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Morrigan knew that it was foolish, but she cradled the remains of the broken mirror to her chest anyway as she sat in the bushes far away from her mother’s hut. She’d cut her hand on one of the shards and it stung terribly, but Morrigan cried more about her trinket being broken than the pain she felt in her palm. It was still bleeding, yet Morrigan didn’t want to return to her mother for healing and even more reprimand.
The ground was a little damp underneath her legs and the smell of the swamp comforted Morrigan a little, as did the buzzing of insects and the rustling of leaves around her. Overhead the sky was grey and heavy with rain. If it started to rain now, Morrigan thought, it would be even worse to return home sopping wet and pathetic and freezing, yet she knew she would sit here and wait the rain out before returning.
For childish, stubborn moments she envisioned herself running away to find her own hut in the wild, to live as far away from her mother as possible—but the truth was that she was scared and knew too little to survive on her own. Often had she cursed the fact that human children needed so much time until they became independent from their parents and their care. It went much faster for animals, many of which could walk only hours after birth and hunt for themselves in the span of months.
Yet here she was, a child in a bush, crying and holding a broken mirror, helpless and vulnerable like a deer that had just been born instead of a person that had spent twelve summers in this godforsaken world already.
“Are you hurt?” asked a voice from the bush next to her and Morrigan startled so heavily that she gasped and crawled away, which caused her hair to get tangled in brambles. The mirror almost slipped out of her grasp as she did. An elven girl squatted right there in the hideout behind Morrigan and she’d been so quiet that Morrigan, in her pitiful crying, hadn’t heard her. Flemeth’s voice echoed in her mind, asking what would have happened if that little girl had been a Templar instead.
“Leave me alone,” she snapped and wiped at her eyes, holding the mirror even tighter. The girl cocked her head. She had brown skin and eyes that were almost black, a mop of hair that looked as though she cut it herself and a big smile with a tooth gap right between the front teeth.
“Does that hurt? Did you cut yourself?” the girl asked and crawled deeper into the bush with her which was the opposite of what Morrigan wanted. The girl was skinny and dressed all in green which made for excellent camouflage amidst the shrubbery. Morrigan could see various scrapes and bruises on her knees, ankles and arms, as if she was playing around in the brambles without a care in the world.
“That is none of your concern.”
Morrigan turned her nose up at her, trying to look as though she hadn’t been crying at all even though her eyes felt puffy and her nose was probably red from how much she’d wiped it. It was so undignified to be seen like this by anyone, especially a stranger.
The girl pulled a leather bag into her lap and sat down on the ground cross-legged before she started rummaging around inside it.
“I have some elfroot! We always carry some in case someone gets hurt,” the stranger said and produced a small leather pouch with an herb that smelled familiar to some of the salves her mother had at home. For a skinned knee or the bite of a scared animal. Morrigan stared down at the cut in her hand and then at the leather pouch before looking at the girl’s face, trying to parse if there was any malicious intent there. The girl just blinked at her with huge, brown eyes.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Morrigan asked and grabbed the pouch—strictly because she didn’t want to hear any more lessons from her mother once she returned home and had to reveal that the stupid, pointless mirror cut her palm.
The girl shrugged.
“You were crying. I just wanted to help. The Keeper says when you find a wounded animal you should help.”
Morrigan gasped in offense.
“I am not a wounded animal!”
“Well, sort of! People are just a kind of animal!”
Morrigan opened the pouch and got some of the elfroot out of it to press against the cut on her palm. It immediately soothed the pain and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. The broken mirror sank onto her lap once she stopped clutching it so tightly and the girl look at it with quizzical eyes.
“Aw, man. That’s so pretty. I’m sorry you broke it. Is that why you were crying?”
Morrigan sniffed and turned her head away.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“Were too!”
“Was not!”
The girl snorted and shook her head as she watched Morrigan fiddle with the elfroot.
