#morriganxwarden

[resolart]

happy pride i am once again promoting the bi morrigan agenda 😭🙏🏼💕

[resolart]

this pride i am once again promoting my bi agenda of letting morrigan kiss girls 😤💕

[resolart]

let morrigan kiss girls 💋

[crim-bat]

Krim/Morrigan superhero au

“Commissioner, I can explain,” Krim pleaded.

“Explain?!” The commissioner shouted indignantly. “The suspects won’t stop screaming about Goddamn Cthulu!”

“Well,” Morrigan waved her hand in clear dismissal of the police officer. “If they didn’t want to be punished for following those idiot girls then they obviously shouldn't have dressed like they were asking to be damned to a life of never ending nightmares.”

[burninglizard]

An idea for fan art if someone wants to run with it (ie/ someone that can draw way better than me). But I’ve got this image in my head of how different Morrigan must look depending on who is looking at her. Picture for example Alistair seeing her and she’s the most terrifying thing imaginable, yet still sexy in a way that disturbs him.

And then you’ve got my Warden who can’t see anything except an adorable big eyed waifu and keeps wondering why everyone else hates her.

[wombuttress-art]

dev is a jetpack. morrigan claims to hate cuddling but she is a Liar.

(she’s going to spend a good five minutes in the morning getting him to stop clinging)

[burninglizard]

Beautiful Madness Chapter 6

Maxwell approached Vivienne’s balcony. The Enchanter of the Imperial Court of Orlais liked her privacy, and Maxwell was certain the ability to watch Skyhold’s daily activities from a bird’s eye view was an added bonus. He found Vivienne standing out on the balcony, looking down at the courtyard. She turned to face him when she heard his approach.

“Ah Inquisitor, darling,” Vivienne said. “So good to see you.”

“Vivienne,” Maxwell inclined his head before joining her on the balcony.

“You look like a man with questions,” Vivienne said. “What can I do for you?”

“Actually, yes,” Maxwell said. “I was wondering if you could assist me. What do you know about Eluvians?”

Vivienne arched a perfectly poised eyebrow. “Not much, my dear,” she said. “It’s old knowledge, mostly lost to history. Why?”

“Lady Morrigan has suggested that Corypheus may be trying to gain access to one, in order to enter the fade in the flesh,” Maxwell said. “I was hoping that your network of mages would be able to dig up more information.”

“Firstly,” Vivienne said, frowning. “You don’t need to call her ‘Lady’ anything. The woman does not deserve that title.”

“Well actually,” Maxwell started to say, but paused.

“Actually, what?” Vivienne said.

“Never mind,” Maxwell said. “It’s not my place to say.”

Vivienne fixed Maxwell with a narrow eyed stare, trying to figure what he had meant to say. When no answers were forthcoming she leaned over the balcony railing and looked down into the courtyard. She noticed a small figure running towards the training field where Cassandra waited. “I’ve seen that child around the fortress,” Vivienne said. “Whose is he? What is he doing here? This is hardly a safe place for children.”

Leaning over to look over the balcony, Maxwell couldn’t suppress the smile on his face when he saw Cassandra running Kieran through a new drill. “Ah, that’s Kieran,” he said. “Lady Morrigan’s son.”

Vivienne’s eyes widened. “She has a child?” She suddenly remembered seeing the boy around the Orlesian court. She had paid him no mind, assuming he was the child of some unimportant family.

“That explains a lot,” Vivienne said. “What the court would have done with that information. I can see why she would have kept him a secret.”

Maxwell wondered if perhaps he should not have told Vivienne this. It had seemed innocent information, but the way Vivienne was reacting made him a bit uncomfortable.

“Well,” he said. “If your people could look into the Eluvians. I would be more comfortable with multiple opinions on the matter.”

“Of course, my dear,” Vivienne said, a thoughtful frown on her face.

