Out Of Place
Morgana
She stands, awkwardly, staring at the Urn and out of place.
She belongs neither with Morrigan's contempt, nor with Leliana and Alistair's reverence; she isn't quite sure what she believes.
Defiling them would be wrong - she can't shake that this was a woman once, and, even with good intentions, she feels uncomfortable as she takes the required pinch and laces up the leather pouch, tucking it into her belt and looking to her companions.
Leliana is still staring at the Ashes, seeming a little in shock, and she stands next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Need a minute?"
Leliana nods, and there is a respectful silence.
It's only when they camp for the night that she lets her eyes drift to where Alistair's sitting, alone - she wonders where Leliana is - and staring into the fire, pushing down the sympathy that automatically rises within her at the sight. It seems that she's not the only one out of place.
The Orlesian voice is next to her ear before she realises what is happening. "You should speak to him."
She jumps. "Who?" She is surprised Anders ever let her in on his stunts - she's terrible at feigning ignorance.
"I... don't think he meant to hurt you."
She turns to her friend, anger twisting her features. "We aren't made for speed, or strength. Magic is the best power I have, and he took it. It was a violation. Of course it was meant to hurt!"
Leliana listens to what Morgana knows is a tirade even as she says it, then replies, calmly, "He could have just killed you. So why did he give you lyrium?"
She looks to her in surprise. "He did that? I thought..."
"We made him? No. You did not see his face when you fell."
"I..." She swallows awkwardly. "Oh." She can't help looking over to him again. "But he's..."
"... A templar? I think I have heard this conversation before, no?" A wry smile, which soon falls. "He is still Alistair. You are still Morgana. More than templar and mage."
A moment of slightly surprised silence. She begins to protest, but Leliana interrupts, standing. "It seems that the stew needs tending."
Morgana is left biting her lip, pretending not to watch Alistair out of the corner of her eye.