Unspoken

Chapter 5

It is still dark outside, when the core Inquisition members meet at the main gate of Skyhold. Most are wide awake and eager to leave to their chosen destination. While some of them are still half asleep. Sera yawns and leans her head against the Inquisitor’s shoulder.

“Sera, don’t you dare to fall asleep.” Cassandra admonishes her.

“I’m wide awake!” she replies defending herself, without moving one inch away from the Harold.

“Well I gotta admit, it is pretty damn early for me to be awake as well.” Varric points out.

“You wouldn’t be that tired if you would have slept instead of drinking and writing all night, Varric.” Cassandra lectures him.

“Hey someone has to keep track of all this chaos that’s happening these days, Seeker, or people will never know the truth about the Herald of Andraste and her heroic adventures.” he responds calmly.

“He’s got a point!” Sera snorts.

Cassandra just lets out an annoyed noise.

“Can we leave now perhaps?” she asks unpatient, looking at the inquisitor.


“Uh… yes, grab your partners and let’s not waste any more time! Be careful everyone!”

After leaving the Fortress every team starts to go towards another direction. Soon Morrigan and Leliana are on their own. The first sun beams are starting to show up on the mostly still dark sky. The daggers on Leliana’s belt reflect the soft light. This is the moment the witch realizes that the bard wears her old armor.

The same dark plates on her shoulders that extend on one side to her forearm, the dark red leather pieces even with the silver sword of mercy sigil on it. The dark boots in which she used to step through every area as silent as a cat and of course her bow and arrows she carries on her back. This gives her some flashbacks of their time together for sure. Mostly good ones in fact. She has to admit that she misses those times with the warden and the others, even Alistair. And she missed ‘the pretty redhead’, as Zevran used to call her, the most. This thought reminded her of a conversation she once had with him.

 Zevran walks up to Morrigan while she was on the night watch.

“My dear Morrigan, I’ve noticed you have a soft spot for the pretty redhead, yes?” he sits down next to her in front of the fireplace of the camp and looks at the witch with a pleased smirk.

Morrigan gives him an unimpressed, slightly annoyed look.

“And this absolutely ridiculous conclusion from a failed assassin.” She points out.

“Oh my dear woman, you can mock me as long as you desire but you know it is the truth. You don’t make as much fun of her anymore and you spend an impressive amount of time in her company – if you consider that you usually spend most of your time in the camp alone.” He arches his brows

“I think you may have spent too much time brewing your poison, the vapors obviously burnt some of your brain cells. Not that this would be any of your business anyway.” The witch replies.

“Well that may be true but have you considered that Leliana might know? Do you really think a well- trained bard would not notice your change of tune or your different body language?” he grins at her.

Morrigan really didn’t consider this possibility so far and she felt like a fool for not doing so. If even a useless assassin like Zevran notices this of course Leliana would as well.

“Like I said, this is none of your business. Go annoy someone else Zevran.” She points out to end this conversation.

Zevran chuckles and gets up. He knew he was right and that’s all he needed to know.

Leliana walks beside the witch, she tries to focus on the way ahead of them and she decides to avoid talking to her companion for as long as possible. She knows, she cannot stay silent forever but maybe long enough to sort her thoughts and figure out what to tell her or even how to start in the first place. She promised Josie she would swallow her pride and talk to Morrigan and she is a woman who keeps her promises, she just needs a little bit more time.

A long and silent walk later their surroundings starts to change. They enter a deep forest with giant trees, big rocks that are mostly covered by moss and some remains of elvish buildings. There aren’t really any paths that lead through the woods that you would find in a regular forest. It’s easy to get lost in a place like this. The plants, the grass and treetops, everything appears in a very rich green. Paired with the almost golden sunbeams that manage to shine through the big trees, the woodland looks like a beautiful painting.

Morrigan curiously looks around as they go deeper into the woods. ‘Emerald´ Graves appears to be truly a fitting name for this place.

“There is a river nearby that flows through the middle of the forest, we should set up our camp somewhere in that area.” Leliana suggests now to finally break the silence between the two of them.

“You are familiar to this place?” Morrigan asks with a surprised tune in her voice.


“We are on Orlesian ground, I’ve been here before, when I was still working for Marjolaine.” she replies.

“The Inquisitor really made her homework when she set up the teams.” The witch points out.


“You really think Trevelyan planned this?” Leliana raises her brows.


“Well ‘tis what I assumed regarding her title, but I guess she might be the face of the Inquisition but not necessarily the brain is what you’re implying?”


“She is our leader, the woman with the anchor who has been chosen by Andraste and saved us in Haven but her advisors are doing most of the research and planning, suggest strategies so she can focus on closing the rifts.”


“Interesting, very clever to let it look like the Inquisitor is leading everything on her own. I am impressed.” Morrigan smirks.

There it is again, that self-satisfied smirk Morrigan has that has driven her crazy so many times back then. That sheer self-confidence that woman radiates sometimes is both annoying and kinda hot at the same time. Maker she needs to get rid of those thoughts and focus on the mission.

The bard takes a deep breath and just keeps walking, it’s not far anymore, she can already hear the babbling of the river.

“There it is. This should be a good place to set up the camp.” Leliana points to a nice little clearing next to the river.

Morrigan stops and inspects the place.


“Alright let’s get this done quick then.” She replies and puts down her backpack.

Leliana takes the tent out of her bag and starts to put it together, while Morrigan walks to the river to get water to cook and wood for the fire. They don’t even have to communicate, they prepared a camp together so many times before, that both of them just know their part instinctively. The fire making is Morrigan’s duty since the day she made fun of Alistair for taking too long to create a flame. He was so pissed he asked the warden to decide that the witch should do it from now on. This thought still amuses her and she caught herself smiling at this memory. She should really visit him sometime.

Morrigan returns to their camp and places the collected wood carefully on the ground and puts some stones in a circle around it to prevent the fire to spread later. Then she ignites the wood with a simple hand movement.

The bard prepares the finished tent for the night and looks over to her companion when she starts the fire.

“Still have to brag with your fireplace, don’t you?”


“Not at all.” She replies with a grin on her lips while cooking their dinner on the pot.

Leliana rolls her eyes and sits down in front of the fireplace. She feels pretty tired, she didn’t get much sleep, too much going on in her mind and the long walk to the Emerald Graves didn’t help either.
She watches the witch stirring the stew, it almost feels like they traveled back in time. But now is not the time to get sentimental over the past. They have to get some rest and find the shards tomorrow.

They barely talk while eating as well and sometime later they both crawled into the tent. It is big enough for two people but there is not enough space between the two of them for Leliana’s taste. She lays down on her sleeping mat, her dagger right next to her, staring at the top of the tent, hoping she will fall asleep fast.

Morrigan lays down next to the bard. It feels strange to sleep right next to her, not that they never shared a tent before. It happened on rare occasions, like the one time Morrigan had a heavily poisoned wound after a fight with some antivan assassins that followed Zevran to the camp. Leliana insisted to stay with her during the night to take care of her and her fever.

That was obviously during the time they got along better than now. But sharing a tent with her still feels weirdly comforting. 

She glances over to the redhead for a moment before she closes her eyes and falls asleep shortly after.

Luckily the night is calm and they both get some halfway restful sleep.