There was no easy answer to give. Arlathan was long gone. Tevinter had claimed and conquered. The Dales had been crushed, and now Halamshiral had burned as the nobles sat in the high quarter. The clans scattered so far that even she encountered very few on her journeys. "Change is coming to the world," she said at last, because that at least was true, and the tavern with the name and sign above the door allowed for such, here in Skyhold where the sky itself was held back, where the stone drank old power and magic. "What I do...I look at it as a chance to stop the world from becoming mundane. That is the way to look at it."

But she was older. She had lived a hard life with Flemeth, she had so long to do this, to pick over ancient things and to bide her time, and she has a son to prepare for a destiny. She can afford patience.

"Some. Much of what I have found is fragile, people are welcome to come to my study to make use of it but well, we are all aware of what happened with the eluvian, as well as how quickly rumour spreads when anything elven is involved. Precious little of it can be called close to kind." Ellana had been leant a journal Morrigan had made herself provided it be returned to her before leaving Skyhold but after the eluvian, she is wary. Nodding towards Katniss or rather to what she had on her person, she leant across the table, to keep the words between them. "Between you, make a copy as soon as you are able. Better if you make one each."

There was a reason witches had kept grimoires after all, and another reason so few journals left Morrigan's study? She had written the notes herself, painstaking hours until her hands, wrists, and eyes ached from it.