After Maxwell had left Vivienne considered what she should do with her newfound information. Certainly she could use the leverage against that wretched woman and…rather not. The boy could not help his parentage, and using him to strike at his mother was far too cruel. Instead Vivienne enjoyed the rush from knowing information that had probably best been kept a secret.

Leliana found Kieran in the rookery, one of her ravens perched on his shoulder while Kieran ran his hands over the bird’s feathers. He smiled when he saw Leliana approaching, and she found herself unable to resist smiling back.

“Hello Kieran,” Leliana said. “What are you doing?”

“I’m studying your Raven,” Kieran said, as the bird leaned down and pecked at his shirt. “Mother is teaching me how to shapeshift. But I have to study each animal I want to turn into first.”

“And you want to turn into a Raven first?”

Kieran nodded. “I want to be able to fly. But I can’t figure out how it knows how to fly.”

“It’s a bird,” Leliana said. “It just knows.”

“Yes,” Kieran said. “But I’m not a bird. So how do I learn how to fly if I can’t turn into a bird because I don’t know how they know how to fly.”

“Uh,” Leliana blinked. She normally considered herself capable of following explanations of unfamiliar topics fairly well. But hearing Kieran talk was like hearing a fish describe how wet water was. To him it was just the way of the world, so why would anyone not understand what he was saying? Perhaps, she considered, in a way she could understand his dilemma with the Raven.

The aforementioned bird jumped off of Kieran’s shoulder, fluttering back to its perch. Kieran watched it fly away, then turned to look at Leliana. “If only I could get them to sit still long enough.”

Leliana laughed. Kieran stood, watching her, as if expecting something more. Leliana might have felt uncomfortable from the attention, but she noticed so many of Aedan’s feature’s in the boy that it was almost like having an adorable younger version of her friend with her.

“Tell me,” Leliana said, a sudden wistful mood striking her. “About your father.”

Kieran frowned. “But you’re his friend, you know him.”

“Yes,” Leliana said. “But I have not seen him in almost ten years. You’ve known him for longer than I have.”

“Okay,” Kieran said, accepting the strange logic. “What did you want to know?”

“Where did you live? When the three of you were together.”

“In the other place,” Kieran said.

“Other place?”

“It’s the place we reached through the mirror,” Kieran said. “Mother said it was another world. A smaller world. We had a little cabin there, next to a forest. Father would go into the forest to hunt food, while Mother taught me. Then Father would bring the food home, and while Mother cooked it he would teach me how to use a sword once I was old enough. Or he would read to me. Story books, history books. He taught me about our family’s history.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Leliana said. “Why did you leave?”

“Mother says that we could not stay there forever,” Kieran said. “That I had a destiny in the real world. So once she said I was old enough we left. And went to Orlais.”

“Was your father with you in Orlais?”

Kieran shook his head. “Mother and I lived in Orlais at first, but Father went back to Ferelden. He had business to attend to. From when he was living with us. He came back, in disguise, later. Mother said I couldn’t tell anyone who my parents were, that it wasn’t safe. He lived with us, in secret, in Orlais. Then he had to leave again.”

Leliana’s heart broke at the look in Kieran’s eyes. The poor boy was barely ten years old, all he wanted was for his Father to be there. And yet it could not be, not for now.

“Did your father say why he had to leave?” Leliana asked.

“Mother explained it, afterwards,” Kieran said. “She told me that Father would die in twenty years, unless he found a cure for the taint.” There was fear in his eyes. Leliana could tell that Kieran took an oddly logical approach to the world for one so young. But he was still a boy, afraid for his father, missing him dearly.

Kieran cocked his head at Leliana. “You don’t like my mother.”

“Uh,” Leliana stammered. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s obvious,” Kieran said. “To anyone watching. Why don’t you like her?”

“Well,” Leliana said. “It’s complicated. I like her well enough now, but when we both knew your father we did not get along. But I can see that she is not the same person she was back then. You’ve helped her become a better person.”

Kieran frowned, as if to say he did not see how he made his mother a better person. To him she was always a good person. She was his mother, what else could she be but good?

