I was going to give him brandy as is customary in Antiva, but the face Mia made.

[ It was a frightening face- not at all like this soft, warm affection present on Alistair's. Lucci seems to have worn himself out somewhat, suckling on that chilled rag lulling him into a drifting sort of slumber. Soon enough he would be a warm, dead weight in Alistair's arms.

And Zevran might manage a half hour or so of sleep. ]

Is it warm enough for her out there?