Solas smiles, drawing her forward. His memories of Haven are of the cold snow under his feet, the shape of the houses, the chantry with the war room and the advisors. He can see it all in his mind, see the shape of it as he moves forward with Galadriel's hand in his own, letting he memory unfurl and create the image in front of him.

"It was a good place when it began. The start of something that became great." Solas hums, thoughtful. "And then Corypheus came."