"Urgency? Is that what you call it? It certainly took long enough." She cups Leliana's face in her hand, wondering what it was that she saw in the Fade or the Approach that finally tipped her far enough to finally come here. But they have agreed not to speak of it, and Morrigan can push the questions down for later, because she's too wary of this too-fragile thing held in her hands at the moment, the pair of them positioned utterly ridiculously, yet she wouldn't trade any of it.

(Not even the hurts, if she is brutally honest, and Morrigan is not good at many sorts of honesty other than that or shading it with various lies of omission where she holds back the whole truth until it suits her.)

Her stomach tightens; she's ticklish, and there are silver lines where Leliana's fingers are, stretchmarks from Kieran that Leliana won't have the way Leliana carries scars where Morrigan does not.

"Though...a part of me did not entirely dare to hope. I might have worn my gown had I had warning."