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[ OPEN ] Se sapessero tutto su di te
WHO: Zevran, Luciano, and YOU
WHAT: Catch all for the month
WHEN: June/Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Prose or Brackets are fine, roll with what you like most. If you want a specific prompt hit me up on plurk @ here!
WHAT: Catch all for the month
WHEN: June/Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Prose or Brackets are fine, roll with what you like most. If you want a specific prompt hit me up on plurk @ here!
[ After the Baptism (Early Justinian) ]
Early in the evening, after some small ceremony in Skyhold's chapel, Zevran can be found surrounded by his Kestrels, sitting quietly in a corner of The Herald's rest as they played music and sang a great many traditional Antivan pieces. There is food and wine and dancing and Zevran partakes only a little. While he may look tired and a little overwhelmed, the night is a joyous one all the same. In his arms, on his lap, or sitting on the table with Zevran's steadying hand upon his back is a small elven child. All wide blue eyes and blonde curls, tanned skin that is marred only by the smudge of ashes in a circle on his forehead as is custom, dressed in a simple cotton shift Luciano Arainai claps and squeals in turn, gnawing on whatever is within reach or patting down Zevran's shirt with sticky hands. He is a child, they are sticky, it is a known fact. To the end of the night exhaustion catches hold for both, leaving the infant cranky and Zevran struggling to soothe him long enough to slip away to their rooms.
[ Garden ]
Afternoons find Zevran lounging in the garden- fresh air is both good for him and supposedly healthy for children- as long as he is able to keep Lucci from shoving things into his mouth that are not meant to be eaten. Which is everything. Which means it is less lounging and more tugging upon a leash and harness he has rigged to let his child roam but not too far- only a few feet from where he is sprawled and sketching upon a blanket. Most of his attention is actually on his son but it does the boy well to assume he has leave to explore. At least until he crawls back to demand food or attention or- whatever it is infants want. Zevran is still learning to interpret his various burbles and shrieks.
[ Courtyard ]
Zevran is, for the moment, trapped under the dead weight of his son- the slightest shifting earns a familiar screwing up of Lucci's face that has him resigned to simply leaning back against the tree where he'd stopped walking to shift his grip earlier and wait out the nap. He dare not doze himself- too tense against the open area, how vulnerable they are, how exposed. Tensing too much causes the same small sounds of upset and thus he is forced to sit, mind that he does not lock up, and wait for Lucci to fall deep enough asleep that he might carry him back to their room or rouse himself enough to make the trip worthwhile.
[ Hot Springs ]
"Your voice does carry, you know." Idle and conversational, Zevran has found a shallower edge of the hot springs when he'd truly rather a deep soak- but elven infants do not swim well and as such he must sit over here. With a shrieking, splashing child rigged safely in some manner of wicker basket he'd lowered into the water to keep Lucci from falling over backward and drowning. And to keep these little floating toys (maker only knows who gave them to him, he cannot recall) from floating away. "Yes, yes, splashing the water is marvelous fun- please hold still."
Not that Lucci is one to listen, wriggling under Zevran's hands as he tries to clean...something...sticky from his son's hair. "What is this, honey? How did you get honey in your hair? When were you near honey?"
[ Training Grounds ]
There are rare days when Lucci is not quite so prone to shrieking and crawling, not quite so intent on escape and Zevran can wrap him in a sling of sorts, tucked up against his chest, and actually train his Kestrels. It is an adjustment, every so often he must away to change the child's soiled underclothes or to feed him and the extra weight is odd and leaves him sore at the end of a few hours- but with one hand on Lucci's back to support him, the other gesturing as he speaks in rapid fire Antivan, directing his Kestrels through their maneuvers.
Early in the evening, after some small ceremony in Skyhold's chapel, Zevran can be found surrounded by his Kestrels, sitting quietly in a corner of The Herald's rest as they played music and sang a great many traditional Antivan pieces. There is food and wine and dancing and Zevran partakes only a little. While he may look tired and a little overwhelmed, the night is a joyous one all the same. In his arms, on his lap, or sitting on the table with Zevran's steadying hand upon his back is a small elven child. All wide blue eyes and blonde curls, tanned skin that is marred only by the smudge of ashes in a circle on his forehead as is custom, dressed in a simple cotton shift Luciano Arainai claps and squeals in turn, gnawing on whatever is within reach or patting down Zevran's shirt with sticky hands. He is a child, they are sticky, it is a known fact. To the end of the night exhaustion catches hold for both, leaving the infant cranky and Zevran struggling to soothe him long enough to slip away to their rooms.