“It’s better when you chew it beforehand,” she said and Morrigan glared at her. She rarely ever spoke to other people and felt out of her depths, which made her feel flustered and angry even more than she was feeling already about the mirror her mother smashed.
“I know what I am doing,” Morrigan hissed and the girl merely shrugged and sat there, watching Morrigan pressing the dry leaves against her palm. “Why are you in this bush?”
“We talked about this. ‘Cause I heard you crying. These big ears are good for hearing, you know? And you’re in this bush ‘cause you’re hiding with your broken mirror.”
Morrigan didn’t like this girl. She didn’t like anyone, she never wanted to talk to anyone else ever again, least of all her mother. Maybe in a few years she could build her own hut in the swamp somewhere and live there, unbothered by humans and elves. Wolves and spiders never annoyed her this much. Yes, Morrigan preferred the company of animals. They weren’t as cruel, they weren’t as annoying, they never looked at her like they knew everything and she knew nothing.
She hissed when the stem of one of the dried leaves poked the cut. Pointedly ignoring the eyeroll from the girl opposite her, she shifted the leaf a little bit. There was no way she was going to continue crying in front of this stranger. Maybe she could spook her with some magic, make her go away so Morrigan could enjoy her peace again. Just her and the broken trinket she had been foolishly taken with.
“It’s a really pretty mirror,” the girl said and scooted a little closer. “I’m sorry it got broken.”
The words made Morrigan’s heart sting because they were kind and earnest and no one had ever spoken to her in this manner. She lowered the dry leaves and her head and just stared at the golden frame of it, gently glistening in a dapple of sunlight reaching into the bushes.
“Here, come on. You should let me help. I know what I’m doing. The Keeper says I’ve been getting really good with bandages!”
Morrigan almost fell backwards in her attempt to crawl away from the encroaching stranger, but before she could hiss a curse or blast a spell, the girl had taken Morrigan’s hand in hers and stuffed some of the leaves into her mouth.
“We hafto waf it firft,” she said around a mouthful of herbs and rummaged around her bag, producing a waterskin. Morrigan stared as she dunked the whole thing over Morrigans hand, washing the blood and bits of dried Elfroot away before inspecting it, maybe for leftover mirror shards. Then she reached up to her mouth and produced the chewed-on herbs, now all soggy and mushy. It made Morrigan grimace which in turn made the girl laugh, showing off her tooth gap.
“Don’t move for a second, I need a bandage”, she proclaimed and went back into her bag. It seemed as though she had an entire household stuffed away in that thing. Morrigan found herself looking at the girl curiously, now that the shock and the mistrust had somewhat calmed. That haircut really was terrible, but Morrigan found that she quite liked the tooth gap and the big smile. If Flemeth knew she would have another tirade coming, that much was certain.
The way the girl cradled Morrigan’s hand was so tender and careful that it made her eyes sting again. Morrigan felt a hot rush of embarrassment about it, about this terrible display of weakness. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched this gently, with honest intent to help. Certainly, her mother would tell her that being moved by such things is folly. And yet Morrigan found herself staring at the space where the brown skin of the girl contrasted against her pale fingers.
“Got it!”
“Do you have a name?” Morrigan asked, surprising herself with the question and immediately feeling her cheeks darken.
The girl laughed again.
“What a silly question. Everyone has a name,” she proclaimed. “I’m Reena.”
Morrigan looked back at the mirror and thought that Reena was a pretty name, even though she wasn’t supposed to find things pretty. Pretty was nonsensical, pretty was irrelevant. Pretty was for vain, stupid people who didn’t know what actually mattered in life.
“Hello? Are you still there?”
Morrigan blinked and stared down at her hand, now neatly bandaged with a small knot that looked like someone who really knew what they were doing had made it.
“I asked if you also have a name,” Reena repeated, cocking her head. It made her look like a confused pigeon.
“Morrigan,” Morrigan said after a moment’s pause. She stared at the bandage some more, a piece of kindness in an unkind world.
