Breath catching in her throat, she still manages a laugh, surprised to be certain, and not quite delighted but definitely pleased. Sometimes it's easy to forget (or not easy, this is Morrigan, she collects everything in the same way that crows and magpies collect interesting shiny things, so perhaps she was simply more comfortable with forgetting) that Leliana is so strong. No one has ever done this and it's the newness of it coupled with that sense of finally that softens her smile.

She isn't one with romantic notions who will come out and say that yes, her spiteful words ten years ago were to hide some hidden feelings. But time has changed her, softened her, and she has never been here before, not once. She wants to be. And perhaps strangely there is no one else she would trust with this than Leliana.

(Morrigan is sure she must know somewhere. In that way that they share messy mirrored parts that overlap imperfectly. Morrigan is utterly her own creature for better or worse for the first time in her life.)

For the first time since their dance she sees Leliana as Leliana. One hand strokes through her hair because she can, because it lets her steady herself enough to think when Leliana is stealing her wits once again.

"I think you and I have said more than enough to one another," Morrigan replies because it's Morrigan, and she does so like to get the last word when she can. "Let me offer an alternative."

Only Morrigan would say all that before leaning forward for a kiss, but a Witch of the Wilds still has a reputation to maintain.