Ma Emma Lath

A Dragon Age kinkmeme prompt fill. Still a work in progress. Original prompt as follows:



Finally got off my ass and played the Dalish Origin - aside from more coolness from The Beard, the way Merrill talked to Mahariel caught my eye. Even more so that side-hug and longing look she gave him (or her? Haven't seen what it looks like from the female end, I imagine Tamlen kind of occupies the mini-romance niche for FMahariel) when he's marching off to Ostagar. I can't possibly be the only one who's seen this, despite there not being an example of this meme.



So, I imagine Mahariel taking the time Duncan gives him/her to say goodbyes to give Merrill a very physical one. Male or female, either one works. As for a kink...goodbye sex would fall under hurt/comfort, I guess. Whatever writeanon feels is appropriate, though.

Ma Emma Lath

Lyna stood silently, almost stoically, as Duncan and Mareathari discussed her ‘cure’, her leaving her clan to become a Grey Warden and joining the forces at Ostagar fighting the growing darkspawn horde. Already the clan would be mourning the loss of Tamlen, would they mourn her leaving as well? “Might I stay for Tamlen’s funeral?” she asked, turning to face the keeper. Though barely considered an adult by the clan’s standards, life amongst the clan was all that she knew, and she was not so willing to leave without saying her goodbyes.



“Though we have a long journey before us, I cannot deny you that request,” Duncan said. “Say your goodbyes, and then we must be off.”



“Come, da’len,” Marethari said, placing a hand upon the young hunter’s shoulder, guiding her back towards the main area of the camp. “Before the Creator’s take you from us, let your clan embrace you one last time.”



Though the words were meant to comfort, they only drove the finality of the moment closer. The halla would be mourning her leaving before the night was past, along with Tamlen. Tamlen, whom had been like a brother to her; Ashalle, whom had been a friend to her parents and like a grandmother to her; Master Ilen, Fenarel, Paivel, who though harsh at times, had been much a father to her; Pol, the young city elf the clan was embracing, even as two were now lost to it, Maren and the halla; Merrill…



Merrill. Shy, quiet Merrill, who had been her closest friend, who had been so concerned about her when they had gone back to the ruins searching for some sign of Tamlen, who had been curious about any news the Keeper and Warden had about her cure, and who she would be saying goodbye to, forever, never to see again. Lyna silently swore to herself as she glanced briefly at the direction of Merrill’s aravel, the first time questioning if the price of her cure would truly be worth it. “Keeper, might I… have a few moments alone? To say goodbye?”



Marethari caught the glance, and giving a brief nod to Duncan, faced Lyna. Some news needed to be given privately. “Of course, da’len,” she said. “It shall be some time before Tamlen’s funeral is prepared.”



Lyna nodded, turning to head away from the main camp and toward Merrill’s aravel, not truly wanting to deliver the news about her cure. “Ashalath,” she said, approaching slowly.



Merrill glanced up as she approached, smiling, though the smile faltered as she noted Lyna’s somber expression. “What is it?” she asked. “Is there no word on your cure the Warden spoke of?”



Lyna almost broke down in tears at the sadness carried in the question. Few were as close to her as Merrill was, and she was the only one that she knew of that was close to the apprentice. “I am to be cured,” she said, taking Merrill’s hand and guiding her inside the aravel. “Though I question the cost that I am to pay for it. It does not come easy.” Even now, enclosed in the privacy of the small aravel, she didn’t want to deliver the news. Slumping slightly with the weight of the burden she was carrying, the grief she was feeling, she embraced Merrill, her arms draping over her shoulders as she held her close, wanting to lose herself, even if for a few moments, in the familiarity of the body against her.



“Lethallan, what is it?” Merrill asked, wrapping her arms around Lyna’s waist and resting her head upon her shoulder. “If you are to be cured, then surely, it is not too great, is it?”



