He had always wanted to dance with her. It didn’t matter if it was some Chasind dance or something he had to perform in a ritual. The desire was always there, but the chance never came. And knowing Morrigan, he knew the chance would never ever come.
Yet he takes her hand into his as the first notes of a dance rings throughout the ballroom. Amusement quickly colors her features to which he replies with laughter.
“We’re in Orlais. No one knows us here. No one will judge.”
“I do not dance, warden.”
“Humor me,” he whispers, “just this once.”
For a moment, she is quiet. Then she smiles that smile she never shows anyone but him.
“You are impossible,” she says as her fingers slide in between his.