- See also: Lace Harding
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My darling Lace:
I hope this letter finds you healthy and happy. Last week, I managed to barter for maps of Ferelden and Orlais from Hugin, the old soldier who rents the place on Mistress Johann's farm—you remember him, don't you? Quiet man, always smoking a pipe in his chair on the porch. He wasn't using the maps anymore, so I gave him some of my jam and patched his coat in exchange for them. Now, whenever you tell me of your travels, I'll be able to track where you've been. I'm astounded, my darling, when I look at the weave of dotted trails I've already marked out on my maps. Oh, the places your feet have touched! How far you've gone, my little Lace. I am so, so proud of you. When I was your age, I'd only ever gone as far as Lothering. My mother never left Redcliffe; she lived and died there. And now here you are, flying so far with so much purpose. My mind can barely comprehend it, but my heart swells.
I shan't take up too much of your time. I know how busy you are. I am looking at the Frostbacks on the map as I write this, because I know you will likely be at your Skyhold. Please make sure to dress warmly. I have included the recipe for your favorite turnip-goat stew. A taste of home to stave off the cold mountain airs.
Kisses and hugs from me and your father.
Mother
