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[ombranera]

I will write back as soon as possible.

Regards, Zevran

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[byblow]

Maybe.

[ Probably. ]

Or maybe I'll go live alone in one of the outposts in Orlais, guarding the Deep Roads, and never speak to any women ever again.

[ He isn't serious. He isn't even serious about the jest; there's a tone he gets when he's making fun of himself or lecturing himself in the third person, stop whining, Alistair, no one cares, etc., and he has it now. ]

[ombranera]

Or you could remain here and continue wooing your very fine Sabine with terrible puns, odd questions, and less than clumsy moments of true sincerity that often take people offguard. [ Maker knows he's stunned Zevran more than once with one of those too smooth, too honest comments. His heart was saved by the fact that, well.

Alistair is content on his side of the boarder. It leaves little room for hope and ambiguity of intent. ]

I have coin riding on your children being exceedingly ginger.

[byblow]

[ Beneath his SHINY NEW TAN, Alistair's face tints red, that much closer to matching his hair. ]

Not much coin, I hope?

[ombranera]

Six soverigns, more than I had on Leliana and Morrigan, because you are my favorite.

[ Never forget that, Alistair. ]

[byblow]

[ There's a quiet, spluttery sort of laugh. ]

I won't be able to have any children. Any more children. [ Taint taint taint. There's a reason Morrigan couldn't have used Riordan despite his vast superiority to every other Warden present in every way. ] But if you get it up to fifteen, maybe Sabine can convince Sabine to disappear for a few months and come back with a ginger baby.

[ombranera]

Consider it done.

[ He ruffles Alistair's hair affectionately. ]

You and she are, after all, worth it. And I would split the profits with you both accordingly.