[ There's a pained, disgusted noise when Morrigan's mentioned, then a yelp when his hair is seized--not a pained one, only a cursory protest--and a brief struggle with the baby and his little fists that Alistair surrenders quickly. Fine. Fine. He'll lie here with Lucci on his face like a koala on a tree, or whatever Thedas may have that's equivalent.
So it's muffled, obviously, when he talks again. ]
I think Anders would cry.
[ How he went from fancying her to fancying Nathaniel is baffling. Maybe Nathaniel is the real blood mage. ]
And Shale and I would be very happy together. I'm clearly their favorite. Always have been.
[ Freed of the hair pulling, but not the child. Lucci crawls back to sit up on Alistair's chest, fiddling with the laces of his shirt. Safe enough. ]
Well if all you need is someone of your own we might, perhaps, pick through your nearest associates. Velanna? She would be mean enough to you for you to enjoy it but not so much you would cry. Pel? Might get bored with you after a short while, mm. Beleth?
[ He pauses, snorts, and crackles a high laugh. ]
Ah- that would be foolishness, would it not? What of Sabine- I know you enjoy her being cruel to you.
[ The overall effect of that list is a laugh and a blush and-- ] She's not that cruel.
[ --and, then, a moment of frowning contemplation, thinking back to months ago and the comte or baron or whatever he considered punching in the face. ]
I don't have an elf thing, do I? I'd know if I had an elf thing. People know when they have things. Right?
I would let Seeker Pentaghast kill me. Or not-quite-kill me, and give you what was left. [ He flashes a grin, pleased enough to be petted. ] I really am fine. I wasn't--
[ A pause to keep Lucci from yanking his laces clear out. ]
I'm only jealous. It's like being the last one to start shaving. [ Or is that a bad simile to provide to an elf? ] It's not about wanting stubble.
[ The first line earns an elbow in the leg--whichever part is reachable--and the second a huff of a laugh. ]
Almost. Weird.
[ There may be a few things wrong with taking his time, if he only has 0-15 years left, but that's neither here nor there, because he really isn't yearning. It's only that they were all lonely oddballs together, for a while, and he is increasingly at risk of being a lonely oddball individually. Again.
But that's horrifically selfish, so it's probably for the best that it isn't entirely clear and he can now nod and pretend that, yes, he mostly just wants to get laid. ]
You're not behind that anonymous advice over the crystals, are you?
Who would have thought, mm? I was coming to you for assistance with sentiment only how many months ago?
[ Quite awhile, and yet? Not long enough. Time seems to go by so quickly it is...distressing. ]
As though you knew the answers. We have both been stumbling in the dark here for some time, mm? And no. Of course not. I wouldn't hide behind a mask of anonymity.
[ Before Lucci can get bored with his shirt, Alistair pulls his amulet out of it and lets him--stick it in his mouth. It's fine. He can't choke on it if it's attached to a chain.
After a moment he says, super casually, ] Merrill can remove the taint from things.
Eluvians. [ With blood magic—which he doesn't particularly mind, but it doesn't seem like a good thing to say in front of a child. Even a preverbal one. ] She thinks she could have saved Hercules. We'll see. [ He tilts his head to look Zevran in the eyes, smiling a little. ] As our mascot, you've a right to know what we're up to.
It is not a thing easily done. Your mother managed, somehow. [ But- Maker only knows. She certainly doesn't understand it.
Leave it at this. At speculation, at questions. Be selfish. But oh, his son's eyes and oh, the future is now something he must consider beyond his own life.
how terrible a thing- the words pain him as he speaks them and it sounds it. Like a rasp of blades against bone. ] If you are cured of the taint, all of you- who would stop the next blight?
