Cullen sits back and folds his arms casually. It's less of a defensive posture than getting comfortable. It's late. He has time for a talk if this is what it's going to be. "Believe it or not, not all mages down here want freedom. No one is holding a leash or collar on those left behind. They could have left with their fellows the night the Gallows fell. They didn't. People in the south, non-mages, fear them. Many would as soon kill them as look at them. Many of them came to us from exactly such circumstances. I've lost count of how many mages I've pulled off of pyres or down from gallows, rescued from burning houses. This isn't Tevinter. If they left, it wouldn't be better than it is right here. Some of them know that still."

He frowns and reaches to tap a finger on his desktop. "Regardless, it's not my call to make. I answer to the Divine. She has yet to make her will known. Until she does, I maintain the Circle as it is to the best of my ability and try to undo the damage my commanding officer did during her tenure." There's a tiredness that creeps into his voice when he mentions Meredith and a hollow expression in his eyes. It's still hard to reconcile the woman who greeted him when he stepped off the ship to the person she became ten years after the fact.

"I know Aveline. She'll want it from you, however brief or sketchy on details." It would also ensure that she understood there's a Tevinter in their midst and that Cullen trusts him enough to bring him into important things. It will help the man in his dealings in the city in the coming weeks.