Continuation of the previous chapter, "Light", and an explanation for Morgana's behaviour.
Supposed To Be
Morgana
Andraste's flaming knickerweasels.
She sees the others pack up out of the corner of her eye, knows they will have to go soon; after all, she has just asked them to move on. She sees him walk past her, glancing at her in surprise, and knows how odd she must look. She ignores them.
Bloody... kind... bastard...
It hit her, sitting there with his earnest words echoing in her ears, her hand clasped tightly in his - and no-one else ever touches her, they never did, not even in the Tower, so why does she allow him? - and his eyes locked with hers; a searing, chilling epiphany, singing in her veins and leaving her light headed and red-cheeked under his gaze.
Oh, Dear Maker, it's him. The second man that she meets out of the Tower, as emotionally crippled by a Chantry-dictated life as she is, with a terrifying, seemingly impossible mission hanging over their heads.
Not sure whether to be joyful or horrified, she hurls silent insults at the sky instead, one thought refusing to leave her head:
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He was supposed to be a templar, and she was supposed to be a mage, and they were supposed to hate each other until one of them eventually managed to murder the other. She certainly wasn't supposed to understand him, or befriend him, or... this.
She swallows, finally accepts the truth she's been ducking and dodging for weeks.
It's no longer friendship, probably hasn't been for a while. After all, her heart doesn't jump into her throat when Leliana smiles; the other night, she didn't find herself surreptitiously tracing the lines of the bard's face in the firelight with her eyes, as if to memorise them. No, it's him she makes excuses to heal for the contact; his humour that makes her heart a little warmer and makes her remember why she came to him; it's his presence that she feels emptier without, his warmth that she seeks like a moth to a flame.
She knows, too, that he trained as a templar, even if he isn't one, and that some lessons stay with you, aren't easily shaken off; she remembers the way she met him, his nervousness at discovering she was a mage, and her heart sinks.
No. He will never... Not a mage. It goes against everything he was ever taught.
However, there are the other memories, too, of him checking her over after both smites, of his shock at Cullen's mage hatred, of him never having wanted to go to the Chantry...
She frowns, looking back to her companions. This is solving nothing. Unsurprisingly, her eyes drift to him.
This has never happened before, and the truth is... she's sure she's not supposed to be frightened.
She shakes her head, and stands on shaking legs, heaving a rucksack onto her back. "To Soldier's Peak?" she asks, her voice coming out slightly hoarse from a dry throat, and shuts away Morgana. She is a Warden, if just for a little while, and this will not let this affect her mission.
She is also lying, and she knows it from the way she sneaks a glance at him as he fidgets, his gaze directed at a barking Brian, and finds her eyes staying unnecessarily, admiring him. This is more difficult to simply... switch off than she had imagined. He looks up suddenly, and she quickly looks away, walking to Levi and asking him to check that his supplies are intact from the attack.
They soon start walking again, and then Alistair is next to her, concerned and far too... there, all of a sudden. "Look, is something wrong?"
Ah. He is talking about her odd behaviour. She shakes her head, praying the cold will stop the warmth in her face and grasping for excuses. "I... No. My boots are practically worn through, and there are no spares. We have quite a walk ahead of us."
He nods, cocks his head in consideration. "They might be reparable, actually. They did teach us in the Chantry how to patch things up, so I'll see what I can do."
He's helping her, yet again, in a way that's so very... him - small and awkwardly offered, but sincere. This is not helping the matter of her unwelcome thoughts.
He brightens. "Well, at least it's not something I've done this time."
She smiles, letting out a small, bitter little laugh under her breath. Oh, little does he know.
Some romangst for you - a sudden chapter to try and translate the suddenness of Morgana's realisation. In my headcanon, the mages are discouraged from relationships at all, or from any that are more than physical, hence her surprise at an actual emotional bond with someone. I guess that's what an incredibly psychologically unhealthy upbringing does for you.