“I don’t know,” Lyna said. “Normally, I would say not, but my cure comes at the cost of losing everything. I am to leave, never to return to the clan again.” She sobbed lightly, burying her face against the warm crook of Merrill’s shoulder. “I’m to become a Grey Warden, leaving the clan, leaving you,” she said. “Is that too great a price to pay, do the Creator’s ask too much of me?”



“The Creator’s ask much of us all,” Merrill said. “Though they have chosen to bring us together, for however brief a time it might seem, they shall never truly take us from each other.” Caressing Lyna’s cheek, she glanced up, looking into her eyes. “Even if they see to take you from us, they give us this moment to once again bond, to share ourselves.” Pulling Lyna further inside the interior, she guided them to the make shift bed. “Ma emma lath.”



Lyna followed, quietly, before sitting on the bed, falling onto her back, pulling Merrill on top of her, arms still around her as her mouth pressed tenderly, wanton and desirous against the willing mouth of the other elf, the truth of her words sinking in. It was a moment they both knew would come, that some day they would be bonded to others, but that they would always be bound to each other. Even if this was to be the last time they were together, it would enforce that bond, uniting them, uth lath. “Emm’asha, emma lath,” she whispered, hands seeking to remove her vestments as they kissed.



Merrill whimpered slightly as Lyna’s hands roamed over her, their familiarity comforting, as deft fingers worked loose the binding ties with practiced ease. Her own fingertips brushed gently over bare midriff, softly caressing toned stomach before trailing along the edges of the Dalish leather armor Lyna wore, undoing the binding ties as well. Their kiss broke only when necessary, bodies shifting on occasion to ease the removal of clothing, ending up as they always did, Lyna straddled over her. Soft green eyes looked up, locking on the dark brown ones above her, imploring her need as hands trailed over the subtle curve of hips, the slight swell of buttocks, and along back.



Lyna smiled softly, tracing a finger over Merrill’s nose before leaning down, brushing lips over neck, suckling at the hollow of her throat. Sweet, innocent Merrill, certain of what she needed, desired, uncertain in acting upon them. Planting soft kisses over her neck, Lyna allowed her hands to traverse over Merrill’s soft skin, one hand cupping a bare breast as the other travelled further down, caressing over hip and inner thighs, eliciting a soft moan as fingertips traced over lower lips, feeling the heated wetness of her desire building.



“No,” Merrill said, surprising the both of them at her protest. “Not this time,” she continued, gazing upon her lover’s face, raising a hand to caress it tenderly. “This time, I want to be first.” Lyna had always been the initiator, the dominant one, but knowing how she was feeling, both of them knowing that this likely would be the last time they would be together, she wanted to give consolation to her, making certain that neither forgot this moment.



Lyna nodded softly, rolling onto her back, leaning her head back as Merrill kissed along her torso, wrapping lips around hardened nipples, caressing them with the tip of her tongue before continuing further down. Easing her legs, open as she felt Merrill parting them, she gasped softly feeling warm breath caressing over her skin, replaced with the softness of lips pressing tenderly against her inner thigh, slowly moving inward, tip of tongue tracing along folds before pressing between them, licking, pushing further within.



Merrill flicked her eyes upward, catching Lyna’s as her tongue delved within her, tasting her as tongue flicked within, fingers caressing along the toned thighs. Feeling Lyna’s hand upon her head, fingers curling through the black tresses, gripping the small braids, she returned to enthusiastically pleasuring her lover, feeling her rocking her hips slightly against her mouth. Moving a hand upward, Merrill brushed the soft pad of her thumb over Lyna’s clitoris, caressing it lightly. She led inwardly at the soft moan escaping Lyna’s throat, the shiver coursing through her body.



“By the Creators,” Lyna gasped, whimpering more as she felt Merrill’s fingers replacing her tongue, lips brushing over her clit, encircling the erect nub, sucking upon it as the rough texture of her tongue lathed over it. Hands gripped her head tightly, holding her down upon her, though she needn’t worry, since Merrill showed no signs of easing her oral stimulation. Eyes half lidded, her head fell back upon the pillow as her hands massaged her breasts, feeling the building fire within her spreading from her center, filling her completely.



