Fools make plans before they know the trail they set upon. These fools assume, if they stay the course trodden by the history of those who came before, and practice the repetition of the words and deeds of these past 'successes'... all will be as they will. Fools trust in their inevitable success before they trod the path they have not walked because they feel they have the skill to reach their destination unchanged, and that there is no challenge they cannot face, since they have yet to face one they cannot overcome, and cannot imagine anything that could thwart them: there is a word for it, arrogance; there is one more apt however, and it is ignorance; and there is a place for it, it is called Tevinter... but that is a tale for another time.
She had plans, well, her mother had plans that she had coached her into seeing through for their 'shared' greater glory. She herself, not her mother, had picked him, lusted him as a beautiful body, a good breeder; she even, almost, felt sorry for him for how he would be so manipulated for nothing more than his seed. Now she felt a little sorry for herself; she was starting to feel less elated about the day she would part company with her pretty pony Aeden... Aeden, Aeden, the name was starting to work its way into her daily vocabulary - not entirely unpleasantly either, as were her thoughts of the breeder - no - the man; and yet a man unlike any she had known before. She was starting to regret her choice; not because he was wrong for her, just the opposite, he was in so many achingly, wonderful painful ways, so right.
He was a peerless predator, like she as a wolf, a fact the creatures and fools they faced this day in the doomed town of Lothering were learning too late. She loved to watch him kill, watch the blood drip from his magnificent armored frame, the gleam in his almost white blue eyes (how hot must passion burn for the soul to to be lit that bright?). He was channeling a powerful rage through his body, and it was hypnotic to behold. These unfortunate creatures were but a momentary balm to a greater pain that only one foes death would begin to abate. How she longed to see that day. For now... all else were insects to crush.
The largest of the giant spiders to attack her Aeden, the third one, almost backed away from him, but then it also lunged; He moved so cat-like; as it hit the ground, he dodged, spun the blade in his hand, brought it back, over, and down onto the stupid arachnids astonished, and soon, severed head. He was magnificent: his blood lust, his speed, his prowess in battle, even with these unremarkable foes, was mesmerizing, and made her more than a little wanton.
He was all she could want in a man... if she had not made other plans for him. She needed to keep herself free of any emotional entanglements. Love was not an option in her plan. It would simply have to be ignored. Easier said than done in this case.
She found herself hopelessly drawn to his side for all manner of reasons besides his physical attractiveness: his conversation, for one, was engaging; intelligent, without being too wordy; brilliantly witty at times; he was flattering to her abilities, without being condescending about her inexperience with polite societal norms such as handshaking. All this he conveyed in both word and action, and yet was not too obvious in his growing attraction... or was it her's? She was becoming more and more intent on being around him. Not simply for protection, but simply because she wanted to be. She tried talking to the others; including their two new party members: the delusional bard Leliana, and the Kunari killer they had freed from the chantry cage he all but put himself in out of shame. Tried as she could... it was no use, HE was just so magnetic to her. It was maddening. HE was supposed to be this way to her! She tried harder to break this growing NEED. She tried drastic measures, even being in the presence of Alistair, the former Templar; but aside from being a former templar he was a dullard, and well, he just wasn't... him.
She was almost convinced she could get herself free of this growing need... and then he kissed her, and ended all her efforts to even trying to resist it.
He had stepped to her, and closed ranks as if her lips were his to claim at whim.
She had put up a front, a paper tiger to the fire that warmed her, issuing from his blue eyes: "What kind of conversation are you looking for... coming in so closely?"
"Humor me," he responded in that gruff, confident fashion he had that she was so easily baited by.
"Oh, so it's humor you seek, I didn't know comedy had anything to do with this?"
And he sealed the deal in his indelible style, and lit her with his arrogant charm one last time before passion consumed them both, "Only if we do it wrong."
"How true," she sighed as she wrapped her arms around his armored hips, "Then let us do it right then."
Plans are what get shattered when you kiss the right one's lips. She wanted more from life now as she lingered in his arms for the first of countless embraces, more than what her mother wanted her to have of it.
His fingers touched her face with the softness of breath and caressed her raven hair like rain from the heaven.
She pressed her body to his as his lips softly stroked, and sucked her own, and smiled as his tongue tickled her's playfully.
He sighed just so, and all but brought her to tears as he moaned it... her name, "Morrigan."
She gasped. It was sighed, a whisper, a single, soft whisper in her ear as he tasted it ever so gently; but she wanted to hear it again, and again, and again, and again; and only from his lips. She held him tighter as he moved his mouth down her long, slender neck, repeating it till she sighed softly for its every utterance, and the magic it awoke in her body, the flutter it erupted in her heart. Love had began to sink itself slowly into her, like sweet venom she would never want extracted, but knew would burn her heart one day to the point she cursed its beating.