"At least then you would live! You would have the chance to live!"

The broom impacts the floor like the crack of a whip, and her eyes blaze as she advances on him. Coward that he is, Solas cannot quite suppress the urge to step back; a controlled retreat. Complicity, then, and the imagined suffering of another, was that the root of her objection? Was there no way out of this, then?

Or, perhaps, there was. But only by the last, ever-present road. Terrible as that path was, it neatly severed all problems, satisfying all the requirements, if only he had the courage and the will to carry it out.

"Then I will not," He says, desperately. Something must give, and Solas was willing that it be himself, "But I cannot simply accept your... to plan to sacrifice yourself in this way. I cannot. Please."

There is no other way.