There's a pause between them. Nathaniel's look of anger cracks. He's a kid. It's hard not to see Thomas in him. As soon as that name gets associated with this face, Nathaniel won't have a chance.

He takes out a flask, opens it, and drinks to prove it isn't poisoned. Then he offers it to the lad.

"Fereldan whisky. You can have the rest." Whether it's taken from his hand or not, he is headed to Anders' side, crouching beside him. An arm goes around his waist.

"Can you stand, love?"