Northstar Vale das gericht

She spoke not, now;
through glen and glade was the General lead, with the boreal’s back ever to him and the red latticework woven o’er fair musculature;
the ache therein one of myriad reason that Undómiel eventually drew him to the cascades of the baths which she had all but kept revelation on to her own self — the faint sulfuric findings of which were to be gifted unto her own Courtiers, what with a bargain struck and the hopes of flourishment yet to come. But this was not where she meant to converse with him, no;
and neither was it the cathedric lagoon which she cautioned him the descent of, with its smoothed crag of limestone, great sun-lights within rafters, and its own demand for more than one pair of wary eyes, no;
instead, she murmured all else, and wound her way ‘cross the low ridges from this yawning chamber in favor of the thrumming network otherwise; and it was one such path that the fée delved down down down, until—

"I misspoke,"  Andraste lent, speaking now of the moment that had just occurred and, hesitantly, perhaps, of her ... last moon’s profusion. T’was not entirely her focus, that, as of yet; for she then quieted, and shrugged her way into some unassuming alcove amidst this shame she had again brought unto herself — and discontent she had brought forth of his;
sat herself down near the sulfuricless and warmed waters; furled her brow into the marred reflection; shoulders softening.

"I did not think that I would see you again."  She surely could not say all that had already been said; but peered at him from over a surrender of a spire, features now thawing without her leave — tried to hold his eyes with her own, if for only the sake of ... she did not know.