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. ]
Or worse. The House of Crows falls and leaves a void behind. Antiva will have to rethink how it does things- or other guilds will fill the void. And then I will spend my days assassinating them instead.
[ But it is...a thought. A hopeful thought, one he considers while curling his fingers through Lucci's hair. Such bright eyes. Such affection. ]
I blame you, you know. Making me think noble thoughts.
Yes, it was all me, [ Alistair says. ] Zevran, I said, you should leave the Crows. You should follow us lost causes around Ferelden instead of making a break for it. You've handled Taliesin and you're free from your oath, but please, stick around to fight an Archdemon.
[ A pleased, nostalgic sigh for all of those conversations that definitely occurred, while he hooks his arm around Zevran's shoulders to squash him in a sideways hug, like they're gazing ahead together at something magnificent. ]
That is more or less what Jonas said. [ He snorts a soft laugh, leaning against Alistair easily. ] Though he capped it off with 'if you leave Alistair will make the saddest eyes and mope for weeks and you wouldn't even be here to make fun of him for it.'
[ Not the safest topic but- He wants to have these moments of fond remembrance back without Alistair being a sulky child. ]
[ Jonas sure didn't care about him making the saddest eyes and moping for weeks when he recruited Loghain, Alistair does not say, because this is pleasant and he does have some self-control. But he does knock his head over against Zevran's, in revenge, before loosening his squashing arm. ]
You're noble all on your own, Zev. [ He's going to insist. ] Maybe we gave you space to figure it out, but that's all. [ He turns his attention back to Lucci, gives him a little bounce in the crook of his other arm. ] You papa doesn't like to take credit for anything good.
[ He is a roguish lover and assassin, no noble is he. Noble rogues often were killed while being terribly romantic and noble and he? Suddenly has a great deal of interest in not dying quite so easily- or so soon.
Lucci meanwhile claps happily, well pleased by the attention. ] You offered me a space to sort out a great many things- and gave me a family before I understood what it was to have one.
[ A little smug. A little pleased. Quieted--his earlier whining, as
it was, having very little to do with wanting to take up with Shale or
anyone else and very much to do with not wanting everyone else to begin
having drinks on Fridays to discuss their Functional Adult
Relationships.
Not that he isn't still concerned they might. They
might.
But he probably won't get left behind if they do. They'll let him
come along and be the whatever-odd-numbered wheel if he wants to. That's
family. Probably. As far as Alistair understands it--since Jonas, bless
him, stuck dealing with Alistair's numb and hot-faced I thought family
was supposed to accept you no matter what, had managed an awkward
I don't know what to tell you instead of a life-altering
everyone is out for themselves.
This is a very Disney tag. Let me make it worse by saying that
Alistair ducks his head down to gobble against Lucci's neck to tickle him.
]
[ Sentiment is for other people, people without Alistair's to point out such things, without lives like his and loss like his. Without as much blood on his hands- and yet this sentiment has found him.
Somehow this is Alistair's fault, he's sure.
Somehow.
the only way to not burst out in helpless laughter at Alistair's antics with his son is a very deadpan, not at all concerned- ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-11 08:40 am (UTC)...such as?
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-11 11:20 pm (UTC)Grandpappy Zevran.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-09-13 12:47 am (UTC)[ But it is...a thought. A hopeful thought, one he considers while curling his fingers through Lucci's hair. Such bright eyes. Such affection. ]
I blame you, you know. Making me think noble thoughts.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-13 01:11 am (UTC)[ A pleased, nostalgic sigh for all of those conversations that definitely occurred, while he hooks his arm around Zevran's shoulders to squash him in a sideways hug, like they're gazing ahead together at something magnificent. ]
I am wonderful.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-13 01:18 am (UTC)[ Not the safest topic but- He wants to have these moments of fond remembrance back without Alistair being a sulky child. ]
Marvelous.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-13 01:40 am (UTC)You're noble all on your own, Zev. [ He's going to insist. ] Maybe we gave you space to figure it out, but that's all. [ He turns his attention back to Lucci, gives him a little bounce in the crook of his other arm. ] You papa doesn't like to take credit for anything good.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-14 11:33 am (UTC)[ He is a roguish lover and assassin, no noble is he. Noble rogues often were killed while being terribly romantic and noble and he? Suddenly has a great deal of interest in not dying quite so easily- or so soon.
Lucci meanwhile claps happily, well pleased by the attention. ] You offered me a space to sort out a great many things- and gave me a family before I understood what it was to have one.
no subject
Date: 2016-09-14 02:24 pm (UTC)Now you're being sentimental.
[ A little smug. A little pleased. Quieted--his earlier whining, as it was, having very little to do with wanting to take up with Shale or anyone else and very much to do with not wanting everyone else to begin having drinks on Fridays to discuss their Functional Adult Relationships.
Not that he isn't still concerned they might. They might.
But he probably won't get left behind if they do. They'll let him come along and be the whatever-odd-numbered wheel if he wants to. That's family. Probably. As far as Alistair understands it--since Jonas, bless him, stuck dealing with Alistair's numb and hot-faced I thought family was supposed to accept you no matter what, had managed an awkward I don't know what to tell you instead of a life-altering everyone is out for themselves.
This is a very Disney tag. Let me make it worse by saying that Alistair ducks his head down to gobble against Lucci's neck to tickle him. ]
no subject
Date: 2016-09-16 06:38 am (UTC)[ Sentiment is for other people, people without Alistair's to point out such things, without lives like his and loss like his. Without as much blood on his hands- and yet this sentiment has found him.
Somehow this is Alistair's fault, he's sure.
Somehow.
the only way to not burst out in helpless laughter at Alistair's antics with his son is a very deadpan, not at all concerned- ]
no, please, stop. Don't eat the baby. Stop.