Ten paces from the door, he recognizes one voice: Leliana. Unsurprising.

Five paces out, the second voice joins it, and Alistair stops in his tracks.

He hasn't heard Cullen sing very often; not since they were young. Age has roughened his voice, but it still carries clear and sweet. He rests a hand on the door frame, debating -- and then silently slips inside to lean against a wall near the back.

...And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all