Another idea that's been rattling around in my head for a while; one of the things I regretted was that you didn't see much in the way of interaction between Leliana and Morrigan within the game. I know this time around, they're both more peripheral characters, but it would have been good, in my opinion, to hear some conversation between the two regarding their past, or, as in my case, the Warden romanced Leliana and went ahead with the Dark Ritual, a mention from Leliana to Morrigan of the little matter of the latter sleeping with the former's lover and fathering a bastard child as part of some blood magic ritual for her own ends, that sort of thing.
This will be a trio of connected shorts that fit into the canon of From The Ashes (trying to marry up what I wrote with the events of Dragon Age Inquisition) and make some interactions between Morrigan and Leliana that I would have liked to see: this one, involving Morrigan and Leliana's first conversation with each other for over ten years, the second, which will have Leliana and Cecily dragged into the confrontation between Morrigan and Flemeth (one of my favourite parts in DAI) and finally Morrigan and Leliana burying the hatchet for good and wishing each other well as the former leaves Skyhold after Corypheus's defeat, just my attempt to write and expand a bit more with two of my favourite characters within the Dragon Age setting. Progress will be a bit slow on this, thanks to real life and the fact I'm working on several other projects elsewhere, some for here, others as part of novels i'm writing for publication, but this will get done.
Spoilers for Dragon Age Inquisition and the epilogue of From the Ashes are involved in this. As always, reviews and comments are welcome, and I hope you enjoy my latest attempt to delve into Thedas.
Skyhold, 2 weeks after the events at the Winter Palace
"Mother never told me the Inquisitor was an elf"
"The ears gave me away?"
"No, your blood is very old. I saw it right away"
"Kieran! Are you bothering the Inquisitor?"
"Of course not, Mother! Did you see what's on her hand?!"
"I did. T'is time to return to your studies, little man"
Kieran repeated the groan of frustrated boredom he'd made as Mother had chivvied him away as he lowered his quill back to the parchment, making more notes, as Mother had instructed, regarding three different accounts she had left for him to read regarding the Battle of Hunter Fell. So far, he'd determined that the most accurate was most likely a transcribed account of the words of Molech Coteral, a casteless dwarf and a Grey Warden who'd been a part of the final assault to bring down the archdemon Toth- the other two, one written by the Nevarran nobleman Isaac Pentaghast, the other by the Orlesian chevalier Ser Patrice Bouchard, were primarily using their recollections of the Third Blight's final battle as nationalist tracts to aggrandize the accomplishments of their nation's own military contributions to the battle, while denigrating that of their rivals.
He'd also determined that whatever Mother was having him look for, searching for it was extremely boring.
Since his arrival at Skyhold, he'd been keeping mostly to himself, though this time it was more out of the fact that so few knew him or had their own tasks to prioritise, as opposed to the sense of uneasiness and distrust that the nobility of the Orlesian court had exhibited towards him and his mother because they were both something out of the ordinary that flew in the face of so-called 'cultured' Orlais. The only people who'd really noticed him besides Mother had been the Inquisitor- a spindly elven girl of nineteen years who was polite enough to stop and talk whenever she passed or help him find a particular book or scroll whenever Mother sent him off to the library to study, an older male elf with a shaven head, an ascetic build to him and vulpine features who never spoke to Kieran but who the boy often saw studying him with great interest, as if trying to puzzle out what he was, and a red haired woman about the same age as Mother dressed in worn leather armour over chainmail beneath a hooded purple cloak whom Mother had identified as the Inquisition's spymaster and an old travelling companion of hers, before warning Kieran to keep away from her. So far, he hadn't encountered the spymaster, but every so often, Kieran caught her looking at him, either from across the castle garden or from her tower window, biting her lip, studying him with pale green eyes, her expression always torn between distrust and uncertainty, as if she wanted to say something to him but wasn't sure what, until she realised he was looking and retreated. As a result, Kieran had mostly kept to himself in their quarters, flicking through books Mother had left for him, slowly going crazy with boredom...there was only so much a child of ten could do in a military fortress to amuse themselves by themselves. About the only thing that the constant researching was good for was that it left him too tired to dream, sparing him from the same sights he saw in his nightmares nearly every night; a burning city, pallid-skinned monsters with curved swords and spike-festooned armour slaughtering anyone they could find, dragging the helpless kicking and screaming from burning buildings, and above it all, a monstrous dragon, its scaly hide the reddish-black hue of an infected wound, laying waste to all in its path with torrents of sickly purple fire from its maw...
