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fenharelsfang · 2 months ago

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The Wolf's Heart (4/5)

Previously: The Wolf's Heart (3/5)

“This was a terrible idea!” Ellana shouted against the din of the wind gusting past them. Tears streamed from her eyes, even as she squinted to protect them.

Riding a dragon was absolutely not like riding a hart or halla. It wasn't even comparable to Tevinter's dracolisks, or nuggalopes. The closest would be a griffon, but no one had ridden one in hundreds of years. There was no saddle for the trio to sit on (and, honestly, Morrigan would have never allowed it anyway), so they positioned themselves in the valleys between the ridges of her scales and gripped onto anything solid that they could.

Felassan sat in the front, of course, whooping and hollering as soon as Morrigan took to the sky. Ellana sat in the middle and Cole sat just behind her. He held onto her tightly in fear, his face buried in her back. His hat had been lost immediately.

“She wants to eat us,” he cried. She has to remind herself that we're friends!”

“Cole, please!”

His insight wasn't making the experience any better.

Up they climbed, Morrigan's wings beating loudly against the sky and in their ears. The closer they flew to the Archon's palace, the worse the situation inside it looked. The walls and ceiling of the building had already crumbled away, the void that was Solas growing with each passing moment. Morrigan diverted her course past it, flying to the far side opposite the throne room.

Landing was about as comfortable as flying. The jolt of it threw Ellana against the ridge she was gripping and knocked the air from her lungs. No doubt she'd be bruised from all the recent trauma to her chest. When Morrigan settled, Ellana reached back to pat a trembling Cole's arm.

“It's okay, we've landed,” she assured him.

Cole peeked an eye open and sweet relief flooded through Ellana when he released his death grip on her. “... I did not like that.”

“That was incredible!” Felassan shouted, beaming back at them. His grin faltered at seeing the state they were in. He flew up with his hair tied, but the two blondes didn't. They looked like wild animals. Sickly wild animals.

Morrigan shifted underneath them and growled in annoyance. Clearly she wanted them off of her.

Felassan deftly hopped from ridge to ridge until he landed with a feline grace on the ground. Cole could just disappear and reappear wherever he wanted (and he did, Ellana noticed). She, however, gingerly tried to climb down using her hands and feet, only to slip and fall right into Felassan's arms.

“Careful, lethallan ,” he said. “You seem to have a bad habit of falling.”

“I could make a career out of it, really,” she muttered and blew a strand of hair out of her face. Memories of the times she fell out of the Fade, into the Fade, and off the rookery in Skyhold's tower made her cringe. That last instance hadn't been fun for anyone, especially Solas.

Felassan set her down and she ran her fingers through her hair to tame it. Morrigan shifted back to her human form and dusted herself off. “Oh, if Alistair could see me now,” she mused, smiling to herself. Becoming a dragon brought swooping to a whole new level.

“Thank you for not eating us,” Cole said, interrupting her reverie.

Morrigan smirked at him. “That's still undecided.”

Ellana lightly smacked her arm before fixing Cole's hair with the tenderness of a mother. “Don't listen to her. I won't let her eat you.”

“Inquisitor?”

The four of them turned to see Rook and the Veilguard emerging from behind some rubble. The Crow was pale, which said a lot for someone with bronze skin. He was shocked, they all were, since the last they saw of her she was falling to her death.

“How are you alive?” he asked.

Felassan held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “ Magic .”

Rook's nostrils flared. “Wh– Felassan? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“I got better.”

“Please ignore him,” Ellana said, pushing the elf out of the conversation. Felassan snickered behind her. “What's the situation up here?”

“We're fucked, that's what,” Taash said. “That big … ball of … whatever is destroying everything.”

“Plus, we still haven't taken down Elgarn'nan or his archdemon,” Bellara added. “They've been attacking that magical anomaly nonstop, but can't break through.”

