[ He has never slept half so well as he did in a bed alone. The press of a familiar body- of someone he trusted should danger come to his door, someone he trusted not to take what he would not wish to give-
He never had that before. He may never have it again. Doghren snuffles into Alistair's shirt as Zevran does the same to his chest, eyes squeezed closed against an uncharacteristic burn of sentiment.
Nothing is lost in this. Nothing is truly gone. Alistair is alive, he is will, he will simply be further away. Pouting about it is childish. ]
no subject
[ He has never slept half so well as he did in a bed alone. The press of a familiar body- of someone he trusted should danger come to his door, someone he trusted not to take what he would not wish to give-
He never had that before. He may never have it again. Doghren snuffles into Alistair's shirt as Zevran does the same to his chest, eyes squeezed closed against an uncharacteristic burn of sentiment.
Nothing is lost in this. Nothing is truly gone. Alistair is alive, he is will, he will simply be further away. Pouting about it is childish. ]
I demand a replacement.