Just an odd little thought I had while adjusting the (totally unnecessary) eyeshadow slider. A bit of a girlie segment (not going to make a habit of that) here, but it does tie in with the bigger plot and with the Tower. The naivety the mages would have from being locked where they were all their life just... got stuck in my head, somehow, and combining that with female friendship ended up with this.
War Paint
Leliana
Leliana watches with a mix of amusement and horror as Morgana turns the small box from Denerim over in her hands, frowning, cautiously opening it to sniff at the lilac powder.
When she explains what it is, the other woman looks to her; is she imagining it, or is their practical swordswoman wide-eyed? "We were never allowed in the Tower... I... I don't know how..."
"Never?"
Morgana looks slightly sheepish as she shakes her head, a blush colouring her cheeks.
"At all?"
Another shake of the head, a mouth opened to protest, but Leliana interrupts, a smile on her face.
"Well, we'll have to change that, won't we?"
She applies it carefully, still a little surprised at how very young their fearless leader seems in fear and firelight.
She holds the brush aside, despairing at how quickly horsehair has to be replaced, as she looks at the woman in front of her, who is wearing an expression of... terror, for lack of a better word.
She is also now wearing expertly applied lilac eyeshadow.
Leliana smiles, satisfied, leaning back to admire her handiwork. "I knew it would bring out your eyes."
Still looking distinctly panicked, Morgana accepts the little silver looking-glass. "We were never allowed... this... at the Tower. The templars, they said vanity was a sin, that mages shouldn't self-worship when there was the Maker."
The question is quiet, cautious. "And do you believe that?"
Morgana takes one last look at herself, then meets her eye, and smiles. "... No." The word sounds breathless, almost amazed. An epiphany, Leliana realises.
She cannot help but watch the two Wardens, watch Alistair's stare as Morgana sits by the fire.
"What?" Morgana says jumpily, clearly still self-conscious. "Do I have something on my face?"
Leliana struggles not to laugh as he cringes. "Well... yes, actually, you do."
She doesn't know what she expects - anger, silence, Morgana stalking to her tent? Instead, she simply smiles, crouching to scratch Brian behind the ears, and says, "Think of it as... war paint."
For once, Alistair has nothing to say.