Alistair closes his eyes. His fingers continue their work through Cullen's hair.

"It does add a certain injury to the insult of it all," he says, not much louder. There's another beat of silence. "I have to believe we can find other ways for you to serve, after all this. We'll have time together. It's not as if I'll go up in a puff of smoke after the Council ends, even if -- we can't truly know how much time we have left."

He exhales.

"And I hate to hinge so much on blind hope, but there's still Cousland's work. I'll write her. See how that's been going."