[ Garden ]
Afternoons find Zevran lounging in the garden- fresh air is both good for him and supposedly healthy for children- as long as he is able to keep Lucci from shoving things into his mouth that are not meant to be eaten. Which is everything. Which means it is less lounging and more tugging upon a leash and harness he has rigged to let his child roam but not too far- only a few feet from where he is sprawled and sketching upon a blanket. Most of his attention is actually on his son but it does the boy well to assume he has leave to explore. At least until he crawls back to demand food or attention or- whatever it is infants want. Zevran is still learning to interpret his various burbles and shrieks.
[ Courtyard ]
Zevran is, for the moment, trapped under the dead weight of his son- the slightest shifting earns a familiar screwing up of Lucci's face that has him resigned to simply leaning back against the tree where he'd stopped walking to shift his grip earlier and wait out the nap. He dare not doze himself- too tense against the open area, how vulnerable they are, how exposed. Tensing too much causes the same small sounds of upset and thus he is forced to sit, mind that he does not lock up, and wait for Lucci to fall deep enough asleep that he might carry him back to their room or rouse himself enough to make the trip worthwhile.
[ Hot Springs ]
"Your voice does carry, you know." Idle and conversational, Zevran has found a shallower edge of the hot springs when he'd truly rather a deep soak- but elven infants do not swim well and as such he must sit over here. With a shrieking, splashing child rigged safely in some manner of wicker basket he'd lowered into the water to keep Lucci from falling over backward and drowning. And to keep these little floating toys (maker only knows who gave them to him, he cannot recall) from floating away. "Yes, yes, splashing the water is marvelous fun- please hold still."
Not that Lucci is one to listen, wriggling under Zevran's hands as he tries to clean...something...sticky from his son's hair. "What is this, honey? How did you get honey in your hair? When were you near honey?"
[ Training Grounds ]
There are rare days when Lucci is not quite so prone to shrieking and crawling, not quite so intent on escape and Zevran can wrap him in a sling of sorts, tucked up against his chest, and actually train his Kestrels. It is an adjustment, every so often he must away to change the child's soiled underclothes or to feed him and the extra weight is odd and leaves him sore at the end of a few hours- but with one hand on Lucci's back to support him, the other gesturing as he speaks in rapid fire Antivan, directing his Kestrels through their maneuvers.
no subject
"His mother left him with me." It was honest enough without tipping the whole of his hand. "I am minding him for the time being. He does not seem too adverse to my company."
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"He's pretty cute," Kirk complimented the child, smiling at him and waggling his fingers, smart enough not to come to close - especially with the kittens. They were small, but had their claws, and he didn't want the child accidentally hurt. "He have a have name? This one's Leonard," he pointed at the mustached kitten and then the other. "And that's Nikita, for all the good it'll do."
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When he was older it might be safe to let him play- but they were not Doghren, accustomed to his grabbing hands and gums. "Luciano."
Bringer of light or some such, his mother did have a sense of humor.
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"Luciano. Does it mean someth-ING!" his voice rose sharply at the end, looking down at his leg where a kitten was currently attempting to scale him. Said kitten simply mewed and continued its struggle upwards. "Nikita, no, that hurts!" Kirk grumbled, reaching down to try and pry her off, but the kitten stubbornly remained attached to the cloth, mewing in protest whilst Leonard continued his hunt, unconcerned with his sister's or Kirk's distress.
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Of course such discussion was curtailed by kittens climbing and Zevran had to crackle a laugh, tugging Lucci into his lap so he could better see the climbing kittens. "Reasons I am grateful he does not have claws himself, otherwise he would be getting ideas."
Ideas he was getting anyway, tugging on Zevran's shirt to pull himself upright.
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"At least he cannot hide in strange and seemingly far to small spaces and pop out to spook you at unpleasant hours?" he offered as he finally got the kitten free with a pop of cloth, putting her up on his shoulder rather than down so she would not try his leg again. Leonard was still content with his hunt, thank whatever gods existed, pouncing away.
"Though I think you'll have more than enough problems when he finally learns to run properly," he chuckled.
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And it was not something someone simply discussed in the middle of so fine a day.
"Though I am usually hunting for him when he chooses to do so. It cuts down on the surprise later."
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He laughed softly. "Early practice for when he's a rebellious teen and running off?" he suggested.
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"He's a quick learner," he chuckled, letting out another hiss and wince combo as Leonard finally decided to take matters into his own paws and try and climb Kirk as well. This time he simply relented and picked the kitten off his trousers and snuggled into his chest and the crook of his arm. "I apologize now for any bad habits these two inspire."
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Climbing a tree? A nightmare waiting to happen.
"He would have figured it out sooner or later."
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"Well, looks like "sooner" is upon us," he laughed, grunting as he reached up to steady the kitten that was decided to try and scale his forehead. "Okay look, I know you know that's my face you're crawling on, Nikita..."
He managed to settle her back in his hair, sighing. "Tell your kid that if he ever comes across Anders to spit up on him for me, would you?"