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schizoauthoress_libraryTitle: Left Behind
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: set during Dragon Age: Origins
Warnings: none
Prompt/Fill: not applicable
Word Count: 438
Summary: The Warden is going after Flemeth. Morrigan, Oghren, and the mabari were not chosen to accompany them.
Left Behind
"Oghren, stay behind and protect Morrigan," Oghren muttered, in a nasally, mocking tone that really sounded nothing like the Warden's voice. "I'm trusting you with the dog, Oghren. I don't think you can handle fighting an old witch, Oghren..."
Alistair was sulking in his tent. Zevran hadn't been chosen for the party either, but he was nowhere in camp at the moment. So Oghren didn't even have the option of being distracted by the Antivan's weird sense of humor. Even Bodahn and Sandal were away -- the merchant had backtracked to one of the main roads, looking for customers rather than waiting around in the well-hidden camp.
Oghren kicked at a rock on the ground. Nearby, the mabari war hound whined with concern at his ranting.
"Oh, hush," Oghren grumbled.
The dog barked crossly in response to his tone. Abashed, Oghren scratched at his chin. Then he came acloser to the dog, other hand held out in offer. The mabari huffed and stooped so that his head bumped up under Oghren's palm.
Oghren ruffled the dog's floppy ears, smiling despite himself. "Sorry. Just don't like being left behind."
"Woof!"
Oghren laughed. "Suppose you don't either -- bred for battle and all that. Me too, you know? I'm a warrior, not a bodyguard..."
He looked toward Morrigan's tent and its separate fire. The young witch was curled up near the fire, poring over an old book. She was scowling at the pages as though they'd done her a great wrong. And Oghren was pretty sure that she wasn't actually reading whatever was written there. She didn't care for being left behind. She was probably sulking over it, just as much as Oghren.
Oghren gave the mabari's ears one last ruffle, then walked closer to Morrigan. She obviously heard his approach, for she looked up when he was close. Her yellow eyes pinned him with a glare.
"Whatever you have to say," Morrigan said sharply, "I am not interested."
Ignoring her tone, Oghren said what he'd come here to say: "The Warden does impossible shit all the time. They'll keep you safe from that swamp witch mom of yours, you know."
Before she could reply, Oghrne turned away and walked back to the main fire. The mabari barked happily at him when he got close. Oghren took a seat, and pulled out tools to sharpen his axe. The mabari flopped at his feet with a sigh, the way it often did with the Warden.
"Good dog," Oghren said, smiling again as the words earned him a wag from that stub tail. "Maybe I'll get a saddle on you yet."
The mabari grumbled.
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: G
Spoilers: set during Dragon Age: Origins
Warnings: none
Prompt/Fill: not applicable
Word Count: 438
Summary: The Warden is going after Flemeth. Morrigan, Oghren, and the mabari were not chosen to accompany them.
Left Behind
"Oghren, stay behind and protect Morrigan," Oghren muttered, in a nasally, mocking tone that really sounded nothing like the Warden's voice. "I'm trusting you with the dog, Oghren. I don't think you can handle fighting an old witch, Oghren..."
Alistair was sulking in his tent. Zevran hadn't been chosen for the party either, but he was nowhere in camp at the moment. So Oghren didn't even have the option of being distracted by the Antivan's weird sense of humor. Even Bodahn and Sandal were away -- the merchant had backtracked to one of the main roads, looking for customers rather than waiting around in the well-hidden camp.
Oghren kicked at a rock on the ground. Nearby, the mabari war hound whined with concern at his ranting.
"Oh, hush," Oghren grumbled.
The dog barked crossly in response to his tone. Abashed, Oghren scratched at his chin. Then he came acloser to the dog, other hand held out in offer. The mabari huffed and stooped so that his head bumped up under Oghren's palm.
Oghren ruffled the dog's floppy ears, smiling despite himself. "Sorry. Just don't like being left behind."
"Woof!"
Oghren laughed. "Suppose you don't either -- bred for battle and all that. Me too, you know? I'm a warrior, not a bodyguard..."
He looked toward Morrigan's tent and its separate fire. The young witch was curled up near the fire, poring over an old book. She was scowling at the pages as though they'd done her a great wrong. And Oghren was pretty sure that she wasn't actually reading whatever was written there. She didn't care for being left behind. She was probably sulking over it, just as much as Oghren.
Oghren gave the mabari's ears one last ruffle, then walked closer to Morrigan. She obviously heard his approach, for she looked up when he was close. Her yellow eyes pinned him with a glare.
"Whatever you have to say," Morrigan said sharply, "I am not interested."
Ignoring her tone, Oghren said what he'd come here to say: "The Warden does impossible shit all the time. They'll keep you safe from that swamp witch mom of yours, you know."
Before she could reply, Oghrne turned away and walked back to the main fire. The mabari barked happily at him when he got close. Oghren took a seat, and pulled out tools to sharpen his axe. The mabari flopped at his feet with a sigh, the way it often did with the Warden.
"Good dog," Oghren said, smiling again as the words earned him a wag from that stub tail. "Maybe I'll get a saddle on you yet."
The mabari grumbled.
*-*-*-*-*
