"And yet you- no...wait. I have done that as well. Nevermind." He waved a hand vaguely, settling back to sip his wine and grimace a the bruise from Alistair's kicking, offering him a faintly wounded expression.

Here he was, trying to help. He was being helpful, why would Alistair hurt him? It was terribly sad, the face he made, all wide eyes and dowturned ears-

At least until Fiona began to speak of Alistair as an infant. That.

That warranted investigation.

"Get enough pints of ale in him and he tips over easily- so I would not say he has quite grown out of that." Attempting to imagine a tiny, chubby Alistair was difficult to say the least, but one that rolled over? He snorted into his wine, hard pressed to not.