Something small clattered across the floor, interrupting his concentration; Kieran looked down and saw it was a date stone. Another ricocheted off his right ear, accompanied by a mischievous giggle. Kieran whirled round in his seat, but there was no sign of the laughter's source. Kieran bent back to his studies, only to feel another date impact with the small of his back. He looked round in time to hear another mischievous giggle and spotted a flash of red hair as the culprit darted out of sight behind the room's door, then peeked around the corner of the door to see if he'd noticed. Realising she was caught, the girl slowly revealed himself- about his age, she looked like a younger version of the spymaster, tall and thin, the same vibrant red hair and shape of the face, though her hair was a long fall that reached past her shoulders and her eyes were a vibrant shade of blue. Her expression became contrite as she approached, holding out her hand, revealing several more dates- likely swiped from the castle kitchens without the cook's knowledge. She was wearing practical clothing suitable for both day to day wear and to attend court (juding by her look, the way she carried herself and the fine attire, Kieran guessed she was nobility), her attire jet black with slight trims of red along the arms and chest fashioned in the shape of Ferelden iconography-hounds and dragons-, and high riding boots that looked well made, if a little scuffed in places in a way that suggested she'd been running in them.
"Finally" the girl remarked, cocking her head to one side as if trying to make sense of why he was still sitting there, a playful gleam in her eyes as she jerked away towards the door. "All you've been doing since you got here is sit with your nose buried in those dusty old books; I've seen you, you go to the library, come back here and stay here. You're sitting in a castle whose halls haven't been walked for at least five ages, there are so many places to explore and see and yet you're just sitting here?!" she finished, looking incredulously. Running a finger over the spine of one of the books Mother had dumped in his possession from the castle library, the girl continued "You clearly like history, so why are you not walking around this place that has so much of it to see?! Come on, I'll show you what I've found so far!"
"Mother said-"
The girl cut him off with a snort. "Mother, smother. Come on, you're not spending another minute in here. Besides, your books will be there when you get back; that's what my mother says is one of the great things about books, they can't run away. Come now boy, the lady insists!"
"Forgive my manners, my lady. As you wish. I am Kieran" he introduced himself as he moved away from his desk, bowing low in the style of the Orlesian court as Mother had taught him. The girl, to his surprise, didn't curtsey as would be the proper response in Orlais, but reached out, grabbed his arm at the elbow, his fingers closing around hers out of instinct, and firmly shook it in what he recognised from Mother's teachings as an informal form of greeting from Ferelden.
"I'm Cecily. Cecily Cousland"
Leliana tossed aside the latest reports her agents had brought her- more old news of the Venatori ransacking ancient elven ruins for whatever purpose their master had for such looting. In the aftermath of the events at the Winter Palace and the death of his lackey in the Empress's court, Corypheus had abandoned his holdings in Ferelden and northern Orlais, the remaining Venatori cultists and Red Templars he had at his disposal all moving towards the jungles of the Arbor Wilds far to the south, towards whatever prize they hoped to find in that wild and dangerous expanse. Already, the Inquisitor and her advisors were making plans to pursue, root the enemy out of whatever hole they were hiding in within that forest and crush them underfoot once and for all.
