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Even after weeks on the road with her, Morrigan still feels she doesn’t know how to talk to Kallian. She comes over nearly every night now when they make camp, to sit by her small fire asking questions. Morrigan answers her, haltingly.
Kallian unsettles her. Her large, dark eyes watch Morrigan’s face as she speaks. Her brow furrows as if she feels pity for her, but she smooths the expression away, tries to maintain a neutral face. Morrigan cannot tell what it is Kallian wants from her or, lately, if she even wants anything at all. If she is just seeking company, then surely Leliana is easier to speak with? Or Alistair?
Whenever they speak Morrigan finds herself becoming intensely aware of her body, of her actions. She finds herself becoming conscious of the sound of her voice, softening it so Kallian has to lean in. When she realised she was doing this she had leaned back at once, and spoke louder to cover the moment. She finds she has questions of her own forming behind her lips, about Kallian, about her past, about the expression she gets on her face sometimes, when she thinks no one is watching. She is unable to voice these things. Instead, she watches Kallian sometimes, and wonders.
They are camped by a small wood outside of Redcliff and Morrigan is watching Kallian talk with the others. They have pitched their tents and and eaten and it has grown dark. They set up watch schedules. Alistair is complaining that they could have stayed in Redcliffe castle but Kallian only says shortly that they ‘needed to move on.’ Morrigan assumes the elf was not comfortable spending the night in that castle, around all those humans. A grumbling Alistair agrees to take first watch. Kallian turns, and catches Morrigan watching her. She tilts her head, then claps Alistair on the arm and starts walking towards her. Morrigan keeps staring at her as she moves forward, her form silhouetted against the large campfire behind her, the light haloing her short hair. She is in a shirt and leggings, her armour off for the night. At her waist her twin swords hang from a leather belt, their hilts gleaming in the firelight.
Morrigan fights the urge to turn from her, to pretend to tend her own small fire, and instead keeps her eyes on her. Quietly, she lets out a long breath, and lifts her chin upward. When Kallian reaches her, she manages to raise an eyebrow, and pull her lips into a smirk.
‘Checking up on me again, Warden?’ she says.
Kallian smiles. ‘I just wanted to see how you are. You did a good thing today, going into the fade for Connor.’
Morrigan sniffs. ‘Well, since you decided we were to be heroic, I felt I should join in the spirit of things.’
‘Morrigan, you saved that boy’s life. I know you didn’t think helping Redcliffe was the right choice, but you still did it. I just wanted to thank you for that.’
Morrigan doesn’t know how to respond to this, so instead she draws in a breath, and looks into the fire for a moment. When she looks back, Kallian is watching her, her face carefully neutral. She sighs.
‘Well, since you are here anyway, I do have one complaint.’
‘Oh?’
Morrigan leans in, lets herself smile. ‘Yes. You keep spending your eveings here, talking with me, but you you never stay late. ‘Tis cold in my tent, all alone.’
Kallian’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and Morrigan takes a momentary delight in surprising her. Kallian swallows, but when she speaks her voice is steady. ‘And what did you want me to do about that?’
Morrigan chuckles. ‘I thought you might join me. I find you very warm.’
Kallian grins. ‘Well,’ she says, and takes a step forward, and then another, untill she is standing very close to Morrigan. No longer smiling, she leans up, her mouth close to Morrigan’s. ‘I’m always happy to help, you know me.’
Morrigan closes her eyes for a moment, feeling Kallian’s breath on her lips. ‘Then let us waste no more time with foolish talk,’ she says, looking down into Kallian’s eyes. Morrigan leans down, closing the slight space between them, and kisses her. Kallian puts a hand on Morrigan’s shoulder as if to steady herself. She leans upwards into the kiss, rising on her toes. Morrigan tentatively puts a hand on her lower back and Kallian’s other hand goes to her waist. Kallian pushes open Morrigan’s lips with her own and Morrigan feels a shooting warmth that seems to flow down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. No longer tentative, she pulls Kallian against her, pressing them together. They stumble backwards toward the tent.
They push their way through the tent’s opening. Kallian’s fingers are sliding underneath the purple fabric of Morrigan’s robes, touching the skin of her waist. Morrigan takes her hand and pushes it higher, guiding her to her breasts. Kallian smiles at this, her teeth accidentally touching Morrigan’s lips as they kiss. Morrigan takes this as an invitation, and bites Kallian’s bottom lip in return, causing her to gasp, and her hand, which had been stroking over Morrigan’s breasts, squeezes. This time it is Morrigan who gasps. Her fingers reach down to undo Kallian’s belt, and it hits the floor of the tent, the two swords thudding on the ground.
Morrigan bends her down, guiding them down to the bed roll spread out on the floor. She lies on top of Kallian, pressing her into the ground. Their kissing is not tentative at all now, Morrigan biting Kallian’s lip, their tongues touching frantically, mouths opening against each other. Kallian is gripping her waist with her hands, her breathing fast and heavy against Morrigan’s mouth. As she kicks off her boots her hands fumble with Morrigan’s clothes, taking off her shoulder pauldron and upper garments with ease, but coming to a halt against the black leathers covering her legs. Morrigan stands up to remove her remaining clothes. Kallian pulls her shirt over her head, and wriggles out of her leggings. Morrigan kneels down again when she is finally naked. She stares at her, at her short, muscular body, at her brown skin marked with scars but still beautiful, and after a moment she realises Kallian is looking at her with similar awe in her eyes. Morrigan pauses, unsure, but Kallian reaches out for her, taking her hands and guiding her back down to the bedroll so that they lay side by side. She lets their curled hands rest between them, against her chest.
