This isn't my cot.

Aedan Cousland's eyes snapped open.

Maker's breath, this isn't my cot!

Aedan felt himself beginning to sweat. 'I thought I was done with this!' he thought. 'I've been out of Highever for months now; this is really starting to piss me off after all this time!' Aedan tried to think about what happened the previous night, but was met with a flash of pain. Okay, so it had to do with alcohol. It was classic Aedan Cousland, really.

He tried to clear his head and remember again. Through the fog he began to see random images popping up in his mind: Multiple mugs of beer getting slammed down on the table; Oghren singing; Oghren getting punched. From what Aedan could gather, there had been a drinking contest. Aedan remembered that he had finally had enough of Oghren's horrid drunken vocal stylings, and a fight had broken out. Somewhere along the line Aedan had gotten some girl to take pity on him, she had let him stay with her for the evening. Considering how good-looking he was, he could imagine what might have transpired during his obvious night of debauchery.

He blinked the hangover from his eyes as he assessed his surroundings. He appeared to be in a tent, which meant, 'Oh Maker, a country girl?' Aedan shuddered. Those particular females left a… well, let's just say a lasting impression.

Sneaking out was a rather slow process. Aedan couldn't move very much, what with a massive hangover and what felt like a broken rib or two. Fumbling around as quietly as he could, he managed to locate his clothing strewn around the tent. He then began slowly and painstakingly putting his pants on. He decided his shirt could wait until he was far, far away from his current location.

As he cautiously raised the tent flaps, he felt a cool breeze lick his still shirtless chest. Praise the Maker that I didn't wake her. He was on the precipice of freedom when he heard a voice no more than a breath away from him. He knew that voice all too well. It was normally a welcome sound, but in this case it sent shivers down his spine. "'Tis rude to leave without even saying goodbye, Warden. Surely your noble breeding has educated you better than this."

Aedan froze. "M…Morrigan? Would that be you behind me?" He desperately hoped that the answer wouldn't be yes, even though the voice was unmistakably the sorceress's. The best thing to do at this point was to stall for time; every moment he talked earned him another moment away from the afterlife. This must be what a cornered animal feels like. At least they usually have some way to fight back.

Morrigan gave a short laugh. "Yes, Warden, 'tis I. You were quite rowdy last night, if you remember. I felt obligated to take you in."

Aedan was surprised he hadn't started hyperventilating. He hadn't spent the night with just some woman, but Morrigan, the Maker-forsaken Witch of the Wilds. Sure, there was no denying that she was beautiful; to deny that would be madness. With Aedan it was a matter of principle. There were just some things you didn't do and one of those things was get friendly with a Witch of the Wilds!

Aedan snapped back to reality. "Morrigan, if I may ask…" He said, slowly. "Did we, um…You know? I mean, not to say anything of you but I was in my smalls and…" His words started spilling out incoherently. "What I mean is I'm so sorry and please don't kill me. I was drunk and Maker's breath, I..."

Morrigan raised a thin eyebrow. "Oh, trust me Warden; you would know if we had." She smirked impishly. "But to answer your question, no. I simply took you in because you threw up in your tent, Alistair threw up in the bushes from his stew he concocted, Oghren was passed out, Sten wouldn't know the first thing about how to take care of another human being, Zevran is, well, Zevran, and Leliana was to disgusted with you to tolerate your presence. I don't think I need to give a reason for the dog." She continued. "The lack of clothing was initiated by me, only to see how bad your injuries were. I was worried you would need healing after Oghren landed that blow to your ribs. Now as for you waking without pants, that is entirely your fault. 'Twould seem that in your inebriated state you thought that I was instigating more than healing. I cannot be held responsible for the jolt you received when you very nearly tackled me; 'twas only self defense." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Aedan couldn't help but notice that her hair was down, splayed beautifully around her porcelain shoulders. He shook himself, No way, Aedan. Don't even think about it. He slapped his palm to his head. "Andraste help me, I really need to learn to control my… ego. Even when I'm a helpless, retching drunk, I act like an arrogant jackass."

"Well, I suppose 'tis part of your personality. There is no real use trying to change. My mother once told me that you cannot change who you are; you can, however, make the best of the hand that was dealt to you." She paused, and smiled for a moment. "Though, I must say if I could suggest something you could in fact change, it would be that you take more baths." She smirked at him. "The gore that you warriors acquire in battles is truly impressive, but is all the same disgusting."

Aedan was, quite frankly, shocked. From what he understood he had not bedded Morrigan, and so long as he didn't say anything stupid, he might actually live to get out of this tent.

"So, was staying the night with me as pleasurable as you thought it would be?" he asked with a smile. It quickly faded when he realized what he'd just said. 'Holy Andraste! I didn't just say that, did I? Maker-damned vomit-inducing hangover!'

Morrigan's expression turned from one of puzzlement to understanding to shock. "You want to know if it was enjoyable? I… I don't even know what to say to that. Why would you even think such a thing, Warden? 'Tis a ridiculous notion."

Okay, Aedan, she shot you down and she didn't kill you. Now just say thank you and walk away. Whatever you do, don't continue this conversation!

The Warden smirked. "Are you sure? Given the intensity of your denial and the suddenness of your response, I gather that it was rather enjoyable. Am I correct?"

