It took about fifteen minutes for Morrigan to return to her suite of chambers, and her son's room.
As she stepped through the door, the set of her shoulders indicating her level of dudgon had not noticeably reduced, Eragon smelt smoke on her robes. Lots of it.
"Love..." He began.
"Is Kieran recovering?" Morrigan asked, her tone almost manic.
"He's going to be fine." He reassured her, gently. "Why do your robes smell of smoke?"
"I... found the Bard." She confessed.
"Morrigan..." He said, nervously. "What did you do?"
"I gave her a reminder as to why she should consider my family inviolate to her pollution."
"Was it a lesson she will remember?"
"Fear not, my husband, the Bard still draws breath."
"How barely?" He asked, knowing exactly what his wife was capable of. "And for how long?"
"Husband, I have not done anything that may prevent her drawing breath, provided that she shows the base wisdom to remember her commitments."
"Why do your robes smell of smoke?" He asked, sceptically.
"We had a disagreement in the chantry. She was hiding in a small booth, surrounded by curtains and wicker framing. I attempted to send her to her Maker in the manner of his bride. He must surely have tired of the woman by now. The Bard would have made a fine replacement."
"You set fire to the confessional?"
"Tis that the things name? I saw little use for it, other than firewood." She said. "Why, was it valuable?"
"If you'd been raised devoutly as an Andrastan, you'd have spent many a long hour kneeling before a priest, telling them about your sexual fantasies." He said with a grin. Morrigan grimaced.
"Are your priests voyeurs, then, that they desire such knowledge?" Morrigan asked.
"Fornication is a sin before the Maker." He quoted. "Our confessor was not much older than you, with blond hair, blue eyes, and significant endowments. It took her about fifteen minutes to realise that she was on the table. After I described exactly what I wanted to do with her, she seemed to almost completely stop trying to get me to confession."
"Tis surprising. Twould have made greater sense for her to accept such a generous offer."
"It involved the family dungeon."
"Still. She would not have gone away dispirited, I am sure."
"She lacked what I love about you." He said, grinning. "Taking advantage of her uncertainty about her own body was a sport, more than anything else."
"I trust, husband, that you have no such belief in me suffering from uncertainties about my body?"
"I don't."
"My mother did her best to foster such feelings. Anything that would have made me easier to control." The witch grimaced. "Sometimes, her tests were designed to be two things: challenging, or lethal."
"Give me an example?"
-0#0-0#0-
"Are you sure you are comfortable?" Morrigan heard, as the somewhat desirable looking chasind boy knelt over the top of her, secured at all four corners of her body to stakes driven into the ground by short ropes, leaving her unable to move.
"I am perfectly comfortable, now all of the intervening garments are clear of my skin." She replied, allowing a certain amount of asperity to creep into her tone. "Is the view to your satisfaction?"
She received a blush and a grin in reply.
"Come now, chasind. I'm sure that you are quite keen to taste your reward for catching the eye of a witch of the wilds."
The chasind knelt, gently stroking her, before suddenly stiffening in agony.
"Mother?!" Morrigan asked.
"Tell me, child, what the purpose of this boy was? Answer truthfully, and he will live."
"I wanted him, mother." She replied, struggling to try and dislodge the stakes she was tied spread-eagle to. "I merely desired his abilities for a few hours."
"And the ropes and stakes? You are not practicing for what will happen to you if you are found by the Templars, by any chance?"
"I wanted to surrender control, mother, just the once."
"That is a sign of weakness, daughter. Maybe I should slay the boy for bearing witness." Flemeth growled. "Or maybe a more fitting punishment is in order."
Morrigan felt very nervous as Flemeth seemed to ponder.
"I think that the best punishment is for you to get what you wanted." Flemeth said. Critically, the old witch inspected the ropes and stakes securing her daughter. "You wouldn't have stayed like this more than twice." She said critically, before raising her hand, looking at the bushes around the small hollow. Then she muttered an incantation.
Nothing seemed to happen.
Then, a few moments later, the ground began to move beneath her.
Within a minute, all four of her limbs were bound in place, gripped firmly by the heavy roots of the large oak overhanging the secluded hollow. The young witch tried to free herself, but her wrists and ankles might as well have been set in granite. When all of the roots were in place, they moved outwards, ensuring that they were drawn as tightly as possible apart.
