LET THEM EAT CAKE (Part 1) | Coulson and Morrigan

[Morrigan Ashethorn .]

Another moment is another eternity

The noise was minimal at Morrigan’s table for which she was thankful for. She despised inns for this very reason. Everyone was loud, drunk or looking for sex, most often some unholy combination of all three. Wiping the lip of her wine glass with a kerchief, she sipped at the lukewarm mulled wine with a disinterested face and palate.

Her table was set on a small balcony overlooking the main floor, she sat alone, clothed in a pretty affair of elvish lace and velvet with understated yet expensive jewelry. She looked apart from everyone else and that was what she had been aiming for; easier for the boy to spot her without being terribly obvious. Even drunkards could be spies, and Morrigan didn’t have the patience for such things tonight.

Her fingers were weighted with porcelain nails, painted on by the finest Breton technician she could find. It was the rage in Highrock fashion right now, and while Morrigan hated the way they might interfere with a properly cast fireball, she had to look the part. A wealthy widow, offering services no one else on Nirn could pull off.

There was also the fact that the boy’s letter had mentioned his knowledge of the Elder Scrolls Morrigan and Serana had collected when dealing with her bastard of a father. There was a leak in the Court, and that would have to be handled.

The realization that one’s grip is not as tight as previously imagined was not welcomed by the vampire.

But it was the request itself that intrigued her so. How bold and brash did one have to be to request to view an Elder Scroll. Morrigan didn’t know if there was a lucrative market for such a thing, but even if, she had no plans to cash in. The Scrolls were a unique resource and weapon, and the last thing she needed was either the Empire or the Stormcloaks realizing she was keeping such from them.

If push came to shove, Valerica had assured her the Scrolls and the Bow of Auriel could be hidden in the Soul Cairin, away from prying eyes and sticky fingers, but even still. The sudden paranoia and stress was enough to nearly bury Morrigan under a mountain of terrible implications.

She hadn’t decided what she’d charge for reading one of her Scrolls, or if she’d even charge the boy anything at all. She needed to meet him first, get a feel for his strength and personal power. If whether or not reading one of the damnable things would consume him anyway.

“Ma’am, would you like a warmer on your wine?” The way the serving wench’s high voice pierced the ear was similar in the way Morrigan thought being Shouted off a cliff by a Greybeard might be feel.

Glancing at the homely ginger haired Nord, Morrigan waved her hand dismissively: “It’s foul, take it away. I’d rather have a mug of Canis Root tea. It’d take skill you do not possess to fuck up tea. A pot on honey with it too, if you please.” The acid in her voice seemed to do the trick and the girl was gone, the offending wine removed from her table.

“Gods, I need to find better meeting places…”

STARRING:Morrigan and Coulson | WORDS: 541| OUTFIT: Clickie

[Coulson pike .]

s

so shed some light on me

and hold me up in disbelief

TAG: Morrigan Words: 591

ONE LAST THING: I wasn't quite sure how much he'd know about her, so here's a few guesses.

Cole hoped he would never understand the kind of a person who could name their business “The Winking Skeever,” and before he stepped inside the establishment, his eyes again glared at the hanging sign. A shake of his head was all the greeting he gave to the stupid little rodent staring back at him.

The door received no such pause or courtesy as Cole pushed his way inside, angling past a pair of taller Nords that stumbled over one another on the way out. The mage surveyed the room. The woman’s response had mentioned that she’d be in a decent seat at the Skeever, so Cole’s eyes naturally skimmed over the grimier tables riddled with drunken patrons towards the front. A quick inspection of the other seats told him that the woman wouldn’t be found downstairs. His eyes trailed up, and the side of what looked to be a woman’s head ended his search. Unless she was late, that head must have belonged to her. Cole headed for the stairs, waving off a quick call from the bartender who was trying to ensure that the new arrival didn’t want a drink.

He stopped. On second thought, considering the reason Cole stood within the Skeever, he might need a drink. ”An ale,” the Breton called back, before resuming his journey to and up the stairs.

Cole was asking a stranger for access to an Elder Scroll. Yes, he’d already pinched himself, possibly prematurely. He couldn’t guarantee that he would hear what he wanted to from the woman he was meeting, but merely a few days before, Cole would have never thought anyone existed in Skyrim who had their hands on an Elder Scroll. It was through his attempts to help Elmira with her little “Blade reunion” project that she’d been so quick to tempt him with that Cole first started on this pursuit of a scroll. When Cole had mentioned the scrolls in relation to the supposed dragon problem plaguing Skyrim, he probably should have been expecting Elmira to shake him and demand to know everything about them that Cole had learned about them over his years of interest in history. The Nord hadn’t disappointed in that regard. But rightfully, he shouldn’t have remotely expected her to start up talk about going after an actual scroll. And in the midst of Cole’s at first indifferent search for an Elder Scroll, he’d found out that there was a possibility that he could contact a woman who happened to have possession of one.

Cole wasn’t sure what had compelled him to send her a letter. He was even less sure what had convinced her to agree to meet him. And the fact that he was walking into a place to meet a strange woman proved more of a mystery than either to any who knew Cole fairly well. Yet the strides that helped him reach the top of the steps were purposeful ones, and once Cole could reassess the room and spotted the woman again, he didn’t hesitate much before stepping over to her. He did, though, have to scrutinize her a bit. For some reason, Cole had expected her to be a little older. And…not dressed in some strange tube that looked immensely uncomfortable. In a way, she represented everything about a woman that would probably terrify Cole in any other situation, but…this was about an Elder Scroll. He could bite back any reservations he might have carried.

Doing so, he stepped up to the table. ”Lady Ashethorn?”, he asked. ”I’m Coulson Pike.”

and tell me something that i'll believe in

TEMPLATE BY: THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY ! @ CAUTION.

[Morrigan Ashethorn .]

Another moment is another eternity

Her eyes were drawn to the lad from the moment he stepped foot into the bar. 'Out of place' seemed understatement of the year to Morrigan as she watched the Breton side-step two drunkards, and ordered an ale after a moment of deliberation. Was she sure? No. Morrigan was never truly sure about anything, but the facts added up, and the longer she continued to observe him; the more it seemed her assumption was correct.

The waitress was back at her table, setting down her tea and honey, a waft of steam rising from the rich, golden brew. Stirring in the appropriate amount of honey, Morrigan sipped at her drink while watching with the boy ascend the stairs.

He's unsure of himself... She thought to herself, frowning. Morrigan knew from experience that the reading of a Scroll took an enormous amount of personal power, not to mention mental and emotional fortitude. It'll eat him alive.

Gathering her skirts in hand when the boy approached, Morrigan stood, shaking his hand as he introduced himself. "A pleasure, I'm sure. Please - sit." Gesturing to the empty seat across from her own, Morrigan lowered herself back into her chair, taking another long sip of her tea. "Before we dispense with the pleasantries, I must apologize for such heinous meeting conditions. It's simply that your letter came on short notice, and while it thoroughly intrigued me, I had to work fast. But...isn't that the crux of this whole matter." Resting her chin on fingers laced together, she watched his face for any change.

"You seek an Elder Scroll. And you - in some manner - happened upon the belief that I possess one. Hypothetically, if this were true; and I'm not saying it is - what would you use such a powerful artifact for?" Because that was what it came down to for Morrigan. If the boy wished to invite his own destruction upon him, that was no business of hers, but the Elder Scroll could do things.

Unimaginably horrible things.

Morrigan would never claim to have an honorable, charitable or 'good' heart, but she would consider this her one good deed for the century.

STARRING:Morrigan and Coulson | WORDS: 362| OUTFIT: Clickie