Moonspear take charge of your life

Her claim upon replenishing that which she's used of the Moonspire was believed, at least; her claim upon her own claim, however, was met with perplexity; enquiry. ...Which was to be suspected, the stricken supposes, though she parts her lips once more all the same:  "It has not made me forget."

Perhaps it was nothing more than abandoning her own brood. Perhaps it was her unwillingness to further strive to provide when it had become so keenly known how unfit she — Aurëwen — had been for such. Perhaps, then, the lightning truly had struck her into an enigma of whoever she had once been. Perhaps she meant to not return for fear of the sky opening, come to cleave her once more; yet, her return may have not been at all welcome, either way. Perhaps all three might despise her until the ends of their days, for it. Perhaps it was all of these things, bleak and blunt; perhaps still it was none of them at all.

Nothing was ever certain.

But with reawakening had come the ideal that reputation is merely speculation of the assumptions of others by word of mouth. And if the queen thought her a brainless, blighted fool as well ... Andraste felt no stirrings of indignation that she once would have. She was simply ... awaiting.

"My dove has told me that ze seas have drowned ze coast. There is a weald that he has in his sights, which I will depart to, then."  Eyes listed to the quieted Lyra, before resettling upon the queen.  "It remains to be seen if the world will fracture beneath those hinters as well. But, I would not be against further tutelage of your children, should you wish it so."