Morrigan reached out to help him with the cheese. She was tired; she wasn't used to using that much magic at once out of combat, and combat was rare these days. She touched his knee, casting another small heal spell to try and help.
She shook her head. "I don't mean the things, Brother." She cleared away some shrapnel so that she could sit on the floor in front of him. She frowned when he mentioned the clothes. She had wanted to give him a chance to recover, but she certainly didn't want him to guess what had happened. If there was a delicate way to say it, Morrigan didn't know it. "I slept with Zevran." He had every right to hate her, but he was the one person that she really hoped wouldn't.