Title: Lessons
Rating: M
Fandom: Dragon Age
Pairing: Morrigan/F!Cousland
Summary: There’s a lot Morrigan doesn’t understand about human society and a lot Elissa is willing to teach her.
Notes: 2093 words.
Elissa spends more evenings sitting in Morrigan’s little camp space than around the fire with Alister and the others. Morrigan rarely, if ever, ventures away from her camp. Why should she? She is wandering around in this land, the camp is as close to home as she can manage without returning to the Wilds. And seeing how it has been overtaken by darkspawn, she is more attached to her little shelter, than ever.
Not that she will admit it. Or even think about it.
She has no doubt that Flemeth is fine. If she has not already fled to the north, then she is probably making friends with the darkspwan and trading with them. Flemeth always survives, and so will she, Morrigan decides. She has renewed purpose now, the sooner she can help Elissa stop the archdemon, the sooner the darkspawn will leave her home and she can return to it.
She wonders if Elissa would come with her, once all is said and done. Given how often the young warden spends with her, she thinks it possible.
“Can I ask you something?”
“If you must.”
“Will you return to the Wilds, when we’re done, when it’s safe?”
Morrigan bites back a response about the Wilds never being safe, and does not care to analyse why, but it appears their thoughts are the same this evening.
“I will,” she says, confident in her reply. “I continue to find much of human society puzzling, even more so since we left the Wilds together.”
“Really?”
“Indeed, for example, the touching, why all the touching and for a simple greeting.”
Elissa frowns.
“Like a handshake?”
“To begin with yes, what is the point of touching my hand I find it an offensive intrusion, there are many-“ she pauses when she realizes Elissa is laughing. Laughing at her. “Am I so amusing in my inability to understand humans?” she demands.
“No, Morrigan, sorry,” Elissa says, “you’re a little amusing,” she admits.
Morrigan huffs and turns to enter her shelter, unwilling to deal with this particular human any longer. Elissa grabs her thin wrist, holding gently, rubbing her thumb over the skin on the inside of her wrist. The touch is not unpleasant, Morrigan thinks, but still unwelcome.
“Touch is a language,” Elissa says softly, dropping her arm. “It says much.”
“Hmmm, so I had surmised.”
She continues into her shelter and Elissa follows, the warrior taking up the bulk of the space and crowding her somewhat. Morrigan values her space, emotional and physical, it is the reason she is camped away from the others after all. However, for all the intricacies of human interaction and language she has missed, she often wonders how much humans themselves even know. Her body language, she assumes, and her expression is not one of welcome. Nor has she vocalised this fact, but Elissa has either missed this or is ignoring her.
She doesn’t do any more, simply moves to sit on her bed. Elissa follows, sitting on the ground until the witch shifts, inviting her to sit on the soft furs she sleeps on.
“It’s supposed to be,” Elissa pauses, and Morrigan notes as she flicks her tongue out over her bottom lip that it is something she does often when she is thinking of the right word to use. She does not expect, “pleasurable,” to come out of her mouth after a long moment.
“Pleasurable?” Morrigan says, arching one thin dark eyebrow. “A handshake?”
“Even a handshake,” she repeats with a smile. She reaches out her hand, holding it as if to shake Morrigan’s hand and waits. Curious, as she was born and raised to be, she takes it.
Elissa smiles, flushing a little and she wonders what the young woman is thinking about.
Who is she thinking about?
“It starts with a handshake,” Elissa says, demonstrating, shaking Morrigan’s hand gently. “Although this is in Ferelden, Leliana insists that in Orlais, they skip a few steps.”
“From what I have learnt of the bard, this I can believe,” she replies, pulling her hand gently away.
“It starts, with a handshake,” Elissa repeats herself, ignoring Morrigan’s comment. “But, that’s all it is, a start. And sometimes, sometimes you’ll never meet another person again, never touch them again. But often you do, over and over and then..” Another pause and she reaches out to Morrigan again.
Still curious, Morrigan offers her arm and Elissa shuffles closer.
“Then sometimes you clasp each other’s arms,” she does so, wrapping her hand around Morrigan’s upper arm. The witch does the same, but unlike Elissa, she cannot quite get her hand around the warrior’s bicep. “Sometimes you go in for a quick hug.”
Unexpectedly she pulls Morrigan close and the witch falls into her arms with a soft oof. Elissa is all hard muscles, and she is not used to it on a woman. It is not unpleasant, she decided, as Elissa wraps her arms around Morrigan and holds her tight for a moment. She pulls back then, but only a little, their faces too close for Morrigan to be able to focus at first, Elissa doesn’t allow her much time before she starts to speak once more, voice even lower and huskier now.
“When you know each other well, you offer a kiss on the cheek in greeting.”
Morrigan holds her breath, unsure why, and Elissa moves slowly to press a whisper-soft kiss on her cheek. She pauses there, before pulling back once more, this time releasing her hold on the witch and sitting back a little. She is smiling, a little flush on her dark cheeks.
“See, not so bad,” she says. “Almost nice.”
Morrigan doesn’t reply at first and simply considers the feel of Elissa’s body, her lips on her cheek.
Her touch.
Elissa gets to her knees, moves to stand and Morrigan reaches out to stop her.