But the smile drops off his face at Zevran's tone—at his response on the whole, far from enthusiastic. Alistair's skeptical himself, but that's him. ]
We would. [ He looks back at Lucci and tugs the chain on his amulet to keep him interested in it. Like a kitten. ] I mean, not us, specifically. It will probably be a few ages before it happens again. But I don't think anyone would propose we stop having Grey Wardens, just—
[ An alternate retirement option. ]
I don't know that I would, if I could. I don't know how to do anything else. But it's not only us, though. If there's a way to stop the corruption in us, there's a probably an even simpler way to stop the Blight sickness in everyone else.
You should. [ The selfless thought to the future has come and gone- he is himself once more. Zevran the assassin, the rogue, the friend. The elf combing his fingers through his brother's hair and not counting each day the nightmares do not come as a quiet victory. ] I would have you help me raise Lucci. He is taken with you.
[ Things that go unsaid- things that do not need saying. ]
Be my bodyguard, my assistant. You know your numbers, yes? Join the Kestrels- not everything we do is assassinations; most of it as of late has been escort work. Guard this caravan or some something to that effect-
You do not need to be this thing until it kills you.
Everyone is something until it kills them, [ he says, very sage—nonsense.
There are too many variables right now for him to genuinely debate anything. There may or may not ever be a way out. The lyrium may or may not take his mind if the Old Gods don't beat it. He may be happy disappearing into the right balance of obscurity and adventure, or the weight of and then the son of Maric the Savior and the leader of the mage rebellion became a bodyguard till the end of his days might crush him. Or the world might end before any of it becomes a problem at all.
And, speaking of the apocalypse, and signs thereof, he still isn't over Zevran's first instinct not being excitement. He puts a finger on Lucci's nose to make him go briefly cross eyed—he's taken right back—and then looks at Zevran again. ] Are you all right?
[ He tugs Alistair's hair gently to chide him. Smart ass. Why does he care for this impossible human again? The light brush of his fingers against Lucci's nose is reminder enough. Gentle in his clumsiness, honor in his pragmatism. Large and careful and terrible in turns but- His.
The first friend he chose right back.
Family, brother. Zevran does not bother painting on a smile or hiding the weary weight to his shoulders, the shadow in his eye. ]
I find myself thinking of the future often, now. Of legacy. Of how it damns or blesses those based upon the smallest of details. Of how the weight of your father's life and death has shaped yours; how Morrigan's mother crafted her into something she might not have ever wished. He was to be a prince, our Luciano. Simply because he is no longer in Antiva does not make this less so- and it would be a thing for the tales would it not? Years later a dashing rogue comes to claim his rightful place. Builds his own legacy.
We need you. If there is a cure? I would have you attempt it. But- if you would choose to remain a Grey Warden...I wound understand. I would hate it and hate you for a time for it is foolishness of the highest order to seek your death in those terrible caves and Lucci would be told bedtime stories of how his favorite uncle was an idiot of the highest caliber for ignoring the opportunity to live-
But. I would understand. What you do is important. It only now occurs to me that I might leave behind a line that would endure until the next Blight.
[ That's a very interesting speech that Alistair did, in fact, listen to and is, in fact, thinking about. But the thinking is set momentarily aside at that last word, because he needs to light up and grin as he, too, realizes that for the first time-- ]
Nnooo, [ Alistair says--to the eyebrow threats, not to the slapping, which he endures without wincing. He would wince if it were Zevran. Make a production out of being in pain. But he is, as is known, tougher than he acts. He makes an entirely different sort of face at Lucci and prods him in his chubby little belly.
But then he sits up, holding Lucci along the way so no one falls and cries, and gives Zevran a more serious smile. The proud-eyed, pleased kind. ]
If he does go back to Antiva, maybe it will be a kinder place because of you.
[ Never mind the Wardens and a Blight that may or may not happen in another four hundred years. ]
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Date: 2016-09-10 04:27 am (UTC)So it's muffled, obviously, when he talks again. ]
I think Anders would cry.
