#m.morrigan

Maybe this was a mistake she would regret dearly. Maybe this was the right thing to do. As she had been pacing because she had felt him, she wondered what really kept her from just going through the Eluvian and never to be seen again, not by any of them, and especially not by him.

Morrigan wasn't one to attach herself to another so easily, but her dear warden did play a number on her heart. The most guarded thing about her and he had pierced right through it. Love, however, did not have a place here, not with who she was and who was after them all. She thought that by not being with him, by focusing on their son, she could protect them all. Clearly her heart was screaming hard enough for her to remain on the steps of those stairs.

She turned to face the mirror, her finger glided on the purple surface as it reacted. Behind her, she heard footsteps, hushed whispers and then the silent clinging of an armor. She knew that cadence like one knew home, a long craved one. "You kept the ring" she uttered in a softer voice then she usually used.

Morrigan hesitated to turn around, face the one she was actively trying to flee from. She was a proud woman however and believed in her resolve to leave facing him. She slowly turned around and her amber eyes glided on his form, he had changed in ways absence alone made visible. Hair, armor, maybe a bit taller than she truly remembered. She had worked so hard to forget his face, forget anything that tethered her to him and yet, when her eyes met his.

Her presence in this camp was not a good omen, that’s what the whispers had said when she landed, dark glasses giving her an even more stern figure as she followed the head of command into one of the tents. It was, it seemed, a highlight to have the CIA be there. Conjoint missions since 9/11 however were happening, and they were happening fast. She had given her intel. It proved rather fruitful , and the team she had been assigned to had been half decent at not getting themselves killed nor her.

Well, it did not prevent them to shove her against some structure, injuring her arms on some barbed wire sticking out. She would have bitten the man’s head off, could she shapeshift in a creature capable of it. She was not useless , she just chose to be what the mission had required. Americans were just crude and unrespectful of certain things.

She did not despise them, but they did not inspire her to really welcome the culture in her heart. Maybe she was too Russian to even grasp those concepts they were so proud of. She had bandaged her arm herself while holstering her weapon. And was told upon returning to meet with the medic at MASH to get checked out.

Morrigan watched the man in front of her with a blank expression. Her golden eyes calculating if she should just slit his tongue or his throat by the second he was talking. She let the file just rest in her hand while her attention was on Alistair. "You flatter yourself that I would even entertain the idea of calling you either ambitious or clever. "

She averted her eyes to look back at her file. "It wasn't insult, but an off hand comment on the target. If you were actually using what is between your ears to register what is happening around you, maybe you too could claim at least an ounce of cleverness. "