Merrill seemed aware of the changes within her as well, her fingers probing more urgently, stroking and caressing, curling and scissoring to press against that inner spot. Her teeth lightly grazed the sensitive bundle between her lips, free hand caressing over thigh and hip, fingers splayed over skin. Mouth pressed firmly against the top of Lyna’s pussy, fingers thrusting hard and fast, she was intent on bringing her lover over the cusp of her looming orgasm.



It didn’t take long, as a few moments later, Lyna moaned and gasped heavily, clenching down tightly upon Merrill’s thrusting fingers, her body thrashing as her pleasure overtook her, coating Merrill’s fingers and chin with her fluids. Merrill didn’t relent, her fingers steadily working as her mouth suctioned over her pussy, drinking in her release, tongue lapping and licking against her as her tremors subsided.



Withdrawing her fingers, Merrill slowly crawled up Lyna’s torso, lying against her as she felt Lyna’s arms envelop her. Tiling her head up, they kissed again, her mouth opening to allow Lyna’s probing tongue inside her mouth, moaning into the kiss, her hands stroking over Lyna’s breast as she felt one of Lyna’s hands trailing down her side, moving to the juncture of her legs. Automatically, she parted her legs slightly, a soft mewl of pleasure as she felt slender fingers stroking over her, parting her labia slightly before two fingers slipped within her.



Lyna shifted slightly, rolling over on top of Merrill, settling between her legs, her fingers thrusting urgently as they kissed deeply. She’d intended for the two of them to merely spend their last moments together quietly, though the realization that this wasn’t just the parting of two friends happening, that Merrill would be just as alone as she would be. Perhaps that had been what had drawn them together in the first place, both of them feeling they were outsiders in the clan. Lyna, due to the fact of her parents’ death when she was born, and Merrill, being from another clan and bearing the stigmata of being apprentice to Marethari, though being part of the clan felt alone and isolated within it.



Lyna of course had a friend in Tamlen, and had seen Ashalle as something of a grandmother, and despite being ‘headstrong’, the clan had certainly embraced her after proving to be one of the clan’s best hunters. Merrill, on the other hand, had only had Lyna as a friend and lover, other than her dealings with Marethari. They had always found solace in the other, and now, once again, both would be alone, strangers in the crowd of people they were in the company of.



As Paivel had said, now truly was their final hour. As much as it hurt her to know that she would have to leave her clan, more than likely never to see them again, there was nothing that she could relate to the pain in knowing that Merrill would be feeling the same loss that she was.



“I will be fine, ma emma lath,” Merrill spoke quietly, as if sensing Lyna’s thoughts. She wrapped one arm around Lyna’s shoulders, the other moving between legs to similarly caress and stroke within her lover as she was being caressed and fingered. “Though it saddens me that the Creators are taking you from us, they have given us this last opportunity to be together, a moment to remember each other for always.”



Saddened. Yes, Lyna was saddened too, though that was the last thing that she wanted Merrill to feel, to remember their last moment together as. Withdrawing her fingers, she wrapped both arms around her, kissing her again, moving her thigh to press against Merrill’s sex, grinding it slightly against the hot, wetness of her core. There would be memories to cherish, something to brighten the thoughts to come when they were truly apart.








It was with great sadness that Lyna made the trek from the memorial pyre to the edge of the camp, the clan lining either side. There were no words spoken; only the occasional nod from those she knew, a brief hand resting upon the shoulders of others in farewell. Though Merrill was given the smallest of partial hugs, a moment of reflecting quiet speaking volumes between them before their gazes dropped not wanting to show more though both desired to. Giving a nod to Duncan, she followed, heading away from the clan. Giving a quick glance back, she spotted Merrill gazing at her, and as Merrill glanced down, she turned, forever leaving the clan with a whispered ‘ma emma lath’. Goodbye was not something that was formally observed amongst the Dalish, and she knew that they would be mourning her before leaving, heading away from the threat that she was leaving to face.