Alistair pliantly lets his arms be nudged and his lap sat on with a smile that's a little bit you're ridiculous but mostly just fond, and just as easily rearranges when Zevran after Zevran has settled to stretch the blanket around him as well.

"Not your toes," he says. "Not on my watch."

After a moment of thought, he turns his head down to press his mouth to the top of Zevran's head and blow a large noisy lungful of hot air into his hair. He's helping.