[ Nell acknowledges his eyebrows with lift of her own and a tilt of her head that together form a shoulderless shrug. ]

There's a chair-- [ she gestures at the desk across the room in offer, then turns her back to shed last night's clothes with shivery efficiency, hauling on clean shift and robe in its place. She drags a blanket from the bed behind her as she moves to join him. ]

Sounds perfectly miserable. Camping on the ice?? Maker, it's a miracle the Inquisition has any mages left.