"Give me more credit than that," Cullen says, rummaging through the chest. "My role in the Inquisition is instructing people where the pointy ends should go, and how to get them there. And I'm not terrible at it. -- ah." Cullen stills for a moment. "All right." He seems to be bracing himself.

When he stands, it's with solemnity, a little trepidation -- and with a longsword.

Cullen turns it in his hands, holding the sword in its scabbard out to Alistair. The hilt -- and the blade, once unsheathed -- have careful, elaborate scrollwork not unfamiliar to those who grew up around Avvar and Alamarri ruins and remnants.

"Anora gave this to Lavellan after Josephine brokered talks between her and Celene." Quietly. "Properly speaking, it belongs in your hands. And your son's."