"I know you have, kadan. I know." Seeing and hearing that weariness in Araceli makes Korrin's heart ache, even as she knows it's infected her as well. Anyone who's still alive and fighting is beyond weary, at this point. But it's either that, or give up and be killed, allowing worse fates to befall those more vulnerable. Maybe it's a futile battle, but the Qunari won't advance without her fighting them every step of the way.

Moving to lean against the desk as well, Korrin reaches over to run a hand gently through Araceli's curls, taking as much care with them as she's always done. No one ruins those curls, even herself. "Not recently, no. Barely anyone talks openly over the crystals these days, for good reason. They're still holding the status quo down south, but the status quo sucks there as much as it does here. What victories they can get are small ones, and could be easily overturned. If the north could help them--but that's just not going to happen, and we both know it. Not with the fucking Qunari spreading like a bad rash."

She picks up the bottle, a faint nostalgic smile on her lips. "Antivan brandy. I was shocked to find an intact bottle, after all this time. It was too good to keep to myself." Given that there isn't much left of Antiva anymore, they can't count on easily finding another. It also brings to mind Zevran, who disappeared -and likely died- five years ago. At least he isn't around to see what's become of his homeland.