He glanced down at her, raising a single black brow at her comment on his armor. Â âFor your information, I loved that armor. Â Damn Orlesian Wardens made me change it once I got to Montsimmard.â Â Maker above that had been a hard time. Â Most of his time spent at Montsimmard was spent avoiding his fellow Wardens. Â The Warden-Commander was decent there, but if every other Warden there had choked on their chicken bones, Loghain would not have been too upset.
He had missed her.  At first, it had been mere passing desires for her sensual touchâthe way her hand felt on his chest.  And as the months and  years went on, he found himself enraptured by the witch and her presence.  So much so that he would eagerly await his rest for a glimpse of her in the dreams before the nightmares.  The gentle curve of her smirking lips made the nightmares worth it.
When she took his arm, his chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. Â To feel her touch once more was heavenly, and for a moment, he felt as though he were at the Makerâs side. Â Considering his son, he panicked in his head. Â He had a son. Â He hadnât even asked. Â Dammit. Â He would bide his time. Â He didnât want to immediately douse the conversation in proverbial water like he normally did.
âOh I miss a great deal from our time travelling together.â  He swallowed slowly, trying not to think about her physical affection.  Though it came to mind anyway.  Damnable. Woman.  He was the damn Hero of the River Dale, great General of Ferelden, and Grey Warden.  Surely, he should have been able to resist a young womanâs charm.  Though, she was not young anymore.  Sure, she was no Wynne, but that old hag had looked as though sheâd lived for centuries.  But, she hadâŠgrown in a sense, matured even in the way she spoke.  And so, he grew bolder.  He took her flirtations in stride, reaching with his free hand to grasp the arm tucked beneath his own.  He ran a calloused thumb over the exposed skin of her arm and looked down at her.  To anyone looking on, it might look like a casual stroll with an old friend.  But Loghainâs eyes were like steel, never leaving her own eyes.
âIâm sure the Orlesians were insufferable, but Iâve no doubt you outwitted them in every possible way.â
â She couldnât help but grin at that. Even now, he would voice his complaints about the Orlesians. âTwas pleasant to see that some things hadnât changed over the years, despite her fears. âShould it please you to hear, I think the new armour suits you. A bit standoffish, perhaps, but you never were one to blend in.âÂ
   And back then, all those years ago when they met, Loghain stood out like a black rabbit amidst a snowy field. He seemed... almost content to do so, as well. He never shirked from the groupâs prodding. Never backed down when they challenged him and his right to be there. He was as sturdy as the golem, if not moreso. Loghain was an impressive man, but sheâd never imagined herself falling for him. The night of the ritual had been... interesting, to say the least. She couldnât say she hadnât enjoyed their time together, Morrigan simply hadnât allowed herself to think of it as anything other than a necessary sacrifice. Odd then, that there were times her mind drifted fondly.Â
   Ah, and there was that gaze of his. It was much harsher at first, biting ice to match the fiery insults. Witch, heâd oft called her. She hadnât minded. Morrigan was, in fact, a witch, but... the way heâd said it was obviously meant as an insult. Now, however, it was... almost fond, if she had to put a word to it. The very idea that Loghain might be fond of her set her heart racing. She was like a young girl with this crush, but she couldnât help it.
    Before he managed an even greater effect on her, she averted her gaze, . âMost Orlesians only see with their eyes, and even then, only what they wish. âTis a simple feat to strike just enough fear in them to maintain a comfortable distance. Unlike you.â Her lips turned up coyly, thoughts returning to nights spent by the fire, surrounded by companions she was almost able to trust. âA barrage of harsh words, running away, then near vanishing for the past years... perhaps you simply arenât afraid of anything, spending time with a witch like this.â