“It. Smells. Wrong,” Spite hissed, his glowing pink eyes darting around as if he expected to be snatched up at any moment. ”It wants me to join, but I won’t!”

“That anomaly is Solas,” Ellana clarified.

Emmrich, who looked haggard and struggled to stand, nodded. “I figured as much,” he said, his voice strained. “Those are all spirits, each of them reflecting Solas's emotions, twisted into Despair. It's… too much.”

Manfred was holding Emmrich aloft and hissed sadly. He felt it, too.

So did Cole, who tried to drown out the noise by planting his palms against his ears.

“We have to stop this,” Davrin said. “I didn't think anything could be worse than the Blight, but this is.” His hand went to Assan's head, stroking it gently. The griffon cooed. “I didn't fight so hard for a future for the griffons only to have it taken away from them by our so-called gods.”

“What the hell happened?” Rook asked, his brown eyes searching Ellana's.

“It's my fault,” she admitted. “I got distracted and underestimated Elgar’nan. Solas thinks I'm dead and he's….struggling.”

“Okayyyy,” Taash said, “then go tell him you're alive so he'll calm down,” They shrugged.

“It's not that easy,” Neve argued. “He's been possessed, and not just by one demon, by hundreds … thousands! That would break anyone's mind.” Her gaze drifted downward, unwilling to look Ellana in the eyes. “I hate to say it, but we have no other option but to destroy him. It’s the only way to set him free.”

Ellana's eyes widened. As she looked around at the other Veilguard members, she could see that they were resigned to the same option. Why was it that, in times of great hardship, leaders immediately resorted to using peace as a justification for violence? Killing the host wasn’t the only way to combat a demon. She wondered what the team thought of Spite, then, and what both Lucanis and Spite thought about this decision. When the demon spoke earlier, no one seemed bothered by it, like Spite was just … part of the crew.

“I hate to throw a wrench in the plan,” Bellara interrupted, “but if Elgar’nan can't breach it, what makes you think we can?”

“We have his dagger,” Rook said, pulling it from its sheath. He ran his fingers along the flat part of the blade. “I can use it to carve a way in.” He looked at Ellana with true sympathy in his eyes. “I can make it quick, I promise.”

Felassan and Cole took up defensive positions. They came to save Solas, not kill him. If that meant they’d have to fight the Veilguard to protect him, then they would. Rook was baffled that Solas could command such loyalty from the people he wronged. He didn’t know the blonde boy, but he was probably also a victim of Solas’s treachery. Morrigan stood off to the side, strangely quiet during the entire exchange.

Ellana held up a hand to calm her friends. “You’re right, Rook,” she began as she stepped up to him. “This isn’t a fairytale. But love … isn’t a fantasy. It’s real . Like magic, it has both the power to heal and the power to harm, depending on the wielder. Long before me, Solas loved Mythal. Maybe she loved him, too, but it was toxic. She loved him the way nobles love their servants: for their usefulness. It may have started out innocently, back when they met in the Fade as spirits. In the end, though, it always came down to what he could do for her . Harding showed me those memories. From what you saw in those murals and what Mythal said to you herself when you met her, can’t you see the power imbalance? He gave up his home for her and changed everything about himself just to be with her. What did she ever do for him? There were multiple times that he tried to set boundaries, bringing up how certain requests from her made him uncomfortable, that what she was asking of him felt wrong. She didn’t listen. Instead, she used his love for her to control him. That was his life, Rook, until she finally crossed a line that he wouldn’t. Then she had the audacity to blame him for their fallout. You don’t treat someone you love that way. You don’t make them change to suit your needs, you embrace who they are and work to grow together. You don’t coerce them to do something they don’t want to do, you respect their boundaries. Mythal turned her love into a whetstone to sharpen Solas into a weapon. The Dread Wolf is cunning and treacherous and prideful. All of that is true, but they were learned behaviors from someone he deeply revered. No one ever showed him a different way.” Ellana hadn’t realized how much she was shaking. It hurt when she watched those memories. He had been such a gentle, sweet spirit until Mythal twisted him against his nature. His reaction to when his spirit of Wisdom friend was summoned against its will made so much sense in retrospect.

