There are words that die in her throat, caught in a gasp that's half-laughter as she tries to fight the instinct to hold perfectly still because Leliana will never forget this, she can feel it in her waters as she starts to squirm away, body curling in on itself. Her jaw clenches. She is a Witch of the Wilds. A daughter of Flemeth. The Scornful Sorceress. Arcane Advisor to Empress Celene.

She will not be reduced to this state--

"Whatever you believe," her voice is steady, it is resolute and unwavering, "you are most assuredly wrong."

Don't you dare. Even as her body tightens in anticipation.