“Father said you know a lot of stories,” Kieran said. “Could you tell me a story?”

Leliana wanted to refuse, she had put that part of her life behind herself. But the look in Kieran’s eyes, so much like his father’s—Aedan had been a champion at the puppy dog look. Whenever his silver tongue failed him and he did not need to preserve his dignity he could get his way with that look. And he seemed to have passed it along to his son.

More than that though, Leliana could see what Kieran was really asking. He wanted to hear her stories about his Father. Leliana could not refuse him.

“Very well,” she said. “Sit down and I’ll tell you a story.”

Kieran sat down at Leliana’s table, as the former bard began to tell the tale of her journey at the side of the Hero of Ferelden. Certain details, particularly the more licentious details of his parents’…courtship, were left unsaid. After a while Leliana noticed that some of her agents were lingering, listening to her story. She was not surprised, many of these people knew her as well as anyone knew her nowadays, and they had all heard about her stories. It was a rare opportunity for them indeed. Leliana continued the story and she felt happier than she had in a long time.

Dorian was heading to the library after waking up somewhat later than usual. To his surprise he found his usual spot occupied. He had not yet met Kieran, though he had seen the lad wandering the fortress, and was aware who the boy’s parents were. Kieran was reading a heavy bound book that looked comically large in his lap.

“Dragon Cults of Tevinter,” Dorian read aloud. “Heavy reading for a boy your age.”

Kieran looked up. “He…I wanted to know about Tevinter history,” Kieran said. “I was curious. So much has been lost and misunderstood.”

“Well,” Dorian said, taking a seat in the chair across from Kieran. “I happen to be somewhat of an expert on Tevinter history. Though, I suppose, recent discoveries have cast my supposed expertise into doubt. I could still answer any questions you may have, young man.”

“Your country used to worship dragons,” Kieran said, looking up from his book. “Why don’t you anymore? Some of them still exist. They were real.”

“Well, the fact that they currently slumber, awaiting the time when they will ravage the world as archdemons does put a damper on most would be worshippers.” Dorian sighed. “Though that hasn’t stopped some. The official reason why dragon worship died out in most of the Imperium has to do with Archon Hessarian’s conversion to Andrastianism. When the ruler of your country changes faith, and instates it as the state religion, making it his life’s work to wipe out the old cults, that tends to change one’s views over the course of several generations.”

“But what if the old gods came back? What if one of them returned, not as an archdemon, but as it once was, purified of the taint? Would people worship it?”

Dorian felt somewhat uncomfortable with the questions. The boy was not asking questions a ten year old would. He seemed to have an odd amount of foreknowledge on the topic. More than he would have expected a boy of his age to have at least.

“Well,” Dorian hummed. “I suppose some might. But I say more fool they. The old gods were nothing but dragons. Powerful dragons to be sure, but not beings particularly deserving of worship.”

Kieran nodded and turned back to his book. It did not seem like he was going to ask any more questions, so Dorian picked out the book he had been reading from the shelves and set to his own study.

Some hours passed, and the two still sat reading. Dorian could finally take it no more. He had to ask the question that had been itching the back of his brain.

“So why the interest in the old gods?” He asked Kieran.

Kieran looked up, seemed to consider the question for a minute. “The world is different from what he remembers. So much has changed. It confuses him.”

“I…see?” Dorian had no clue what the boy was talking about. “And who is this ‘he’?”

“He is the last age,” was all Kieran would say. He looked back at his book, read a couple lines, and then closed it. Kieran left without saying anything else.

“What was that all about?”

Dorian looked over his shoulder. Vivienne was standing at the corner of the bookshelf, looking down the stairs where Kieran had just left.

“Oh, nothing much,” Dorian said. “Lad had some questions about the old Tevinter gods.”

“And what was he talking about at the end there?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Dorian said. “Children say strange things sometimes. You should have heard half the things that came out of my mouth when I was his age.”

“Indeed,” Vivienne frowned down the stairs. Her brow creased in confusion and curiosity.

