste any more time on idle chatter," she managed without the faintest sign of the chaos engulfing her thoughts.

And as soon as she noticed Merrill reluctantly setting herself in motion, she spun around and walked out. Fast. No look back.

The amusement of the old woman in her head followed her outside.

Leliana reached Morrigan just around the estate. Still a little breathless (the witch had been storming off as if being chased after all) she managed to catch up with her.

What is up with her?

"Morrigan, a word, please?"

After a moment of hesitation, Morrigan finally stopped her stride – if only because Merrill had done so once she had heard Leliana's shouting. Morrigan stared at her and she just looked back in silence. Then they both turned to the Dalish girl who obviously hadn't gotten the message yet.

"I am sure that was supposed to mean 'a word in private', girl." Morrigan snapped at the poor elf, which finally made Merrill jump.

"Oh, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I…I could just wait for you at the gate, right?" she stammered – and hurried away without even waiting for an answer.

Finally, they were alone. More or less. There were a few people out on the streets of Kirkwall, but Leliana had her doubts that suggesting to go back to the estate would find Morrigan's approval right now. Given the coldness emanating from the witch's presence, people seemed determined to give the two of them all the space they needed anyway. Once more it became abundantly clear that there was something in the air here – some nameless feeling of uneasiness which made the citizens nervous. No one wanted to get involved in any trouble, even if two women fighting in the street wasn't in fact anything threatening the city's safety.

Are we actually fighting, though? And if so: because of what?

"Is everything alright?" she asked. A foolish question to start with; she knew that. But Leliana had to start somewhere, right?

The witch snorted sarcastically. "Oh, everything is just brilliant – how kind of you to ask. I am about to go on a little trip with an annoying little elven girl and despite the temptation of invigorating talks with your new best friend, you finally seem to have found a way to notice my existence as well. How honored I feel right now."

So that was it? Did Morrigan just feel neglected – or was it about…?

"This has nothing to do with Isabela then?" The question came out before Leliana could even think whether it was wise to ask it.

Well, why ignore the dragon in the room? She's obviously not comfortable with Isabela.

Leliana couldn't exactly say why the witch would so agitated. Sure, Isabela was not exactly Morrigan's type of person (then again: who was?), but the pirate was harmless and fun. Something they could really do with at the moment.

Or is it more like something I could do with?

Morrigan laughed humorlessly. "How could it? Isn't it just wonderful how that girl's japes brought the smile back on your face?"

That look on the witch's face – she knew that one. She had seen it on hundreds of face, sometimes even been the reason for it. But could it be? Leliana barely suppressed a chuckle. Jealousy? Really?

The mere thought of Morrigan, the Witch of the Wild, being jealous was just too much. She couldn't help but burst into laughter…which did not go particularly well with Morrigan.

"I am glad 'tis amusing to you."

"I am sorry, but could it be that we are just a little bit…possessive today?" She managed to avoid the actual word 'jealous'. It probably would not have changed things for the better.

Leliana had hoped that her obvious amusement would be enough to take the tension out of this subject, reveal it for the minor trifle it was. Unfortunately it was not.

"Now is that not just priceless? Being taught about self-control from a girl who just barely managed to keep her clothes on in there! Shall I politely knock at the door before I enter once I return? We would want to avoid me bursting in on you two at the worst possible moment, would we not?"

Leliana forced herself to a smile.

Seriously?

"Now you're just being paranoid, Morrigan."

"Oh, am I? So you and I, we travel all this way to this blasted city in the Free Marches and just happen to run into that old…acquaintance of yours by coincidence, is that it?"

"Yes!" Leliana could no longer hold back. "Yes, it is a coincidence, Morrigan! Maker's breath, I didn't even know she was still here!" she almost shouted…and immediately bit her lip, noticing what she had just said.

What is wrong with me today?

Meeting Isabela had woken up some…memories, yes. But this was hardly an excuse for such a foolish beginner's mistake. She hoped that Morrigan had overheard the little word. Naturally, that hope was in vain.

