Stepdad shirts when you're married to the mom are OUT. Stepdad shirts when you're married to the other dad are IN, but for some reason, Novhen does not seem to think the shirt's as funny as Zevran does 🤷
Zevran and Astala Tabris have adopted three Antivan kids; two of them are former Crow recruits. None of them have ever celebrated their Naming Day.
(Read below or here on AO3)
The day he had arrived at Vigil’s Keep with the three Antivan kids had been a cold and rainy day in the middle of Drakonis. Carlo had been asleep and wouldn’t let himself be woken up. Virel and Perinella had also been exhausted. Their flight from Antiva and from the Crows had taken a lot out of them, and they had gone straight to bed after they’d gotten some food. Zevran was happy to see them safe, happy to know them well-cared for, and sad to have to leave the next day. His safehouse back in Antiva seemed cold and empty when he re-entered it and none of the three children were there. Updates from the Vigil became the highlight of the week; apparently the keep’s humble appointments had been a source of disappointment especially for Perinella—and she was right, for Fereldan nobility had nothing against even the Antivan merchants—and the children treated their new surroundings with the utmost suspicion. Smart, Zevran had thought. But at the same time, he wished they would soon realize they were safe there. Safe like he had been. Astala told him about how the children, sticking together, the only Antivans in a large, unknown fortress, had explored the grounds bit by bit. They had grown bolder as the days passed. Zevran fondly remembered opening a letter from his Warden and discovering in it a rather rattled account of how the children had discovered the kitchens and stolen fifteen of her beloved plum-filled pastries.
Of course, there had been setbacks. Virel still hardly initiated conversations with strangers. Carlo had taken to breaking things to get hugs after having been comforted over accidentally spilling the contents of an inkwell. And Perinella had broken into Anders’ collection of manuals on blood magic more than once. Fortunately, Velanna had been able to prevent any demonic possession of the girl. For now. But Zevran couldn’t quite bring himself to fault any of them for their behavior. The streets of Antiva had not been kind to Carlo, and Virel and Perinella had been left to fend for themselves under the Crows after their own parents had sold them. Really, given the circumstances, they were doing very well.
Zevran only hoped that today would not be another setback or give Perinella the wrong ideas. It was her naming day, after all.
Zevran quietly observed how Perinella, paper in hand, Virel in tow, and a big stack of gifts still in their wrapping balancing in her arms slowly made her way up the narrow steps to the rookery. Maybe it had been a mistake to leave this gift as one of the last. Where would she set down the rest? The air around Perinella was shifting ever so slightly, which tended to happen when she let her otherwise meticulous control over her magic slip. This could be very good, or it could be very bad. Zevran suppressed the urge to shift anxiously in his space. It would be better if neither of them was made aware of his presence. Otherwise, Virel would start to scowl again. The boy still did not trust him, former Crows that he was.
If only he could get some kind of clue as to whether this had been a good idea.
-
The children had no actual naming day. Astala had discovered this over dinner one day when she had asked for it and had only received blank stares and confused looks in return. Zevran had jumped in to the rescue; the Crows, after all, were not ones to celebrate an individual’s continued survival, and neither were the streets of Antiva. Astala had turned to him, confused.
“So you don’t know when you were named either? I thought you told me your naming day was on the 7th of Bloomingtide!”
“And so it is! Technically,” Zevran had answered. “There were far too many children at the whorehouse to keep track of, so there was one day where all of us would celebrate our naming day. Everyone got their due without too much hassle.”
Astala made a face to herself that indicated just how unimpressed she was by this. Then she mercifully turned to the children.
“And you gotta have a naming day, because you have a name,” she said. “You don’t remember it at all?”
Perinella, normally the most forward, had said nothing and only glanced at her brother. Virel had silently poked his dinner. Carlo had looked around the table, and then had carefully set his spoon down.
“What is this?” he had signed.
“A naming day?” Once Carlo had confirmed this was what he was asking, Astala had sat back and contemplated the question. “A naming day is the day you were named, normally a year and a day after you are born. Every year on that day, there's a small celebration to conmemorate the fact that you're alive. You usually receive some gifts from friends and family-"
At that, Perinella had perked up.