“Is everything all right?” Dorian asked.

“Oh perfectly fine, dear,” Vivienne said, before turning and heading back to her balcony.

Dorian shrugged and turned back to his reading.

[burninglizard]

Beautiful Madness Chapter 5

There were two packages waiting on Leliana’s table when she arrived in her rookery. She noted that one was addressed to Maxwell, while the other, in identical handwriting, was addressed to Morrigan and Kieran.

With a rush of excitement Leliana pulled open the package addressed to Maxwell. There was a belt inside, she set it aside to deliver it later, and a letter. She opened the letter, scanning the contents. She was mildly disappointed when there was nothing in the letter for her. It was purely business, along with a veiled threat Aedan had included in regards to the safety of his family.

His family.

Ten years had passed. Leliana had lost herself in her work, but there were many times that she still wondered about what could have been, were it not for Morrigan. She glanced at the package addressed to Morrigan. It was somewhat larger than the one for the Inquisitor. Undoubtedly there would be another letter in there. Not one for her, but she was sorely tempted to look anyway. If nothing else just to be able to see her friend’s writing again.

She desisted, instead gathering up both packages. There was a council meeting scheduled for later in the day, but first she could deliver Morrigan’s package.

Leliana found Morrigan and Kieran in the garden. Both mother and son were sitting on—or laying next to in Kieran’s case, enjoying the morning sun—a bench reading. They were both holding heavy tomes, Kieran would look up at Morrigan and ask a question. What the two were reading Leliana could not, nor did she want to, begin to guess. She cleared her throat as she approached them.

Kieran looked up at her and smiled. Leliana felt a dull pang of regret in her heart. He looks so much like his father. How a sweet child like that could have ever come from Morrigan, Leliana supposed she would never know. Perhaps it was Aedan’s influence, or perhaps it showed how much of an effect Flemeth’s upbringing had on Morrigan. The woman herself had certainly become far more tolerable in the past ten years that Leliana could possibly believe that she would have been quite an agreeable person had she been raised by loving parents instead.

Still, as she looked at Kieran, Leliana could not help but wonder what her own child would look like. Would there be more of her, or more of Aedan in it? She had a brief flash in her mind of a young girl, bright red hair done up in braids, with hauntingly familiar blue eyes.

“Good morning, Leliana,” Morrigan said. She certainly sounded pleasant, that in itself was a surprise, if only because Leliana distinctly remembered Morrigan was always at her grumpiest in the mornings.

“Good morning,” Leliana said. “A package arrived, addressed to you.” She handed the parcel to Morrigan, whose eyes lit up when she saw the handwriting on the parcel.

“Still sealed,” Morrigan said. “How very thoughtful.”

“Is it from Father?” Kieran asked.

“Tis,” Morrigan said as she opened the parcel. There were two letters on top of the contents of the package, one addressed to Morrigan, and one to Kieran. Morrigan took the letters and set the rest of the contents aside. She handed the smaller of the two to her son, who laid back down on the grass to read.

Leliana looked at Morrigan as the latter read her letter. She knew that Morrigan would want her privacy, but something about her expression fascinated Leliana, to the point that she found herself unwilling to leave. She was smiling, that alone in itself was rare enough, but it wasn’t Morrigan’s usual smirk. It was a tender, fragile smile, one that Leliana was more accustomed to seeing on the faces of much younger women. Girls that were experiencing love for the first time, happy yet unsure of what to make of the unfamiliar fluttering in their chest. Leliana did not often see such a smile on women closer to her age, nor had she ever expected to see it on Morrigan’s face. Morrigan, who had cruelly and definitively shot down any suggestion that what she felt for Aedan was anything other than respect mingled with lust.

Maker’s breath, Leliana thought. She actually loves him.

Despite everything, Morrigan’s own words, Aedan’s letters, the fact that the two had been together for nigh unto ten years. Despite all this Leliana had never been able to wrap her mind around the concept that Morrigan truly loved him, possibly more than Leliana had ever cared for the Warden.