"…was still here." Morrigan repeated coldly, "Now that is a curious wording, is it not? So you did know she lived here. Interesting…"

Leliana sighed. This was all going wrong. Terribly wrong. It was one thing to see the witch jealous, but this – she had to stop it before it got out of hand. So she did the only thing that could help getting this conversation back in line: she told the truth.

"Yes. I did know. I met her here a few months ago while I was on another mission."

"Another mission." Morrigan's voice was acid now. "'Tis interesting, you know, how those just happen to bring you two together."

"It wasn't like that! She was just accompanying this man, Hawke…"

"That whore surely gets around."

"I told you, she's not a…"

"I do not care what she is!" Morrigan's voice was furious by now.

Maker, how did the tone of this conversation change into that so quickly? It's my fault, no? I should have seen that she cannot deal with this. She probably never had to.

"Then just let me explain!"

"No." That word cut it all off. "No, Leliana. I have no interest in your 'explanations' now. You did have three years to explain whatever you liked. You never did. 'Tis too late for that now; I care not for whatever colored tales your head might spin me right now."

With that, Morrigan turned around, ready to leave.

This isn't fair!

It wasn't like they actually talked much about…that sort of things. Sure, she had told her about Marjolaine (it was hard not to, given the nature of their relationship) but all the other things that happened before she and Morrigan became, well, whatever they were – all of that had never been relevant to their relationship. Of course she would have told her everything if the witch had shown any signs of interest. Admittedly, some of her former actions and acquaintances might have required a lot of…context to be explained properly. Yet: She would have told her everything, had the witch just asked. No, she still would tell her everything if need be. Tomorrow. The next day. A fortnight from now. Whenever. But now, in this very moment, she had to do something.

Maker, I have to fix this.

"Morrigan…," she said, trying to grab the witch's shoulder, but she was interrupted.

"You know, girl -" The way she used that word send a cold shiver down Leliana's spine. The tone of her voice suddenly had changed to the one of times long forgotten. Times back at the camp during the Blight when Morrigan would not honor attempts to talk with anything but cold contempt and disdain. "You sure did find your way out of that grave real quick."

Leliana froze. The words struck her like a cold knife – far below the belt.

"What…did you just say?"

She can't mean…?

Morrigan turned around again. "You heard what I said. 'This will be your tomb' – you surely figured a comfortable way out of that one in a remarkably short time. Was that the 'mission' all along?"

For a moment she just stared at the woman's face – Morrigan's face, but…was this the same woman? Or was this the Witch of the Wild again, Daughter of Flemeth, cold and hard and…lonely. Leliana felt tears pushing hard against her eyes, just by the mere thought of that.

Does she really think I'm leaving her? Running away because of that dream? Is that what she thinks of me?

"You can't possibly …"

"Oh, Leliana. How easy it must be for you. Whenever you are facing a decision, there is someone making it for you." Her words were ice now. Not the kind of ice you met in winter here. No, the other kind. The one that never melted. "Your precious Maker. Always there to justify. Never a doubt. How convenient that must be."

"Morrigan,…"

Please don't say this. Please.

"I do know this: A few nights ago, you woke up with a dream about me being your demise. And now you just happen to run into someone else. Someone who you – as it turns out – have met quite a few times before, but never felt the need to mention. Now riddle me this, bard: What do you expect me to think how this story might end? Will the good little Chantry girl forsake her Maker's warning and stick with an apostate, a relationship doomed from the beginning? Or will she dutifully do what her god so obviously asks of her and sacrifice that relationship 'for the Greater Good'? 'Tis not a hard one, girl. Not at all."

Leliana felt her heart breaking.

As if someone had stepped it with a dagger.

Again.

She thinks I made it all up. The dream. Everything. To end it. To end us.

As Morigan turned around and stepped away, Leliana wanted to follow her. Catch her. Stop her. Take her in her arms and tell her everything.

But she could not. Those words, that…tone – it had taken all the strength out of her.

"Morrigan", her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke. "You are wrong. I will be waiting for you. We'll talk about this once you did what you came for, yes? You are wrong, Morrigan. I will be here. I will be waiting."