"-and people wish you well for the coming year of your life," Astala had concluded. "I have a naming day, my cousins Soris and Shianni have one, even my Da has one. So, if you don't know yours: would you like one?"
Carlo had indeed wanted one. Tomorrow, had been his first idea. Once Astala had explained that it would make for a very poor and underprepared naming day indeed, he had settled on the 8th of Cloudreach, with the reasoning that Cloudreach sounded nice and 8 was his favorite number. Astala had called it good. Perinella had dithered to and fro, and glanced intermittently at Virel, who was still staring at his stew like it had personally offended him—and this even though Astala had managed to find a decent cook even by Antivan standards. Finally, Perinella had decided to take Astala up on the offer as well and had settled on the date of their arrival at Vigil's Keep. Zevran had a strong feeling that this choice was less of a celebration of their arrival in Antiva and more because the date was an easy option. Virel had only stoically shaken his head when asked.
-
One exact year after their arrival at Vigil's Keep, Zevran was hiding and observing the rookery into which Perinella and Virel had disappeared.
For a long while, there was nothing. Zevran was starting to get nervous.
It had been his idea to turn the giving of gifts into a treasure hunt of sorts. None of the- their three children liked the attention of crowds, and to assemble every well-wisher and gift-giver in one room to assault them seemed like the perfect way to make them hate the whole idea. But sneaking and exploring? They liked it. They were good at it. They did it often. And so Zevran had suggested everybody hide their gifts together with a clue to the next hiding spot. They would have liked to try it out on Carlo first, easily enthused and more easy to read than the older two; alas, Cloudreach came right after Drakonis. It should go over well enough with Perinella—she was an inquisitive sort—if she found all her gifts. And if the gifts were to her liking. And if she understood that they were, in fact, gifts, intended for her to keep with no strings attached. Ah, the Crows had a way of ruining everything good for oneself. But Velanna’s gift, which was the one hidden in the rookery, should really-
There was a flash of light, and a small squeak. Zevran jumped up, ready to run towards the rookery should his help be needed, but everything was quiet now. Should he barge in? Virel and Perinella did not trust him. But what if they needed help? Braska, he had to do something. Zevran whirled around, intent on taking the steps down to the corridor leading to the rookery two or three at a time, and promptly bumped into another small person.
“Surprised!” he signed once he recognized the boy. “Bravo.”
Carlo grinned widely. He had evidently snuck up on him on purpose.
“Is everything ready?” Zevran asked, now whispering.
Carlo nodded, long bangs flying all over his face. He still hadn’t allowed Astala to give him a haircut.
“Very good,” Zevran said and tousled Carlo’s hair further.
The boy giggled.
“Could we change our plan?” Zevran asked with a glance towards the rookery. “I would like to ask for a favor. You may say no.”
Carlo frowned, evidently not happy with the question. But he also tilted his head to the side in an unspoken question.
“Instead of waiting for Virel and Perinella to come down, could you go to them now?” Zevran elaborated. “There was a flash and a sound. I would like you to see if they are alright, if you could.”
Carlo pointed over at the rookery.
“Yes,” Zevran nodded. “They are in there.”
Carlo made the sign for danger.
“I do not think you will be in danger, no,” Zevran said immediately. And then he thought, why was he asking the kid to check on Virel and Perinella anyways?
Before he could develop that thought further, Carlo shook his head and made the sign of danger again, then signed Virel’s name, then Perinella’s.
“They…” Zevran hesitated. “No. No, I do not think they are in danger.”
Because what dangers could await them in the rookery of Vigil’s Keep, of all places? Perinella's magic had been a bit out of control already, and now that he thought of it, the squeal had sounded more excited than anything. Ah, nagale! He was making a fool of himself again.
“I- Look, maybe there is no need to go after all,” Zevran said. “So you-”
But Carlo was starting to look frustrated as he signed ‘danger’ again, then Virel’s name, then Perinella’s. Zevran frowned. What was the boy trying to tell him?
“I… do not think they will search for trouble either,” he tried.
Carlo shook his head again, big eyes pleading Zevran to understand.
