"You must forgive me for lacking confidence in a plan that depends in any part upon the mercy of the Veilguard," Solas replies, without rancor. Rather, he seems solemn, almost resigned. And then, abruptly, he inhales, his head coming up, "Ir abelas, Vhenan. It was not my intention to belittle your dedication."

Far morso the opposite; to beg her to relent, and free herself from the tether he had unwittingly become, a binding weight that could only cause her harm, despite their shared joy. What he had to do had never been easy, but it seemed harder now than ever before.

"I will leave you to your work," For clearly, there was no purpose in continuing to argue his side; and she, still angered, must want time alone, for her own feelings, much as Felassan did, "I should not have interrupted you."

And Solas... would do whatever he could, with the time he had. As always.