And it's Zevran's job to comfort him. Clearly. In addition to carrying the hopes of all of Thedas in his freaky glowing hand. The moment when Alistair realizes he's being an unfair bastard is visible, eyes unnarrowing and gaze shifting vaguely toward his shoulder, where Alistair still has a firm grip on him.
Something shakes. It takes him a second to realize it's Zevran and not his own hands.
He lets go. Fetches the blanket. Drops it over Zevran, head and all, like an unfitted cloak.
"If you do it again, I'm going to sing," he threatens.
no subject
And it's Zevran's job to comfort him. Clearly. In addition to carrying the hopes of all of Thedas in his freaky glowing hand. The moment when Alistair realizes he's being an unfair bastard is visible, eyes unnarrowing and gaze shifting vaguely toward his shoulder, where Alistair still has a firm grip on him.
Something shakes. It takes him a second to realize it's Zevran and not his own hands.
He lets go. Fetches the blanket. Drops it over Zevran, head and all, like an unfitted cloak.
"If you do it again, I'm going to sing," he threatens.