“They… are a danger?” Zevran guessed.
Again, Carlo shook his head.
“I am very sorry,” Zevran said and suppressed a small sigh. “I do not understand.”
Carlo repeated his signs, now looking truly distressed.
“Carlo, mijo, please.” Zevran knelt so he was eye to eye with Carlo. “I do not understand, but I no longer think there is a need to check on Virel and Perinella. What if we stick to the original plan, hm? Would that be better?”
Carlo repeated his signs.
“Alright,” Zevran said. “What are you telling me? Are you saying something is happening?”
Carlo shook his head.
Zevran tried again. “Are you asking me a question?”
There, finally, Carlo nodded.
“Ah, very well,” Zevran said. “And you are not asking-”
The door to the rookery flew open. Perinella marched out, her stack of gifts grown by one and wobbling precariously. Virel followed. They seemed no worse for wear than when they entered. Carlo's head snapped around, wide eyes landing on them. He urgently tugged on Zevran’s sleeve, and this time Zevran understood without issue. They ran off, to the small dining room where the five of them took their meals, where Astala was already waiting.
-
They arrived out of breath, but Perinella was nowhere to be seen. Astala set aside her work immediately and heaved herself up with the help of her cane.
“What happened?”
“Nothing of note,” Zevran was quick to assure her. “Carlo and I missed out cue, that is all.”
Carlo pulled out three more packages from behind the cupboard and laid them on the table. Zevran recognized his gift for Perinella among them. Then he pulled on Astala’s sleeve and started signing, the same signs he had said to Zevran.
“Carlo has a question,” Zevran tried to help.
“A question?” Astala sat back down. “What are you asking? If Virel and Perinella are in danger?”
Carlo shook his head, then pointed at himself and gave a big shrug.
“You don’t know?” Astala said. “What don’t you know?”
Carlo signed ‘Virel’, ‘Perinella’, ‘danger’, and then pointed at himself.
“You? When Virel and Perinella are in danger?” Astala asked.
Carlo nodded emphatically and pointed at himself again.
“What you can do?” Astala said.
Carlo nodded so enthusiastically that his whole body folded at the waist under the motion, and Zevran wanted to clap his hand against his forehead. Of course.
“Well,” Astala answered very seriously, “I think the best thing you can do is get help. From me or Zevran, or from any other adult around. We don’t want you to get hurt, after all.”
Carlo nodded firmly.
“Are Virel and Perinella in danger now?” Astala asked.
Carlo shook his head, then shrugged, then looked at Zevran.
“There was a flash and a noise,” Zevran said. “I forgot it sometimes happens with Perinella and I... may have let my worry carry me away.”
“Oh. Alright. That reminds me,” Astala continued, addressing them both and clasping her hands together, “how did it go? Did she find everything? Did they see you?”
Carlo proudly shook his head, and Zevran added: “I think Perinella did find everything. They have sharp eyes, but after discovering the first gifts, those eyes were very much consumed with their search."
"Good. Good." Astala turned to the decked-out table and tucked a flower deeper into the vase standing in front of Perinella's plate. "D'you think she'll like them?"
She looked at Carlo. Carlo gave a cheerful nod and then scrambled off to inspect the plates laden with food closer. Astala turned to Zevran with the same questioning glance.
"I think she will like them," Zevran said. "They are big, and colorful, and look expensive. She loves those things."
"She does." Astala smiled and turned to him. "And you think she liked the whole affair?"
"So many questions," Zevran said and laughed. "Are you worried, my Warden?"
"They're reasonable!" Astala protested before her single-minded focus returned. "So, did Perinella like it?"
"Ah, I was a far-away observer, amore," Zevran teased her. "Why do we not wait until she arrives to see?"
Astala scoffed. "I've been in here the whole time, Zevran! Just tell me!"
"Why so impatient, my Warden?" Zevran said and laughed. "Such a mother hen you are at times."
"It's her first naming day," Astala said miserably. Her eyes turned big and round. "Please, Zevran? Just give me a hint."
Ah. He wanted to continue the ruse. It was far too satisfying after his own worrying and rumiating. But those big, pleading eyes...
