Lavellan didn’t react to the outburst. Really, he was too used to Cullen flinging breakable things at the wall. Still, he spared a glance over the rest of the tavern, trying to give Hawke some measure of privacy. He noted the Captain further down the bar, Evie at a table not too far away, and then Dorian, who was barely visible behind a tower of books. It was so ridiculous and endearing that Lavellan smiled, shaking his head a little. Of course he’d bring books to a tavern. The elf made a mental note to knock one over on his way out later.
It took a second or two before the elf realized Hawke was looking at him again, and he flushed a little bit, caught out. Might as well offer what was left of his information on the mess if the mage still wanted to hear of it. "The prince has little power now. Cullen, Aveline, and Varric made sure of that." He’d been called upon too often to decide the fate of people and places he had no business determining. When Kirkwall needed aid, he left it to the people from there to actually decide what was best.
Still. "I’m sorry I don’t know more about where Anders is, lethallin." He wasn’t even sure how much Varric knew, or even Leliana. There had been too much happening to really dwell on that.
Merrill sounded so much like his sister that he felt himself nod when Hawke described her plight. It was the way of the First, after all, to thirst for knowledge and preserve what they could. Lavellan tilted his head slightly, searching Hawke’s face for any sign of deception. When none could be found, he decided he could trust him with the information. "They’re doorways. Mirrors that led to a road where the boundary to the Fade is even thinner. My people used it as a way to travel, but they sealed many of them before Arlathan fell."