A light blush dusted Morrigan’s cheeks, catching Leliana completely off guard. Morrigan looked up, the soft look in her eyes visible only for a second before Morrigan’s usual smirk hid any evidence of her actual feelings.

“A shame you left this unopened,” she said as she set the letter aside. “It would have been most…informative for you.”

“Oh,” Leliana said. “It has been informative enough.”

Morrigan frowned. She looked about to speak, but before she could Kieran was at her side, thrusting his letter into her hands. “Look!” The boy said. “It says here that Father wants me to keep practicing the sword, can I Mother?”

With a sigh, Morrigan rolled her eyes and nodded. Kieran left his letter with Morrigan and ran off. “But be back for your studies!” Morrigan set her son’s letter atop her own. She gestured to Leliana to sit. Leliana did so, placing the Inquisitor’s parcel and letter between them, atop Aedan’s other letters.

Uncertain what Morrigan wanted, Leliana and her sat in silence. Finally…

“So much has changed,” Morrigan said. When Leliana looked at her in confusion. “From ten years ago I mean. The world once again stands at the brink of destruction, a hero arises to fight evil. And yet this time he is significantly better supported.”

Leliana laughed. “Aedan would have killed to have a force like the Inquisition during the Blight.”

“He did in some cases,” Morrigan chuckled. Leliana, with her new outlook on the world found herself appreciating the joke more than she ever could have ten years ago.

It felt strange to be talking to Morrigan like this. In the past she had tried to be friendly, but Morrigan had made sure nothing ever came of that. It was unlike Morrigan to talk for the sake of talking.

“Are you…trying to make small talk?” Leliana asked. She glanced over at Morrigan who looked away, lightly flushed in embarrassment.

“I…have learned, in my time away from the wilds, that there is no harm in conversation for conversation’s sake. Aedan, he would constantly find things to talk about, despite there being no need for conversation. I…enjoyed this. He cares for you, as a friend. You and I, we have caused him much grief with our animosity in the past. Much of this was my fault. I had little tolerance for fools when I was younger. And I saw you as the biggest fool, with your vision, your faith in a god that had decreed that my kind were to be locked away. I know you tried to be pleasant at first, but I never could trust that you would not betray me to the Templars. I was unkind. I would like to put that behind us.”

“You’re,” Leliana could hardly believe her ears. “Apologizing?”

“Absolutely not,” Morrigan said. “But there is little sense in continuing a pointless feud. And if nothing else I have no desire to cause Aedan any more grief. He would like to see us make peace.”

“I,” Leliana paused. Morrigan had been an absolute, cruel bitch. She had a talent for finding that one thing that would cause the most pain and digging at it every chance she saw. Aedan had often tried to explain to her how much of this was Flemeth’s influence. He clearly saw something in the woman that Leliana herself could never see. But the fact that Morrigan, who had once taunted Leliana for her crush on Aedan, was willing to apologize—despite what she claimed—suggested that perhaps Aedan had known what he was talking about.

She took a deep breath. “I can understand why you would be suspicious of me,” Leliana said. “The chantry has not been kind in its dealings with mages. The rebellion has made that much clear. I have thought about the situation for some time. I did not realize at the time, but I think I am beginning to understand that the circles were not the refuge I thought them. After knowing you, I can see how a person would value their freedom more than safety, and why you would hate the chantry so much.”

Morrigan shrugged. “I do not hate the chantry. I think its followers are fools, and the chantry certainly has many sins in its past. But there is some value in the kind of faith it inspires. You, Seeker Pentaghast, the followers of the Inquisition. This kind of fervor could do great things in this world, if only it could be productively channeled.”

They fell into an oddly comfortable silence after that, the two of them enjoying the morning sun.

“So,” Leliana said. “About the dress…”

Morrigan groaned. “I did not realize until afterwards that it resembled the one you had suggested. So no, I did not take your advice. Kieran was the one to chose the dress.”

