Finally - some Morrigan P.O.V! Some more camp stuff, too; there will be something happening soon, don't worry.
Troubles
Morrigan
The dreams were to be expected, Flemeth told her. But as she listens to the screams of one Grey Warden, and wonders how the other, the fool, can fight when he spends most of the night waking up in the same state then getting up to do his ridiculous "exercises" so early in the morning, she realises that she had never expected it to be this bad.
She didn't enter this strange little group expecting fights, but the idiot who had no respect for the Wilds seems to have taken an instant dislike to her - possibly because of her powers, she suspects. It doesn't help that for at least the first leg of the journey, he didn't seem to be able to see past his grief to the Blight at hand. She tells herself that it doesn't matter that he hates her, even if it will make things so much harder... She cuts off that unpleasant train of thought. Just one more easily-defeated templar.
The sister, another indoctrinated by the Chantry, seems not to think in the same way, though she is depressingly... bubbly. There is nothing wrong with friendliness - anyone can be friendly if they wish to - but the constant lack of peace - she swears the woman actually bounces occasionally when she talks - and her insistence that Ferelden smells like wet dog... Morrigan grits her teeth. That, and the fact that she seems to be trying to convert her. Before she knows it, she'll have her locked in a Tower, like the Circle.
The Circle, who don't respect their powers. They don't consider that even with their smites and their armour, with sufficient numbers the templars can be overwhelmed. Sometimes the more desperate ones resort to blood magic. She feels a twinge of sympathy - it's usually learned by a wet-behind-the-ears apprentice out of a book they've found shoved down the back of a shelf, hastily, and few can ever control it comfortably. They let it consume them instead of just being a useful resource, and the Chantry has one more excuse to persecute those with powers beyond their narrow-minded ken.
She shakes her head as another thought hits her.
Like Morgana.
She has often wanted to ask her about the Tower - she has never been inside, and their library is apparently the best in Ferelden. Also, she's not sure exactly how the mages are imprisoned; her mother has told her snatches, but it might be interesting to hear it from one of the Circle - but she's sure she'd just bite her head off.
Though she doesn't want to admit it, they actually have a lot in common - there are times when the other woman seems as confused by these ridiculous social "rules" and norms as she is. After all, being locked inside stone walls is hardly a basis for a healthy social life. She remembers the woman once asking her what life in the Wilds was like; when she mentioned baiting the templars, the woman's reaction was violently opposed, and she did not bring it up again.
All of this goes in her journal - she calls it her "grimoire", not wanting to sound like a ridiculous adolescent who keeps a diary, but there are... observations in there as well as magic - in her writing, which is mostly neat, occasionally turning spidery. Very like herself, she thinks, smiling at her little joke.
She looks up at the sound of Morgana thrashing around and crying out again, still deep in nightmares. She seems to be screaming a name - she doesn't quite catch it the first time, but the second time, she knows who it is.
"Jowan," she muses, wondering what Morgana was to him, and him to her.