“Until he met you,” Rook said, continuing her thought.

She wiped tears from her eyes and smiled sadly at him. “He seemed so sad and lonely when I first met him. He kept to himself and said little when I tried to engage in conversation with him. It wasn’t until I asked about his experience with the Fade that he truly came alive. After that, I found any excuse I could to listen to his stories. We grew closer the more time we spent together and, through it all, he only ever treated me as an equal. As the ‘Herald of Andraste’ and the Inquisitor, I was a symbol to those around me, not a person, even to my inner circle. My role as leader set me apart from everyone. Looking back on that time, knowing what I know now, I realize he saw himself in me. He never asked to be a leader, either, but his people would be lost without him. ‘Solas’ was lost to the Dread Wolf. He didn’t want me to feel that pain. I was always Ellana to him and, later, vhenan .” She sighed. “He’s a wonderful person. I wish you could have known him when he was in the Inquisition. That’s the closest he was to his true self. You two would’ve been friends, I think.”

She took Rook's free hand in both of hers. “I love him, Rook, like I’ve never loved anyone before. Everyone keeps saying that he needs me, that I made him better, but the truth is I'm the one who needs him. I need him like I need air. He came into my life and changed everything I knew about the world, myself, and love. We are meant to be together. Beyond that, he deserves happiness. He deserves to know that he's worthy of being loved and that it's not too late to choose a different path. He deserves freedom. I deserve it, too, and only he can give it to me.”

She glanced at the dagger in his free hand. “So kill that archdemon and take out Elgar’nan. I’ll take care of Solas. And I promise, if I can’t get through to him, then I will end him myself.”

And I will follow wherever he goes.

Rook could see the conviction in her words and, though he still didn’t think Solas could change, the Inquisitor did deserve the chance to try. It was her happiness on the line, too. He couldn’t deny her that.

“... Alright,” he said, defeated. “I wish you luck.”

Ellana’s heart lightened and she let out a sob. “Thank you.”

He nodded and turned to his own crew. “We’ll need to split up,” he said. “Taash, you, Bellara, Emmrich and Davrin take the archdemon down. Lucanis, Neve, and I will keep Elgar’nan busy while you do so. With our combined efforts, we should be able t- hey!”

The lyrium dagger was suddenly snatched from his hand. Manfred’s pack vibrated at the same time before the idol of Mythal flew out. Morrigan grabbed them both from the air. Only, she wasn’t Morrigan anymore. The woman standing before them was an elf with long, dark hair, white mage robes, and a silverite crown. She was tall and breathtaking, staring down at them with an air of superiority. They all knew her face, in one way or another. Felassan knew her personally. He still bore her vallaslin .

“Mythal,” he breathed.

Ellana felt her chest tighten. Once upon a time, she wore the goddess’s markings, too. She worshipped her. Now her feelings were conflicted. Mythal wasn’t a perfect being and she was the source of all of Solas’s pain. The disappointment she felt was staggering.

“What have you done with Morrigan?” she asked, magic gathering around her ironbark gauntlet.

“Peace, da’len,” Mythal said. The lyrium idol of her had melded into her, giving her a solid form. Rook spotted the dagger, muscles tensing. “I will return her when I am finished.”

“Finished? Doing what?”

“I WILL HAVE MY RECKONING!” Her voice resounded across the heavens, bringing everyone to their knees. The vehemence in that statement was an ancient cry for vengeance against a terrible betrayal that left a goddess a shell of her former greatness. The mortals before her shuddered under the sheer force of it. Mythal stood in the center of them all, clutching the dagger as her eyes burned white with ire. “I have clawed and crawled my way through the ages to get me to this very moment! Over the centuries I have systematically destroyed every member of the Evanuris, guiding history in the path I desired.” “What are you saying?” Davrin asked through gritted teeth. “That you let the Blight out?”

