[ Bastard Prince of Fereldan and Commander of the few sane Wardens left- and he is sleeping on hay. This will not stand. Zevran looses an intensely disappointed sigh. ]
If you promise not to lick anything or drink anything you find- the rather warm room with a somewhat proper bed is empty at the moment. Someone may as well be using it.
Promise not to lick--you're asking too much, Zevran. You know me better than that. [ Honestly. ] Anyway, I like it here. There are horses and hounds snuffling around all the time. It's a Fereldan lullaby.
[ If you're the kind of Fereldan who didn't have a mother and slept in a stable as a child. ]
It is exposed. If someone wanted you dead badly enough they could swing right in and cut your throat- do you have any idea how many sleeping fools I've killed in stables? I've lost count. [ Don't go dying while he's off being heroic, now. ] The room I have has stone walls and a door with a lock and while there may be no horses or hounds there is a coal brazier to keep you warm.
The dogs wouldn't let anyone kill me. Would you? No, you wouldn't. [ There is presumably a dog nearby. Presumably he isn't talking to empty air. We can hope.
Anyway, he sighs the sigh of a man on the verge of listening to reason. But not quite there. ]
[ He will milk the thing, if dogs are at stake. Or he would he he could. He can hear himself being a bad liar. Again. ]
No. I need them to wake me up. They get worried when I start tossing and shove their noses in my face. Because they're good dogs-- [ Again, dog nearby, probably. ] --aren't they? And so smart.
If you do not need them to sleep, they cannot come. YOU might be so smart and well trained as to not go sniffing about an Assassin's tools- but they may become curious and then eat something that would kill them and that would make you terribly sad and defeat the entire purpose of having you there in the first place. So. No dogs.
I have an actual quilt in there, Alistair. It is quite warm.
Of course it is locked, who is it you think you are speaking to, ah? But do not worry, you have a key in your pack. That little pouch you keep pinches of salt in when even you cannot stand Fereldan stew.
I knew you would likely remain in Skyhold and wished to be certain I could offer you somewhere less likely to erupt in burning cooks and frigid enchanters- or attacks by Northern mages with modesty blankets.
[ Let him take care of you, bro. ]
Use the key and duck when you enter- there is a wire strung across the doorframe and while I'm sure it won't kill you- the powder will dye your skin and itch for weeks.
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[ Bastard Prince of Fereldan and Commander of the few sane Wardens left- and he is sleeping on hay. This will not stand. Zevran looses an intensely disappointed sigh. ]
If you promise not to lick anything or drink anything you find- the rather warm room with a somewhat proper bed is empty at the moment. Someone may as well be using it.
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[ If you're the kind of Fereldan who didn't have a mother and slept in a stable as a child. ]
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Anyway, he sighs the sigh of a man on the verge of listening to reason. But not quite there. ]
Could I bring the dogs?
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Do you need the dogs to sleep?
[ If it weren't for that thing they aren't discussing, it'd be an automatic no. But. ]
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[ He will milk the thing, if dogs are at stake. Or he would he he could. He can hear himself being a bad liar. Again. ]
No. I need them to wake me up. They get worried when I start tossing and shove their noses in my face. Because they're good dogs-- [ Again, dog nearby, probably. ] --aren't they? And so smart.
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I have an actual quilt in there, Alistair. It is quite warm.
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[ Let him take care of you, bro. ]
Use the key and duck when you enter- there is a wire strung across the doorframe and while I'm sure it won't kill you- the powder will dye your skin and itch for weeks.
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All right.
[ He sounds a little subdued, not exasperated, so that's one down for the touched column. ]
Duck how low? Low for me or low for you?
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