It had been too great of a risk, but there were worse ways Conlan could have reacted. Ignoring it was probably the best way. Ordhan was not certain if he were up to the conversation now, anyway, especially with what yet remained to be said.
"Perhaps," Ordhan answered. "The Darkspawn are a threat to everyone. I hope they will see that." Of course, these things always liked to be more complicated than they ought to be. Despite the elves' aid in the last Blight, and the concessions made to them afterwards, it wasn't enough to erase decades of violent hostility. Though Ordhan was certain that no one in their company hated elves as much as many humans did, he could not be sure if that would be reciprocated by the Dalish they were to meet. Even Lalin's presence may not help; he knew that they did not see elves who lived among humans and those that lived separate from them as one and the same.
Hopefully Faer would be less reserved with his own kind; even counting the brief conversation the two held towards the beginning on their journey, Ordhan had only heard him speak once or twice. He seemed content to leave decisions and discussions to his fellow Wardens. Such would not be possible later on, especially if the other Wardens were depending on him.
Conlan was on his second bottle, now, and soon Ordhan would have no excuse for waiting. His hesitation was becoming obvious: the ocassional flick of the eyes away, the way one hand fingered the handle of his mug. It could hardly be called fidgeting for the average person, but for Ordhan, the contrast with his usual manner made the restlessness all the more clear.
"Conlan," he began, determined to continue down the path once he had begun on it, "There is something I need to give to you."