Chapter 8

Amelia froze for a moment. She knew that this was a possible threat. On the other hand, it could be another grey warden, out to play a trick on the rookies. She slowly turned to see a most unusual woman standing on the remains of a landing held up by a few decrepit stairs.

She had ebony hair, tied roughly into some sort of imitation of a bun. Her golden eyes burned brightly through the darkness that surrounded them. She wore a tattered black skirt that sat loosely below the burgundy sash that hung around her neck and chest. A few strings of what could be a brassiere of sorts criss-crossed across her chest, straining to cover its region. Her neck was concealed beneath several large, gold necklaces, which complimented the large gold bangles decorating her arms. A small plume of teal feathers pushed from the shoulder-plate that held a long black sleeve on her right arm. In one of her gloved hands she held a large muddied staff, and on her face she wore a mischievous and dark leer.

"Are you a vulture I wonder?" She cooed, "A scavenger? Poking amidst a corpse whose bones have been long since cleaned?" The woman then began walking towards the group, one hand loosely placed upon the railing of the steps. "Or merely an intruder?" She continued, "Come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"

She soon came face to face with Amelia, searching and analysing every inch of her. "What do say you, hmm?" She queried. "Scavenger or intruder?"

Though Amelia felt that this woman was clearly strong in mind and body (much like herself, at least in her mind) Amelia never liked being told what to do, nor did she like being treated like a stranger's subordinate. Her brows furrowed as she kept the ever more awkward eye-contact.

"Listen lady, I'm not intruding 'cause this tower is a Grey Warden tower. If anything, YOU'RE the intruder here, not me." She huffed.

"Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this desecrated corpse." With this, the woman began to stalk around the wardens, ensuring to never lose the steady eye contact. "I have watched your progress for some time. Where do they go, I wondered. Why are they here?" Finally turning from them to look out over the forest, she paused briefly. "And now, you disturb ashes none have disturbed for so long…" then, turning back around once more, she met their gazes with a frighteningly inquisitive look. "Why is that?"

Before Amelia could even open her mouth, Alistair took a step forward, placing his arm in front of her and slowly shaking his head as he spoke. "Don't answer her. She looks chaisend, and that means others may be nearby-"

"ooo~ooh" The woman called as she waved her hands mockingly over her head, "You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes… swooping is bad."

"S-she's a witch of the wilds, she is!" Daveth finally sputtered out, "She'll turn us all into toads!"

"Witch of the wilds?" She purred, "Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?" With a look of utter terror, Daveth tore his eyes from the stranger and instead directed them at his feet.

She snorted, rolled her eyes and came back to focus on Amelia, who was still scowling up a silent storm.

"You there." She spoke, softer than she had up until this point. "Women do not frighten like little boys. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

Though, until this point, Amelia had one hundred and one ways of telling this woman to go away – most of which were filled with various profanities – she had been strictly told by the carers at the orphanage and then by the Gallaghers at the hotel to always be polite. Especially when greeting someone for the first time. Without a second thought, manners overtook her. "I'm Amelia. Pleased to meet you."

The woman seemed taken aback by the sudden formalities and couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Now that is a civil greeting, even here in the wilds!" Her face shifted to the new found gentleness of her voice. "You may call me Morrigan." For a moment, if brief, the pair politely smiled before the atmosphere was forced back to its previous state.

"Shall I guess your purpose?" Morrigan asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "You sought something in that chest? Something that is here no longer?"

"Here no longer?!" Alistair spat, "You stole them didn't you?! You're some kind of… sneaky… witch… thief!"

"How very eloquent," She teased, "but how does one steal from dead men?"

"Quite easily, it seems." Alistair growled, passing a quick look to the recruits in his care before stepping forward. "Those documents were Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them."

Morrigan's nose wrinkled with a scowl, "I will not! For t'was not I who removed them!"

Amelia placed her hand over her face. It slowly dragged its way down, violently falling off her chin as the pair continued to bicker. This was getting them nowhere.

"Hey!" She cut in, receiving surprised looks from both parties, "Uhh, Morrigan, was it? Do you know who did take this junk?"

"Oh. T'was my mother, in fact."

"Can you take us to her?" She asked, as the rest of her party seemed to ask 'what are you doing?!' in a collective gasp. Morrigan raised an eyebrow before smirking again. "Now there is a sensible request! Hmm, I like you." She chuckled.

"Careful," Alistair whispered softly in Amelia's ear, causing her to almost shudder and punch at the same time. "first it's 'I like you!', then ZAP. Frog time."

"She'll put us all in the pot she will!" Daveth joined in Amelia's other ear. "Just you watch!"

Sir Jory joined over Daveth's shoulder. "If the pot's warmer than this forest, it'll be a nice change!"

Amelia, growing tiered of the three full grown men clinging to her arms, angrily shook free, taking a step forward and nodding to Morrigan. "If you could, I would be grateful."

Morrigan shrugged, "Follow me then, if it pleases you."