“No, that was a failure on Solas’s part to destroy the Evanuris’ pets. It did present me with an opportunity, however. The First Blight had already begun when I bound myself to my first vessel. I did not have the power to physically enter the Fade to cut down those traitors and I was too weak to fight their archdemons on my own, but I had intimate knowledge about the Blight. The world needed a way to combat it and I needed the archdemon they called Dumat dead. So, I gave the mortals the means to defeat it.”

“The Joining.”

“Yes. I was the famed Nakiri of the Donarks who suggested drinking the blood of darkspawn to absorb their power and build immunity to their taint. The Order of the Grey Wardens was established and they turned the tide of the war. Dumat fell and my retribution began.”

Davrin’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t the Grey Wardens need the blood of the archdemon to defeat it?”

Mythal chuckled. “It was easy enough to stage a battle against the archdemon, if only to collect drops of its blood. Many Wardens fell in that battle. Through their sacrifice, came victory. The Blight itself was not destroyed, but the world had what it needed to survive.”

She began to walk through the crowd before her, their rapt attention fueling her ever forward. “Ages passed and I bided my time, passing from vessel to vessel, my power growing. Empires rose and fell, as did the archdemons. There were times history required a nudge. The First Blight had lasted far too long. So, during the Second, I introduced the Grey Wardens to the griffons. They weren’t utilized to their full potential until the Third Blight. It took time for the bond between griffon and rider to form, you see. Each subsequent Blight lasted a mere fraction of the one before it. The Fifth Blight lasted a mere year after I rescued the Hero of Ferelden from Loghain’s betrayal. Of course, June was always the weakest of us, so it’s no surprise to me that his archdemon fell so easily.”

All anyone could do was stare at her as she revealed the secrets of the past, mouths agape. She paused in front of Ellana who now stood up in defiance against her. Mythal smiled.

“There were only two members of the Evanuris remaining, among them Elgar’nan who ran me through with this very dagger. My retribution was nearly complete, but I couldn’t wait any longer for the centuries to pass and those mindless darkspawn to find their master. That, and I could sense the Veil weakening and with it, that prison. As powerful as I was, I was still no match for Elgar’nan’s strength. So, in secret, I woke Solas from his uthenara . I am the reason your paths crossed.” “And so you used him again,” Ellana whispered.

“He made his own choices,” Mythal argued. “Blame me if you must, but I never forced him to make the choices he did and I certainly had no sway on him when he awoke from his slumber. We are both at fault for the state of the world and while I spent what remained of my life trying to make up for our mistakes and save the world, he was sleeping. I knew he’d need to deal with the remaining Evanuris, but I didn’t know he would wish to tear down the Veil. This world is flawed, but it deserves to live. Over the years I have grown to love it and its people. Elvhenan, the Evanuris, it is better that it all fade from memory.” She gripped the dagger. “The fate of this world is not mine to decide any longer. Do what you will with Solas. I have arrived at my moment and I will have the final word. Elgar’nan dies by my hand.”

Ellana and Rook exchanged glances as Mythal strode past them, heading towards the throne room.

“Your gods exhaust me,” he remarked when she was out of earshot.

“... Noted,” Ellana said. “Do you think you guys can handle the archdemon?”

“Oh yeah,” Taash said, cracking their knuckles. “We’ve already taken down a bunch of dragons, this one is just a little bigger.”

“Little is an understatement,” Bellara said. “But, yes, we can do it!”

Ellana smiled at her and turned to her friends. “Felassan, Cole, I think you should go with Mythal. She said it herself that she’s not strong enough to defeat Elgar’nan on her own and, right now, he’s invincible. Protect her.”

Felassan nodded. “We will.” She pulled him and Cole into a tight hug. “Stay safe,” she said. “This is almost over.”

