If I had not wanted to see you so badly, I might have been able to do so without inviting disaster.

[Ten years seemed long, in the wake of the journey that they had shared. In ages past, he'd have spent as much time on what felt like nothing at all— and yet that decade had been feverish, full of searching and despair, of work and effort and the exacting nature of forging the tools he would need to cut the Evanuris away from the Veil, forever. But it had been for her, ultimately. To save her life, to stop her dying— he did it for all of them, of course. But in his heart, it was for her.]

Ir abelas. I know you do not agree. [It is said quietly, the acknowledgement of the truth he had offered her, at the beginning of this lie of domesticity. It feels unnatural both ways: to hide the truth from her, and to be honest. He simply turns his face to the side, so that as she settles in against him, his cheek and mouth lie soft against her hair, and as he sighs Solas is filled with the scent of her. Here in the dark, there is peace.] Do you have any other pressing question, Vhenan?

[Is he trying to put off sleep, despite his weariness? Don't ask.]