No!

Morrigan froze. "Warden…it seems that you have worn out your welcome. I would suggest that you leave, now." Her cheeks were tinged with pink, but Aedan spotted a glimpse of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Was this woman, who had barely ever shown the slightest bit of emotion (other than contempt for pretty much everybody) embarrassed?

Aedan suddenly realized just how just far he'd gone. He could hear the small voice in the back of his head shouting at him. Yep, you did it this time, you idiot. He immediately forced all possible snarky responses back down his throat and told himself shut the hell up. He didn't bother with anything fancy; he simply left. He didn't so much as say goodbye. It didn't seem appropriate, considering the circumstances.

Morrigan was livid, but not for the reasons you would think. 'Really? He didn't even say goodbye? Damn it… what is wrong with that man? I've always assumed that it was customary to say farewell before departing. Are all men like this? Or is it just Grey Wardens who have no manners?' Morrigan fretted and fumed over it as she dressed and tossed her hair up into her usual up do. 'And he didn't even comment on my hair being down!?'

Back in the main camp, Aedan was slowly walking back to his tent, trying to get there as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. He truly wasn't really ready to face anyone in his group right now. His goal was to spend the next few hours in his hopefully-not-still-smelly tent until he could work up the courage to go out in public. But, of course, things never happen as planned. Aedan nearly lashed out with his emergency dagger when he felt a hand clamp his shoulder, until he realized that it was Zevran. 'Oh, Maker's Balls…'

"So, my friend," the former Crow said, smiling, "how was it?"

"How was what?"

"You know what… did our fair Witch of the Wilds live up to expectations? Was she subpar? Or was she so amazing that the real reason you're walking slowly is for fear of collapsing?"

Aedan whipped around and almost immediately regretted it, as it would seem his hangover had not yet worn off. As he clutched his head, he glared at Zevran. "Don't talk about her like that. She may be a bit abrasive, but she is a human being and a lady. And if you must know, nothing happened. She simply took me in." The elf's grin only grew wider. Aedan really wanted to knock that lurid smirk right off his face.

"Oh, of course she did. She took you in… for the night of your life. Call me crazy, but I could've sworn that I heard some grunting in there."

"Zevran, I'm really not in the mood for-"

He was interrupted mid-sentence by the former Crow. "I'm not finished yet. Suspicious noises aside, my greatest question is this: why her and not me? I've made numerous advances against you, commenting nearly daily about your divine backside, and yet you choose her. Is it the robe? It's the robe, isn't it? I suppose I could understand that, considering the size of-"

Aedan felt himself losing control as he reared back and cold cocked Zevran right in face, sending the elf to the ground. He stood over Zevran and stared at him menacingly. "Didn't you hear me? I specifically told you not to talk about her like that less than twenty seconds ago. Now get up and don't talk to me." He continued walking back to his tent, and stopped. 'Hold up, now why did I do that? Is it the hangover? Or was I actually defending Morrigan's honor?'

Aedan began evaluating himself. So, not only have I managed to apparently piss off Oghren, but I've also embarrassed Morrigan, which I thought was impossible. Furthermore, I've just punched out Zevran and didn't even apologize! What was wrong with me this morning?

At that very moment Aedan made a new rule: No more drinking, ever. It simply didn't work out for him. He slowly walked over to where Zevran was, and helped the guy up. It wasn't fair that Aedan had just hit him like that. Aedan apologized quickly, and Zevran forgave him. They were good friends; small spats like this were fairly common. After a quick reconciliation session, they got to work making breakfast.

The smell of their modest meal drew the other members of their group out of their tents. Sten was the first, which wasn't surprising, seeing as the man hardly ever slept anyway. He was followed soon after by Leliana, then Ripfang (the aforementioned dog) and Alistair, and finally Oghren. He stumbled around a little bit, fell flat on face, and then went back into his tent, muttering something about "asschabs". It took quite a while for Morrigan to come and join them, and Aedan was surprised she had even joined them at all.

The first few minutes were awkwardly silent, save for the sounds of chewing. It was Sten, of all people, who broke the silence first. "Warden."

Aedan looked up. "Yes?"

"You and the Witch… did you engage in sexual acts last night?"

Aedan nearly choked on his breakfast. "I'm… sorry, what?"

"He asked if we engaged in physically intimate activities, Warden," Morrigan said, glaring at both him and the Qunari. "And if you must know, Sten, we did not. Oghren gave him a hard punch in the chest last night with a gauntleted fist. I only removed his shirt to check for injuries; any grunts you may have heard came from him trying to throw me to the ground in a state of drunken lust."

At this, Zevran burst out laughing. "I knew I wasn't crazy; I knew it! Warden, you lied to me! Something did happen between you two! It simply… didn't go as planned."

Alistair had to smile at this. "You know, I've always pictured you as a gentleman; someone with refinement and good taste. It seems to me that that isn't true in the slightest. To think that you'd even think of doing it with a bitch like the Witch… I don't even know you anymore. Hey, I made a rhyme." He was grinning like a cat that swallowed a canary.

Aedan stood without a word and made his way back to his vomit-drenched tent, ignoring the uproarious laughter in the background. No drinking again, ever.

This will certify that the above work is completely original.