Leliana laughed. “He has excellent taste then.”

When they left the council meeting later in the day, Leliana did not notice that she had accidentally mixed up part of Morrigan’s letter. As usual all papers were picked up by Josephine, who took them to be filed in her office. After putting the papers away she left to have lunch with Leliana.

Which is when Sera, looking for some prank material, came snooping around. She was hoping to find a list of visiting dignitaries, something she could use to prank some of the high and mighty ponces that liked to strut around Skyhold, acting like they were the ones saving the world. As if just being seen in the Inquisition was enough to stop Coryfathingie.

Going through Josephine’s files Sera came across an interesting couple pages. There was no indication of who there were written by—or for—but after reading just a couple lines Sera could tell this was not Josie’s usual paperwork. Regular paperwork did not refer to nearly as many body parts and what intimate things the writer wanted to do to them.

It was most definitely a letter. A very personal letter. And hidden among Josie’s papers, as if she didn’t want anyone finding it. With a mischievous smirk Sera slipped the pages under her shirt and left the office.

She ran all the way to the tavern, where she found Bull, Varric, and Blackwall were having lunch together.

“You won’t believe what I found,” she said as she sat down at their table.

“What is it?” Blackwall asked.

Sera smirked. She knew a thing or two about Blackwall that he and Josie liked to keep secret. “Oh like you don’t know,” she pulled out the letter and handed it to him. “Look familiar?”

Blackwall read through the letter, his eyes widened, and whistled once he finished. He passed it to Iron Bull next.

“I have no idea what that is,” Blackwall said.

“What?” Sera said. “But, I found it in Josie’s papers. Who else wrote it if not you?”

Blackwall paused, a spoon of stew halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“You know,” Sera said. “You and Josie, always leaving things for each other…this isn’t yours?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blackwall said. “And no, it’s not mine.”

“It’s definitely hot,” Iron Bull said, passing the letter to Varric. “Whoever wrote it.”

“You think she has a lover no one knows about?” Sera asked.

“I…” Blackwall looked downcast. “I didn’t think she did.”

“Who wrote this then?” Sera asked.

“Well,” said Varric, looking over the letter. “The handwriting is very good, and the spelling is perfect. Someone educated. Maybe a noble? Dialect,” he flipped through the two pages, “is Ferelden. Guess she has an intimate friend in Ferelden? Whoever wrote it is a pretty damn good writer. That’s some high quality personalized smut right there.”

“Whoever this is,” Blackwall said. “I never would have thought that Lady Montilyet would be the kind to receive letters like that.”

“We should ask her who it is,” Sera said.

“I don’t think that would go very well,’ Varric said. “You’d just embarrass the poor thing. And Leliana would kill you. Better put it back, and pretend you never saw it.”

“Oh fine,” Sera sighed. “Perfectly good bit of fun wasted there.”

The door to Josephine’s office was slightly propped open when Sera arrived. She could hear voices from inside. Loud voices. All of them women, and one very angry. Sera paused to listen before opening the door.

“Well where is it then?” Sera didn’t recognize that voice, she peeked through the crack in the door, catching a glimpse of that creepy mage woman. Morrigana, Morgana, something like that.

“I put all the paperwork from the meeting in the same place,” Josie was saying. “It should be with the letter the Hero of Ferelden sent the Inquisitor. If his letter to you was with my papers it would be right there.”

Hero of Ferelden? Sera frowned. What were they going on about?

“Could someone have stolen it?” Morrigan asked.

“I don’t see how,” Leliana said. “Nobody should be able to open those locks. Unless…”

Something in Sera’s brain clicked, and she finally put two and two together. She’d heard rumors about the Hero of Ferelden. She was in Denerim during the blight, but hadn’t cared much to think about those times. She had heard from the others that he and Morrigan were an item. He was braver than Sera for sure. Morrigan was a knockout for certain, but absolutely terrifying even if she wasn’t a mage. If she was looking for a letter that was meant to be with Josie’s papers…

The pit of Sera’s stomach dropped out from beneath her. Oh shite…

Varric was seated at his usual spot, quill in hand and paper in front of him. He was trying to write down what he remembered from the letter. He’d change a few details of course, but it would make for some good reference material. He wasn’t one to write hardcore smut, but the letter had tickled a certain part of his brain. Maybe he could try his hand at it.