[ How he went from fancying her to fancying Nathaniel is baffling. Maybe Nathaniel is the real blood mage. ]
And Shale and I would be very happy together. I'm clearly their favorite. Always have been.
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Date: 2016-09-10 05:38 am (UTC)Ah, his child. ]
Anders is pretty when he cries. Nathaniel would be compelled to kiss him better.
[ And it would end well for all. ]
Would you truly enjoy the cold, stone embrace of our stocky friend? They are a formidable person indeed. Quite capable.
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Date: 2016-09-10 06:20 am (UTC)I could ride on their shoulders. I've always wanted to ride on someone's shoulders.
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Date: 2016-09-10 10:36 pm (UTC)[ He finishes his latest notation of funds and moves to sit next to Alistair, gently extracting Lucci's hands from his hair. ]
It is not like you to sulk-
Actually? It is. Why am I surprised.
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Date: 2016-09-10 11:38 pm (UTC)[ But he's freed of the hair-pulling. That's good. Enough that he smiles at Zev instead of looking too offended. ]
I'm not sulking. I'm very happy for them. And you. And Oghren. Just don't forget about me while you all triple-date.
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Date: 2016-09-11 12:32 am (UTC)Well if all you need is someone of your own we might, perhaps, pick through your nearest associates. Velanna? She would be mean enough to you for you to enjoy it but not so much you would cry. Pel? Might get bored with you after a short while, mm. Beleth?
[ He pauses, snorts, and crackles a high laugh. ]
Ah- that would be foolishness, would it not? What of Sabine- I know you enjoy her being cruel to you.
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Date: 2016-09-11 01:32 am (UTC)[ --and, then, a moment of frowning contemplation, thinking back to months ago and the comte or baron or whatever he considered punching in the face. ]
I don't have an elf thing, do I? I'd know if I had an elf thing. People know when they have things. Right?
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Date: 2016-09-11 01:46 am (UTC)[ Zevran takes the time they have to start combing out Alistair's hair, frowning at the short strands. ]
What human women keep you company, mm? Or perhaps we should find you a nice Vashoth.
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Date: 2016-09-11 01:55 am (UTC)[ A pause to keep Lucci from yanking his laces clear out. ]
I'm only jealous. It's like being the last one to start shaving. [ Or is that a bad simile to provide to an elf? ] It's not about wanting stubble.
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Date: 2016-09-11 02:30 am (UTC)[ Teasing, gently, as combing becomes petting in earnest. ]
There is nothing wrong with taking your time. [ A beat. ] I almost sound as though I know what I am talking about, ah?
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Date: 2016-09-11 03:12 am (UTC)Almost. Weird.
[ There may be a few things wrong with taking his time, if he only has 0-15 years left, but that's neither here nor there, because he really isn't yearning. It's only that they were all lonely oddballs together, for a while, and he is increasingly at risk of being a lonely oddball individually. Again.
But that's horrifically selfish, so it's probably for the best that it isn't entirely clear and he can now nod and pretend that, yes, he mostly just wants to get laid. ]
You're not behind that anonymous advice over the crystals, are you?
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Date: 2016-09-11 04:36 am (UTC)[ Quite awhile, and yet? Not long enough. Time seems to go by so quickly it is...distressing. ]
As though you knew the answers. We have both been stumbling in the dark here for some time, mm? And no. Of course not. I wouldn't hide behind a mask of anonymity.
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Date: 2016-09-11 08:17 am (UTC)[ Before Lucci can get bored with his shirt, Alistair pulls his amulet out of it and lets him--stick it in his mouth. It's fine. He can't choke on it if it's attached to a chain.
After a moment he says, super casually, ] Merrill can remove the taint from things.
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Date: 2016-09-11 08:40 am (UTC)...such as?
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Date: 2016-09-11 08:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-09-11 08:59 am (UTC)Leave it at this. At speculation, at questions. Be selfish. But oh, his son's eyes and oh, the future is now something he must consider beyond his own life.
how terrible a thing- the words pain him as he speaks them and it sounds it. Like a rasp of blades against bone. ] If you are cured of the taint, all of you- who would stop the next blight?