‘Are you alright?’ Kallian asks quietly.
Morrigan can feel Kallian’s heartbeat, fast against the back of her hand. Instead of answering she rolls Kallian beneath her and looks down at her, before moving her mouth to Kallian’s ear.
‘I said I would prefer not to waste time with talk,’ Morrigan says, biting the edge of it. Kallian draws in a shaky breath, but when she opens her mouth as if to speak again Morrigan kisses her, her hands moving across Kallian’s bare skin, one finding her breasts, the other seeking lower. Kallian makes a noise in the back of her throat, her hands gripping the bare skin of Morrigan’s back, her short nails scratching slightly, leaving warm trails. Morrigan reaches her hand down, between Kallian’s legs, her fingers slipping between the wet skin of Kallian’s lips to touch her. She circles her finger around and over her clit, and is rewarded with Kallian moaning quietly, pressing her face into Morrigan’s neck and almost whimpering at her touch. Morrigan continues to stroke her, and Kallian’s hips start to jerk and shake with her movements. Morrigan smiles, feeling in control. After a moment she moves her hand away and begins to kiss Kallian’s neck instead.
‘Please don’t stop,’ Kallian says hoarsely.
Morrigan only smirks and moves downward, pressing her lips against Kallian’s belly, and then her the curve of her hip.
‘I had something else in mind,’ she says, parting Kallian’s knees with her hands, and crouching close to her.
‘Oh,’ Kallian says breathlessly, letting her head drop back.
Morrigan kisses the inside of her thigh, and runs one hand between her legs, spreading her lips. Kallian is breathing fast, now, and when Morrigan finally dips her head down and lets her tongue glide across her she whimpers again. Morrigan begins to lick her in earnest, letting her tongue flick backwards and forwards against her delicate skin. Kallian’s breathing goes ragged, and she moans louder, making inarticulate noises into the air, her hands clenching in the blanket.
Kallian’s cries grow louder, and Morrigan wonder wryly if the the others in the camp are sleeping through this, but she is too immersed in what she is doing to really care. Kallian’s hips are trembling, and there are curses mixed in with her moaning now. She repeats the Maker’s name desperately, her hips rising slightly off the bedroll. Morrigan pushes her back down, holding her in place with her hands while she continues to lick at her. Kallian cries out, even louder this time. She comes gasping Morrigan’s name, and Morrigan feels a rush of satisfaction run through her. She keeps her mouth pressed against her untill the last moment before sitting up, looking down on Kallian with a fierce smile. Kallian looks up at her, her face, flushed, a sheen of sweat on her brow.
Morrigan wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and moves to lie next to her. Kallian wraps her arms around her, kissing her neck, and then lower, her lips caressing Morrigan’s breasts. Her hands slide down Morrigan’s sides, one lightly squeezing her arse, the other slipping down the front of her stomach to stroke between Morrigan’s thighs. Morrigan lets out a shaky breath. Kallian’s fingers are firm but gentle against her, sliding upon her wet skin with ease. Morrigan breathes faster, pressing her lips together. After a moment, Kallian stops. Morrigan frowns.
‘Get on top of me,’ Kallian says.
‘What?’
‘I want you to sit on my face. Please?’
Morrigan smiles. ‘I see.’ She rises, kneeling over Kallian. She moves up the bedroll to Kallian’s face, placing one leg either-side of her head, and looking down to see Kallian’s eyes studying her, before lifting her lips to Morrigan’s skin, and as she feels her tongue begin licking her she lets out a shaky breath that is almost a moan. Kallian’s hands grip her arse, holding Morrigan against her mouth. Morrigan relaxes, bracing her hands on her thighs and enjoying the sensation of being on top of Kallian, pressing herself down against Kallian’s head. Kallian’s tongue is soft and wet and so, so gentle against her. Morrigan makes a small, involuntary noise in the back of her throat. Kallian’s hands grip tighter on her buttocks and she presses her face into Morrigan, lips and tongue moving insistently. Morrigan breathes faster, her shaky breaths interspersed with soft moans, low in her throat. She tips her head back, her mouth opening as she stares at the canvas ceiling of the tent, letting inarticulate sounds escape her lips. Morrigan feels as if her face is growing hot, as if her skin is burning. When she comes she cries out wordlessly, managing not to say Kallian’s name aloud even as she repeats it in her head. After a moment she gets off her, and stretches out on the bedroll beside her.
They lie quitely there for a time. Kallian’s eyes drift closed. Morrigan studies her. She stares at the long scar below Kallian’s right breast, wondering how she got it. Kallian’s face relaxes completely in sleep in a way that it rearely does when she is awake. She rolls over, and Morrigan studies the smooth skin of her back. There is another scar across her shoulderblade, and Morrigan finds her hand reaching out, as if to touch it. She stops herself.
‘I would prefer you not sleep here,’ she says.
Kallian starts awake, then turns to face Morrigan, her face neutral. 'Alright,' she says, turning away to reach for her leggings. 'I need to relive Alistair of his watch anyway.' Morrigan doubts this but says nothing. Surely it it someone else's turn? Kallian would not have fallen asleep if she still had a job to do. Morrigan presses her lips together and rolls over, resisting the urge to watch her dress, or to ask her to stay.