'Falling in love'; she often wondered if they called it thus because of when it ends - the impact of it breaks the heart.
(WHERE IS HE?!) she dropped to her knees, his mirror in her grip, herself out of sight of the camp, the others, in the depths of the forest abutting a Dahlish encampment. She clutched at her heart as it pounded in her chest. She stared with red, pleading eyes at her cold, iron ring. She was haunted by the last night she made love to him.
She told him of her mothers plans to take possession of her body, talked him into killing the old crone NOW, before he was ready to face her, for her. (FOOLISH MAN! WHY DID YOU NOT DENY ME - MY LOVE?! I WOULD HAVE BARTERED FOR DAYS IN YOUR ARMS!) Not her Aeden...
the next night he took the dwarf, the bard, and the Kunari to kill Flemeth... that was almost two weeks ago.
(YOU KILLED HIM!) She glared at her reflection, the force of her self-hatred almost enough to shatter the mirror.(What is love if the one you love sacrifices himself in its name?) She shook from the force of her emotion, finally overwhelming her control; she flung the mirror away from herself, to be rid of her own face, and screamed into the open sky, "ARE YOU MORE THAN A FRAUD?! YOU WHO HE WORSHIPPED? YOU WHO GAVE ME THIS... EMOTION? FILLED ME WITH IT! LOOK WHAT I'VE DONE WITH IT!" she sobbed, "HE IS DEAD! MY HEART IS DEAD INSIDE ME... ALL FOR MY SELFISH WHIM! NOW SHOW ME YOUR VAUNTED MERCY IN IT'S NAME! EITHER GIVE HIM BACK TO ME... OR TAKE ME, SO WE MAY BE REUNITED IN DEATH! I AWAIT YOUR DECISION IN THE SILENCE YOU ANSWER ALL YOUR 'CHILDREN'!"
From the edge of the forest, a Dahlish archer, a female, stood watching.
Morrigan turned and looked upon her, drying her eyes, recovering her composure, "That is rude to spy." She hissed.
The woman stared at her, her eyes sad, "I did the same thing three nights ago. Our gods have also not granted me my wish. They did however 'return' him to me... as a werewolf. I was able to grant him peace. I, however, have found none since."
Morrigan walked past her, "I would accept the wolf, if it was him. But I understand your actions, your compassion... HE taught me that. You have my sympathies, what they are worth."
"I will keep your secret. They are looking for you back at your camp."
Morrigan stared at the Elven woman's beautiful face and something in her felt a pang of true camaraderie (My lovely fellow fool, I do feel for your loss, I do feel for your lost love... but I cannot let this life go on. She is coming. I will leave her a cold, heartless corpse to replace the one she wishes to leave.)
The Elven Archer watched Morrigan walk off.
Morrigan glanced back, saw the elf look away, then transformed into a wolf and vanished into a secluded cove, and transformed back as she neared the clear water stream that ran between a thicket of tall, ancient trees, and withdrew the same dagger she had used to cut out the ring she gave her Aeden.
She held it by the hilt, and made to plunge it into her heart. She took one last gaze into the heavens and shook her head, "So much for you." She pressed the blade to her flesh, "Wait for me - my love." Then love answered.
Her skin suddenly flushed with a feeling of euphoria, her head swooned... the ring glowed brighter than the sun.
She dropped the blade.
"Thank you," she whispered to the sky as Aeden's hand caressed her cheek.
Aeden, oblivious to the fallen blade, smiled at her, "I was told you were here," he said with a gleam in his transcendently beautiful, trusting eyes, to match his smile, and gestured to the Elven Archer who simply looked at them with undisguised love.
Morrigan looked her in the eyes and made a vow, for this act of compassion for another woman, a stranger, a trespasser, she would show it back - a thousand times over if need be.
Aeden smiled at the two women, "Do you know each other?"
"We met before," the elf said with a smile.
"And will again," Morrigan sighed as she gripped Aeden around his thick muscled arm as if for life itself, "I owe her such a gift I cannot repay."
Aeden looked at the elf in astonishment, "Can I have some?"
"You have it already," the elf responded, "She is holding it for you."
Morrigan felt her heart flood with emotions so strong she was barely able to keep from weeping: compassion, from a stranger; mercy beyond measure from a god whose alleged followers she mocked. It was then she decided, this world was worth saving, not just from the blight... but from itself. No matter the cost to her.
She clutched his arm. (Please do not love me Aeden - we are the stuff of sad ballads my love... I've learned too well from you, and this wonderous journey.)
She would break her own heart to see this change come.