And directly after it, long enough for Eamon to be the one to deliver the news that Alistair wasn't being thrown out of the country, no, of course not, but it might be better if he left for a while. But Alistair doesn't sound sad or bitter; he mostly sounds relieved. He hates long silences, unless he's using them to sulk, and doubly so now that long silences are in fact long uninterrupted stretches of the Calling.
"Eamon isn't an Arl now," Alistair says, for the sake of making conversation about something less touchy than informal exile. "He's in Denerim, advising the Queen. It keeps him busy. But his brother, Teagan, has the arling now. We write sometimes." He pauses to peer over the edge of the wall, not at anything in particular. Heights never stop being a little impressive to stare down no matter how familiar the landscape is. "Do you talk to your family at all?"
no subject
And directly after it, long enough for Eamon to be the one to deliver the news that Alistair wasn't being thrown out of the country, no, of course not, but it might be better if he left for a while. But Alistair doesn't sound sad or bitter; he mostly sounds relieved. He hates long silences, unless he's using them to sulk, and doubly so now that long silences are in fact long uninterrupted stretches of the Calling.
"Eamon isn't an Arl now," Alistair says, for the sake of making conversation about something less touchy than informal exile. "He's in Denerim, advising the Queen. It keeps him busy. But his brother, Teagan, has the arling now. We write sometimes." He pauses to peer over the edge of the wall, not at anything in particular. Heights never stop being a little impressive to stare down no matter how familiar the landscape is. "Do you talk to your family at all?"