Then there was a final humiliation. A root rose on one side of her head, crossing over her mouth, into which it extended a wide, bulbous taproot, almost completely filling her mouth with the protrusion.
She was given about a minute to realise her full situation.
Then her mother made a sequence of hand movements she knew to be capable of launching a orgy in a chantry full of reverend mothers. The boy, however, was the only person she was looking at.
"I'll be back in a day or so, daughter, once this one has run out of vigour. We will see if you have learnt your lesson."
Morrigan stared back at her, before her chosen toy blocked off her view of anyone else.
Maker. help me! She prayed, silently, some instinct driving her to offer the plea to a Deity she had never believed in.
-0#0-0#0-
"She subjected her own daughter to..."
"She did. He was young and had very good stamina. He was... still going... the next day. Twas not entirely unpleasant, although my memories of that day are very hazy."
"What did she do?"
"She handed him a purse of gold for lasting so long, and sent him back to his village. Then she told me the incarnation to free myself, and left me there..."
"With the root still immobilising your jaw."
"She knew I wouldn't be able to give up. It taught me how to cast a manipulation spell non-verbally."
"And if you had failed?"
"I dare posit that my moss-covered bones would be lying in that hollow today, still held in place by those roots. She would not have returned to save my life."
Gently, he kissed her, lifting up her jaw, and just holding her close enough to feel his heart beating.
"I would never do anything like that to you."
"The roots, or leaving my life in danger?"
"The leaving you to die." He replied, with a lupine grin on his face.
"Twas... hmm... restful, in the end. In Orlais, I did experiment, just a little. I found a male who was willing to bed Empress Celene's magical advisor in that way. Took a fair while."
"Am I going to need to duel him?" Eragon almost growled, watching the coy smile she produced.
"Tis not a necessity. He knew nothing, and it was largely a ploy to suggest my promiscuity, hence explaining Kieran. Twas not an affair of the heart."
The Warden just looked at her.
"You are trying to convince me that your travels never featured the bed of a tavern whore?" She asked, keeping her tone light and teasing. "Tis not only right that you relax once in a while, I would expect no less. You were always the better warrior after a busy night."
Reluctantly, he gave up pretending.
"Our vows did not feature any exclusivity clause." He said with a smile, leaning over to kiss her. "There were a couple."
"I am glad that you remember that point. Husbands are renowned for losing their memory of the finer points of their vows." She replied, looping her arms around his neck and shoulders, and pulling him close.
"Does that include the clause to make love to their wife at every chance?" He said, his voice more masculine than usual.
"I think that clause to be extremely important." She said, grinning, as he scooped her off of her feet and carried her to their bedchamber.
-0#0-0#0-
Being a fully manned and operational fortress, the breakfast service at Skyhold started before the sun rose.
Warden-commander Cousland, ensconced in the main layers of his armour, scooped a mouthful of scrambled egg onto his fork, accompanying the slice of sausage he'd already impaled. Next to him, Inquisitor Lavallan ate her own travelling breakfast.
Kieran was still asleep, as far as he and Morrigan were aware. Leliana had accepted responsibility for the fire in the chantry, blaming the melted candle for the blaze, and claiming that she'd fallen asleep while praying. The fact that she was still alive was credited to Morrigan and Giselle.
"Warden?" He heard the Inquisitor ask, around the remnants of a mouthful of potato. "What are your plans for when we arrive in Val Royeaux?"
He chewed the remains of a mouthful of sausage and egg, before making his reply. "If your "Blackwall" shows up, I'm going to have words with him. As for Mornay, we'll see. I can always use more Wardens, if they survive the joining."
"If they survive?"
"The joining is what makes a Warden. I was the only survivor of my joining. We drink a potion, and then either live or die. Usually, there is a coma for a few hours."
"Usually?"
"One of the first Wardens I inducted, Oghren, drank the potion, burped, then commented on the taste. He was a dwarven drunk." He smiled. "Also, the main selection of the Fereldan wardens for diplomatic missions we don't want."
"So... becoming a warden is dangerous?" She asked, trying to confirm the information. "We have a man in the dungeons who we've remanded to the order."
"If you can keep him there until we return to Skyhold, we'll put all three through the joining."
Then the pair got to work on their breakfasts.
