It is not so simple as that. ( A little sharp, harsh, though only a little. ) They are a potential means to undo Corypheus. They may yet be able to provide clues to his destruction, and we cannot lose them.
( "We benefit from their cooperation," she might have said. Cooperation, though, would suggest several members had not lied to the Inquisition, that they were not harbouring such a man as that, no matter what the Champion might have decreed.
Another time, Leliana might close her eyes, might brace herself against the force of Morrigan's words and her ire, because they are harsh and cutting, even if Leliana does not suffer as a result of them directly. She feels the impact of their meaning, not as a personal slight, but as a painful truth revealed. It is absorbed, and she stands silent, rather than making a response, and perhaps it is in part because she is not certain that it is true. Morrigan is blunt, she is honest in a way that can be manipulative and cruel and sincere, and none of those things dismiss the possibility of her being wrong. (Ten years ago Leliana would have contended that Morrigan is wrong about most things.) )
That is a question I cannot answer. ( Or that she will not, perhaps, because all the conclusions she draw are painful. Better to withdraw a little. If she pulls back too far she cannot be what she must, but of late she has let herself rise too much to the surface, has let what she felt amplify, as though they were echoes reverberating in an abandoned Chantry. Whispers were loud enough in such places, but a yell or a song? They could fill up the space until it seemed there was room for nothing else.
Leliana cannot afford that, will press them back, even if it feels as though her skin may blister and burst with the fire raging just beneath it.
A long silence - if it is allowed - lingers before she speaks again. )
We have never been close, you and I. ( "We could barely stand each other," she could say, but the words are needless. ) But I meant what I said when I told you that I would protect this Inquisition.
( By extension Morrigan and, more importantly, Kieran. Her eyes and ears tell her much, and yet she needs them not at all to know what the boy means to Morrigan, or at least... to grasp at it. )
Whatever must be done will be done.
( Though what such an assurance will mean, she does not know. )
no subject
( "We benefit from their cooperation," she might have said. Cooperation, though, would suggest several members had not lied to the Inquisition, that they were not harbouring such a man as that, no matter what the Champion might have decreed.
Another time, Leliana might close her eyes, might brace herself against the force of Morrigan's words and her ire, because they are harsh and cutting, even if Leliana does not suffer as a result of them directly. She feels the impact of their meaning, not as a personal slight, but as a painful truth revealed. It is absorbed, and she stands silent, rather than making a response, and perhaps it is in part because she is not certain that it is true. Morrigan is blunt, she is honest in a way that can be manipulative and cruel and sincere, and none of those things dismiss the possibility of her being wrong. (Ten years ago Leliana would have contended that Morrigan is wrong about most things.) )
That is a question I cannot answer. ( Or that she will not, perhaps, because all the conclusions she draw are painful. Better to withdraw a little. If she pulls back too far she cannot be what she must, but of late she has let herself rise too much to the surface, has let what she felt amplify, as though they were echoes reverberating in an abandoned Chantry. Whispers were loud enough in such places, but a yell or a song? They could fill up the space until it seemed there was room for nothing else.
Leliana cannot afford that, will press them back, even if it feels as though her skin may blister and burst with the fire raging just beneath it.
A long silence - if it is allowed - lingers before she speaks again. )
We have never been close, you and I. ( "We could barely stand each other," she could say, but the words are needless. ) But I meant what I said when I told you that I would protect this Inquisition.
( By extension Morrigan and, more importantly, Kieran. Her eyes and ears tell her much, and yet she needs them not at all to know what the boy means to Morrigan, or at least... to grasp at it. )
Whatever must be done will be done.
( Though what such an assurance will mean, she does not know. )