“Oooh, that’s so pretty!” Reena exclaimed with another big smile and it made Morrigan’s face burn. “Here! I have to go, but you can have this. It’s not as nice as your mirror, but I made it all by myself!”
Morrigan blinked in surprise as a small, soft object was pressed into her palm. Reena stuffed all the things back into her bag that she had taken out of it, looking over her shoulder briefly. Morrigan could swear that her big ears twitched for a moment. Then she lowered her gaze to the object in her hand. It was a small bracelet, made from countless tiny knots in dark red and brown. Maybe it was some kind of charm or superstitious token, but Morrigan found herself closing her hand around it, her heart stumbling in her chest much the same way as it did when she first got a glimpse of that mirror which now lay forgotten and broken in her lap.
“Dareth shiral, Morrigan!” Reena called and before Morrigan could say anything else she was gone, disappeared in an instant just the same way she appeared without Morrigan noticing. She must have heard something, maybe someone calling for her, that made her leave. The silence stretched around Morrigan now, somehow bigger than it was before Reena appeared in this silly hideout. Morrigan put the mirror aside and opened her palm again to examine the small gift.
No one had ever given her gift before.
Wearing it was unthinkable, lest her mother found and destroyed it. So Morrigan tucked it away into one of her pockets, curling her fingers around it. It felt like a dangerous thing, a secret she shouldn’t keep. It also felt like a warm talisman which might be even more dangerous than a secret. All that mattered was survival and this little thing would not help her with that—and yet her heart fluttered in its cage like a stupid, hopeful little bird.
*
Morrigan had stalked the intruders for a while now, tracking them like a predator might track its prey. They were an odd bunch, three human men and one elven woman. The man with the biggest weapon looked like he was about to soil himself, which Morrigan found typical. One might think that a big sword like this spoke of confidence, but apparently the man had one thing or another to compensate for.
Her gaze lingered on the woman who stood out like a sore thumb among the men, all much bigger and beefier than her. Despite the difference in size she moved with the confidence of someone who was used to traversing the wild, her steps impressively quietly and her eyes sharp and ever-moving. There was a strange tug to her memory as she took in the brown skin, the long ears, the eyes that were almost black.
It was only as the strange group approached the ruined tower with the Grey Warden cache hidden inside it that Morrigan decided to make herself known, now feeling curious to know these people’s business. Unbidden her mother’s voice came to her, proclaiming her unnecessary need for dramatics as she descended the stone slope towards the strangers.
“Well, well, well… what have we here?”
The woman reacted fastest, immediately pulling two daggers out of their sheaths at her side as she whirled around, facing Morrigan. The dark eyes looking up at her seemed familiar. Sharp features decorated with black vallaslin—the mark of Sylaise if Morrigan was not mistaken—and a curved nose, shaved hair and…
“Morrigan?”
A tooth gap right between the front teeth. Morrigan felt her composure waver. Years and years ago when she sat crying in a bush a kind girl crawled into her hiding space and wrapped a bandage around Morrigan’s hand. She’d never forgotten it, never stopped thinking about it no matter how foolish she knew herself to be. The cut had left a scar, an eternal reminder of what had transpired that day, and Morrigan was embarrassed to admit that she had kept that silly little trinket all these years.
“You know this woman?” one of the men asked Reena as she put her daggers back into their sheaths.
“We’ve met before,” Reena answered and despite the fact that she looked different now—of course she would, what a ridiculous thought to have—and held herself much different than the child that Morrigan once met, there was still a certain air about her that Morrigan recognized. A reckless curiosity, an innate kindness that Morrigan didn’t understand any more than she had all those years ago.
Reena’s face broke out into a grin and Morrigan felt her heart stumble. It was an unforgivable lapse in reason, to react to a stranger like this, a random woman who Morrigan spent but bare minutes with in her childhood. The woven bracelet was tied neatly onto the inside of her skirt and it almost felt as though it was warm against her skin in this moment.
