She pauses, frowns, and then looks at him once more. "Did that not hurt?" She asks, gesturing to his legs. If he hasn't cried for anything, then perhaps he's simply not able to feel pain. Like the dwarven golems were rumored to be like -- created with a single minded purpose. That, at least she understands.

But if he did feel pain, and didn't cry when that happened? Well. Lavellan remembers the ache in her arm, the way it had been mangled beyond recognition before it had disintegrated as Solas left through the eluvian. A final parting gift, Lavellan supposed. She had cried then, near the end, as the pain of it had nearly overtaken her, as the frustration and the loss of everything had crashed in around her as the mirror went black.

it wasn't something she was proud of, no, but no one was there to have seen her. Just her and the statues Solas had left in his wake, the angry, twisted faces of Qunari forever immortalized in stone.