It had been more than half a year since the disaster that was Haven, and the progress the Inquisition had made since then was truly outstanding. The victory against the manipulated Grey Wardens and now the 'success', to an extent, at the Winter Palace, to say nothing of their triumphs across Ferelden and Orlais had done much to rouse spirits that had been decimated by the destruction of Haven. The inner buildings were all refurbished, and rebuilt when necessary, giving the people a large and stable environment to live in, and the upper echelons of the Inquisition peace and security to lay their plans, train their soldiers and decide how best to continue pressing their advantage against the Elder One and his lackeys. The outer defences had been strengthened significantly that-in the unlikely event of a Venatori or Red Templar force penetrating so deep into the mountains- the next time the enemy brought the fight to the Inquisition, they'd be ready for it. The battlements had been repaired from fine stone quarried from stone, and every inch of it was ready to be manned, with ballistae and onagers ready to rain death and destruction on any attacking force, or hopefully if the Maker was with them, shoot Corypheus's monstrous pet out of the sky.
Still others had and continued to find their way to Skyhold from all corners of Thedas; veteran soldiers from Ferelden, servants and tradesmen from Orlais, mercenaries from Antiva and the Free Marches, to name but a few, offering their services to the Inquisition, the Maker and the Inquisitor in exchange for help and shelter. The Inquisition was finding itself with more servants, labourers and cooks than it knew what to do with - everyone that could was being put to work, replenishing the ranks to take the places of men and women killed in battle, working to craft ever more weapons and armour or grow the food needed to equip and feed the Inquisition's ever growing numbers, or simply labouring to continue the task of restoring Skyhold to its former glory. All efforts were contributing marvellously to the Inquisition's strength and credibility, turning the "ragtag band of the deranged, the deluded and the corrupt" they had initially been branded as into a force to be reckoned with.
This day however, Leliana didn't feel much like celebrating their progress.
It had been several weeks since the incident in Halamshiral, where they had placed Gaspard on the throne with Briala at his back, pulling the strings, granting her, the elven people-and her patrons in the Inquisition- an unprecedented amount of power in Orlais and the wider world, thanks to the Empire's connections. Many of Skyhold's people saw this as a great victory for the Inquisition, and as did Leliana for a day or so- until she heard that... that she would be coming to stay at the castle, to help in the fight against Corypheus.
Even before they received the invitation to Halamshiral, Leliana had known who the Empress had kept as her Arcane Advisor. In the War Council's meetings, she would often avoid talking about the Winter Palace Ball in an attempt to rid her mind of the woman who had saved her lover's life, albeit at a cost that still rankled in the back of Leliana's mind. During their time at Halamshiral, Leliana had even seen the woman a handful of times, and at one point their eyes had met across the grand ballroom, before the witch gave a curt nod and walked away.
So naturally, once they had returned to Skyhold, Leliana had retreated to her spiderhole in the Rookery and she stayed there, too nervous that she would run into her old travelling companion. Or more precisely, her old travelling companion's child. The witch's son.
Arthur's son...
The thought sent an icy shiver down the spymaster's back, and caused her to completely lose focus on the report in front of her. She sighed in defeat and stood from her seat, stretching her legs as she rose. Leliana moved to the window, looking down at the castle grounds beneath her, her eyes searching for her daughter. Inevitably, she found Cecily running into the gardens, smiling at the sight of whatever mischief her little girl had gotten herself into, but Leliana's next sight was less welcome; a young boy hot on her trail, his right arm outstretched as if to grab the girl's shoulder, both so intent on their game they all but bowled over Cyrene Lavellan as she was walking towards one of the garden's benches, sending the collection of papers in her hands- diplomatic notes from Josephine, reports of battles and skirmishes compiled by Cullen and a small journal Leliana had seen the Inquisitor accept from Solas moments before- flying in all directions. Leliana recognised the game as one she'd played when she'd been the same age, and watched on as the youths continued their game, only now with the addition of the irate Inquisitor pursuing the both of them, shouting a litany of spells, curses and frankly impractical threats about what she'd do when she caught up with them. Both were laughing as they ran, Cecily looking back over her shoulder as she turned sharply, ducking out from under the grasp of her pursuer's arm and urging Kieran to run faster.
This had become a habit for the children; playing together, chatting together, even exploring unknown rooms and winding passages up and down the length of the castle together. Leliana had been uneasy at first when Cecily had settled into bed one night and had told her mother of the latest adventure of the day, the main one being meeting her new friend Kieran, who Leliana knew instantly was the witch's son. The following nights had followed a similar pattern-listening to Iron Bull's war stories and Varric's tall tale-telling in the tavern, running odd jobs to help Cole improve the moods of the people around the castle, grooming and feeding the horses in the stables under the supervision of Master Dennet and Blackwall, running out of the kitchens with the last of the blueberry tarts in their hands and an annoyed Cassandra after them...