“Varric, Varric, Varric,” he heard Sera cry, stopping her run in front of his table. “I need your help!”

“What is it?” Varric asked, looking up from his paper. He surreptitiously covered what he had written with his arm.

Sera explained what she had just found out. Who the letter she had swiped actually belonged to.

After she was done, Varric stared at her. “Oh,” he said. “That’s not good.”

“No frick it’s not good!” Sera cried. “What am I going to do?”

“Hide?” Varric suggested. Sera groaned at him. “Well, you need to get it back to her. Somehow. Without her knowing you, or anyone else, read it. I’ve heard she’s Flemeth’s daughter.” He elaborated when Sera gave him a blank stare. “You know. Ancient abomination, thousands of years old. Steals children and devours them?”

Sera looked like she was about to cry.

“Don’t worry,” Varric said. “She’d probably settle just for killing you.”

They heard the sound of Josephine’s office door opening. Sera’s head snapped round, her eyes growing wide as she saw Morrigan and Leliana leaving. By the time Varric turned to look at Sera she was already gone.

“Huh,” he said as he tossed his paper into the fireplace. “She can really disappear when she wants to. Almost as good as Cole.”

Cassandra had just finished her training when a blur came streaking by the training grounds. It almost looked like Sera, but she could not be certain. As Cassandra put her sword away she noticed some papers lying on the ground. She picked them up, and looked over them to see if she could find who they belonged to.

Within minutes Cassandra felt like she need to take a cold bath. This letter…not even Varric’s books could compare to this. She would be horrified to be found with this, but was dreadfully fascinated by what she read. It read like a letter, but taken from the middle of the letter, with no name for who it was meant for and who it was written by.

Perhaps it was Varric’s? He had written smut before, nothing like this obviously, but still. Perhaps he was trying to branch out? She decided that if nothing else Varric might know who it belonged to.

She found the dwarf in his usual spot. As Cassandra approached she noted that Leliana and Lady Morrigan were headed up into the rookery.

“Varric,” Cassandra called. “I found this outside. Is it yours?”

Varric took one look at the pages and cursed. “Dammit! Don’t bring that thing back to me!”

“Why? Didn’t you write it?” Cassandra asked. “It’s quite good. Even better than your last chapter.”

“I…” Varric stopped. “You think it’s better than my writing?”

“It’s much more descriptive than usual, and very creative in its descriptions,” Cassandra said.

“Well it’s not mine,” Varric said. “If you must know, it belongs to Lady Morrigan. It’s part of a letter the Hero of Ferelden wrote to her.”

Cassandra paused. The implications of what Varric had just told her sinking in.

“Ah,” she said. “I should probably return it to her then.”

“Are you crazy?” Varric cried. “She’ll kill you!”

“I did not steal it from her,” Cassandra said. “And it is her property. I should return it to her.”

“But what if she asks you if you read it?”

“I will tell her the truth,” Cassandra said. “And apologize. Where is she?”

“In the rookery,” Varric said, sighing. “She and Leliana went to check the papers up there.”

Cassandra climbed the stairs to the rookery. Knowing who the letter was from, and who it was for, she could not help but feel immensely jealous of Morrigan. The passion in her relationship was evident, even through a simple letter.

She was lost in thought, so Cassandra did not notice Dorian until she had bumped into him. She dropped the papers, and before she could pick them back up Dorian had reached down and gathered them up. She tried to grab the paper from Dorian, but the mage had caught a glimpse of what was written on them and danced out of her reach.

“My, my, my, Cassandra,” Dorian said. “I did not realize things were so serious between you and Maxwell.”

