Only Zevran knows that Morrigan even has a life that extends beyond Kieran, her work, and varying attempts at friendship, at least coming from Morrigan's own lips. And Zevran again shares something of the same fractured life, and was thus the only person who could be approached for advice without compromising herself or Leliana. Everyone else was too much of a stranger, or Alistair. (If there is one who must surely be worse at this than her, let it be him, let her always have that to hold above his head even if the jests are friendlier these days when they play at spirited re-enactments of the Battle of Denerim where Alistair shows more passion for winning than even Kieran does.)

"I could be worse," both of them know that, but she is smiling, teasing again though she is too old to truly be coy. It's just them. "I am the wicked witch of the Wilds after all, such is my nature, you were never put off. Not even when dressing me in your mind to all those around us."

Unlike then though, tis not most disturbing now. Tis most welcome. Only she has to stifle a gasp and a laugh at that touch, the way her body shudders. No, no she is not ticklish, that would be absurd.