A replacement. It isn't the first time the thought has come to mind, but Lavellan has been hesitant; there is something satisfying about the lack of her arm, the way eyes flick to it back in Thedas. This is what I lost, this is what saving the world cost me, and let them not forget it. The Warden is off wherever she needs to be, and Hawke is-- lost. Lavellan is the only one left, their only reminder that there is a price to be paid, and the ones making the damn fool decisions aren't the ones who are going to suffer for it. So she goes silent about the arm, but it doesn't last for long.

His question makes her laugh, and she shakes her head. "I'm not sure I ever did. I did get a fortress out of it, if that helps?" One that came with far more baggage than Lavellan had thought previously -- the place where the sky was held back indeed. But Skyhold was a good castle, it served her well. "They die easier than that, if those are the only things that can wound what you're up against." And wasn't that a thought. "What are each of those like, if I can ask?" And is getting his face clawed at by harpies how he managed those scars?