Who: Maia & Leliana What: Meeting, through somewhat sneaky terms When: Sometime in May Where: UCI Campus Lecture Hall Rating/Warnings: Relatively low Status: Complete!
Thedas itself was an odd world to dream of. Thedas with multiple variations was...well, also very odd but with a degree of intrigue. Certain events had different twists, key players also differed, and Leliana suspected not one Thedosian dreamt the same exact sequence - little changes or big ones, it made all the difference. The professor wasn’t her Warden, but a version of the heroic archetype nonetheless, and from the sounds of her network posts the adventures and story all had the same premise.
And most of the very same companions, too. Nightingale remembered those times fondly, back when her faith was whole and her devotion to the Chantry was blind. The idea of feeling chosen to help fight ‘the good fight’ against the Blight, and then it all cracked like a mirror and the stars in her eyes burned out.
Sitting in on a class wasn’t something she’d ever done, but Leliana would admit the lecture’s subject captured her attention. Same with those...sock puppets? Huh. Maia may have noticed the redhead among the throng of sleepy or hungover students but throughout it, she’d remain silent.
It was certainly a way to meet someone, wasn’t it? Her presence on the network wasn’t the loudest. Most of the time she read and observed, and she supposed a private message was a more acceptable way to initiate contact, yet she felt the need to do this one in person.
Maia had known a Leliana before the cruel darkness of reality had soured her. A sweet, witty woman, good to have at one's back against Darkspawn or bandits. She'd listened to Leliana's stories with endless interest, and like she had with all of her companions had found reasons to like and trust them. They'd become a family, one that Maia increasingly felt adrift without. She just hadn't felt like she'd known how to approach this Leliana, who seemed to remember a different person and who'd been rather quiet on the net. It was disconcerting, maybe even a little depressing.
The redhead was certainly familiar, and if she wasn't trying to disguise herself, Maia would recognize her easily enough. At least today wasn't the satyr myths. Anatomically correct satyrs might not be the best first impression.
She ended her class and started to pack her puppets into their box while students filed out.
After the students sifted into the halls, it was the two of them alone. Leliana wasn’t trying hard to conceal her identity - and, well, wasn’t even really concealing it at all. Perhaps it was the length of hair? It seemed to be the only physical difference between her and the storytelling bard flinging arrows at darkspawn.
“You have a very entertaining teaching style,” she giggled, her voice echoing more prominently within the empty lecture hall. “You explain things more as a story. I think it captures their attention more.” As opposed to random bullet points on a PowerPoint presentation, anyway.
“Thank you, luv.” Maia leaned on her box, taking in Leliana and of course compariing her to the bard. “I wanted to make learning fun, after some rather boring lecturers at Uni. But I like to think that you’ve been a subconscious help in my story-telling style.” After all, Leliana could be inspiring. She rather missed her stories.
Part of Leliana missed telling stories, but in more recent times if someone had the nerve to ask her she’d give them a cold look and tell them to crack a book - depending on the mood, that is. The ice was melting, and with some it melted quicker. “You’d like Varric, then, if you’ve a chance to meet the dwarf in your dreams,” she smiled, and rose from the desk to take a leisurely stroll down those few steps.
Maia was lovely, and she could see why Morrigan was smitten. “I believe you know me and I know a version of you, no?” Odd how things worked, but she wouldn’t question the mechanics of it.
“Not a name I’m familiar with, I’m afraid. The only dwarves I’ve gotten to know are a soggy drunkart and a merchant with a very talented son.” She really rather liked Sandal actually. Oghren for that matter. Okay she liked dwarves, so she’d probably get along with Varric too.
She gave Leliana a once over and smiled. “You certainly look familiar. Though I understand I may not to you. Which is very strange, to be quite honest.”
Ah, yes. Bodahn and his son. Leliana fondly recalled them around their campsite - a patch of land that was home throughout their travels. Varric was a bit...cheekier? Well, more than a bit, but he was liked by all (unless you were Cassandra, who had a complicated relationship with him and his texts). “I almost want to say stranger things had happened,” she mused, cocking her head to the side.
But for greetings, a hand was held out. “It’s good to meet you. I hope we’re on good terms, in the version you dream of? We seem like we’d get along.”
“I had dreams and started casting magic spells, strange things have indeed happened.” She took Leliana’s hand and gave her a playful wink. “Oh, we get along all right. We had a grand time at the Pearl with Zevran and this duelist.”
Morrigan? Had not approved.
“Some things do not change, I see,” Leliana seemed surprised. Of all things, no? It was a hilariously fond memory, that grand time. But it didn’t surprise her that Maia was a mage; her Warden was too. “I know Morrigan is coming into her magic as well - it’s good to have someone you know to learn with, isn’t it?”
Considering how close they were, too. She did help Morrigan pick the shoes for her date after all. It was unexpecting bonding between the swamp witch and the delusional bard, who would have ever thought?