She couldn't deny she was uneasy about their newfound friendship; more than once, Leliana had thought of telling her concerns to Mother Giselle, or Josephine maybe. But once she had seen the boy from her window, playing happily with her daughter, she pushed the thought away. She hadn't seen Cecily nearly as happy as she was with Kieran for a long time; though she didn't regret her decision to take her daughter away from the Fereldan court for her protection after what had happened at Haven and an attempt by the Venatori to assassinate King Alistair in his own palace, she knew it was a bleak and lonely existence high up in the mountains. Unlike at the royal court in Denerim, where Cecily had been surrounded by the sons and daughters of the nobility, there were few children of her own age to keep her company at Skyhold, and as a mother, the last thing Leliana wanted to do was destroy the girl's happiness by forbidding Cecily to talk to her new friend. Plus, Leliana knew her daughter well enough to know that banning Cecily from spending time with Kieran would achieve nothing; if she forbade her daughter anything, that immediately became Cecily's heart's desire.
Another reason she couldn't speak of her concerns was that, deep down, some part of her was grateful to the boy. If it hadn't been for his conception, she would have lost Arthur to the Archdemon. It allowed her and Arthur to have a child of their own, to marry and try for a life together. It allowed Arthur to go in search of a cure for the taint. She could never hate Kieran for giving her all that, despite who his mother was.
The children tumbling to the ground had brought her out of her thoughts. She saw Cecily nod to Keiran, and the pair split up, extorting a frustrated growl and a fresh litany of Dalish curses from Cyrene Lavellan as the Inquisitor's marked hand clenched shut on air where her daughter's shoulder had been seconds before. Leliana watched as the elf paused, trying to decide which ragamuffin to chase down first, before settling on Cecily. Leliana smiled at the display, before her attention was brought elsewhere, her smile disappearing quickly.
Her gaze was stolen away from the pair running from the elf, to a dark haired woman sat on one of the garden's benches, shaking her head in amusement at the spectacle. Her dark locks swayed in front of her golden eyes as she shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. She had dispensed with the ornate reddish-black ball gown Leliana had seen her wear at Halamshiral; instead, to Leliana's amazement, Morrigan was wearing the same attire she had donned when they first met in Lothering back at the start of the Fifth Blight, the ragged purple vest that seemed to be for the purpose of exposing her ample bosom rather than covering it, adorned with the same collection of feathers, beads and magical charms and fetishes whose purpose escaped Leliana, along with the black leggings that clung to her limbs. Leliana could also see that child-birth hadn't taken its toll on her body; Morrigan looked as trim and slender as she had all those years ago.
Before she could look away from the woman who had plagued her mind with worry all those years ago, the witch shifted her gaze from the children on the ground and looked up at the spymaster, her smile receding when their eyes met. The dark haired woman gave a tight smile, which Leliana forced herself to return. She couldn't quite place it, but something was... off about the apostate. True, Leliana hadn't even spoken to her, but there was something in her appearance - in her pale gold eyes - that had changed. They were missing something.
Before Leliana could speculate further on what was missing, she found herself heading towards the stairs that led to the castle's gardens. She couldn't explain what had goaded her to do so, but she knew she had to meet with the witch again.
Stopping under the archway which blocked her view of the gardens, Leliana took a deep breath. A small part of her was telling her to back away, that it wasn't too late to run back to the Rookery and attempt to finish looking over at the reports. She shook her head, taking another breath before stepping forward, drawing a sense of calm confidence from the peaceful atmosphere and scent of freshly cut flowers from the soil beds, the scent of blood lotus particularly strong, as Cyrene favoured growing large quantities of it for use in the grenades she liked to carry in large abundance into battle.
