It's a quiet sound that Zevran echos, distantly amused as he recalls many a time that same whining kept him from losing his mind in the deep roads. Fondness twists deep and he slips a hand (the glowing one) up to comb his fingers through Alistair's hair in a soothing pet.
It will work out, one way or the other.
When he lifts his head Zevran's hand does not follow, sliding to rest against the side of his face for half a heartbeat before he turns it out to wiggle his fingers at the scout. That had, for a moment, looked far too intimate.
"There will be rumors within the hour, I hope you know. But excelent excuse- I should use it more often. 'Herald you cannot have wine with breakfast' 'Yes I can, I'm Antivan.' 'Zevran you cannot lock the advisors out of the war room for a game of Wicked Grace' 'Yes I can, I'm Antivan.'" Far easier to joke and ignore the commentary about sleep. He does not need sleep.
no subject
It will work out, one way or the other.
When he lifts his head Zevran's hand does not follow, sliding to rest against the side of his face for half a heartbeat before he turns it out to wiggle his fingers at the scout. That had, for a moment, looked far too intimate.
"There will be rumors within the hour, I hope you know. But excelent excuse- I should use it more often. 'Herald you cannot have wine with breakfast' 'Yes I can, I'm Antivan.' 'Zevran you cannot lock the advisors out of the war room for a game of Wicked Grace' 'Yes I can, I'm Antivan.'" Far easier to joke and ignore the commentary about sleep. He does not need sleep.