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Samahlen	By : BronxWench Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 1569 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins, and I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Interlude

AN: I apologize in advance for the behavior of the players in the following interlude. It appears that more than one has sustained a resounding blow to the head. With any luck, this interval of silliness is a temporary aberration and next week's prompt will see a return to more suitable occupations.

Alistair looked more than a little uncomfortable as he approached Morrigan. "I wanted to thank you for that poultice, and apologize for being an ass. It helped, a lot."
Morrigan eyed him coolly. "I am not sure how being an ass helped, but you are... welcome."
"That's not what I... ah, never mind." Alistair subsided, his cheeks flaming.
"Morrigan," Wraith said reprovingly. "That doesn't help, you know."
Morrigan observed Wraith for a long moment, her golden eyes raking him. "You have a frittle on your thigh."
"I have what?" Wraith looked down, alarmed, having felt nothing touching him other than the leather strips of his kilt. "Alistair, do you see anything?"
"Nothing," Alistair replied, equally alarmed.
Morrigan snorted. "And this would explain why you are so well suited to each other. There is an impression on your thigh, my dear Warden, that is an exact match for the ridges on the thigh piece of Alistair's armor."
"Then why did you tell me I had a frittle on my leg?" Wraith frowned at the witch.
"That is the correct term for such an impression." Morrigan looked slightly surprised at Wraith's obvious indignation. "Did you not know that?"
"Is that even a real word?" Alistair asked.
Wraith snorted. "I've never heard of it."
Morrigan arched an eyebrow at the two Wardens. "And why does this not surprise me in the least?"
Alistair turned around, looking for an ally. "Leliana, you're a bard, right? Words are your life. Have you ever heard of a frittle?"
The slender Orlesian woman frowned slightly. "I can't say that I have, at least not in Val Royeaux. Perhaps it is a Fereldan thing?"
"Are you sure you did not mean 'fritter', my dear Morrigan?" Zevran inquired. "Oh, but perhaps not. In Antiva, the street peddlers sell these shellfish, dipped in batter and fried in oil. They are also called fritters, but why Wraith would have one of those on his leg is beyond me." The assassin chuckled wickedly. "Unless of course he expected someone to nibble it off the creamy flesh of his –"
"Shut up," Alistair snarled as he rounded on Zevran, looking murderous.
"Do you think the darkspawn will wait while we argue about words?" The qunari regarded them all levelly. "Then again, you will likely kill each other off and save the darkspawn the trouble."
Alistair shot the qunari a baleful look and turned to Wynne. "You're an instructor at the Circle, aren't you, Wynne. You must have read a great many of the books in the tower."
"Are you implying, young man, that I have never had anything better to do with my time than to read?" Wynne folded her arms as she eyed Alistair.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it. You're a very attractive and vital woman and I have no doubt that you have many admirers, of which I am one," Alistair said with a gallant bow.
Leliana chuckled. "Nicely played. I don't think it's working, though."
"Of course it is not working. Wynne is intelligent, a quality sadly lacking in this party in general, and which has found its nadir in our former Templar." Morrigan glared at Alistair.
Wraith could not help but laugh at the expression on Alistair's face, something that was kin to outrage, tempered by a dawning realization that he was being mocked at every turn.
"Fine. I'm an idiot for not knowing what a frittle is. Let's move on." Alistair's cheeks were flaming as he turned away, his back stiff.
Wraith reached out, ignoring the rest of the party as he pulled Alistair down into a kiss that left the human breathless and bled the tension from his spine. They stood for a moment, foreheads touching, until Alistair touched Wraith's cheek gently and smiled.
"Well, at least now I know what a frittle is," Alistair said. "Sorry about all that."
Wraith snorted, amused. "Don't be sorry. I'm not. And it's probably a good thing that they didn't see the frittle on my ass."

Prompt word: Frittle
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