Cecily and Kieran were still running for their lives from the pursuing Inquisitor, racing down the staircase that led from the battlements into the garden with the elf hot on their heels. Many of the guards and servants about the place were watching the spectacle from the alcoves or the balconies overlooking the garden, laughing, clapping and cheering Cyrene on, which only seemed to infuriate the elf more as she continued her unrelenting pursuit of the two youths, this time out through the garden and into the great hall.
Not too far away, the witch had moved from her bench, and was now stood under one of the archways looking into the garden, languidly leaning against the wall. Leliana noticed how the woman wasn't watching the game anymore, but rather looking over to the Bard; the look in her eyes made it clear that she had expected Leliana to come.
Moving from her place under the tree, the apostate began to walk toward the spymaster, smiling at her son as he looked at her as he and Cecily passed. In that instant, Leliana knew what was missing from the witch. The casual cruelty and arrogance that had come so easily to her were both seemingly gone; all the sharp edges had been sanded down. Leliana glanced back at Kieran and smirked. 'Becoming a mother has done that woman a world of good,' she thought.
Catching sight of Leliana, the witch motioned for the bard to approach with an inclination of her head. There was a silent pause as the two women stood watching the game, before the witch ended it with a chuckle. "She favours you in looks, but I think there's plenty of her father's spirit in there too," she commented. She looked over to Leliana, a small smile prying at her lips. "She's a credit to you both" Morrigan said with a sincerity to her words Leliana knew wouldn't have been there ten years ago.
"Thank you" Leliana replied curtly, an awkward silence following for a few moments before Leliana attempted a compliment of her own. "Kieran…he seems like a fine young man".
Morrigan made a noise of agreement as she idly inspected her nails, watching as the two ran back into the garden and ducked behind a stand of blood lotus flowers. "He always has," she replied. Another long pause followed (broken only by the sound of Cyrene spotting the hiding children with a gleeful yell) until Morrigan addressed the dragon in the room.
"When did Arthur tell you the truth?"
"A few weeks after Cecily was born". Leliana still remembered the look of anguish on her husband's face as he made his confession of that sin, the wellspring of betrayal, grief and fury that exploded in her chest at his words, the litany of curses and insults she'd screamed at him, the look of dismayed horror as she struck him full across the face, followed by several objects aimed at his head (a bejewlled goblet and the Thorn of the Dead Gods he'd given her as a token of love during their courtship during the Blight among them), before seizing their crying daughter from a cradle, hitting him full in the face again when he tried to stop her from leaving and threatening to make a eunuch of him if he dared to follow her, her last look at him sunken on the floor beside the door frame in despairing sorrow as she slammed it behind them and ran for the Vigil's stables before he could come after her.
"When Arthur told me what you did…I was so angry, I wanted to hate the both of you, to think you both beyond my forgiveness. For a long time, I did. I was so angry at the time...I said many terrible things about him, about you both. I threatened to divorce him, that he would never see our daughter if I had my way. I took Cecily and hid away at court for a time. Alistair knew something was wrong but he was kind enough not to pry...at least until the tension in the palace got too much for him, and apparently the rest of the court to bear"
"Tension?" Morrigan probed.
"Arthur found where I and Cecily was; I wouldn't see him, but he refused to leave until I did. Everytime he tried to talk to me, I fled to another part of the palace to evade him. That lasted for days, with my face apparantly enough to terrify the servants and curdle milk...until finally Alistair tricked me into a walk with him in the palace gardens, locked me and Arthur in there and orderered the guards not to let us out until we'd settled things..." In her mind's eye, she still remembered that grey summer day, shaking the wrought iron gates locked in front of her, shrieking a litany of curses, insults and threats at Alistair's retreating back (most insulting his heritage, claiming he was the product of the union between one of his parents and some form of farm animal, along with a catalogue of the elaborate, violent and in some cases, impractical things she'd do when she got her hands on him), demanding he bring back Cecily, asleep in the king, her godfather's arms (Alistair having refused to, in his own words, 'let a little girl be used as a weapon in whatever madness is going on between you two'), continuing to shriek at him long after Alistair was gone from sight, and only then reluctantly turning to face the garden's other occupant with a wrathful glare as he stood watching her with sad, regretful eyes besides the fountain at the garden's centre. By the start of their talking, they'd been practically shouting at each other; by its end, when she'd finally let him have his say, once he'd told her what he'd done and why, made clear that he knew the consequences of his actions and the fact he would live with them for the end of his days, Leliana, while not quite in the mood to forgive him, was at least willing to walk the path of marriage again and allow Arthur to earn a second chance. She was still angry with the both of them, but deep down a part of her knew Morrigan and Arthur hadn't done what they had to hurt her; their motives, if not their actions, had been pure.
