"Ignore every instinct to flee. Remember: you are a monster too." - Destiny
"Ta-da!" With a dramatic flourish of his wrist, Darcy unfurled the rolled-up scroll and placed it on the breakfast table. Gwen had been so caught up staring at the spread before her, not quite believing her eyes that she hadn't noticed Darcy's arrival. The long oak table was draped in a fine white linen cloth, upon which sat platter after platter of sumptuous breakfast foods. At one end was a huge wheel of creamy cheese, its rind dotted with herbs. Beside it sat a basket of still-warm bread, the crusty loaf steaming gently in the cool morning air. Bowls of plump berries in shades of crimson, purple and blue beckoned invitingly, their sweet perfume wafting towards Gwen's nose. Slices of juicy ham, pink and glistening, were piled high on a bronze platter next to a stack of buttery croissants. In the center sat a vase bursting with bright wildflowers, their colourful petals still dusted with early morning dew.
The group fell silent, all eyes turning to Darcy as he stood at the head of the table a self-satisfied tilt to his chin, "Don't hold back the compliments people! You're welcome for gracing you with my brilliant forethought, planning, and use of personal connections."
"Maybe if you explain what you're talking about first, our lesser minds may be able to come up with adequate compliments for this spectacular feat of yours," Alistair drawled, placing a croissant on his plate - having just sat down and the last member of their party to arrive - he had just joined the rest of their party at the breakfast table, still looking a bit dishevelled from sleep. His tawny hair was tousled and his gambeson was on inside out, adding to his charmingly rumpled appearance. As he settled into his seat a few places down from Gwen, she couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Across from her, Zevran and Leliana exchanged knowing glances and quickly placed bets on how long it would take Alistair to notice
"I'm so glad you asked, my good friend Alistair, I would love nothing more than to explain how amazing I am." Darcy leaned in close to Zevran, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He playfully winked and fluttered his long eyelashes at the rogue.
Morrigan groaned, her initial pleasure at avoiding Alistair's presence this morning disappearing under the haze of Darcy's flirtations, "Cease this childish display and proceed, would you? Lest this idle chatter lull me back to sleep and we delay our exit from this place even further."
"Alright, alright," Darcy attempted to appease the witch, "Don't get your knickers in a twist."
Morrigan's jaw clenched with a sharp clack of her teeth and she muttered, "My knickers are none of your concern."
Gwen breathed a silent sigh of relief as Darcy refrained from provoking Morrigan any further. Instead, he carefully untied the twine that bound the ancient-looking scroll and laid it gently on the table. The parchment was yellowed with age, and intricate map lines traced its surface, depicting the corner of Ferelden where they currently resided. However, anything past that knowledge was beyond Gwen. There were words written in an elegant, looping script on the lower left corner of the map, different from the other titles spread around the page, but given that Gwen was unable to read any language at all she couldn't discern their meaning. She could guess - her travels had given her knowledge of the names of the surrounding locations - but the letters had never made much sense to her. Keeping her expression neutral was second nature to Gwen, a defence mechanism honed over years to keep others from knowing what lurked beneath the mask. It wasn't that she was ashamed; illiteracy was common among common folk. But revealing this vulnerability could only bring trouble, so she kept it to herself.
The gentle chirping of crickets filled the room, their rhythmic song blending with the soft rustling of leaves and distant birdcalls. The cool breeze that flowed through the open window carried with it the smell of damp earth and floral notes, a refreshing respite from the stuffy air inside the small room.
YOU ARE READING
Yet Broken Still You Breathe
Fanfiction- 'I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break.' - Mary Hornbacher Gwen had spent so long on her own, distanced from the w...
