Alistair, when so ordered, does not move. He's busy looking past Adelaide at Scipio first—Scipio, who avoids his eyes and looks miserable enough that Alistair more or less forgives him on the spot, though he won't admit it—and then at Dorian, frozen in the corridor, before he cocks one eyebrow at her in a way that communicates, clearly, Nah. Felix may be her patient, but he's their Brother.
But his attempt to make a principled (spiteful) stand out of it is abruptly ruined by a small elven missile. He takes a step back with her out of surprise more than necessity, looking first startled and then mildly uncomfortable.
"It was Sabriel's idea," he says, now that it won't get her thrown off any fucking ramparts; Sabriel's idea, mostly Sabriel and Kaidan's effort. And the darkspawn blood? One of Dorian's kills. He'll never be allowed to know, but Alistair likes the thought of it. "She wanted to do it a long time ago."
And they almost waited too late, but only almost. Felix is asking for Dorian, Scipio has a handle on the food, but it's Sabriel's confirmation that it's safe that finally prompts him to move aside.
no subject
But his attempt to make a principled (spiteful) stand out of it is abruptly ruined by a small elven missile. He takes a step back with her out of surprise more than necessity, looking first startled and then mildly uncomfortable.
"It was Sabriel's idea," he says, now that it won't get her thrown off any fucking ramparts; Sabriel's idea, mostly Sabriel and Kaidan's effort. And the darkspawn blood? One of Dorian's kills. He'll never be allowed to know, but Alistair likes the thought of it. "She wanted to do it a long time ago."
And they almost waited too late, but only almost. Felix is asking for Dorian, Scipio has a handle on the food, but it's Sabriel's confirmation that it's safe that finally prompts him to move aside.