Who: Leliana and Morrigan What: The witch needed shoes, and happened to find herself in Leliana's store. Awkwardness ensues? When: Late April Where: Shoegasm! Warnings: Loooow, just some awkwardness on Morrigan's part!
Shoegasm was a trendy boutique, with an inspired 1980’s sort of theme - it was fun, cheery, clearly had her baby bird’s touch and Leliana very much liked it. Hardly any change had been done when she took over the reigns of operations, except for maybe in the organizational aspect. This particular redhead (odd and murderous as she may be) had a method to her madness; a certain kind of perfectionist’s touch when it came to setting things up. It wasn’t a terrible trait to have when the store was one of a kind, and had competitors all around the area (other shoe chains to be specific) - but the glass slippers on display added a nice, whimsical touch.
They were authentic, too. Cindy’s dream gift that remained at the store, not for sale at all, and realistically they were painful to walk in. But it attracted many window shoppers out of curiosity and in turn, they browsed the selections and typically bought something. Discounts were available for those who were part of the unfortunate network where they all shared too much personal information, and by now Leliana had a good idea of who was who. She was quiet but paid attention, always collecting some kind of intel here and there for later use.
She was a low-key Spymaster nowadays, much less blood on her hands.
At the moment she was seated by the register, thumbing through a set of invoices from various vendors. Perhaps her hair was longer in this world, but everything else about her stayed the same - ivory skin that wasn’t completely unmarred (she had scars from that alternate reality dreamset, as a war prisoner), glittering blue eyes that could go from impish to dangerous at a drop of a hat. A cutesy style of fashion was retained; a simple sundress with accessories and shoes that could potentially become murder weapons.
It was efficient in the case of emergencies.
Morrigan was potentially having a crisis. She hesitated to say it was a midlife crisis as that would mean she’d only live to see 66, but that was besides the point. If she didn’t know better, she’d say she was possessed by some demon of happiness. Because clearly happiness was a demon and not a benevolent spirit. But that was mostly Morrigan’s inability to comprehend how to deal with actually being happy.
She was, for lack of a better word, a bitch in the dreams, and she had more or less carried that over into her life here. She wasn’t personable, she preferred to remain distanced from people. And yet here she was, suddenly having a girlfriend and not knowing what to do about it. Because Morrigan didn’t think her and happy went together, and she certainly doubted that she’d make a good girlfriend.
Yet even with that constant state of wondering what the hell was happening in her life, Morrigan was happy. There was a bounce in her step as she was running some errands. Also the newly injected happiness had allowed her to come up with a new potential solution for crafting an antidote to the Dreamshade that Killian had brought her. She was intending to pick up a couple plants and some seeds, but as she passed a shop window, she got distracted and stopped. She saw a pair of glass shoes. Intrigued, she went into the store, realizing it was a shoe shop. She could do with a new pair of heels that could be worn with some knock out dress for a date. It was probably fortunate that Morrigan was currently wearing a simple black dress. It covered more than the “robes” in her dreams did, and paired with heels and having her hair pulled into a messy bun with a pair of chopsticks stuck through it, she looked much classier than her dream self.
She browsed for a couple minutes before she finally noticed who was at the register. Oh Maker. Why did she have to come into Leliana’s shop? But it was too late to run out and pretend she was never here. And besides, they had agreed to be cordial here, hadn’t they?
“I did not realize this was your shop,” she said as she approached Leliana.
Make no mistake, Leliana had been aware Morrigan was skulking around the store the moment she saw a flash of familiarity outside the display. She’d also been aware of when Morrigan stepped in and aware of her surveying the selections - and yes, she would also agree that this version of her looked much, much better without the swamp witch rags that left very little to the imagination (there was always a little extra nipple revealed in battle accidentally with that one).
It was only a matter of time before they crossed paths face to face. Certainly fate. Their dreams were intertwined from one crisis to another, not in the exact best ways, but she was willing to wipe the slate clean in this life. Nothing could change what happened in Thedas, there wasn’t much of a point to let events that were already pre-determined stain whatever semblance of a friendship they could have here.
“You know me,” she smiled, a slight quirk of her mouth, while the tip of the pen tapped on paper mindlessly. “I have quite a fondness for shoes. Without the foot fetish, thankfully. Can I help you look for something?”