“Don’t answer her, she looks Chasind and that means others may be nearby,” one of the men said and Morrigan rolled her eyes.
“Oh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?” Morrigan replied and crossed her arms over her chest. For some reason she felt incredibly self-conscious of where to put her arms, of how to move her body, of what to say. Talking to these men would have posed no problem to her at all, but now here was this unbidden connection to her younger self that Morrigan had long since buried in the swamp.
“Much like a clan of Dalish elves might,” Reena said to the man standing next to her who immediately seemed flustered. Morrigan couldn’t believe how pitiful men were.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”
Morrigan decided that she was bored of this man’s stammering already and focused on Reena instead. It seemed like such an unlikely coincidence to meet her here, after all this time. Morrigan appraised her toned upper arms, the scars she didn’t have as a child, the sharpness of her gaze that had been much softer and not yet hardened by the world. Not that Morrigan could relate, of course. She had been hardened by the world the second she was born into it. Her mother made quite sure of that.
“She’s a witch of the wilds, she is! She’ll turn us into toads!”
Morrigan was about to say something when Reena cut in, eyes a little bigger now.
“You could do that? I’ve always wanted to be a toad!”
Morrigan was so taken aback that she forgot what she’d wanted to say next. The words died on her tongue, somewhere on their way to her lips. The three men stared at Reena as though she had completely lost her mind and this time Morrigan could even understand why. Although she of course had been a toad, a spider, a wolf… She understood the desire to become one with nature, to see through an animal’s eyes, even though a toad might not seem like the most obvious choice. She found herself wondering why Reena specifically enjoyed toads so much, but this was hardly the moment to ask her.
Morrigan had not planned to give these Grey Wardens anything, especially not after they’d behaved so pitifully. But Reena had once shown Morrigan a kindness, so Morrigan could only assume that it was proper etiquette to repay it in kind. These people are clearly here for whatever her mother removed from this chest many moons ago and only seconds later they confirmed her suspicions.
“’T was not I who removed them,” she informed the men after listening to their accusations with annoyance and boredom. “’T was my mother, in fact.”
Reena blinked but then her face lit up as if those were splendid news which Morrigan decided to forgive her, since she’d never met Morrigan’s mother and therefore couldn’t have the slightest idea about how unpleasant it would be to rectify this.
“Can you take us to her?”
“What a sensible suggestion. At least one of you has a functional mind,” Morrigan said and reveled at the annoyed looks of Reena’s meat-headed companions. “Follow me if you will.”
Morrigan would have liked some quiet to think about this unlikely meeting after so many years, but she didn’t get the chance because Reena caught up with her immediately, despite her legs being much shorter than Morrigan’s.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Reena said with another one of those grins that made Morrigan’s insides feel very strange indeed. She examined the feeling of warmth and nervousness, something she did not appreciate at all. It made her feel out of her depths, an emotion she thought to have left behind in her childhood. Now she was an adult, yet somehow seeing Reena grin at her made her feel twelve years old all over again. She never wanted to go back to that time in her life. Being a child had been horrible.
“Nor did I. ‘Tis highly unlikely,” Morrigan admitted, glancing at Reena sideways. She found herself curious when she didn’t want to be. The voices of those three men behind them disappeared entirely as Morrigan observed the lines of the facial tattoos, the way Reena’s face had changed over the years as much as her own probably had, too.
It would have been foolish to pretend that Morrigan hadn’t thought about her, in the privacy of her own mind. Yet Morrigan found herself justifying why she had been mulling their interaction over all those years, why she’d kept the little, useless trinket that was of no use to her at all.
“Are you still living in this swamp? I guess I never really knew where you lived, really,” Reena said and looked around curiously. “Hey, can you actually turn people into toads?”
