Of all the..! He had been terribly engrossed with the sparkling pink, er, pink gauzy thing when that drunken dwarf had spilled a full tankard all over him. Wearing a dress was bad enough, but an ale-sodden one was definitely out of the question. Alistair jumped up and began to disentangle himself from the dress. How did women handle this – or was that why they all seemed to have maids to help them?
Suddenly, there was a hand at his elbow. "No, my friend, not out here – think of Elissa's reaction for you to be parading in your small clothes in front of half of the nobles in Denerim, eh? Come, let me take you to a private room and I will find you some pants, won't that be better?" Zevran smoothly suggested, already steering him away from his comfy seat at the front of the room.
Here he though that the Antivan didn't like him. Better man than he thought, obviously. Maybe he would find a position for him in the new reign. He held the dress, peeled to his waist, about himself and stumbled along, propelled by the grinning Zevran.
The dog looked about and whined. Something smelled funny. Besides the ale and the perfume.