(no subject)
Characters: dissentive & failmaleficar
Setting/Location: Training Room
Date & Time: Day 19, Afternoon
Warnings: None!
Summary: Morrigan meets up with Jowan, whom she remembers even though he doesn't remember her. Nom nom nom, blood mages etc.
Morrigan was patient when it suited her. Waiting for the water in pots to boil for food or herbs, drying certain plants, for her mother when she was young. But the notion did not suit her at this moment. She was far more curious in this Jowan, the man she so distinctly remembered - after all, it was difficult to forget the mage who had offered to drain the Arlessa completely of her blood for a ritual. To save her son, no less. Morrigan did not much understand such personal sacrifices. After all, the boy had been far more of a threat. Someone who could make a deal once could very well do so willingly another time. She glanced about the training room idly, arms folded across her chest and fingers tapping against the bare skin of her arms as she waited for the mage to arrive at their designated meeting area.
She was curious to find out how it was that he did not remember her. For Alistair's nonsense talking, she could simply default to the fact that the man - though more like a boy, really - was soft in the head. But Jowan was something else entirely. Nervous, perhaps, but not so forgetful. A spellcaster could not afford to be forgetful - though perhaps his memory would be sparked upon seeing her features?
Setting/Location: Training Room
Date & Time: Day 19, Afternoon
Warnings: None!
Summary: Morrigan meets up with Jowan, whom she remembers even though he doesn't remember her. Nom nom nom, blood mages etc.
Morrigan was patient when it suited her. Waiting for the water in pots to boil for food or herbs, drying certain plants, for her mother when she was young. But the notion did not suit her at this moment. She was far more curious in this Jowan, the man she so distinctly remembered - after all, it was difficult to forget the mage who had offered to drain the Arlessa completely of her blood for a ritual. To save her son, no less. Morrigan did not much understand such personal sacrifices. After all, the boy had been far more of a threat. Someone who could make a deal once could very well do so willingly another time. She glanced about the training room idly, arms folded across her chest and fingers tapping against the bare skin of her arms as she waited for the mage to arrive at their designated meeting area.
She was curious to find out how it was that he did not remember her. For Alistair's nonsense talking, she could simply default to the fact that the man - though more like a boy, really - was soft in the head. But Jowan was something else entirely. Nervous, perhaps, but not so forgetful. A spellcaster could not afford to be forgetful - though perhaps his memory would be sparked upon seeing her features?