Leliana shook her head, wondering if what she was about to say next was something she really out to tell the witch. She let out a breath before turning to the witch. "Thank you, Morrigan," she said sincerely. "If you hasn't proposed that... if you hadn't offered, I would have lost him. I would have lost them both. Maker, Cecily might never have been born to me without your...'intervention'. I... thank you."
Morrigan's smile had disappeared as she listened, and she looked over to the spymaster again. "Do not think that what I did was completely out of charity," she replied. "T'was more for myself than for him."
"Even if it was for selfish reasons, I cannot be ungrateful for my family," Leliana insisted. "As I'm sure you aren't ungrateful for Kieran, no?"
Morrigan gave a light chuckle and nodded, before looking out to her son. "I suppose not" she replied. There was another silence as the two women went to their own thoughts. "Kieran and I have been here for nearly a week, and I have noticed that Arthur seems to not be present," the witch commented to break the silence.
Leliana nodded, her eyes growing sombre. "He's been gone from Ferelden for several years now. His last message to me a few months ago said he had landed in Qunandar, along with Oghren and several other Wardens who volunteered to accompany him. He wrote that they hoped to gain an audience with several scholars there who might be able to offer a new insight into their searches. That is just one avenue he is following in pursuit of his goal…"
"What does he seek?" Morrigan asked curiously.
"A cure for the taint. It's taken him years to get to this point, but...but he's confident he's close to the end of his search".
Both women could tell the atmosphere had changed at Leliana's words; however, Morrigan's curiosity was far from sated for them to stop their talk.
"I would have thought he'd have returned by now," she said idly. "I went to Ferelden, but-"
"You've tried to find him?" Leliana questioned, surprised by the admission.
Morrigan nodded. "Many years ago, when Kieran was much younger; like all children who grow up knowing only one parent, he wanted to know where he came from, who he owes parts of himself to. He knows that his father was a good man, but I had hoped they would meet, if only once. I was certain the last time Arthur and I met, back in 9:32 when I was researching the eluvians that it wouldn't be a good idea, but now I'm not so sure. It would be good for Kieran to know his father; considering some of the men I have met in my travels, I would want the example for Kieran to follow to be Arthur, the best of them...and Kieran seems very enthusiastic about the thought; back when I first mentioned it and then tried to change his mind, he wouldn't hear of it. My son can be quite stubborn when the mood takes him, as I imagine your daughter is" Morrigan opined, and for a moment, Leliana wondered if Morrigan had known about her earlier discomfort about Cecily and Kieran befriending each other.
"Another thing they've gotten from their father..." Morrigan opined, and both of them laughed together for the first time, remembering how boneheaded and stubborn the father of their children could be, as they had seen him be during their travels together. Thinking back to all those years ago, Leliana remembered Morrigan promising that they would never see her again, that after the Archdemon was defeated, she would leave the world and not return. Looking to her now, Leliana could see that the witch had grown considerably since they last met. Morrigan was willing to put Kieran before herself, believing that her child had a right to know who his father was, and even more, to meet him. The Morrigan she'd known a decade ago would have never allowed that to happen. "He's changed you," Leliana told her.
In that spilt second, Leliana saw a glimpse of the old Morrigan in the scowl that crossed. "Don't be absurd," she scoffed. Leliana smiled at her haste in denial, but chose not to press the matter by teasing Morrigan any further, changing the subject.