Morrigan wouldn’t exactly call it skulking. Skulking would be what she did while following Maia, Alistair and the other Warden recruits in the Korcari Wilds. Currently, she was simply trying to find something. That something possibly being her sanity, but it was difficult to tell what she was looking for unless she gave voice to it.
“Indeed, though I seem to recall you have a fondness for clothes as well.” Morrigan still refused to let Leliana dress her. That was not something that was going to change in this life. Though she may be a bit friendlier, or at least open to talking to people without being constantly negative or condescending.
“As it stands, perhaps you are able to assist me in finding something. I am in need of a new pair of heels, ones that may perhaps be a statement piece one would wear to dinner.” She was extremely careful to not say a date. The last thing she wanted was for Leliana to get wind of her love life.
Fortunate for Morrigan, her tastes in clothes didn’t seem all that atrocious to Leliana - but there really wasn’t much to choose from in Thedas, was there, when you were constantly running around and slashing at darkspawn? Or fighting demons from the Fade if she were to fast forward that a decade later.
“A statement piece one would wear to dinner,” repeated the former bard, letting those words utter with that ghostly trail of a French accent. Maker, she wasn’t stupid. It was a special hobby of hers to virtually stalk people of interest on that network. Their posts, their public conversations with other people. Not many were skilled at secrecy, and there’d been a couple things she picked up on.
The pen placed on the counter. Her smile widened a smidge. “Hm. I’d love to help. Care to indulge me in the kind of outfit you’ve chosen? Is it a dress, what’s it’s length, color, material, so forth.” There was plenty to take into consideration when it came to pairing the right shoes with the right outfit - it’d be a disaster if Morrigan walked into dinner with a sleek, silky dress and had lace heels.
Morrigan was mentally reminding herself that having Leliana choose shoes for her was not the same as dressing her completely. Even in this life she still refused to let Leliana put her in any outfit. So she was going to see what Leliana would choose with the criteria given.
“It is a dress, indeed. Black in color, and it is a longer dress, ankle length. Though there is a high slit.” She was trying to be a little risqué with the dress cut, the amount of skin it showed, but not too much. Then again, considering the amount of skin her rags in the dreams showed off, almost anything here was more conservative by comparison. “It is a silkier material, one that has a little sparkle to it when the light catches it.”
As much as she may somewhat pay attention to fashion here, Morrigan wasn’t certain if a sparkley fabric had any bearing on what kind of shoe she’d wear with the dress. But if Leliana wanted specifics, she’d give specifics.
Hm, sounded elegant and sensual. Something Leliana could possibly approve of. First, she beckoned one of the floor employees to come over to man the cashier counter, and then led Morrigan into the forest of shoes - the selections were varied, even if there were some selections she didn’t quite approve of but regardless, bad taste also had a way of selling. “Sounds very fancy,” she began. Perhaps something open-toed? With straps.
Though that seemed like a dress befitting a romantic night out. How curious. Leliana bit the inside of her cheek, otherwise that smile would grow into a full-blown trickster grin. “Who’s the lucky one, then? You don’t wear a dress like that and get new shoes for just anyone.”
This was entirely surreal. Morrigan’s dream self would probably be horrified that she was even doing this, but she was going to at least see what Leliana had to offer. If she didn’t like it, she didn’t have to buy it. So that was her inner mantra as she followed Leliana. At least until that question was asked. It made Morrigan flustered because that seemed to be her default state when Maia was brought up. Not that she’d been named, but the subject had been brought up.
“And what, pray tell, gives you the impression that such an outfit is for someone else and not for a night at the opera or ballet?” Morrigan managed to keep her cool, even if she felt flustered to the extreme.
Oh, how sweet. Morrigan almost sounded bashful. And again, Leliana had to remind herself that the swamp witch recalled the starry-eyed bard who acted like she sucked the milk out of Andraste’s very own breasts - not the Inquisition's Spymaster who saw everything, heard everything, and most of the time knew everything. Rumors were hoarded like treasure, which was actually a fancy way of referring to the fact that she would literally sit with her laptop, nibble on fruit and scroll through the various conversations going through Valarnet like some internet stalker.
