[ The Inquisitor tilts her glass of wine in his direction and Aedan delicately clinks his own against it with a resounding chime of glass on glass. ]

You're quite welcome.

[ Standing on no further ceremony Aedan takes a swift mouthful of his wine, savouring the heavy sweetness. It is a particularly good Fereldan variety, the kind he hasn't had a chance to taste in years and his head swims giddily at the richness of it. Clearly the Inquisition is doing well for itself if it's alcohol is anything to go by.

But at the mention of dreams Aedan echoes her laugh with one of his own, albeit a weary one, and wipes at his mouth with his hand. ]

Like the whole sorry mess might just be the result of one bad cask of dwarven ale from the night before? Yeah...

[ He grins ruefully. Aedan remembers that feeling well. ]

Bad luck. I think you might be stuck with it.

[ Jerking his head out towards the window and the sweeping vista of the Frostbacks and the encamped soldiers in the valley, he adds: ]

At least you have an army to help shoulder the load. That's got to come in handy, right?