Epilogue

When Morrigan finally opened her eyes, she was almost blinded by the bright sunlight streaming into the room, an unusual sight to wake up to.

Is it that late already?

She was not really used to sleeping that long, but then again: it had been a long, long night.

For a brief moment, she nearly panicked as she noticed the complete absence of Leliana, but the traces of her lover's presence in the bed and in the room calmed her down.

'twas not a dream. It happened.

It was a soothing realization. So Leliana had just wandered off a bit. She did that occasionally.

It would have been too much to hope that her current condition would've made the girl any less vivid.

A yawn escaped her lips. It was a bit annoying, still feeling this tired, but she decided that staying in bed all day was not an option either.

Not without Leliana anyway. Where is that woman?

As she left the bed and strolled into the main hall, she noticed Merrill staring out of the big window. For a brief moment, she contemplated trying to sneak out without being seen by the elf, but she decided against it. That foolish girl had proven useful after all – irritating, yes, but useful. The very least she deserved was a polite greeting.

Possibly even a 'Thank you', but maybe I can avoid that.

She moved next to her, curious to see what the girl was so intensely looking at. It turned out to be a strange yet comforting sight, down there on the street: a group of children was running about, playing catch as if everything had come back to normality already. But much more bizarre than that was the fact that Leliana was among them, playing with them, evading once, twice, thrice as a little girl tried to 'catch' her, then making an astounded 'Oh no, now you got me'-face as the child succeeded in the fourth attempt – with a little help from the bard itself, who suddenly 'forgot' evading the fourth time.

For a moment Morrigan considered going out, telling her how foolish this was and that much more than anything else, Leliana needed rest, but seeing her like that – now racing after the kids rising her arm in a 'frightening' manner and making odd noises as the children ran away laughing – was just too surreal, too ridiculous...and, as she had to silently admit, too cute. The children shouting in joy while Leliana played the 'monster'... Well, she certainly had the looks at the moment, but oddly enough not a single child seemed to mind.

Her face is still bruised and swollen and yet they are not frightened of her. They trust her.

Morrigan wondered how it might be like. Being a child. Playing. Having fun with your friends. Having actual friends. It was a useless, pathetic longing, of course. Something that had not been meant for her.

"You missed story-time." Merrill's voice ripped her out of that line of thoughts.

"I missed...what?"

Merrill smiled. "Story-time. It was nice. She sat down there and everyone gathered around her when she told us a story." The girl blushed as she realized how she had just given away that she, too, had sat there, listening to a tale for children's (and, if Morrigan was not entirely mistaken, probably enjoying it). "I...remember this from the Clan," the girl stammered helplessly as if to apologize, "I did not know that shems did that, too. Sit around in a circle and telling stories, I mean."

"Some do." Morrigan simply stated, her glance returning to the unreal scene down there. Again she could not help but picturing herself as a child, sitting in a circle and listening to a story. But she could not make that image work either. In all likelihood, little Morrigan would have been a terrible listener – always pointing out the flaws and inconsistencies of the tales being told... "She does, anyway," she added dreamily.

"Your girlfriend has a beautiful voice." Merrill said.

Oh yes. That she has, Morrigan thought, but decided to not say it out loud. The memory of how that beautiful voice had told her another private tale last night – one that was decidedly not suitable for children – just threatened to make her redden now. She just nodded and tried to think of a way to change the subject.

"So, did you receive word of your boyfriend?"

It was a rough cut, but it did the trick.

"Not yet," Merrill replied sadly, "But Isabela is out to look for answers." Morrigan almost gave a sigh of relief. It was unfortunate that she, strictly speaking, owed that pirate woman an apology for her behavior...and the prospect of, with any chance, escaping that duty was intriguing.

"She says that she might have a way to contact him and tell him about my return." Merrill continued. "After all...after all, they all feared that I was dead because...," the lump in the girl's throat was almost palpable, "...because I wasn't there when...it all happened."

Morrigan wanted to ignore it. She wanted that awkward moment to pass by without being forced to say anything. But the memory of that feeling Merrill was experiencing right now – having failed someone you love by not being there in the time of need – was just too fresh to be ignored.

"I...I do apologize, Merrill," she managed. Not exactly her favourite mode of speaking, but she felt obliged to. The way the girl looked at her now did decisively not help. "You were very use...helpful. I apologize for taking you away that night. 'twas a foolish thing. Had I only waited for one day, everything would have been differently – and you would be with him now."

