Alistair doesn't hold the water skin out for the full minute. For half a minute, sure, convinced that if he's stubborn and adorable Zevran will give in any second now. But around the thirty second mark he caves and drinks from it himself, penitent but friendly expression darkening while he joins Zevran in staring off ahead—but not leaving. He isn't going anywhere.

"It's only a title," he says, defensive and then sullenly cheeky when he adds, with all apparent due respect, "Inquisitor."