This is a companion piece to Control. Reading that is really recommended, to the point where I debated with myself whether to just put it in here, but I didn't want to repeat myself.
Controlled
Morgana
The night after the battle. On the way to Lothering
When he finally loses his temper, she surprises herself by not blaming him. At all. As much as she has tried to tell herself that he is a templar, that he is irrational and doesn't view her as human, she has watched his pain, watched him lose those he has loved so dearly, and keeping up this facade of uncaring anger is exhausting. She has watched him carefully since she met him, and when she saw the solitary tear he let slide down his face, by accident, in her sight, it went against everything she knew about the templars - strong, stoic, faceless. Suits of armour, never flawed men.
He turns to her. "So, what exactly is it about me you find so repulsive?" She reminds herself that he has just lost comrades and friends - a lot can be forgiven.
He shakes his head, continuing, "I haven't said one word against you since I've met you, but how you can be so... so unfeeling after seeing that - " He gestures in the direction of Ostagar, now far away.
She understands what he is saying, but she is angry at the accusation, and certainly not numb - that is what makes her raise her voice. "I've known plenty of friends die - mainly because of the Chantry's wrath, templar. And I am not unfeeling. I've been a Warden for a day." Now, though she hates to admit it, there may be tears in her eyes. "A day. How can you expect me to mourn those I never knew?"
"Ah, so that's it. I told you - I never actually was a templar. You're letting your own prejudices blind you!"
"They're not prejudices - they're how I was treated! The templars hated us! They dragged us to the Tower against our will!"
He stands. "I am not a templar! I never wanted to go to the Chantry! I was taken when I was ten years old, because there was no-one else!"
She has to admit, she is taken aback. Templars don't volunteer?
She shouts at him about the Harrowing, about Tranquility.
He counters with words about losing the few friends he had to lyrium addiction. "If you'd watched them scrabble in the dirt for one, lousy vial..."
She talks about being locked in the Tower.
He agrees about how terrible it is to be imprisoned, countering with how he was locked in the Chantry and how Duncan "rescued" him.
She realises, after a while, that there are no arguments left, and strides off, needing to think, his resentful eyes on her back. She has been arguing for the sake of being a mage. Her words feel... empty, hollow. She is angry at what he could have been, not who he is.
She'd heard about the lyrium, but it was a Chantry secret, just a rumour...
She always assumed she was the only one controlled by the Chantry. With the way she has treated him... she isn't sure she can blame him for shouting at her. Yet, he has still had a Chantry upbringing, will still probably smite her whenever he can...
She remembers seeing Loghain's men retreat, remembers the horror her fellow Warden - now the only other Warden - had in his eyes, and she cannot bring herself to care. He has lost almost everything he had, and they are in the middle of a Blight. Now is the time for unity, not arguments. Besides...
... The way he was treated sounds frighteningly familiar.
She doesn't want to argue anymore. She steels herself to apologise, wondering how she will drag the words out. He tenses as she sits beside him, staring into the fire and refusing to meet her eye, but she offers him a smile. It is slightly broken, with much loss behind it, but it is a start.
It's all she has to give.