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You know what to do.

[ While Nathaniel isn't looking, Alistair is nodding along anyway, a faint furrow between his eyebrows. Eamon -- maybe. It's been twelve years. Surely even he wouldn't try to maneuver around Anora for the sake of a sixty-four year old king who's been imprisoned for Maker knows how long and isn't going to be producing any new heirs.

He's thinking. Real thoughts and everything. So he looks a little startled by the movement when Nathaniel looks at him, and immediately cocks an eyebrow, like bringing up a shield. ]

You do want me to talk about my feelings, [ he says. He can't help it. It's better than thinking about how scraped-empty he feels nearly all the time, and how even you're no son of mine would fill the gap, the same way making the boys at the abbey hate him proved they knew he was there -- rejection would be fine, a bad end wouldn't be just nothing --

He doesn't want to dwell. Listening to himself talk is easier. ]

This is momentous. I'll have to write down the date. [ The eyebrow lowers, not quite all the way, and he adds, ] I'm going. If they don't like it they can try to beat me to him.

Edited Date: 2017-01-03 08:52 pm (UTC)

[There's a grimace when it looks like Alistair is done with taking this seriously--and then there's an answer. The grimace softens, and is joined by an intrigued brow. He finally gives a nod.]

Good man. Make him give you a reckoning.

[A beat.]

Special blood, yes? Is that why Ashton...?

[ Alistair isn't sure what to do with good man, when it's coming from Nathaniel. Does that make approval better or worse? He doesn't know. But, like a dog's tail set off by a kind-sounding word, his mouth twitches before he can stop it. He covers it with his hand, rubbing and then pulling contemplatively at his bottom lip, like he's thinking hard. ]

Mm, no. It was definitely because she fancied me.