"So you were stalking us?" Eloriel asked a ginger haired dwarf and his son. "This whole time?"
"I wouldn't call it that necessarily..." the elder dwarf trailed off. "Maybe...."
"Creators, you're sneaky!" Eloriel exclaimed, somewhat disturbed. "Is that how you get your merchandise?"
"Do not accuse me of thievery!" the dwarf piped up, his face red with anger.
"I wasn't," she pointed out with a smile. "You just thought I did. Actually, that's amazing, either you are dead silent or my ears gone bad."
"Probably not the latter, miss, I have caught you looking back every now and then."
"Why thank you, mister...?"
"Bodahn, Bodahn Fennic, at your service along with my son, Sandal."
Who names their child Sandal?!
"Very gentlemanly," Leliana observed as she came over. "And amiable. Shall we let the vendor sell his goods along with us?"
"You get a discount," he added with a businessman's smile.
"Alright. But tell me, how did you get your cart around without letting yourself be known? The woods are extremely thick."
"Oh, well it's very easy you see-"
"ELORIEL, THE MUTT WANTS TO TALK TO ME!" Morrigan yelled from behind a boulder where smoke came out of.
"Sorry," Eloriel apologized to Bodahn, stepped towards Morrigan. "Maybe you can tell me later?"
"Enchantment!" Sandal exclaimed, waving as she slowly stepped back with a weak smile.
He's adorable but creepy at the same time....
"Morrigan, why aren't you setting up camp with the others?" Eloriel asked as she saw where the smoke was coming from. Apparently she had made her own little campsite far from the main one. Even Sten was setting up his tent next to Leliana's. When asked, he said that groups should stay nearby in case of an attack, darkspawn or otherwise.
But it's sad really, that's she's alone. Why is it that she can't trust us?
"I asked you to get the mutt away from me, not pester me yourself," Morrigan said, rubbing her forehead.
Eloriel looked over to were Alistair was and then looked back to Morrigan.
"I see that you're still calling him mutt."
"I think that it suits him well," Morrigan huffed, crossing her arms and turning away.
"Aww, Alistair, it seems like you have an admirer. I'm so jealous!" Eloriel squealed, patting him on the shoulder.
"What in damnation?! I do not..!" Morrigan snapped as Alistair made gagging noises.
"You don't really mean that, do you?" Alistair asked with disgust.
"Mon copine," Leliana began, joining them. "Tu ne suis pas combien Morrigan aime ton personnalité. Tu es très aimable et bête. Mais tu es trop triste aujourd'hui."
Alistair looks at Eloriel, whispering to her, "What did Leliana say?" Eloriel responded with a shrug and turned back to Morrigan.
"Anyways, you are very, very, very welcomed to join us," Eloriel said. "But I'm sure you would like some peace and quiet now." She then nodded to Alistair. "Come on, let's go."
Morrigan returned to her fire as the three walked off. Eloriel paused a bit and waved back at Morrigan, who just scowled and turned away.
I hope I can at least call her friend someday. She isn't like the other shems.
Eloriel looked at Alistair.
He may be different too.
Eloriel went inside her tent as the other two, Leliana and Alistair, began talking to Sten. She didn't join in pestering the Qunari. Eloriel didn't really want to die by having her head ripped off. She also knew that whatever they were planning on getting out of him, he would just refuse to answer. Then if they persisted in questioning him, they'd end up with no heads. And she definitely did not want to see that.
If only we could, I don't know, maybe we.... No, but still-
"If only we could get along," a bubbly voice said next to her. Eloriel jumped back as she realized that the voice wasn't her own and that there was another woman next to her.
"Creators! Who are you?" she yelled at the woman with the bright yellowish green eyes which seemed to stare forever into what they were looking at.
The woman gracefully put her hand out and used the other one to check on her dirty blonde hair tied up into a bun. "Emilee. Emilee Trevelyn. How do you do?" Eloriel opened her mouth to speak but the woman beat her to it. "What kind of a person comes into a stranger's tent and just asks them 'how do you do'? Creators, she's creepy." She then stopped, as if waiting for something. "She's.... Is she reading my mind?" She smiled at Eloriel. "Yes. I am indeed."
"Why are you-"
"Because I heard."
"Heard-"
"You. And your friends."
"We're not-"
"I know you think that. But I already know."
"You already-"
"Foreseer as well as a mind reader anything involving the mind and spirit actually."
"Oh sure-"
"I am."
"Stop finishing my-" Eloriel began to yell.
"Sentences?"
Eloriel sat down, not realizing that she had stood up when yelling at her. "Yes. That." She sighed to herself. "Tell me why you're-"
"Here?"
"Stop it, dammit!"
"Ohh, someone's angry," she smirked.
"Just tell me why you're here," Eloriel instructed, trying to keep her cool.
"I already told you."
"I don't think that I 'called' you. Same with my companions."
"Friends."
"Whatever you wish."
"You're wondering how to get the lunatic out of the tent without resorting to violence," she said with a sigh. "Typical." Eloriel noticed that whenever she was using her supposed powers, her bright eyes become dull. "How thoughtful. I knew you'd be a good person. You were chosen."
"Yeah, I know. Duncan chose me to be a stupid Grey Warden."
"But much, much more." She then hesitated. "How sad. How terribly, dreadfully sad."
Eloriel then began chuckling to herself.
"I'd say I'm doing swell," Emilee said with confusion, a hand pressed on her head in case she would have screamed. In an instant, a dagger pressed against the woman's neck with just enough pressure to cause bleeding.
"This all makes sense now," Emilee said for herself as well as Eloriel.
"Nice try, Emilee Trevelyn; if that's even your name. I know what you're up to."
"You think I'm playing you. You distracted me with that last thought, made it so loud that I couldn't focus. It was so easy for you to move the dagger undetected."
Eloriel smirked as she put more pressure on the dagger. The woman winced, the blood now staining her floral dress. "You're smart," Eloriel admitted. "But I'm smarter."
"I do not doubt that," Emilee said between gasps. "But I am shocked that you change your mind quickly, that you can solve something so easily. It makes me doubt whether or not you should or will have such a fate."
Eloriel pushed the dagger in deeper. "I know who you're working for. What you're doing. You can't break me. I will still fight."
"Very clever. Oh, very, very clever. Fine, I shall go and quit this silly task. I knew it wouldn't work, but I wanted to try. The future can change, things will be added or gotten rid of. People change, even in the slightest bit, so small it's undetectable to everything but fate itself."
Eloriel released her hold of the dagger and tossed a bandage to the woman.
"That's a fine example of the change in fate. Now I'll live to tell another tell, and see another hero," Emilee said, wrapping the linen around the cut.
"Shut up and hurry back to Loghain. Tell him that I will never give up."
"Never? That's quite a promise. Human's are not that reliable, you know? Oh, but you are an elf. Maybe that'll make a difference in the long run."
"Tell him that a friend of mine will rip off his head and the heads of his supporters and workers if they come near us again."
"Anything else?"
"His fate is already set in stone."