“It helps. And she knows tricks I never learned, and we never really had time to share notes, as it were.” She’d been too focused on improving her sheer destructive ability to learn shapeshifting. But here she could focus more time on that. “Don’t tell her, but I plan on taking her on a trip to China. We’ve a mutual interest.”
Aww, that was sweet. Maia needn’t worry, though - her and Morrigan were making gradual strides towards friendliness, considering the fact that they clashed like fire and ice during their earlier travels. It wasn’t until a decade later that, in a way, Leliana grew more fond of her. Perhaps it was motherhood that molded her into something less manipulative and more genuine.
“China?” A brow curiously arched, leaning against the Warden’s desk. “Dare I ask what’s in China?”
“We both spent some time there years ago, but managed to miss each other. She never got to see as much of it as she’d liked, and neither did I for that matter.” Maia shrugged her shoulder, a playful grin on her face. “I thought she’d appreciate the chance to really appreciate the culture and history. We hit it off before we dreamed, talking about our shared love of history and myth.”
“That’s...rather thoughtful of you,” Leliana commented, impressed. It was odd to see Morrigan a little love-stricken but she was glad to know she’d found someone - someone who would also understand the baggage the dreams would come with, whether it be the memories themselves or the burden magic wrought. “A good trip away from this place does the mind some good. I’m preparing one myself, to meet my boyfriend’s family.”
In person, anyway. There was constant communication through phone calls and Skype, but it was the first time to meet the Hawthorne family face to face. After how long their relationship had gone, it was about time.
Maia wrinkled her nose. “A good trip would be nice, if the dreams don’t follow us. But the thought of meeting Morrigan’s mother would be rather terrifying. What should I start with “Hello, you turned into a giant dragon in my dreams and your daughter had me murder you.”” Expression shifting, she gave Leliana a little wink. “Any chance of wedding bells?”
Ahhh. Flemeth. Varric had woven the story of Kirkwall’s Champion with her name at the very beginning, and then there was her involvement about a decade later. Leliana didn’t feel like it was in her place to discuss that quite yet; eventually, she’d hear about Morrigan’s own participation in the Inquisition too.
“They won’t follow you, I can promise that. You might get peaceful sleep for once,” she chuckled. Hers were over for now, though the last time she thought they were ‘over’ she woke up Christmas morning with the physical consequences of being a war prisoner in some other alternate reality thanks to time magic. Thank you, Orange County, you’re an absolute peach.
As for the wedding bells? There might have been a bashful wrinkle of her nose. “We talked about it, but we plan on discussing it a little more seriously after our trip.”
“Be careful,” Maia cautioned. “I understand in-laws can be quite persuasive. I knew a bird once that went to meet the in-laws and came back with a ring on her figure.” She was certain she’d wanted it, but it had been amusing none-the-less and she’d never let her friend live it down.
“Oh, I would not mind,” Leliana assured, waving a hand dismissively. “The commitment’s there regardless, whether or not the ring was present.” They’d been together for awhile now, well over a year, and throughout that they’d overcome every hurdle in their path. There was no rush in the entire thing either considering how much younger Gale was (she did have almost a decade over him), but he was wise beyond his years and had seen plenty of the world. Good and bad, but mostly the bad. “Perhaps you should be the careful one, no?”
Mischief twinkled in Nightingale’s eyes. To see Morrigan married one day wouldn’t be a stretch. She’d seen the woman become a mother, and a good one.
“Wedding bells are not in my future,” Maia assured her, perhaps too quickly. The thought was almost a panic inducing one, though that was in part due to the fear that such a subject would send Morrigan fleeing. Emotions weren’t exactly her strong suit, especially romantic ones, and Maia had been heartbroken in her dreams once already. “Though a uhaul might not be unwarranted.”
“A domestic partnership, then? If you ever need the help moving, you can always enlist me,” she promised, and then nodded her head in somewhat of an incriminating manner. “Maybe also so I can make friendly pokes at that stoic Witch of the Wilds.”
Most of their friction on the other side had to do with the Warden, anyway. Jealousy wasn’t a good color for either of them, but sometimes their words got downright nasty. Things were different here, and what was the point of making enemies when they should all really stand united? Who knew when the Blight would hit Orange County, or when the sky opened up to drop several hundred demons on their lawns.
“Rather, lets try moving before we go so crazy as to involve paperwork,” Maia cautioned. “Assuming she’s quite all right with the idea. Which remains up for debate. However…” And her grin returned. “Please, make friendly pokes, I do so enjoy it.”
Morrigan was a little easy to poke at sometimes, wasn’t she? So stiff, so refined. Opposite of the bard who wove her stories and liked dirt-dwellers for pets and hopped into sexual encounters consisting of multiple people. “You’ll have it, then,” Leliana smiled. “But best of luck, then? Take pictures of your trip too. Avoid trouble.”
“When I take her I’ll be sure to send you a couple,” Maia replied. “Nothing compromising, of course, she’d probably murder me.”