[Morrigan says nothing on his change in appearance. She has been a shapeshifting witch since she was a small child, able to handle a bird and cat form since she could first recall. She's about to say something when she recalls what she'd seen in his dreams. The sound that leaves her voice is almost a snarl when she asks,]
Due to the experiments they performed, yes?
[For a moment, her eyes flash red before he's greeted by the face of a high dragon, far larger than the form given to her by Astoria. She's almost the size of the Green Lion as she lowers her head to look him in the eye. She recalls the uncertain and vulnerable look in his eyes when his hair was mostly black beyond the small white tuft. Whether he'd intended it or not, he'd shown her things that should never have been shared.
Her turn.]
When templars would come for us, Flemeth would announce that the game was to "begin anew." I was to bait them further into the wilds, screaming or laughing, to where she would be waiting. I never saw what became of them until I managed to weaponize terror.
What you saw... 'twas the last time I was not expected to kill them myself.
[There's no mistaking the pride in her voice. Some things are ingrained so deep one has to be or they will make oneself sick. She's killed so many in self-preservation, she doesn't deign to give numbers. Yet she turns her gaze towards Alistair before she sighs.]
I do not begrudge them doing what they believed to be necessary. We all do terrible things to survive. [A growl echoes in her voice.] For the longest time... 'twas all that was important to me.
[She lets her thoughts drift, and the halls of Redcliffe Castle take shape. Alistair glares at her from halfway up the stairs to the next floor which houses the guest quarters, and she's almost hugging herself as she asks:
"If asking a friend to do something terrible might help... would you do it?" "You want advice? From me?" He stares at her, dumbfounded. She looks slightly disgusted. "Tis come to that, yes." He looks at her like a cat who ate the canary. "So... you have friends?" She knows what he wants her to say, but the truth slips from her lips without her even thinking as the image of Amell on the ground, bloodied beside the remains of a corrupted dragon that, were it not for the decay and disease, almost looks similar to her own draconian form, comes to mind. "Only one." Alistair stares at her in surprise. Almost as if he can hardly believe she actually admitted to something other than a 'no strings attached' relationship."If I thought it would help, absolutely," he finally says. "We can use all the help we can get." Morrigan holds herself tighter as she fights off tears. Alistair watches for a moment, gives her one last look, then leaves for his chambers. The tears finally fall and she wipes them away, hissing one word: "Weakness."
Foolish girl. Flemeth's ghost; and this time, she cannot shove it away. I warned you how fleeting love is. You let yourself grow attached and now you will lose him whether he agrees to our arrangement or not.]
cw: experimentation mention
Due to the experiments they performed, yes?
[For a moment, her eyes flash red before he's greeted by the face of a high dragon, far larger than the form given to her by Astoria. She's almost the size of the Green Lion as she lowers her head to look him in the eye. She recalls the uncertain and vulnerable look in his eyes when his hair was mostly black beyond the small white tuft. Whether he'd intended it or not, he'd shown her things that should never have been shared.
Her turn.]
When templars would come for us, Flemeth would announce that the game was to "begin anew." I was to bait them further into the wilds, screaming or laughing, to where she would be waiting. I never saw what became of them until I managed to weaponize terror.
What you saw... 'twas the last time I was not expected to kill them myself.
[There's no mistaking the pride in her voice. Some things are ingrained so deep one has to be or they will make oneself sick. She's killed so many in self-preservation, she doesn't deign to give numbers. Yet she turns her gaze towards Alistair before she sighs.]
I do not begrudge them doing what they believed to be necessary. We all do terrible things to survive. [A growl echoes in her voice.] For the longest time... 'twas all that was important to me.
[She lets her thoughts drift, and the halls of Redcliffe Castle take shape. Alistair glares at her from halfway up the stairs to the next floor which houses the guest quarters, and she's almost hugging herself as she asks:
"If asking a friend to do something terrible might help... would you do it?"
"You want advice? From me?" He stares at her, dumbfounded. She looks slightly disgusted. "Tis come to that, yes."
He looks at her like a cat who ate the canary. "So... you have friends?"
She knows what he wants her to say, but the truth slips from her lips without her even thinking as the image of Amell on the ground, bloodied beside the remains of a corrupted dragon that, were it not for the decay and disease, almost looks similar to her own draconian form, comes to mind. "Only one."
Alistair stares at her in surprise. Almost as if he can hardly believe she actually admitted to something other than a 'no strings attached' relationship."If I thought it would help, absolutely," he finally says. "We can use all the help we can get."
Morrigan holds herself tighter as she fights off tears. Alistair watches for a moment, gives her one last look, then leaves for his chambers. The tears finally fall and she wipes them away, hissing one word: "Weakness."
Foolish girl. Flemeth's ghost; and this time, she cannot shove it away. I warned you how fleeting love is. You let yourself grow attached and now you will lose him whether he agrees to our arrangement or not.]