-0#0-0#0-
About an hour later, the rescue party departed from Skyhold. The Inquisitor was joined by Vivienne, for her connections in the Orlesian capital, with Cassandra for reinforcements and the Seekers. Rather than bring another of her team, she'd simply substituted one rider for the Warden.
Morrigan was waiting by the gates.
"Were you planning on sneaking out with the dawn?" She asked her husband.
"Not at all." He replied, chuckling. "We needed to make an early start to reach Val Royeaux in time."
"Tis good you remember the priorities of your life." Morrigan commented. "Twould be a shame to return to an empty nest."
"Keep an eye on Kieran for me." He said. "And don't make a souffle of Leliana while I'm gone."
"If she gives me no reason to do anything, she will not come to any harm. Else, twould be telling."
"See you in a few days." He said, smiling.
"I'll be waiting." She replied, clambering up onto a stirrup to be kissed.
After a few moments, they separated, and the party trotted their horses out of the gate, the be-pennoned lance of the Warden leading the way.
-0#0-0#0-
Three hours from Skyhold, as the small party dismounted to lead their horses across a narrow bridge, a force of red templars came sprinting out of the gorge on both sides of the bridge. Cassandra and the Inquisitor locked shields, meeting the rush of warriors with braced feet, and support from Vivienne.
As the templar charge arrived, both women took a step back, robbing the charging men of their impact, leaving their weapons to strike air rather than armour or braced shields. Then the two attacked, stepping apart as a volley of flame tore into the attacking swordsman, before lunging forwards.
The Inquisitor met her first opponent with a quick slash to the side of his neck, her sword glancing off of the mail neckguard, before parrying his return cut at her with the flat of her blade. The rest of her fight was a savage clash, moving more by instinct than conscious thought, felling three Templars, while Cassandra held open her flank, the Seeker cutting down four of the men, while four more fell to blazes of fire and the slashes of a spirit blade against Vivienne.
Then they realised that the Warden had been at the other end of the bridge.
Moving like a rogue, rather than a knight in a full suit of plate armour, the warden had seven of his attackers at his feet, two of them moving. As she watched, he brought his blade around with fell intent, the volcanic aurum blade cleaving through the swordarm of one of his remaining attackers, before a backhand slash sent the blade tip across the man's throat, jetting blood into the visor of the last remaining templar. Then the Warden brought his blade across, cleanly bisecting the man's neck, sending both men to the floor within a few heartbeats of one another, one with a slashed throat, the other decapitated.
The sight of the Warden suddenly wiping his blade, using a rag pulled from a small case on his scabbard, was almost as alarming as the clear ease with which he'd single-handedly felled nine Templars. He wasn't even breathing heavily.
A short distance away, she saw another templar. The corrupted warrior had a lance sticking out of his visor.
"I didn't throw it. He led the attack, and met my lance coming the other way." He told her, opening his visor after satisfying himself that there were no further threats.
"Impressive." She replied.
"I've had practice." He said. "Darkspawn tend towards pack hunting. As a warden, you are usually what they are aiming for in combat, so surviving large packs of the them becomes second nature."
"Warden..." Cassandra breathed. "I'd heard the tales of Denerim and Amaranthine, but..."
"Those were ten years ago."
"I... never understood just what a warden could do, even from the accounts. Seeing the consequences of one true warden fighting in earnest... it brings home why a blight is such a threat."
"If you don't remember the blight, you are lucky." He told the seeker. "It was the most terrifying time in my life, and the most violent. I've explored five thaigs in the deep roads believed lost forever to the darkspawn, at the head of a troop of wardens and the legion of the dead. That was almost relaxing compared to the fifth blight."
"It was that horrific?" She asked.
"Worse. If you've ever wondered why Leliana has nightmares, or why King Alistair has a reputation as a heavy drinker, the reason is the blight." He told her. "My sleep is never deep, but when I am travelling, I cannot sleep through the slightest noise."
"How does it affect Morrigan?"
"She doesn't have the same reactions, but she never lets the fire go out if she is camping with me and Kieran. The number of small animals surrounding our campsite always decreases overnight."
Then the group clambered onto their horses, now safely across the bridge, and continued riding for Val Royeaux.
Author's note: I have no idea where the discussion on monogamy and adultery in the middle of this chapter came from, and I was actually quite surprised when I read it. I do not advocate any form of infidelity, and would like to apologise for the behaviour of the characters. I'd also like to thank The Invisible Pretender for his review of the last chapter.