Still slung against stone architecture, positioned just in front of the device she works to finish assembling, he eyes himself in the lens of the telescope; distantly fascinated by the fact that he has a reflection again. Unfamiliar maybe, but a reflection all the same.

His smile comes easy, his chin held high.

“Fear is a powerful motivator, as they say.”

And in Thedas, demons and darkspawn and even the Fade itself looms terribly large.

“But if you’re worried about how all those shivering little sheep will respond if they find out you’re a mage under the most unideal of circumstances, just remember that this makes us even: I won’t dare let them harm a single hair on your head. Or imprison them, for that matter— war or no war.”