They hugged her in return and when Felassan spoke next his voice was thick with emotion. “Bring him back to us.”

“I will.”

As the two groups headed back towards the throne room, Ellana held Rook back.

“Take some advice from a foolish woman who stands on the precipice of losing the one she loves most in this world,” she said, squeezing his hand. “ Tell her. You will forever regret it if you don’t.”

Rook’s eyes widened. “Wh-What? Tell who what?”

Ellana let out a breathless laugh, her eyes filled with tears. “You don’t think I noticed the stolen glances her way when I was spilling my heart out about Solas? You love her, and you need to tell her before it’s too late. Banal nadas. Ar lath, ma vhenan .”

“What does that mean?”

She smiled. “She’ll know what they mean. Tell her.”

A pat on his arm and she left with the others.

Rook stood there, his cheeks flushed, his heart fluttering. He spotted her across the way, talking to Neve.

“Bellara.” He spoke her name like a prayer. She turned, her warm brown eyes brightening at the sound of his voice and she skipped over to him.

“What is it, Rook?”

“There’s something I need to tell you and I’m … I’m sorry it's taken so long for me to get it out. I was afraid, but I’m not anymore.” He leaned in to whisper the words into her ear. When he drew back, she cupped his face in her hands, her eyes filled with happy tears.

“ Mala lath athim, mir uthenara.”

They kissed and Rook finally understood Ellana’s words. So many things were uncertain in this crazy, dangerous world, but there was one constant that always stood against the test of time.

Love.

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greypetrel · 1 day ago

Note

"It's not too much to as for - to be loved." from the soft prompts, perhaps for Alyra/Morrigan? 🥺💜

Hi Mer, thank you so much!

This prompt resonated for them SO MUCH that I actually jumped from one idea to the next without really settling on one. They all sounded good! xD In the end here, some pre-Veilguard shenanigan.

Note: If you notice discrepancies it’s because I’m twisting the canon to my personal worldstate. Nothing much: more time has passed between games, the Wardens in Ferelden are a separate organization than Weisshaupt, Morrigan didn’t do that for that reason (not going to be overtly critical but: I really didn't like it.)

Tis the prompt list

Leave at Dawn

It's not too much to ask for - to be loved

[ Female Mahariel x Morrigan | 1867 words | Veilguard minor spoilers ] Read it on AO3!

Mahariel rose at dawn, and she found the bed empty.

She turned in their bed, and found Morrigan standing tall in front of the window, looking at the sunrise through the diamonds of the leaded glass window. The black of her hair was streaken white, here and there, and it felt like a personal victory, after all odds. White hair, crows’ feet at her eyes and expression lines in her cheeks and all, she was still as beautiful as the first time she saw her. More so, from time and affection.

“You don’t have to do it.” She told her, sitting back up and stretching out a nasty contraction on her shoulder, from sleeping in the wrong position.

“Thou already told me so.” Morrigan smiled, turning to look at her. The fond expression on her face was not something she had, when they met 25 years ago. It was something that came slowly, with patience and trust and the help of the boy, now more a man than a boy, that slept a couple of rooms down the corridor. “Ten times, if I counted correctly.”

“You clearly need to be reminded once more.”

The witch sighed and walked towards her, velvet dressing gown bouncing with each steps. She sat on the bed and gently placed her hands on her shoulders. All the signal Alyra needed to shift forward and let the other start massaging the pain away. She may have been cured of the Blight, thanks to Avernus, but her body took the toll. She felt, physically, much older than her years accounted for.

“I have to go. The Well-”

“You told me.” Alyra scoffed. Her body may not be so cooperative, but her mind still worked fine. “The Veil is about to be torn, if something goes wrong, if the bars of the prison get broken, it’ll be the worse Blight the world ever faced, and no amount of Wardens will be able to stop the tide.” She repeated. “I still disagree it should be you.”

“Who else? I have the memories.”