“Most conversations on the network are very public, I can see interactions and draw up safe conclusions,” the redhead plainly explained, climbing on a rack a little to reach up high on the shelf. In her hands were a box of satin stilettos, simple yet elegant - a strap to go around the ankle, a strap over the toes, and the color was a burgundy-wine shade, reminiscent of the mage’s robes during their travels. “These are from the Stuart Weitzman Evening collection. Very classic. I also have them in black, if you’re curious.”
It took quite the resilience for Morrigan to not actually lose her shit, for lack of a better term, with Leliana’s confession of reading network posts. Perhaps she should have expected that Leliana would keep tabs on such things. While Morrigan thought she was little more than an extremely over-religious, starry-eyed bard that had been hit in the head one too many times in battle, she probably should have expected that Leliana was more aware of everything around her than she seemed to be. After all, one was not a bard without being good at gathering information. So she simply drew in a slow, deep breath and let it out just as slowly, attempting to keep the look of being calm and collected in tact as much as possible.
“Ah. Then you may indeed know some things.” Morrigan and Maia had not publicly announced they were a thing, but it could easily be assumed that they were from the flirting that they did on the networks. The flirting was more obvious behind filters or in text messages that Leliana didn’t have access to, but there was enough to draw conclusions. “The lucky one is Maia,” she finally confessed. Outloud. It was still strange for her to say that, but it did bring a warmth to her face that softened her somewhat stark features.
Now, as for the shoes, Morrigan didn’t dislike them on sight. She liked the color, which she did note was close to the color of her robes in the dreams. “I would prefer them in this color.” While Morrigan didn’t have much color variation or vibrancy in her clothing, she showed color in other ways. Such as the purple on her finger nails, or the eyeshadow that made her eyes a bit more dramatic and eye-catching.
Leliana suspected as such. There was one particular conversation between the two, something about how Morrigan had called this female Warden charming and the such - it could have been interpreted as friendly bantering but she could detect the hidden undertones behind it. Even in text, she could decipher someone’s intent behind words. Such was the Orlesian way, really, to code everything they meant in careful and passive aggressive wording.
Granted, Maia wasn’t someone she was all that familiar with. A female version of the Warden she’d traveled with which was interesting, and her demeanor had always come off as playful. Their interactions were limited but still, she kept a close eye - she was one of theirs after all. “Congratulations on your budding romance, if it is appropriate? This place has a rather uncanny way of bringing people together, whether it is from our world or another.”
As for the shoes, excellent choice! They were on sale too, and she would apply the Valarnet discount Cindy had put in place during her reign.
Morrigan did not like people poking their noses into her life. But she couldn’t begrudge Leliana for drawing conclusions from public conversations that could be read by anyone. Though she still reserved the right to be a bit prickly about it. Talking about her private life was something she didn’t do much of unless she considered someone a friend. And even then, it could be like pulling teeth with her.
“Thank you,” she responded, still finding it a bit awkward that Leliana was giving her such tidings. But she supposed there was no harm in accepting them. “Indeed it does. It reminds me of Thedas in more ways than one. Though it is blessedly free of darkspawn.”
Turning her attention back to the shoes, she could already see herself wearing them. Morrigan didn’t exactly dress to impress, and yet here she was wanting to do just that with Maia. But Maia was special, and as much as emotions frustrated and flustered the hell out of Morrigan, she was going to get through it. “Now, let us see how these shoes fit.”
Ah, the darkspawn - Leliana had to smile in bittersweet fondness. Dark times indeed, but it brought a sense of camaraderie with those she traveled with. Some, of course, more than others. It seemed like long ago at this point in the game, though she’d been around for awhile and had dreamt much, much farther. Over a decade into the mess of things in the messy world known as Thedas.
“Go on,” she smirked, handing her over the box. “I believe these may be your size? You’ll be a knockout for your date.”
And, see? Leliana didn’t even have to dress her. May Andraste bless her more tasteful fashion.
Morrigan had heard little bits of what happened a decade after the Blight. Leliana had mentioned they’d met again, and then Max had told her there was another war that had been larger than the Blight. Beyond that, she did not wish to know details until she dreamt of them.
“I thank you for your confidence in that matter,” Morrigan responded, eyeing Leliana slightly warily. Andraste help her, she was being nice.
Thank the Maker that Leliana wasn’t dressing her. Shoes she could handle. And, well, this was an odd encounter, but not a completely unpleasant one. Perhaps there was some sort of hope that she would not detest the Chantry sister here like she did in the dreams.