"'Tis true," Rhocanth agreed, briefly lifting his eyes to the sky. The stars had become no less impressive than the first time he had seen them. They still reminded him of holes poked through a thick, dark blanket. "There is no set definition of honor, not even amongst my people, though we venerate it so." He was thoughtful for a moment, then added, "My sort of honor is such that one should try to cause the least harm to those around him, and to ease their burdens when resources allow. It's the way of a good leader. Being on top of society does not mean taking advantage of it. It means caring for its health and prosperity. My brother told me so. He is the head of our house now."
The bitterness returned briefly, a flash before his eyes. Needless to say, if Rhocanth was out here in the cold and far away from Orzammar, such ideals were not so well-favored amongst the nobility. It took a crueler hand than he had to survive in the bloodbath of dwarven politics. Perhaps if he had spent more time amongst his peers, and less with scholars... no, that would have made him miserable. Even Azrunath had known his weaknesses, that he had only been fit to be second, not the lead. An assistant, a gentle voice of truth and scholarly ideals... a veritable target for voracious social climbers. He needed the protection and guidance. He dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.
He thought once more upon Falina, safe now as she was curled up in her tent. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, immune from all bidding to stay detached. "Do you really think so?" he wondered, casting a demure glance up at Imenry. "How can you tell? I thought it was in her nature to be friendly and outgoing. Her reservation early on was simply fear."