[ Alistair makes a grumbly noise that doesn't mean anything, or
maybe means something so complicated--I suppose it makes sense for her
to worry about her brother but I don't care for him myself, especially not
as much as I care for you, so I can't approve of her being up there for his
sake instead of down here for yours, but, also, do not really blame her and
do not want to argue--that it's just easier if we say it doesn't mean
anything. ]
You're serious about her, though, aren't you? When-- [ if, but shh
] --this is all over, you'll keep on?
[ Well. If he must put words to it. If he must explain how he thinks forward in so much that he doesn't, he hasn't had to, it's not his way. Assassins plan things day to day. Anyone else he'd offer a line but this? This is his brother. ]
Honestly have not thought that far ahead. If she would have me; if she would have us? Yes. I think.
[ The jamming elbow catches him on his hummed first comes and turns it into a half-laugh burst of an exhale, which is just as well, since to make the song accurate for Zevran and Mia he'd have to rearrange it a little.
But-- ]
I don't know what you're talking about. [ Airily. But he's a bad liar. ] We're talking about Mia. And how if she does want to come down, you can't say no because of me.
[ Mia will...either adjust or make certain he keeps to his side if he wishes to crawl in. Explaining the nuances of their relationship will be difficult if only because he doesn't know...how to describe it. ]
We might all fit on just as well- or you would have room at the foot of the bed.
I won't always be around. I mean— [ He doesn't even mean dying. The Wardens will need rebuilding, darkspawn will need killing. But he abandons that train of thought, because it's depressing and he doesn't want to argue. ] If you do ever need me to stay somewhere else, I promise I won't cry or ah—throw any precious heirlooms at walls. This time.
Enough of this talk. [ Careful as to not jostle his son, Zevran shifts enough to be curled half on top of Alistair, as is his custom. Draped upon him much like a cat. ] You have as much a right to my bed as Mia- she is Fereldan. She understands these things. You belong here, with us. We are family. Why is it that I am the one that is most certain about this?
[ His tone is just as defensive as if Zevran had called him a liar or a thief, but it's followed shortly by a relenting noise and an arm hooked up around him. He doesn't want to talk about his stupid feelings. ]
What do you get when you cross a rabbit and a frog?
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[ Alistair makes a grumbly noise that doesn't mean anything, or maybe means something so complicated--I suppose it makes sense for her to worry about her brother but I don't care for him myself, especially not as much as I care for you, so I can't approve of her being up there for his sake instead of down here for yours, but, also, do not really blame her and do not want to argue--that it's just easier if we say it doesn't mean anything. ]
You're serious about her, though, aren't you? When-- [ if, but shh ] --this is all over, you'll keep on?
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[ Well. If he must put words to it. If he must explain how he thinks forward in so much that he doesn't, he hasn't had to, it's not his way. Assassins plan things day to day. Anyone else he'd offer a line but this? This is his brother. ]
Honestly have not thought that far ahead. If she would have me; if she would have us? Yes. I think.
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You are such a child. When will you and Sabine get your nonsense finished so I might mock you over your sentiments, mm?
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But-- ]
I don't know what you're talking about. [ Airily. But he's a bad liar. ] We're talking about Mia. And how if she does want to come down, you can't say no because of me.
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[ Mia will...either adjust or make certain he keeps to his side if he wishes to crawl in. Explaining the nuances of their relationship will be difficult if only because he doesn't know...how to describe it. ]
We might all fit on just as well- or you would have room at the foot of the bed.
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[ Is Zevran also serious? He can't tell. It isn't entirely outside the realm of possibility for Alistair to sleep on their feet like a mabari. ]
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[ He stills a moment as Lucci fusses, curling deeper against his chest. ]
I am past the days of having wild orgies, this bed? Is for sleeping.
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[ He is no longer serious. Was no longer serious; he is already switching back to his serious voice. ]
She could be around more than me. For Lucci.
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[ He snorts a soft laugh, shifting to tuck his cheek against Alistair's shoulder. ] He needs his uncle as much as he needs her.
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[ His tone is just as defensive as if Zevran had called him a liar or a thief, but it's followed shortly by a relenting noise and an arm hooked up around him. He doesn't want to talk about his stupid feelings. ]
What do you get when you cross a rabbit and a frog?
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[ He tips his face up enough to peer at Alistair through the darkness, eyes glinting in the dim light. ]
I am, as we elves say, All ears.
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A bunny ribbit.
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