“Is there more?” she asks. Elissa smiles once more, and Morrigan sees a hint of a smirk on the young warrior’s face. She ignores it though, in favour of an answer to her question. And answer she never expected to ask. Of anyone.
“Not between friends,” she says.
“I see,” Morrigan replies, considering her next words carefully, hard to do when she is curious and wanting and her heart is beating too hard. “And if we were more than friends?”
She expects Elissa’s full smirk at her words, but is surprised when she reaches out to cup Morrigan’s cheek, her smile soft and welcoming on her full lips. Morrigan is no stranger to considerations of the beauty of a woman, or even of the beauty of the warrior before her but she had not expected her wayward thoughts to get her anywhere. Like many of her ‘flights of fancy’ as Flemeth often put it, she has expected something else to pique her interest and focus on.
Or perhaps, without Flemeth shouting at her to concentrate, she is free to focus on whatever, or whoever she likes, for as long as she likes. She grew up with some freedom, but always, always she was on Flemeth’s long leash.
She leans into Elissa’s touch, trying not to sigh at the feel of a rough thumb on her face. She does close her eyes and is surprised when the other woman presses her lips against hers. All other thoughts leave her and she kisses back, tries to take charge but finds herself pushed back onto the soft furs instead of on top.
They kiss again, Elissa’s hand in her hair, pulling it loose and the other pushing underneath her robes and down to her hips. Her hands are rough, but Morrigan likes it and moans when she feels a hand cup her breast, a thumb over her nipple.
“How’s that?” Elissa asks, voice low and husky again. Morrigan dislikes much of how she feels, there is anxiety with the uncertainty of her emotions and thoughts around Elissa but finds she does not mind being underneath the warrior.
“An excellent demonstration,” she replies and Elissa laughs, the rumble of it vibrating through Morrigan. “But I feel there is more.” She punctuates her words by running a hand down the warrior’s back and over her backside. Elissa grins, and pulls back, so she can pull what few clothes Morrigan wears off her body. Morrigan lets her, for a moment, before pushing her away to finish the job, and Elissa rocks back on her heels and watches.
She is pleased by the way the other woman watches her, not because it means she will get her way, but because she truly desires the other woman’s gaze on her. She wants to be wanted by this woman but isn’t too willing to delve into the feelings behind it too much.
Not that Elissa gives her chance, stripping off her own clothes and pressing Morrigan back down with her body, skin against skin suddenly so hot. Elissa starts to explore her and she can’t, won’t stop her, lets her explore her body with her hands and mouth, taking her time. She urges the warrior on, tangling her fingers in her hair, pulling loose the braids.
The touch of Elissa’s hands, the weight of her body on top of her own, makes her shudder and she tries to wrap her legs around her, to pull her even closer if possible but Elissa is much stronger than she, holding herself above her a fraction. Morrigan groans in protest but the other woman simply smiles at her, before kissing her soundly once more.
Elissa’s hand slips between Morrigan’s thighs, and she cups the witch’s sex, feeling her wetness. Morrigan gasps, her body trembling under Elissa’s touch, momentarily embarrassed by her reactions to this woman, this damn woman. Elissa doesn’t hesitate in finding her clit, gently stroking and Morrigan manages to hook one leg around the other woman, pulling her closer at least on one side.
One finger, then a second, presses inside of her and her tongue traces down Morrigan’s neck and this, this is the kind of touch Morrigan can accept. Especially when Elissa moves her hand, and thrusts into her hard to make her cry out a little too loudly in the campsite. Not that she cares for her reputation. She only cares that Elissa keeps moving. She digs her nails into Elissa’s back, making the other woman hiss and hesitate.
“Don’t stop,” she hisses and Elissa complies with the command. She spirals, too quickly, she thinks but cannot stop now. Her warrior, the warrior, keeps up a steady rhythm for long minutes until she pauses, shifts, and curls her fingers.
Morrigan does not recognise the sound that comes out of her, not the first time, nor the second time when Elissa repeats the curling of her fingers. It is a sob, she thinks, she is unsure and has no time to temper her reaction before another unknown noise falls from her as Elissa combines the curling motion with a swipe of her thumb over her clit.
Elissa kisses her then, and Morrigan is greedy for every touch and kisses her back. When she comes, she does so hard, snapping almost with a soft scream. Her entire body is on fire, and it’s a feeling she knows too well, the burning but behind it is a new pleasure she wants to feel again and again.
Elissa soothes her through it, slowing down until she falls to the furs by Morrigan’s side and pulls the witch in close.
Morrigan is aware she is shushing her as if she were a startled child but is unable to chastise her. She cannot calm her racing heart, or relieve the pressure on her lungs.
After a little while, when she is able to open her eyes again, she finds Elissa propped up on one elbow, looking at her with that soft smile on her face, eyes dark and focused on Morrigan.
“Okay?” she asks. Morrigan nods, a little more broken than she would like. She brushes it aside.
“A most, instructional lesson,” she manages to get out and Elissa laughs, pulling some furs over them against the chill in the air. Morrigan isn’t even annoyed by the assumption she can stay. Not when her limbs are still not completely under her control again.
“There is more to show me, I presume?” she asks, arching an eyebrow anyway. Elissa simply kisses her.
“Lots more,” Elissa tells her and Morrigan decides she has been wrong about certain parts of human society.
Not that she is about to tell Elissa this.