Summary: An Apostate, a Mage of the Circle, and a conversation that should have happened. Morrigan, m!Surana. No ships.

A/N: Takes place during the Broken Circle quest, right after finding Wynne. Basically, I was tired of Morrigan b*tching about the Circle when she has no idea what it's like there. The dialogue options only allow for "Oh, I love the Tower!" and "I hated the Tower they should all burn!" I wanted something in between: distain for the Circle, but aware that he could not escape and felt pity for his fellow mages. So my m!Surana had to chew Morrigan out a bit. :D

He honestly could not take it anymore. She had been like this since the Tower first came into view, but after finding Wynne she had become even more obstinate.

"You have no idea what it is like, do you?" He spat, bitterness sneaking into his words.

"Beg your pardon?"

"I see the way you look at me, sometimes." He was not flirting with her, not this time. "In utter distain, like I'm some sort of animal. But you have no idea what it's like in the Tower."

"Oh. That. Of course I wouldn't know what it's like in the Tower, fool. I would never allow myself to be caged like some sort of dog."

"There! That's what I'm talking about—you have no idea what it's like inside the Tower." He growled at her. "Tell me, how old do you think I was when I first arrived at the Tower?"

She rolled her eyes. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"I was seven." He howled, furious. "The Templars showed up in the Alienage one day and dragged me kicking and screaming, away from my parents and my sisters. They didn't even tell me why. They just picked me up and left." He breathed in deeply, trying to steady his growing anger. "I didn't even know what I had done wrong. One day I was home with my family and the next I was gone."

His words had no impact on the Witch. "If you were strong, you would have es—"

"Picture it, Morrigan." He snarled. "I know there is no sympathy in your heart, but try. Humor me, for just a moment and picture it. Picture being watched, every moment of every day, by men whose only job is to kill you. Imagine being a child and being told you are the reason there is evil in the world, the reason the Maker left. Imagine it."

She didn't pause, pursing her lips just so. "I would have escaped—"

"There is no escape." He interrupted. "You cannot leave the Tower."


"If you leave, you die." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I can—"

"You can't." He scowled. "You leave the Tower, and the Templars hunt you. They hunt you, and they never stop hunting you. And what's worse, they have you phylactery. They can track you down. You can't escape, and when they find you, they will kill you."

She snorted. "They are welcome to try."

"There is no try: there will be eight or ten of them, grown, strong men of arms whose only purpose is to seek and destroy. And there is only one of you, with no powerful abomination-mother to protect you. No one will help you, because they believe you are an evil that must be destroyed. And there, alone and frightened in the wilderness, the Templars will kill you, all because you valued your freedom."

She sighed, giving up. "I suppose you are right. I don't know what it's like, being in the Tower."

"Of course you don't." He snorted. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"It's still not right."

"Of course it's not right!" He howled. "It's everything but right!" He yanked her arm and forced her to look him dead in the eye. "But don't you ever, ever let me hear you talk to the Mages of the Circle like dogs again! These men and women are dearer to me than blood kin, and I will not abandon them to the Templars!"

And with that, he pivoted, anger flaring all around him.

Morrigan never spoke ill of the Circle again.


A/N: …And then he decided to shack up with Zevran instead.