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Date: 2016-09-11 09:27 am (UTC)But the smile drops off his face at Zevran's tone—at his response on the whole, far from enthusiastic. Alistair's skeptical himself, but that's him. ]
We would. [ He looks back at Lucci and tugs the chain on his amulet to keep him interested in it. Like a kitten. ] I mean, not us, specifically. It will probably be a few ages before it happens again. But I don't think anyone would propose we stop having Grey Wardens, just—
[ An alternate retirement option. ]
I don't know that I would, if I could. I don't know how to do anything else. But it's not only us, though. If there's a way to stop the corruption in us, there's a probably an even simpler way to stop the Blight sickness in everyone else.
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Date: 2016-09-11 09:40 am (UTC)[ Things that go unsaid- things that do not need saying. ]
Be my bodyguard, my assistant. You know your numbers, yes? Join the Kestrels- not everything we do is assassinations; most of it as of late has been escort work. Guard this caravan or some something to that effect-
You do not need to be this thing until it kills you.
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Date: 2016-09-11 04:20 pm (UTC)There are too many variables right now for him to genuinely debate anything. There may or may not ever be a way out. The lyrium may or may not take his mind if the Old Gods don't beat it. He may be happy disappearing into the right balance of obscurity and adventure, or the weight of and then the son of Maric the Savior and the leader of the mage rebellion became a bodyguard till the end of his days might crush him. Or the world might end before any of it becomes a problem at all.
And, speaking of the apocalypse, and signs thereof, he still isn't over Zevran's first instinct not being excitement. He puts a finger on Lucci's nose to make him go briefly cross eyed—he's taken right back—and then looks at Zevran again. ] Are you all right?
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Date: 2016-09-11 08:04 pm (UTC)The first friend he chose right back.
Family, brother. Zevran does not bother painting on a smile or hiding the weary weight to his shoulders, the shadow in his eye. ]
I find myself thinking of the future often, now. Of legacy. Of how it damns or blesses those based upon the smallest of details. Of how the weight of your father's life and death has shaped yours; how Morrigan's mother crafted her into something she might not have ever wished. He was to be a prince, our Luciano. Simply because he is no longer in Antiva does not make this less so- and it would be a thing for the tales would it not? Years later a dashing rogue comes to claim his rightful place. Builds his own legacy.
We need you. If there is a cure? I would have you attempt it. But- if you would choose to remain a Grey Warden...I wound understand. I would hate it and hate you for a time for it is foolishness of the highest order to seek your death in those terrible caves and Lucci would be told bedtime stories of how his favorite uncle was an idiot of the highest caliber for ignoring the opportunity to live-
But. I would understand. What you do is important. It only now occurs to me that I might leave behind a line that would endure until the next Blight.
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Date: 2016-09-11 11:20 pm (UTC)Grandpappy Zevran.
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Date: 2016-09-11 11:53 pm (UTC)[ And yet? Not at all surprised, though his scowl is more for show. ]
Call me 'grandpappy' again and I will shave your eyebrows in your sleep.
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Date: 2016-09-12 02:28 am (UTC)No, I need them. [ They're his secondary form of communication, coming only after his mouth. ]
Take my hair.
Grandpappy.
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Date: 2016-09-13 12:06 am (UTC)[ He tugs at Alistair's wrist- Lucci leaning up to slap Alistair's cheeks since that's what they're doing.
Right? right. ]
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Date: 2016-09-13 12:34 am (UTC)But then he sits up, holding Lucci along the way so no one falls and cries, and gives Zevran a more serious smile. The proud-eyed, pleased kind. ]
If he does go back to Antiva, maybe it will be a kinder place because of you.
[ Never mind the Wardens and a Blight that may or may not happen in another four hundred years. ]
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