The witch did not turn around this time. She could not even see Morrigan's face when she heard her say: "You might want to reconsider that, girl. Just think of how much easier it would be. But maybe your Maker will explain that to you, too, in your next little 'dream'. You will have a lot of time for dreams if you choose to wait."

A few moments later she was gone.

As she walked away she found it hard to concentrate on her breathing. The dark cloud was there – and this time it was suffocating, pressing all the air out of her.

The old familiar feeling.

It was a fear planted in her for as long as she could remember. Flemeth had seen to that, no doubt. The fear of being hunted for what she was. The fear of being betrayed by anybody who would find out about her true nature. The fear of being different. And of being alone forever.

Did she really plan that? Has the dream just been a pretext for this? Did she and that pirate wench plan this from the beginning? 'twas I who suggested coming along to Kirkwall, right? Accompanying her on this journey because of my own.

She tried to remember how Leliana had reacted when she had suggested that. Had there been any hints that she disapproved? That she was unwelcome? That…

…that Leliana might have a secret romance in Kirkwall? Did I miss the signs?

She couldn't believe that. Not at all.

As she stumbled through the streets she tried to concentrate on the last moments. That look on Leliana's face. It might be a bard's play, but it had looked like she was truly shocked. That she was just overreacting, reading too much into it. That all of her fears were just paranoia. She wanted to believe that.

And that's why she couldn't.

Focus on what you have seen in the past days, not on what you want to see! The way she acted after her dream. Her behavior with Isabela. The way she ignored you.

Her own words had been harsh. And she did not truly believe that it had all been a set-up. However, there was the other explanation: The dream was real – and it had changed Leliana, without a doubt. Maybe it was just a coincidence that they had met Isabela. In all likelihood the pirate was just a fling from before the two of them had gotten together, a one-night-stand in the Pearl.

Still: It did signify the end, did it not? Witnessing how Leliana behaved towards that woman had raised the question what would stop her from doing the same (and more) with someone else once their ways parted again? Naturally, Morrigan could not accompany her back to Val Royeaux, so there was bound to be a 'next time'. Long months that Leliana would spend alone, far away from her. And with that dream and its clear implications in her head, Morrigan had no illusions how it would end sooner or later.

Sooner or later she would realize that you are too much of a liability for an agent of the Divine.

Yes, the forbidden fruit tasted oh so sweet and it was an adventure to Leliana's liking. But in the end she would have grown bored of playing hide-and-seek – or afraid that the dream would come true.

And as she came closer to the city gates and as her breath calmed down she realized the bitter truth: their relationship had been doomed either way. Whether it was a conspiracy or a true nightmare that had planted the seed of doubt in Leliana's head: either their romance had died a quick death here in Kirkwall or a long and painful death once they were separated. The outcome was inevitable. She was doomed to fail in this.

Just like I have been told.

It was the same thing as with the sparrow, some twenty years ago: For weeks it had been there, waiting for her like an actual friend. She had been so sure that it was the exception to Mother's rules, that somehow she could make it work, forming a bond with someone else. But then it had failed her. And taught her a lesson. Ironically, it was another bird that had just shown her that she had better learned it by heart back then.

Trust no one.

And once again Mother was right.

All the teachings, all the painful lessons of how she could never have a friend (or something more) because it was impossible for a witch, all the tears, all the loneliness – Mother was a cruel and vile creature…but she was also right.

And now I even call her 'Mother' again.

She had stopped doing that after Flemeth's betrayal and after finding out the truth about her nature. She had tried to sever all bonds by refusing to acknowledge any connection between them. Leliana had spoken against that. She had told her that trying to deny the past wasn't going to help to deal with it.

But fuck Leliana, right? Shit on her pathetic little words and lies!

That was a surprisingly intense outburst, but Morrigan could see what was happening: she was readying her old armor again – putting on the cloak of cold, merciless distance, disdain and misanthropy. It was an ugly cloak, yet it did protect her. It always had.

And it drives the cloud away.

She took a deep breath, no longer threatened by fear, no longer caring at all. The city gates lay before her. A step out of this damn hole – out of everything. The foolish elven girl was waiting, smiling nervously and looking stupid by that.

"Let us go," were the last words Morrigan spoke for the next few hours.