There will come a day when Morrigan will get her out of that armour, locking and warding a door behind them so she can make her pay for each and every moment of this until they are both gasping. For the moment she is shaking again - she is a novice at this, there has been only that night with Alistair, a night she doesn't think of because he did it to save the his life, a friend's life, and the life of a man he hated, and she did it to gain something she never thought she would love. Nothing prepared her for this. That it is so sweet, so tender, that Leliana who said such things in the eluvian and fears what her hands have touched? It makes it all the sweeter and she would capture this moment forever if she could.
"You are not mistaken in this," she clarifies because of course Leliana would be maddening in this. "Tis most unexpected. But never unwelcome, believe me when I say that: never once is this unwelcome."
This is her heart laid bare, cut neatly in two and pressed into Leliana's palms when she gives herself to each and every touch. A different person, perhaps a better person (a simpler one, a foolish one, a kinder, gentler one who has not seen or felt the teeth that the world has) would wish them to have felt less pain but Morrigan is realistic. Their pain makes them who they are, and perhaps there are times when she has wished and will again but they are who they are, and it has shaped them into this.
"Never doubt that," she repeats, and kisses her again, her hand on Leliana's hip, the other under her chin; her touches are heavier, deliberate. I am real, I am here, I want this and you are wanted, I am going nowhere, you will not be rid of me so easily.
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"You are not mistaken in this," she clarifies because of course Leliana would be maddening in this. "Tis most unexpected. But never unwelcome, believe me when I say that: never once is this unwelcome."
This is her heart laid bare, cut neatly in two and pressed into Leliana's palms when she gives herself to each and every touch. A different person, perhaps a better person (a simpler one, a foolish one, a kinder, gentler one who has not seen or felt the teeth that the world has) would wish them to have felt less pain but Morrigan is realistic. Their pain makes them who they are, and perhaps there are times when she has wished and will again but they are who they are, and it has shaped them into this.
"Never doubt that," she repeats, and kisses her again, her hand on Leliana's hip, the other under her chin; her touches are heavier, deliberate. I am real, I am here, I want this and you are wanted, I am going nowhere, you will not be rid of me so easily.