[There is a quiet moment. A moment where a small breath escapes as if she has been stabbed, and well, that is close to the truth. When the moment is gone though it is gone entirely; there is a snarl, her lip curls like a wolf's would, her eyes flash dangerously.
If she were the kind to throw things she would but Morrigan's anger starts cold and quiet, her voice low as if being pulled from somewhere deep within her. Her turn to lean against the table, to curl her hands into fists as she speaks through clenched teeth.]
He spoke of motivation. Of 'feeling the wind beneath his wings'. We spoke of shapeshifting, if I was accepting students, telling jokes as if that would aid his cause. An invaluable backup, those were his words, when he spoke of staying free of supervision. [Leliana should know. Morrigan's tongue is less guarded when she's angry and she is furious. Perhaps once she would not have been so, perhaps once she might have applauded or simply sat back to watch what happened but while there is no love of the Chantry in her heart, her world is more than simply her. She can defend herself easily enough but she has a son. She has a son and her son is here, and Anders is here.
It isn't hard to imagine what will happen when the word gets out. There are already Wardens. There are Templars who cannot agree on a path. A Mage Council with Vivienne sitting there and observing all as she does from her balcony.
Anger is better than fear.]
The Wardens have taken him? The Wardens who have come here to do what, exactly? To offer their usual silences and half-truths.
[And then another reason for the anger wakes, stirring as her voice drops back to a whisper.]
no subject
If she were the kind to throw things she would but Morrigan's anger starts cold and quiet, her voice low as if being pulled from somewhere deep within her. Her turn to lean against the table, to curl her hands into fists as she speaks through clenched teeth.]
He spoke of motivation. Of 'feeling the wind beneath his wings'. We spoke of shapeshifting, if I was accepting students, telling jokes as if that would aid his cause. An invaluable backup, those were his words, when he spoke of staying free of supervision. [Leliana should know. Morrigan's tongue is less guarded when she's angry and she is furious. Perhaps once she would not have been so, perhaps once she might have applauded or simply sat back to watch what happened but while there is no love of the Chantry in her heart, her world is more than simply her. She can defend herself easily enough but she has a son. She has a son and her son is here, and Anders is here.
It isn't hard to imagine what will happen when the word gets out. There are already Wardens. There are Templars who cannot agree on a path. A Mage Council with Vivienne sitting there and observing all as she does from her balcony.
Anger is better than fear.]
The Wardens have taken him? The Wardens who have come here to do what, exactly? To offer their usual silences and half-truths.
[And then another reason for the anger wakes, stirring as her voice drops back to a whisper.]
He knows, doesn't he?