"When we return to Skyhold I shall prepare my best approximation of one for you if you so desire. It is difficult to find fish that is not salted within an inch of it's life, but it can be done if one knows who to bribe." Most of his bribery went to those that were in charge of cheeses and wine, as well as those that had dogs. Buying a little extra time for Alistair's joy, while it may seem frivolous- felt right. Even if he could not quite place why that was. Perhaps he became soft in his age or sentiment finally got the better of him. Ah, no.
Such thoughts were not meant to be dwelled upon while in the company of a fine Lady. Especially one that professes an enjoyment of weaving.
"Against the cold- for it is truly biting in this place. I am not meant for the cold and damp- and I am meant all the less for the snowy peaks of the Frostbacks. But that is where I am needed, and as such that is where I shall remain." For better or for worse. Though- that was a fine question. One he had to consider as he twisted this part of the braid around a pin to hold it in place as he started on the next segment. "In general? Cerulean. The deep, pure blue of the ocean at the coast- or the sky above the sea. It is all so grey here, or brown in the mire. Green- not the sickly moss color that abounds here but the rich, vibrant color of the gardens or bottled glass. On myself?"
He crackled a laugh, working along her scalp with delicate twists of his fingers. "I have been told that crimson as deep as blood looks best on me, and I have not yet found any tailor in Ferelden that can quite capture it."
no subject
Such thoughts were not meant to be dwelled upon while in the company of a fine Lady. Especially one that professes an enjoyment of weaving.
"Against the cold- for it is truly biting in this place. I am not meant for the cold and damp- and I am meant all the less for the snowy peaks of the Frostbacks. But that is where I am needed, and as such that is where I shall remain." For better or for worse. Though- that was a fine question. One he had to consider as he twisted this part of the braid around a pin to hold it in place as he started on the next segment. "In general? Cerulean. The deep, pure blue of the ocean at the coast- or the sky above the sea. It is all so grey here, or brown in the mire. Green- not the sickly moss color that abounds here but the rich, vibrant color of the gardens or bottled glass. On myself?"
He crackled a laugh, working along her scalp with delicate twists of his fingers. "I have been told that crimson as deep as blood looks best on me, and I have not yet found any tailor in Ferelden that can quite capture it."