"Where did you go, Morigan?" Leliana felt compelled to ask. "Your disappearing act after the Battle of Denerim left so many questions…"
Morrigan sighed deeply, as if the memory of her choices since the end of the Fifth Blight still haunted her. Leliana had never expected to see regret on Morrigan's face- the witch had always, in their youthful adventures with the Wardens, been so self-assured, so confident that she knew the best course of action- but the expression on the other woman's face could only be that emotion.
"Tevinter was my first choice of refuge. I needed to locate as much information as I could about the Old Gods, and the heartland of magical power seemed at the time a safe place for myself to hide and gather strength until Kieran was born and could come into his own. I passed myself off as a progeny of that smirking worm Caladrius- with anyone who knew otherwise lynched in the back alleys of Denerim's alienage, there was no one to challenge the claim, or perhaps no one in the Imperium who cared. I found myself a…a 'patron' and used him to gain access to the libraries and private collections of Minrathous, Vyrantium, Qarinius…I learned a great deal in my time there thanks to that 'arrangement', information that I sorely needed, and as for my 'patron', I only had to endure his presence sparingly, only having to debase myself with practices beneath me a few times. A few months after our arrival in the Imperium, he was seconded to the latest Tevinter military debacle with the intention of pushing the Qunari off Seheron, and I never saw him again before my departure".
"Departure?" Leliana asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I left Tevinter under something of a cloud…as you might expect when you rob your patron blind, kill three of his acolytes and set his villa on fire to cover your escape" Morrigan explained, pausing with a slight laugh at the incredulous look on Leliana's face at the throwaway manner she described making an enemy of a powerful magister in.
"But why did you leave? If you were set up so well in the Imperium, why cast it all aside and return to the south-?"
"Because I wanted no part of that place for myself or my son. Especially not for Kieran" Morrigan retorted, and Leliana felt a sense of approval at the witch's word. The Morrigan she had known a decade ago would never have put the wellbeing of another ahead of her own ambitions. 'For all her protestations, motherhood has changed her for the better'.
"Tevinter might have been the birthplace of Man's civilisation in Thedas, but now it is a rotting carcass of its former glory, the bones slowly being picked clean by the Qunari and its own kind, drowning in a fugue of self-aggrandizing delusion and decadence that are steadily failing to hide from Tevinter's population that its rulers have all but lost their war with the Qunari and are only concerned with clinging onto their perceived rightful status by any means necessary. And that knowledge is breeding dangerous things – the nationalist sentiment that created the likes of the Venatori was rampantly prevalent in the Imperium long before Corypheus came to prominence. Many of the younger generations amongst the Magisterium, my patron among them, felt the only way to turn the tide against the Qunari was to try and ape the might of the ancients, either too arrogant to realise or uncaring of the likelihood that trying to replicate the actions of the ancient magisters would only result in as great a disaster as it did for the ancients, if not more so. I can only assume that Corypheus was willing to indulge them when the Magisterium would not, and I am willing to wager many of those I encountered during my time in the Imperium have risen high in the ranks of the Venatori. I can provide you with names, locations, details of what kind of forces such men and women command. These zealots need to be stopped before they and their master obliterate this world, and I will provide you with anything I can that aids you in bringing them to heel…and proves my dedication to your cause" she added with a sly smile. Leliana nodded in gratitude for the information, glad to see yet more evidence of how Morrigan had changed, her self-serving demeanour and willingness to keep matters of value hoarded to herself gone, or at least diminished from before.
Their eyes were taken from each other when Cecily and Kieran had, once again, tumbled over each other as Cyrene leapt on them with a howling Dalish battle cry, wrapping her slender arms around their necks, though they could see in the elf's emerald eyes that she was merely contributing to the game. Leliana smiled in amusement before indicating to Morrigan that they should probably go rescue their children from the Inquisitor. As they made to get up, a thought came to her. "Do you think we should tell them that they're brother and sister?" Leliana asked the witch. Part of her wondered if they didn't know already; both were clever, and could probably have made the deduction themselves...'Would it bring them even closer? Or just taint what they have now?'
Morrigan looked toward the children again, considering what good could come from them knowing about their shared blood. Eventually, she shook her head. "No," she said. "What good would it do? T'would be far kinder in the end that they didn't know."