Sunbeam Lair ❝elyë lantanë melmessë sonen,❞

Again, this moment;
yet rather than flay her with the fear of it, this golem retreated entire into his very self with such a silence that made the vulnerable and bareness of her shiver; ache. Again; the shame of feeling so truly a thing; the balefire of it ripping through every frayed nerve; the shrieking of it renting her spine anew. But more than that were the words he so spoke; and how she wished to kneel before him, reach for him; to tell him it was not so. For it was her doing again, this, was it not? Too much, she; too much, surely; reforged or no; yearning the feel of his spirit so near hers or no.

And yet, forever adamant:  "I already am."

But! this shame, as envy, had no place within her  (save for the pressing of all she had uttered), for though her features faded and faltered into moonglow inscrutability, both had exhausted the well of all that had been felt and had been said. And so his Andraste  (Aurëwen?)  says not a thing more; cannot be galvanized into further fascination as quiet shrouds starlit and stygian;
and thus it is with a murmured well-wishing of his return meander to the people he so sought to sacrifice for, of  "Auf wiedersehen,"  that the fairylight rises, and soon takes her own leave — lest he call after her slow, misted step; parting from the echo of him against all of her.