“Tell the unicorn. How don’t you find her horribly annoying is beyond me. But she’ll listen to you.”

“Lavellan was told. She is ready. You know it, you’re part of her plans.”

“Bah. She’s too soft hearted. She won’t act against Solas, you know it. That nuisance of her daughter would be a best bet, if she was older. But she had the brilliant idea of jumping in a mirror past reachability.”

“She may surprise you. She already did, before.”

“Disbanding the Inquisition? Look where it got us, we don’t have an army to face the storm.”

“You have an army.” Morrigan chastised her, squeezing her shoulders harder.

“Yes, and I don’t suppose that idiot of the First Warden will be so happy to see me that he won’t attack me on sight, if I cross the border.”

She heard Morrigan sigh, at her back. Her arms snaked between hers and her waist, and she was hugged from behind, the witch’s face drowning in the crook of her neck.

“You’re making this more difficult than it is.”

And that stopped Mahariel. She never was able to really go on, not when Morrigan, proud and self-reliant Morrigan, opened up with her like that. Not that she ever openly told her, but she would have gone out of her principles and her ways if the others would have just asked. She loved her, because she never did.

Instead, she placed her hands on the forearms crossed at her belly, all bones and protruding veins, her skin turned ashy.

“I’m just angry it still has to be you, paying for your mother’s mistake.”

“Keep Kieran safe, please.”

��Tell me you want to do this, and I’ll stop complaining.”

“You will keep complaining after your death, scolding the spirits in the Fade because the place is a shade of green you find offensive.” Morrigan snorted.

“Tell me you want to do this. Tell me you want to go.”

She turned, and cupped her face between her hands, gently raising it up so she could look in her eyes. Shiny with tears, but there was something hard in them.

“If you don’t want to-”

“Don’t.” She interrupted her, pushing her closer.

Alyra instinctively closed her eyes, just before lips pressed on her. She answered to the kiss, keeping the other close and pressing herself forward, with a sigh. She let the other hold her, as if she feared she would have disappeared if she didn’t.

She cut it short too soon for both of their tastes.

“I have to, Alyra.” She sighed, resting her forehead against the elf’s.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.” The frown on her face said she did. Or was sure she did, disliked it as she may. “I drank from the Well, I insisted. I took this burden and responsibility, I can’t ask you to shoulder it, if I don’t do anything, provided that the voices will leave me alone. It’s my battle to fight.”

There was another discussion to be repeated, on the Well and that accursed choice she and Lavellan made without thinking. The both of them, the both of them mages, and none that had thought that they could have got rid of the cursed Well in some other way. Like, making the damn water evaporate. She swallowed every word and every complain, tho. It costed her, but she did. If Morrigan really wanted to go, she wasn’t wasting their last moments alone on a squabble to pick at old wounds.

Instead, she traced her cheekbones with her thumbs, delicately, committing her to memory. Years had passed since Morrigan planned to stay away for so long, but Alyra still remembered well what to do. Commit her to memory, bask in every second, make notice of how her skin feels, her smell, the feeling of her hair brushing her cheek, the exact shade of gold of her eyes, the pattern of her moles, the way the line between her eyebrows eased with just enough closeness.

“It’s not much to ask for.”

“To fight a battle against mages so powerful the Fade can’t contain them?”

“I’d do that. In a heartbeat. What’s saving the world once more, if it keeps you here, if it keeps you home? We faced worse odds.”

“That we had, but-”

“I love you.” She bent forward, pressing another kiss on the other’s lips. “I would do that, for you, because I do.” Another kiss. “You’re not asking too much. It’s not much to ask for, to be loved.”

It brought a smile on the other face, and her eyes shone more, with tears Alyra knew she wouldn’t have shed. Not before being alone with her thoughts. She smiled back.

“Sounds familiar.”

“I only quote from the bests.”

