( oh, she feels that like a body blow. doesn't sit, but grasps the edge of her desk and leans against it, exhaling— )

No, ( she says, quietly. a part of her had been relieved, realising how unready she still feels to untangle how complicated that is, that they had never reconciled so she could never disappoint him with what has slowly become her unwillingness to do that.

it doesn't not hurt. she doesn't not feel that twinge of guilt and fear, that she isn't off the hook and she will disappoint him. but it must be a relief, she supposes, that this is not that kind of complicated, now. ) No. The war, and. I thought they'd be elfblooded but human, like me, and you thought they would be like your half-elven, and we never found out who was right.

( they would have been pretty, she thinks. they would have had pretty children. morgaine, for her favourite. she wrenches herself on course: )

Our, um. I wasn't good at being a wife. And we were separated, before you were gone from Thedas. But I don't want to—

( relitigate. batter him with the worst of it. hold on, bitter— )

You and I were friends, ( at length, ) before we were lovers. And I don't want you to be embarrassed or taken off-guard by someone knowing you for Thranduil Baudin. You're a strategic man, elf, I thought it'd—

I didn't want for you to be wrongfooted. I thought, better to hear it from me.