Loud, labored steps up the stairs saved him from squirming any further. Zevran opened the door. Perinella, hidden behind her stack of gifts, still with Virel in tow, was making her way up the stairs almost blind.
"Ah, donna Perinella," Zevran dramatically declared and took one step towards her. "May I help you with that?"
Something between a huff and a giggle came out from behind the stack of packages. "No!"
"As you wish." Zevran bowed just as dramatically and then smoothly stepped back and away from the door entirely as she sailed into the room.
Perinella marched across the room and sat her heap of gifts down on the bench that ran along the wall. Then, very carefully, she sat a fat envelope on top of it. Those had to be the well-wishes. She had collected them.
"Was it fun?" Astala asked.
Perinella nodded and replied in careful Fereldan: "I founded everything."
"I'm glad to hear it," Astala said with a wide smile. "It would be such a shame if you missed any of them."
"I do believe, however," Zevran said, "that there are more gifts to hand out."
And he pulled his packed gift out from behind his back.
Carlo, however, was faster. He all but shoved his gift into Perinella's hands and waited impatiently for her to open it. The dragon, princess and knight puppets he had chosen for her—with Astala's help—were met with shining eyes. Especially the princesses’ fine gown drew her attention. Virel was next. He very seriously handed Perinella his gift, a belt made to hold several potion vials. It was received just as seriously; one more attempt from an older brother to keep his little sister safe.
And then it was his turn. Zevran stepped forward and handed Perinella his gift. As she was opening it, he stepped backwards, keeping himself further than an arm's length away and watching the paper rather than Perinella. She carefully peeled the wrapping off and pulled out a fine cloak.
It was a Fereldan cloak, but it had been retrofitted and altered to bear stitching local to Antiva. They were beautiful, colorful, and they looked expensive. Rich wreaths climbed up the seams, small stars climbed up the backside. The inside of the cloak was lined with pelt. A clasp in the style of an Antivan sun held it close. Zevran held his breath. Perinella shook it out and held it up, face serious, but her eyes had widened. And it didn’t look like fear or anything of the sort.
"Your own coat looked so sad," Zevran said quietly, repeating the words he had often heard from her. "I hope this one will keep you warm and also make you feel like a lady of high standing."
Perinella looked at the cloak and said nothing.
“Would you like to try it on?” Astala asked gently.
At a nod from Perinella, Astala asked for the cloak so she could swing it over her shoulder. Perinella turned this way and that, tugged the cape closer and ran her hand along the fine pelt on the inside. Then she left the room after asking if she might look at herself in a mirror. Astala was quick to answer, of course she could! Zevran noticed Virel’s gaze resting on him; heavy, as always, and scrutinizing.
Perinella returned, and a complicated expression lay on her face. She immediately went to Zevran.
“La ringrazio,” she said.
Zevran couldn’t help the shiver running down his spine at the expression.
“Now, now,” he said, attempting a joke. “Am I an old man that you must speak so formally with me?”
Perinella frowned slightly, and Zevran decided then and there it was best to drop the matter.
“Ah, don’t mind me,” he said with a small smile. “You are doing well. Di niente, Perinella. Ti voglio bene.”
Something fluttered across Perinella’s expression, there and gone. Then she stepped back and Zevran forced his treacherous mind to put the matter to rest.
Astala’s gift came last. Perinella pulled it out of the wrapping and held it in her hands, confused; it was an old stuffed mabari, recently cleaned and mended.
“This,” Astala said, “was mine when I was little. I gave it to my cousin Shianni when I didn’t need it anymore. Shianni now let me give it to you. His name is Fen, but you can give him a different name if you want to. He’s a very, very good sleeping companion.”
Perinella slowly folded her arms around the stuffed mabari and held him to her chest.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Nella,” Astala said with a big smile and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m happy you like it.”
-
They ate, drank, and Perinella finally allowed them to help her ferry the rest of the gifts into the rooms she shared with Carlo and Virel. The night grew late, but even so Astala checked in one last time with the children before going to sleep. Zevran waited for her in the hallway. Outside, the rain pattered against the windows.
