Alistair stays silent for a moment. He keeps his hand on Cullen's shoulder; squeezes it again, a little more firmly this time.

"It's not a skill you lose forever," he murmurs. Realizing how that must sound coming from him -- especially after all the coaxing it took to get him away from the ladder -- Alistair huffs out a breath. "I'd hope not, at least. And the dreams..."

Maker, it would be nice if they were all dwarves, wouldn't it.

"It's only been a couple of years without lyrium. You took it for -- a decade, almost. The spirits in the Fade will get bored of that novelty soon enough."