(no subject)
Morrigan did not take kindly to being caged.
They had captured her near Denerim, and even then it had taken an entire party of templars to subdue her, and none of them had escaped without injury. Of that, at least, Morrigan could be proud; her mother had taught her well, although not well enough in this circumstance.
Still, she was exactly where she had wanted to be, albeit on the wrong side of the cage. At first, she had shouted, shook the bars, demanded to see the King, but the guards at Fort Drakon had laughed and threatened to gag her. Morrigan had subsided somewhat, though not without more than a few muttered oaths. The guards here were foolish, little more than hired and hastily trained meat-heads. A decent blast from her staff would have incapacitated the lot of them, but she did not have her staff, nor did she have any lyrium, and she was weak, too, from her journey, as much as she was loath to admit it. No, all she could do for now was wait.
She should have gone to the Warden first, she berated herself. Not to him. It had been a foolish move, one she was paying for now, in spades. Two years away from Ferelden, nestled in the opulence of the Orlais court, had weakened her. She knew it.
Perhaps her mother had not taught her that well after all.
They had captured her near Denerim, and even then it had taken an entire party of templars to subdue her, and none of them had escaped without injury. Of that, at least, Morrigan could be proud; her mother had taught her well, although not well enough in this circumstance.
Still, she was exactly where she had wanted to be, albeit on the wrong side of the cage. At first, she had shouted, shook the bars, demanded to see the King, but the guards at Fort Drakon had laughed and threatened to gag her. Morrigan had subsided somewhat, though not without more than a few muttered oaths. The guards here were foolish, little more than hired and hastily trained meat-heads. A decent blast from her staff would have incapacitated the lot of them, but she did not have her staff, nor did she have any lyrium, and she was weak, too, from her journey, as much as she was loath to admit it. No, all she could do for now was wait.
She should have gone to the Warden first, she berated herself. Not to him. It had been a foolish move, one she was paying for now, in spades. Two years away from Ferelden, nestled in the opulence of the Orlais court, had weakened her. She knew it.
Perhaps her mother had not taught her that well after all.