Morrigan should probably be warier around this virtual stranger. She met her once, a whole lifetime ago, and even then she hadn’t actually known her. Against her better judgement Morrigan found herself thinking that Reena had shown her true colors back then. There had been no gain for her, nothing she asked of Morrigan in exchange for the help and the bandage. The scar was still there and itched from time to time.
Morrigan could only assume that her mother delighted in this fact, considering how she had wanted to teach Morrigan an important life lesson by smashing her mirror.
The familiarity of the swamp around them calmed Morrigan’s nerves a little, considering that she was about to introduce Reena to her mother. It was childish to think that Flemeth might somehow know about their connection, might somehow realize all of a sudden that Morrigan had known a single moment of kindness and still carried a useless trinket around with her after all these years. Undoubtedly her mother would destroy the trinket immediately.
The fact that Morrigan couldn’t do anything about it made her feel angry. She still lived with her mother. She still hadn’t gained her freedom.
“I could, yet I do not see the necessity just yet. Though I would not mind to exchange the idle chatter of your cowardly companions for the sounds of a toad,” she said and it made Reena laugh.
“Alistair is alright. I think. For a shem, at least. The other two have been getting on my nerves, so if you could start with one of them…”
Reena seemed to have no fear of Morrigan. It made Morrigan feel a certain kind of way. At first she thought it was offense because she was someone to be feared. She was competent, cunning, resourceful. But did she want Reena to be afraid of her?
“Say the word and I shall rid you of their annoyance,” Morrigan found herself saying which earned her another laugh.
Seeing Reena stand before her mother with that fearless expression of hers made Morrigan’s insides churn. She was naïve to be fearless which made her less worthy of respect, surely. Morrigan searched within her to see the respect waning, but found no trace of it lessening. No. Instead it seemed to grow spitefully, against Morrigan’s wishes. She barely listened to the conversation, finding herself uninterested in what these men had to say because they flung the same accusations at her mother that they had already insulted Morrigan with.
She wanted to get this over this, to be rid of these men and to be rid of the sentimentality that meeting Reena again had brought out in her. Sentimentality was weakness.
Yet she had been weak for years, keeping this bracelet.
Her mother was right to call her foolish.
Morrigan watched her mother hand over the Grey Warden treaties to Reena who looked down at them for a moment before tucking them away into her bag. A relieved breath escaped Morrigan because finally it was done and dealt with and she could go back to her life.
This changed nothing.
Meeting Reena again meant nothing.
“Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blight’s threat is greater than they realize,” her mother said which pulled Morrigan out of her own mind and back into the present. She turned her head to look at her mother, then back at Reena who cocked her head curiously. It reminded Morrigan so much of that little girl inside the bush that she found her cheeks heating up. Ridiculous.
“I will keep that in mind,” Reena said and Morrigan couldn’t tell if she meant it or just thought her mother an old lady spouting nonsense.
“Time for you to go then,” she said quickly, just in case her mother would take offense. Her mother, of course, accepted none of her antics.
“Do not be ridiculous, girl. These are your guests.”
Morrigan wanted to say that she was not a little girl anymore. Oh, how she hated it when her mother still called her a girl after all these years. Despite how hard she tried, there was never even an ounce of respect, as if she hadn’t earned it. As if she wasn’t worth it. Morrigan took a deep breath and refused to look at Reena again.
“Oh. Very well, I will show you out of the woods. Follow me.”
She strode past them and away from Flemeth, whose gaze Morrigan could feel between her shoulder blades. Only when Morrigan could be sure that Flemeth couldn’t see their little group anymore did she allow herself to glance at Reena again. It was very strange to find her gaze drawn to someone else. As a child Morrigan had known curiosity about other people, but her mother had made sure to drag Morrigan away from it, no matter how much she kicked and screamed about it.
It had been many years since she’d felt that tickle at the back of her mind, that nagging feeling of wanting a closer look at something. And it felt different, too, but Morrigan couldn’t pinpoint why which annoyed her to no end.
