The Korcari Wilds were quiet -- too quiet for a warm summer evening. Flemeth stood up from the fire and listened to the silence: no creaking insects, no twilight birdsong, only a soft rusting in a nearby stand of trees. "Go inside," she said.
Morrigan looked up from her bowl of stew. "But Mother, I'm not finished eating."
"Then take the food inside with you. Do as I say, girl, or you'll regret it."
Morrigan blew her hair out of her face with the heavy sigh of a twelve-year old who knows, with the certainty only a twelve-year old can have, that the entire world is out to thwart her desires. "Fine." She took an extra portion and stomped inside the cabin.
Flemeth waited until she heard the click of the door, then called out into the night. "Who is there? Show yourself."
A long pause, and then a male elf stepped out of the swamp, pushing the cattails aside as he passed. He was neither old nor young, plain of features and bearing, dressed in rough homespun robes, unremarkable in every way but for his completely bald head, and a smear of blood at his mouth. He wiped away the blood and dropped the raven carcass he carried. "You."
Something stirred in Flemeth's brain, a voice that had been long quiet. "So." She crossed her arms and stepped out from behind the fire. "You're awake."
"And you never slept." The man-- the elf-- Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, approached her, scowling. "How did you escape, Mythal? And why? I was protecting you-- saving you--"
Flemeth closed her eyes, spread her arms, let Mythal rush forward to claim her consciousness. "Saving me from a trap of your own devising?" she said in the old tongue, knowing this to be Mythal's voice as well as her own. "I would find my own path."
"A path that leads you here?" He shifted languages as well, the ancient vowels liquid and subtle. "To this inferior vessel? A human, of all things."
Through Flemeth, Mythal laughed, sadly. "She offered me sanctuary when I needed it. You would rather I had dissipated into the Void?"
"I would rather you had stayed with the others, where you belonged." Fen'Harel was close now, his eyes gleaming. "To see you brought this low..."
Mythal shook her head. "This is no ordinary human, I promise you that," she said. "Unlike the poor hapless man you've claimed. Does he even know what you've made him become?" He opened his mouth to respond, indignant, but she waved him off. "But enough. This need not be like the old days, with us sparring and sniping at each other. No matter what brings us here, we have been too long alone." She reached forward, tracing his jaw with her finger, and he closed his eyes. "I have missed you."
"And I you," he murmured, and she leaned forward for a kiss, gentle and longing and sweet.
"Now go," she said, softly, touching her forehead to his. "Go, and do not return. This world is not safe for you."
"We shall see," he replied, and then left, vanishing back into the reeds. They watched him go, waiting by the fire long after, unwilling to move until the birds returned to the Wilds.
"Awake", Flemeth/Solas, PG, major DA:I spoilers
Morrigan looked up from her bowl of stew. "But Mother, I'm not finished eating."
"Then take the food inside with you. Do as I say, girl, or you'll regret it."
Morrigan blew her hair out of her face with the heavy sigh of a twelve-year old who knows, with the certainty only a twelve-year old can have, that the entire world is out to thwart her desires. "Fine." She took an extra portion and stomped inside the cabin.
Flemeth waited until she heard the click of the door, then called out into the night. "Who is there? Show yourself."
A long pause, and then a male elf stepped out of the swamp, pushing the cattails aside as he passed. He was neither old nor young, plain of features and bearing, dressed in rough homespun robes, unremarkable in every way but for his completely bald head, and a smear of blood at his mouth. He wiped away the blood and dropped the raven carcass he carried. "You."
Something stirred in Flemeth's brain, a voice that had been long quiet. "So." She crossed her arms and stepped out from behind the fire. "You're awake."
"And you never slept." The man-- the elf-- Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, approached her, scowling. "How did you escape, Mythal? And why? I was protecting you-- saving you--"
Flemeth closed her eyes, spread her arms, let Mythal rush forward to claim her consciousness. "Saving me from a trap of your own devising?" she said in the old tongue, knowing this to be Mythal's voice as well as her own. "I would find my own path."
"A path that leads you here?" He shifted languages as well, the ancient vowels liquid and subtle. "To this inferior vessel? A human, of all things."
Through Flemeth, Mythal laughed, sadly. "She offered me sanctuary when I needed it. You would rather I had dissipated into the Void?"
"I would rather you had stayed with the others, where you belonged." Fen'Harel was close now, his eyes gleaming. "To see you brought this low..."
Mythal shook her head. "This is no ordinary human, I promise you that," she said. "Unlike the poor hapless man you've claimed. Does he even know what you've made him become?" He opened his mouth to respond, indignant, but she waved him off. "But enough. This need not be like the old days, with us sparring and sniping at each other. No matter what brings us here, we have been too long alone." She reached forward, tracing his jaw with her finger, and he closed his eyes. "I have missed you."
"And I you," he murmured, and she leaned forward for a kiss, gentle and longing and sweet.
"Now go," she said, softly, touching her forehead to his. "Go, and do not return. This world is not safe for you."
"We shall see," he replied, and then left, vanishing back into the reeds. They watched him go, waiting by the fire long after, unwilling to move until the birds returned to the Wilds.