He almost didn’t hear Astala’s quiet call for him. He only approached carefully; the children didn’t trust him. He would rather spare them the scare of seeing him peek into their room while they were supposedly sleeping. When he saw what Astala had called him over for, however, he was glad to have looked.
Perinella was lying in her bed, asleep. In her arms, pressed against her face, were the stuffed mabari Fen and the Fereldan cloak with the Antivan stitching.
Zevran smiled as something loosened within his chest and something else tightened in his throat.
She liked it.
-
By the end of the month, Perinella had asked to continue this tradition of the naming day, Carlo had asked every day if his had arrived yet, and Virel had chosen the 9th of Kingsway for his very own naming day. Astala was excited. Perinella wore her cloak, which she did until the weather got far too hot to wear it anymore. Then it was hung up in her wardrobe, right at the front, in its own place of honor. It made Zevran smile more than a single thing—except, of course, for his Warden—had ever made him smile.
-
A couple notes before you leave because I cannot not talk about this story XD XD XD
First of all, I'm by no means an Italian speaker. I do hope what I cobbled together is more or less correct ^^' Here's the translation:
- La ringrazio: formal way to say "thank you"
- Di niente: "You are welcome"; "It is nothing"
-Ti voglio bene: "I love you"
(Am I cobbling together Italian and Mexican Spanish and the fantasy swearwords Zevran uses for Antivan? Yes I am)
Second, I love these kids so much omg. Carlo is about 8 here, Perinella 10, probably, and Virel 12-ish? It's hard to tell. They don't know for certain how old they are. Carlo is nonverbal, and has picked up a few very limited signs. Astala, mostly, is currently trying to get them both to learn more, but Carlo has never spoken. Turning his thoughts into word, even if they're not spoken words, is hard for him. Again, I have no personal experience with this. I have done and am in the process of doing my research, but if anything catches your attention that could be done better, please let me know.
The idea for this fic, as well as the idea of Carlo starting to break things in order to get hugs was developed alongside bumbleRhizal (whose Novhen Tabris is an abolute delight). Basically, Carlo once broke something by accident. He was so so so scared of the consequences, but had developed enough trust into the adults now in his life that he decided to risk it and confessed his mistake. He was comforted, told that he had done a very good thing indeed and that he didn't have to be scared. And the broken thing could be replaced anyways. Here, let's clean it up together. And Carlo did admit to his mistakes from that moment on, mostly, but he also found that breaking something was a very convenient way for asking for hugs. He's a street kid. He did not get hugs prior to this. At some point, the adults figured out that the boy hadn't just developed a bad case of the clumsy and started working on it. He still got hugs, just not when he broke something.
The reason Perinella doesn't speak Fereldan (or, in this case, English, saying founded instead of found), is because she's still learning. She's spent a year in the country. It's a totally different language. It'll take her a bit of time still. Also, she's a mage. Those puppets Carlo chose for her? She'll be animating them with force magic at some point. Somebody will have a bit of a heart attack XD XD XD XD
Virel and Perinella are former Crow recruits. Zevran freed Virel, and then freed Perinella when Virel refused to leave without her. They have been together through thick and thin, and Virel especially does not trust Zevran, despite having worked with him. Old habits die hard, and the kid is traumatized. They'll get round to it and it'll get better. Not in this fic tho
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this one and I'm so so so excited to read and see what everybody else has been making XD XD XD Huge thank you for @zevraholics for organizing this event. Happy ZevWarden week!!
ZevWarden Week 2022 Day 3- Fights and Reconciliation
My kid had her annual check and there was a lot of feels about how fast times flies and kids grow and this happened lol Literally everything I've written in preparation for this week I've scrapped and started over. Any who- I hope you all enjoy this!!!
Zevran was not sure how they got here, exactly, with his wife pulling her dresses off their hangers and throwing her underclothes out of the dresser.
Well. No, that was a lie.
He had not done anything wrong, not really. Leliel loved Isabela. Leliel loved her so much, they were wed on her ship under the full moon, had sailed with Isabela for months on end. They bought each other gifts, though he knew Isabela stole most of it. That was neither here nor there. Leliel loved staying up late with Isabela to talk and drink, to talk about him together and laugh when he caught them.
