Survive

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19 weeks old...

"This little piggy went to market," Alistair wiggled back and forth Myra's big toe that he couldn't keep inside her socks no matter how hard he tried. She sat upon her mother's new desk, her hands buried in his hair while he'd first attempted to get her to put back on the socks she kicked off. Then, he abandoned that foolish quest and took to playing instead.

"And this little piggy...uh," those big green eyes stared in wonder at him, waiting with bated breath for what her second toe did next, "also went to market. Seems there was a good sale that day because the third little piggy had to...buy himself a new plow. The only one was broken on a rock that the fourth little piggy left in farmer piggy's field. Rather cruel of four but it was known for being an inconsiderate piggy."

His babble faded at the baby clapping her hands and giggling like it was the most well crafted joke in all of thedas. Watching her laugh was like climbing into a fancy orlesian spa for a week, it cleansed his soul in ways he didn't ever think possible. Alistair moved on to the fifth piggy, who was about to try and scam number three, when Lunet dropped a pile of folders onto the desk.

"Ah kid, don't fall for his nonsense," she chuckled, then buffed up Wheater's hair. His little girl stuffed her fingers in her mouth to gum on them, but at the touch turned to smile wide and giggle at Mummy's friend. "It'll rot yer brain and then you'll be left with nothing but goo dripping out of your nose."

"Hey," Alistair grumped, then he shrugged, "actually, that's probably a fair point."

Lunet eyed him up and sighed, "Course it is, I gave it." She was wearing quite a bit of armor, a lot of it looked like it was pilfered from old sets rusting in the backs of shops. In fact, nearly all of the crew were. Alistair could almost swear he spotted upon one of the dwarves a single gauntlet from the Legion of the Dead that Lanny yanked from the deep roads. One of many things they sold off to pay for their little army what felt five decades ago.

Having said her peace, Lunet flopped down onto the stack of crates behind the desk she had to share with the quieter dwarf twin. Whenever she'd reach over into his workspace, or prop her feet up, he'd scrunch back and apologize for getting in the way. If it'd been the loud one, there'd probably be new blood all over the walls by now.

Jorel glanced over at the father trying to wipe the drool off his daughter's chin. For a brief beat their eyes met, but the dwarf quickly looked away. No doubt out of a fear that he'd fall madly in love with the loopy man and then there'd have to be a duel of honor for his hand with the boss. Or, he was terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing with the King around. The whole office was on pins and needles courtesy of the man that was kinda in charge of the country sitting in the back playing with his baby.

They'd never really connected much before, Reiss keeping her two lives separate. The only one who'd even talk to him was... "Hey, Lunet," Alistair called to her. The elf dramatically dropped her quill and sighed with her head tipped to the sky before turning to him.

"What?"

"How come you're always giving me shit?"

She rolled her tongue back and forth before spitting out, "Wouldn't get none if you didn't start it."

"Fair enough, but I mean, seems like everyone here's on their tenderest hooks to avoid the wrath of the crown. But you...you never blanch for even a minute."

More than a few heads around the office suddenly stopped working and swung over to listen while trying to make it look like they weren't. Lunet ran her tongue over her teeth then sighed, "Ain't got no reason to stop giving you what you deserve."

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