She had already told her so. That day on the wastes, when they met again after a year, after the Blight had ended. When Alyra crossed the mirror with her, hand in hand, Morrigan had burst crying, saying it was too much, she couldn’t ask it of her, she had a destiny, and Alyra had answered the same thing she told her, today.

She wondered, and not for the first time as they rose from the bed and dressed, what would have happened if she had stayed with her. And not, after some days, returned at Vigil’s Keep. Ferelden would have gone on without her, maybe worse, but not that bad. Anora had the brains, and they reasoned alike. Nathaniel would have done a good job as an Arl and Warden Commander.

And yet, as she took her time helping Morrigan with her clothes, fixing a dagger more at the back of her leather belt -one never knew- they made it work. Ferelden was better with her, the Wardens there hadn’t been caught in the bullshit Clarel had done in Adamant. When she returned from the Anderfels, Morrigan was there to wait for her, and she never left if not briefly anymore. They made it work, it had been a good life.

She couldn’t help but wonder, fixing the brooch at Morrigan’s throat -golden and engraved with a fox and a raven, their eyes shining in amethysts, a gift she made her years ago- what would have been if they had had more time.

Pointless thoughts she didn’t dwell upon. She was still righting the cloak, when someone knocked on the door. Turning, Kieran peeked in.

“Mothers.” He greeted. “Everything is ready.”

“Come here, boy.” Alyra beckoned.

He grumbled a little, lowering his eyes in embarrassment, but she didn’t yield and urged him on. It was still puzzling how tall he had grown, and even if the lankiness of adolescence, when he looked so confused by how long his legs had become, had disappeared, she still viewed him as her boy.

She clutched the both of them in a hug, and sighed deeply into it.

“You’d better come home, or I’m coming for you.”

“What are you gonna do, mamae? Throwing a slipper at Elgar’nan?” Kieran snorted.

“He’d wish I’d go that gentle.”

Morrigan laughed, clutching the pair of them even closer. For a moment, she seemed like she wouldn’t have let go.

But the moment ended, and she did. Smiling up at Kieran, prouder than she ever was of anything else, and cupped his cheek with one hand.

“Behave.” She just told him.

“I will, mother.” He smiled. “Have I ever not?”

Morrigan scoffed, avoiding answering that question. It usually started a banter between the two, but not today. Today, Kieran just bent forward, with a smile, and let Morrigan press a kiss to his forehead, and ruffle his hair. He really should have cut it, but he always said he liked it long.

The eluvian was ready in the personal studio of the Warden Commander, with the rest of their inner circle. Alyra stood to the side, as she bid goodbye to Nathaniel, Velanna, Sigrun and Anders. Hugged Kieran one more time, before stepping close to her, once again.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Alyra recommended her, closing her hands on hers and squeezing.

“Have I ever?”

Alyra snorted, dragging her back in to kiss her one more time.

When she disappeared past the gleaming silverite of the activated mirror, she let but pass one moment, squeezing Kieran’s hand in hers, for comfort.

A moment, looking at the mirror slowly dim, the surface to ripple back into its dormant state, with longing. They had discussed her coming along, but once more, Alyra was needed there, in the war room, to organize a counter attack, or a second line of defense.

Somehow, she had a bad feeling about it.

But it mattered not.

She turned to her friends, to that bunch of emotional, dear incompetents that were still looking at her with expression of compassion that she really liked little on them. She had trained them better than that.

“Are you fishes, staring like so?” She reprimanded them, suddenly stepping back into the Warden Commander’s shoes. “Back to work, I don’t pay you to stare at me.”

And if a storm was coming, there was enough work to forget she was worried.

#da fanfic #dav #morrigan x warden #morrigan x female mahariel #dragon age #da4 #dragon age the veilguard #writing petrel #canon divergence #alyra mahariel #morrigan dragon age #kieran dragon age #fluff #hurt/comfort #they're *her* incompetents (affectionate)#(she doesn't think they are but won't let them know - least they stop working hard)

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