Sometimes, when her mother talked about one of her countless lovers, Morrigan had listened and wondered what it might feel like to feel physically drawn to someone. Or mentally, really. She had not wanted to consider these things in combination with her mother, but all her mother’s lovers had been men. Morrigan wondered.
Wondered and felt foolish now.
She was about to say goodbye to the person walking next to her and then she wouldn’t ever see Reena again, so these musings were just as useless as all her childish curiosity had been. Considering whether or not it was possible to be attracted to another woman as a woman was pointless and ridiculous. What would same sex attraction do for nature? Nothing. It was idle pondering, all brought on by something as silly as one act of useless kindness that was thrust upon her when she was still too young to understand how the world worked.
“You’re cute when you’re brooding,” Reena remarked and Morrigan was so taken aback that she almost missed one of the stepping stones across one of the shallow, murky ponds of swamp water.
“Excuse me?”
Reena laughed and it was such a foreign sound here in the Korcari Wilds. Morrigan wondered how different her life would have turned out to be had she been surrounded by laughter like this. A weaker, more pathetic version of who she was today, surely.
“You have this wrinkle between your brows when you’re thinking. It’s cute.”
Reena truly wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of Morrigan. Never once in her life had Morrigan been called ‘cute’. It was terribly offensive, yet somehow made her blood pump faster and her cheeks heat up. She was so flustered and unsure of what to say that she almost missed the correct path that’d take them to the edge of the wilds.
Reena didn’t seem to mind that Morrigan didn’t respond. This woman with the big grin would now go out and become a Grey Warden or die trying and even if she survived becoming a Warden she would most likely die in the battle to come. No matter how competent a warrior she might be, she would be trampled and ripped apart by the Darkspawn horde and Morrigan would never see her again.
She reached down to her skirt and touched the knitted bracelet for a moment and then, with what felt like an utterly ridiculous amount of willpower, she pulled it free of its fastening and turned to Reena, holding it out to her. Reena’s dark brown eyes widened at the sight of it which made Morrigan acutely aware of the admittance of weakness she was showing this stranger. Having kept this silly trinket all these years, Reena must think her a fool.
To Morrigan’s utter horror there was a rather gentle smile spreading over Reena’s sharp features as she reached out a hand and touched the bracelet. Her fingers brushed against Morrigan’s and the touch of warm skin on skin sent a shiver down Morrigan’s spine. This was ridiculous.
“You kept it,” was all that Reena said. No jokes, no ridicule. Morrigan handed it to her and crossed her arms in front of her chest before turning her head to the side.
“You go into battle soon; you should take it.”
There was a foolish moment in which Morrigan waited with bated breath for another laugh and to her utter and complete offense she was not disappointed—Reena tilted her head back and laughed, showing off that gap between her front teeth again.
“You think this will keep me from dying?” she asked and hearing it out loud was exactly as ridiculous as it sounded in Morrigan’s head. She opened her mouth to say something flippant and aloof, something that would make her seem less childish and immature. It wasn’t like she cared. But before she could think of any words Reena was already fastening the bracelet around her wrist.
Not the way Morrigan had worn it in secret, hidden beneath her clothes so her mother wouldn’t see.
“Thank you. I think seeing you again was a good omen,” Reena said with a little chuckle and turned her head over her shoulder to look at her male companions who were whispering among themselves, shooting glances at Reena and Morrigan. Reena seemed unfazed as she turned back around.
No one had ever called Morrigan a good omen before. These men certainly thought she was the exact opposite. That shouldn’t make her feel anything.
It shouldn’t.
“We should really go,” the blonde one called over to Reena and she grinned at Morrigan one last time before giving her a mock-salute like human soldiers usually did, turned around and marched off towards what was certain death. Morrigan watched her walk away, her eyes pinned on that stupid bracelet
What an idiotic gesture this had been.
How foolish she was.
Morrigan turned around and walked back towards her mother’s hut, thinking about bracelets and tooth gaps and the utter irrelevance of kindness in this world.