[A noble's war, then, and it's not inherently unfamiliar, not to him. He spent ten years of his life (and more) watching nobles play politics, never mind all of Hawke's misadventures within Kirkwall's circles.]

It typically is.

[He pulls back: not far, but just so he can see Lorenz's face, studying him in the semi-dim light. The sun has long since set, but the moons light combined with the lights from the city illuminate them both. Lorenz looks different in the neon lights than he does during the day, pale skin seeming to glow.]

So you went to war to protect others. To keep you and yours independent, and thus theoretically free.

[He hesitates, then reaches for him, fingers brushing through his hair in a rhythmic pattern.]

There must have been fights you remember in particular. Incidents or whatnot.

[There are multitudes of battles, but surely there must have been a Significant Few.]