In the interest of both seeing you and my brother at least temporarily distracted, as he has come pouting to me over his lack of a lovelife and resigned himself to the company of Shale should he seek romance? A few hints:
He will trust compliments after you have teased him better than compliments given on their own, which I am certain you already know but it holds true no matter how long you know him.
He needs attention terribly and once you give him leave to contact you he will call at odd hours of the night with terribly asinine questions and observations, possibly about nug feet.
As much as he likes cheese it is not the only way to his heart, food of any kind will do- so long as it is not spiced. His palate is thoroughly Fereldan.
Contact settles him more than words. A hand on the shoulder, flicking his ear, if you hold his hand even in jest? He will turn a delightful shade of red and sputter and deflect but be deeply pleased.
He likes things that prove you've thought of him, if you are to give him gifts- but prefers simple items. Wooden carvings, rune stones. Things that he can carry easily as he is a warden and owns little.
[ Somewhere, Sabine covers her eyes and lies horizontally as Zevran's little voice emanates from her sending crystal with its advice. One comfort she has is that she feels like Alistair would probably be terribly embarrassed to know that this is happening. ]
Zut alors, [ is something she never says, that Orlesians never say, and yet comes out of her mouth now. ] Pettings, food, attention.
It is a terrible responsibility, caring for him. But I think you will manage. Don't forget to walk him regularly, he does get so bored if locked up all day.
[ Alistair is going to kill him. Or at least try to kill him. There will be an attempt in the future and Zevran? has no regrets whatsoever. ]
[ She is definitely going to share this, mark her words. ]
Then I shall wear him out.
[ Dohoho! You know, eventually. Unless she sobers up, looks at her life choices, and does anything else. Her riposte is also a little on the undersell, as if she isn't sure she will be the one to do that after all, whether due to her own change of mind or his. ]
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[ --is both her her lack of admission as well as confirmation about potentially having feels enough to hurt, despite herself. ]
I am sure a good one will fall from a rift whenever we like, any day. How is le petit chou anyway? Breaking hearts already?
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[ A safer subject, to be sure. ]
You should see Alistair play with him. It is ridiculous. He swoops Lucci about as though he were a dragon.
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I have a gift for him. For when he is a little older, but not by many. It is-- silly, perhaps. I know with you, and here, he wants for nothing, but.
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[ She is drunk, her moods and priorities can shift with the wind. ]
That is all the things I had to tell you about. Ask about.
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He will trust compliments after you have teased him better than compliments given on their own, which I am certain you already know but it holds true no matter how long you know him.
He needs attention terribly and once you give him leave to contact you he will call at odd hours of the night with terribly asinine questions and observations, possibly about nug feet.
As much as he likes cheese it is not the only way to his heart, food of any kind will do- so long as it is not spiced. His palate is thoroughly Fereldan.
Contact settles him more than words. A hand on the shoulder, flicking his ear, if you hold his hand even in jest? He will turn a delightful shade of red and sputter and deflect but be deeply pleased.
He likes things that prove you've thought of him, if you are to give him gifts- but prefers simple items. Wooden carvings, rune stones. Things that he can carry easily as he is a warden and owns little.
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Zut alors, [ is something she never says, that Orlesians never say, and yet comes out of her mouth now. ] Pettings, food, attention.
[ He really is a Mabari. ]
At least I tease well.
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[ Alistair is going to kill him. Or at least try to kill him. There will be an attempt in the future and Zevran? has no regrets whatsoever. ]
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Then I shall wear him out.
[ Dohoho! You know, eventually. Unless she sobers up, looks at her life choices, and does anything else. Her riposte is also a little on the undersell, as if she isn't sure she will be the one to do that after all, whether due to her own change of mind or his. ]
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[ Please get that boy laid and get laid yourself. Please. ]