“It’s not mine,” Cassandra grabbed the papers.

“Well whose is it then?” Dorian asked.

Morrigan chose that exact moment to appear in the library—expression thunderous—followed by Leliana. She saw the papers in Cassandra’s hands and dashed over, grabbing them from her. She took a second to read the first page.

The look Morrigan gave Cassandra froze her blood as effectively as any Seeker’s abilities.

“Where,” she seethed. “Did you. Get. This.”

“It was dropped by the training field,” Cassandra said. “I happened to come upon it.”

“Did you read it?” Morrigan asked.

“I,” Cassandra said. “Yes. I did.”

“Ah,” said Dorian. “So that was your letter? Well…uh…” He turned and ran out of the library.

Morrigan glared after the other mage. She turned back to Cassandra. “And did you see who did the dropping?”

Cassandra hesitated. “I…did not. They ran by while I wasn’t looking.”

Morrigan sighed. “Wonderful…”

“What,” Leliana said. “I thought you wanted other people to read it. Weren’t you wanting to show it off?”

“That,” Morrigan blushed. An odd sight. “I was just saying that. I didn’t actually want…” She sighed. “Oh well. The damage is done.” She turned to Cassandra. “Don’t tell anyone else what you read.”

With that she stalked off.

Leliana turned to Cassandra. “So,” she said. “I don’t suppose you remember what was in the letter?”

Cassandra groaned.

Later that evening, in the tavern, most of the companions were gathered around for a late night drink. When Varric strolled in he was relieved to see that Sera was still in one piece.

“Good to see you’re still alive,” he said, with a laugh.

“Piss off,” Sera said, anxiously looking around. As if she expected the angry mage to materialize out of thin air.

“So I take it you were the one to liberate that letter?” Dorian asked Sera.

“Shut up!”

They sat, drinking in silence.

“So,” Iron Bull said. “The Hero of Ferelden writes dirty letters to his lady. Can’t say I expected that.”

“You should have seen her when she saw Cassandra with the letter,” Dorian said. “I thought somebody was going to die right then and there.”

“Cassandra vs Morrigan,” Iron Bull laughed. “Now that’s a fight I’d pay to see.”

“That letter,” Varric said. “Reminds me of something Hawke would have written to Isabela. Though Hawke’s would have had much worse spelling, and have been under the influence of far more alcohol, but still…”

Two of Thedas’ biggest heroes, and both of them had very similar relationships with their women. Varric wondered if that was just a coincidence or if all great men had a preference for difficult women. Well, considering Maxwell and Cassandra, Varric supposed it must be the latter.

The day had been a complete catastrophe, Morrigan thought as she tucked Kieran into bed. It had begun so well, the letter from Aedan had been more than she had hoped for. Both had agreed that they would not let themselves be overcome with loneliness. But after reading his letter, Morrigan could not deny just how much she missed him. The feeling of bitter longing, that she normally hid in the deeper recesses of her mind, had slipped out and was gnawing at her heart.

“I miss Father,” Kieran said.

“I know,” Morrigan said, kissing her son’s forehead.

“You miss Father, don’t you, Mother?”

Morrigan smiled wistfully. “More than you can imagine, little man. Why the question?”

“You never say you do,” Kieran said.

“Your Father knows how I feel, without my needing to say. He knows we miss him. Just as he misses us.”

She turned and closed the door to Kieran’s small room behind her. On the couch—before the fireplace—Aedan’s letter lay on the cushions, the infamous pages back in their rightful place. She picked it up to read it again. She was only glad that the last page had not been included in those misplaced. She read over those lines again, the ones that placed that ache in her heart.

I never wanted to be apart from you like I am now, Morrigan. I still do not know how long I will be away. I have a lead, one that I hope is finally what I have been seeking. But I can’t say for sure whether this is it, or just another false lead like so many before.

I love you and Kieran, with all my heart. I will come back to you. No matter what it takes.

Always,

Your Aedan.