Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.
Summary: A City-Elf/Bann Teagan collection of drabbles and one-shots based on a prompt table from an LJ-community. These will be more or less in chronological order with the faintest traces of added plot here and there. Will vary from drabble length to one-shot.
Author's note: Because she has been in the background far too much time and I do adore her :x This is a simple, short chapter as I need a pause from overly emotional chapters. And, as I had a review focussing on this matter, I'll address the matter here. This story focuses especially on development, on friendship which evolves into something else. And while Tasha and Teagan are supposed to be in the majority of them, I cannot tell a story without everyone else. I can't focus just on the couple. So yes, this is an extremely slow paced romance story. I am sorry if it seems to drag itself at times. That said, I do hope people enjoy it nevertheless :) Holy, past forty chapters already.
In this chapter: She doesn't like them, she doesn't care about them, she won't miss them. Period.
041.
"It is brooding."
"Excuse me?"
"It is brooding. I was not sure until it started sharpening its sword for the countless time. It might be intelligent to damage a weapon by sheer will to keep it in top condition but I cannot reach that sort of wisdom, it seems. Will it lose precious time on pointless tasks until it stops breathing or will the group keep going?"
"…"
"It should quit staring at me either. While it is understandable to do so, it is rather unproductive."
"Are you worried?"
"This conversation is also unproductive."
"If it does not stop trying to use me as a latrine, it will be kicked across the continent."
Whine.
"Yes. I thought so too."
"So you cannot allow me some time to experiment?"
"The last time a mage experimented on me, it ended up dead and I as a statue for thirty years. No."
"It could even be possible for me to further increase your abilities. Just the slightest tweaking."
"Might end with the swamp witch's back broken in several places. No."
"'Tis your loss."
"Indeed."
"It is tainted, is it not?"
"Tainted? Ah, the blood. Yes."
"Does the blood cause brooding? Or is it a characteristic necessary for its survival?"
"What are you speaking of?"
"The four grey. Equally stupid and foolhardy."
"I think the worst insult you have said was to compare me with any of the others."
"Why did you become a large tall but extremely good looking hunk of stone?"
"The painted elf should know by now that I have no memory."
"Not even from your taigh, is it? The place we visited. All those ruins, nothing jostled the mind?"
"No. What about its past?"
"Are you interested in me?"
"No. I am able to leave while it rambles about whores."
"The clown noble should not be here."
"I would prefer if you used my name, Shale."
"I am sure. The small Warden is to that side. It broods less when someone makes it speak. I am not bothering making it speak. Too many small words and too little sense. I would like, however, to cross the Castle without being faced with mope eyed, grouchy small meat mounds."
"Ah…you have my thanks."
"Don't mention it. Really, don't mention it."
"Kadan. Is there a problem?"
"Several."
"Hm. Besides everyone else in this camp?"
"None whatsoever."
"We will leave tomorrow for Denerim."
"Oh. Yay."
"You could look slightly more worried, Shale. All of us will be risking our lives."
"I will be worried if its impending death is contagious. Otherwise, someone needs to be doing something else than shaking. Isn't it glad for my existence?"
"It seems as if the dwarves are bothering you, Shale."
"Bar its ability to stare at me, attempt to take pieces for mementos and wonder just who has the rod so they can slip it into their backpacks when no one is noticing? I simply adore them."
"Ah. That would be problematic. But they are your kind. Perhaps you might find something to speak about? That doesn't involve damaging you. It might make you feel closer to them?"
"Damaging them sounds far more likely. And interesting."
"That is not what I meant."
"The sister's suggestion lacked a silver lining. Or would that be a red one?"
The one thing Shale knows about herself – bar her ability to keep this party from becoming a walking wreak – is how she won't miss any of them once they die. Because they will die. And she won't miss them. Not a bit.
Of course.