You are not responsible for the emotions and whims of others, Alistair. Caring is well and good but how were you to know? She is not always the most open about what she feels or the most forthright when it comes to expressing them. The fault is not yours. Nor is the fault hers. It is unfortunate, but later you will both look back upon this moment and laugh.
[ He does sound like he feels better, though. Better enough to squirm around onto his back, with his head kept deliberately in petting range, and fish the ring she gave him out of his pocket.
It isn't fancy in the scheme of fancy things, but it's well-made. Fancy by the standards of people without a lot of money. There's a griffon on it. ]
What do I do with this? I don't want to make her cry again.
If you've no intention of courting her, you give it back. Gifts given as a sign of a certain manner of sentiment- should that sentiment not be returned? Are not to be kept. Either you can return it or I can return it, either way. I do not recommend keeping it.
If, perhaps, later she offers it to you in a gesture of friendship? By all means. Keep it.
[ He. didn't fully know not to keep it. That would have been his guess, though, if he hadn't had Zevran around to confirm it. ]
It's a little specific, that's all, unless she's going to start cycling through Wardens. If it would upset her to have it back I could sell it for her. [ Or: puppy eyes, even though Zevran already offered. ] Would you give it back? Or find out what she wants?
[ Zevran's hand continues to move through Alistair's hair, as soothing a gesture as he knows. Stepping forward to solve his problems for him-
Alistair is a man grown, this is his to mind. But Beleth is...something. A friend of sorts, he supposes, and she has been wounded in this enough for him to put forth the effort to smooth things over. ]
I'll speak to her tonight. Sooner is better than later.
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. ]
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.
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.
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[ He does sound like he feels better, though. Better enough to squirm around onto his back, with his head kept deliberately in petting range, and fish the ring she gave him out of his pocket.
It isn't fancy in the scheme of fancy things, but it's well-made. Fancy by the standards of people without a lot of money. There's a griffon on it. ]
What do I do with this? I don't want to make her cry again.
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If, perhaps, later she offers it to you in a gesture of friendship? By all means. Keep it.
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[ He. didn't fully know not to keep it. That would have been his guess, though, if he hadn't had Zevran around to confirm it. ]
It's a little specific, that's all, unless she's going to start cycling through Wardens. If it would upset her to have it back I could sell it for her. [ Or: puppy eyes, even though Zevran already offered. ] Would you give it back? Or find out what she wants?
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Alistair is a man grown, this is his to mind. But Beleth is...something. A friend of sorts, he supposes, and she has been wounded in this enough for him to put forth the effort to smooth things over. ]
I'll speak to her tonight. Sooner is better than later.
[ He reaches down, plucking up the ring. ]
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Thanks, Zev.
[ He figures the fact that he owes him goes without saying. He'll change a diaper or something. ]
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[ He spoils Alistair, truly. And yet he cannot quite find it in himself to help it- spoiling one's family is what one does-
Along with mock them regularly. It feels like repayment enough for his more mean spirited barbs. ]
Give it time. You will both feel less horrible later.
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[ 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. ]
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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.
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Not much coin, I hope?
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[ Never forget that, Alistair. ]
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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.
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[ He ruffles Alistair's hair affectionately. ]
You and she are, after all, worth it. And I would split the profits with you both accordingly.