She wasn't too sure about the latter; after all she still held her doubts that this man Hawke was as much in love with the elf as wide-eyed Merrill wanted to believe, but she caught herself actually wishing the girl the best for her relationship.

You are growing soft, Morrigan. 'tis all Leliana's fault..

"Thank you," Merrill answered, immediately lowering her glance, obviously feeling awkward by the fact that the daughter of Asha'bellanar would apologize to her. "But it is not your fault. Nobody could know what would happen here."

Not unless you had a dream to warn you.

It was a bitter thought, carrying with it the stench of failure. Had she not been as self-obsessed as to misinterpret the dream as something concerning her, all of this would have played out differently.

She wasn't looking forward to the discussions with Leliana about that – discussions that would surely come. Of course Leliana would – more than ever – claim that it had been the Maker speaking to her and that He, of course, had saved her single-handedly in the chantry. The utter nonsense and lack of logic in all of that was something to be pointed out, of course...and something that her Beloved would, for sure, whole-heartedly ignore.

"Morrigan," Merrill's voice was careful, timid even. "What were you looking for? At Sundermount, I mean...if you don't mind me asking?" Her tone suggested that she was not sure if Morrigan would consider this a question or an affront.

For a moment she did consider telling her all about it. About the vague rumors that an ancient eluvian might have been found here, drawing her to this place.

She is Dalish after all. Depending on what has been her role in the clan before she was expelled, she might even know something about that.

It was something to contemplate. Maybe there was an odd chance that Merrill could help her. Maybe the whole thing would just stir her up, giving her false hope of discovering an ancient artefact.

"'twas nothing. Just a faint rumor," she replied instead. She would have to weigh the advantages and disadvantages first. "A cold trace."

Merrill nodded, a hint of disappointment on her face, most likely because she regretted not being any assistance. "We will leave," she said, suddenly. "Soon, I think. Isabela said that. That it wasn't safe here anymore for us."

The girl didn't look happy at the prospect. Morrigan wasn't sure whether by 'us' she meant 'mages' or 'friends of the man who destroyed the chantry'.

Probably both.

She nodded in agreement. Once the dust had cleared, templars would come. Or seekers. The chantry would send people to investigate and Merrill was right: It would not be safe.

"What will you do?" Merrill asked curiously, looking out of the window again. "You and her I mean."

It was a good question. They couldn't stay here, either, of course. And Leliana would need to go back to Val Royaux. This disaster at Kirkwall was bound to have consequences.

And I will go with her. Not openly, of course.

Morrigan had given this some thought. Even though Flemeth might not have been involved in this, the fact remained that she was out there, somewhere. Whether she would go after Morrigan or not, remained a mystery. But she could hardly believe that their paths would not cross sooner or later. And if – or more likely: when – Flemeth decided to make a move on her, Leliana was in even greater danger than by the mages and templars being at each other's throats.

I cannot allow her being all alone there. I need to be closer.

She had not figured out yet, how she would do it. The prospect of entering the Orlesian society was not exactly something to look forward to, but there had to be a way for a woman of her...abilities to find a place in there. Some noble looking for a mage to protect him- or herself against competitors in the Game perhaps? All very discreet, of course.

I will be close by, my love.

Her glance wandered back to the situation on the street, where Leliana was now laughingly 'struggling' with half a dozen children, who seemed to try to pull her in all directions at once. It was a strange sight – some kind of dance? Another game? Or just children fooling around? She really couldn't tell. And she couldn't care less.

Her eyes were fixed on the laughing woman in the middle. The woman who had gone through it all and still smiled.

Born in Ferelden, but taken away. Grew up as a servant in a foreign land. Betrayed by her lover. Thrown to the wolves for torture, pain and humiliation. Redeemed by –quite literally – a Divine intervention. Speaks with the Maker. It sent shivers down her spine as she noticed how oddly familiar this story sounded...

Interesting.

"She is...special, is she not?" Merrill asked.

Morrigan chuckled, not lifting her eyes from Leliana's face for even a moment.

"Oh, you have no idea," she said. And smiled.

END

Update: My good friend and fellow writer Magdelope felt inspired by this one and has created a beautiful 'add-on' to this, portraying the rest of the night taking place between chapter 5 and the epilogue. And, oh yes: that means smut...beautiful, lovely, yet tasteful smut! The glorious result can be read under the ff-link followed by s/10832339/1/What-they-deserve or by checking Magdelope's profile and searching for 'What they deserve' - you SHOULD check it out! Well, and the usual reminder: fanfic-writers are suckers for feedback... Just saying ;-)