The scrolls are bound, held. Nothing else needs gathering (he's fallen out of the habit of handwritten notation during meetings, since having had to relearn the skill due to its erasure a year ago) and so all that keeps him tethered is listening to the answer his question has produced.

The tipping of his chin, some calibration—

"Do you mean the dreams we all had or the rebel mages being offered passage into Tevinter? My familiarity."

There's no particular tone that dogs this question: a clean-cut and direct bid for clarity, aimed with steady held attention across the table.