So what did it matter if Isabela arrived in the morning and Zevran welcomed her into their home? When had he never complimented Isabela for the way the ocean sun blessed her skin or how he noticed the new rings and necklaces she wore? When had he never embraced his friend in greeting, knowing his wife would join them, happy that Isabela had returned? Sometimes, she even beat him to it!
Zevran sighed, holding the white dress Leliel had thrown at him to his chest.
“Mi amor-”
“I hate it! I hate everything!”
“Don’t say that, you love that dress.”
“You don’t,” she said rather miserably.
“That’s not true-” Zevran caught the gold chain right before it hit his face.
“Y me vas a mentir en mi cara?!” she shrieked. “You never look at me like that anymore! You never say anything!”
Zevran set the chain and dress on the dresser and joined her on the floor.
“Don’t touch me!” she cried as he tried to reach out to her. She shoved a pile of clothes in his arms. “None of this fits anymore! Nothing looks right anymore! And don’t you try to tell me it does!”
“We can go get new clothes, I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
“That’s not the point, Zevran. You don’t want me anymore! And I get it. Isabela is beautiful and her body is perfect and she isn’t hot and sick all the time. You could’ve just told me, I get it I do-“
Zevran reigned in the urge to sigh and threw the clothes aside. She breathed in sharply and was looking at him with tear filled eyes, and he imagined she thought he was now upset with her. He wrapped his arms around her, not letting her go as she wept and weakly pushed against him.
“Leliel,” he said softly, “enough.”
It took no effort to carry her out of the closet and to their bed. To put as many pillows needed at her back to keep her comfortable. With soft kisses and whispered words, he convinced her to let him leave the room long enough to get the bath filled with water. He couldn’t help the smile when he returned and she willingly wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to the tub.
He took his time undressing her, pressing kisses to every spot of exposed skin until he fell to his knees and kissed the swell of her belly, placing his hands there. Leliel’s hands naturally covered his, moving them to feel the baby kick.
“Tienes que ser más tierna con tu mamá, angelito,” he spoke softly and kissed her belly again before getting to his feet. Leliel was still crying, but she was smiling and that’s all that mattered.
Zevran helped her into the tub and took his time washing her hair and though he had no intention of doing anything more than bathing her- well, they both ended up needing a proper bath after that.
He carried her to bed, massaged her body with oils and combed her hair. He held her in his arms, telling her how much he loved her, how much he desired her always, and a string of praises until she began to fall asleep.
“I’m sorry, Zevran,” she whispered. He heard her sniffle and sighed.
“Whatever for?”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, I promise I didn’t…”
“I know.”
He couldn’t help it when he smiled as she began to cry again.
“Ay mi cielo, what will I do with you?”
After many promises to cook her dinner and many, many kisses- his wife fell asleep. He waited until she started to snore, one of the newest changes the healer had told them to expect. He fixed her pillows and got dressed before leaving the room.
He found their friend in the kitchen, sitting at the small table by the window. She’d helped herself to bread and cheese it seemed and had opened a new bottle of wine. The grapes that were in a wooden bowl were nowhere to be seen.
“Tell me you didn’t eat all the grapes.”
“Was I not supposed to?”
Zevran groaned, scrubbing at his face. He would be crying by the end of the night at this rate-
“I’m kidding! And I brought her some of that cake she likes, too. I won’t be making her cry, that’s your job.”
Zevran let out an aggravated sigh.
“Is she alright?” Isabela asked, setting her glass of wine down.
Zevran rubbed his temples.
“She is.”
Isabela laughed. “Serves you right. Though I feel bad… ah, sweet thing. I’ll just get her some bracelets. Oh! Maybe anklets. Who the hell needs clothes when you’re covered in gold!”
Zevran chuckled and rolled up his sleeves.
“You have a point,” he said. “But I’ll leave the search for gold to you, my friend. I have dinner to cook and no doubt a long night apologizing.”
Isabela rolled her eyes.
“I thank Andraste’s ass the guest room is on the other side of the house. Though I will say- well done, my friend.”
Isabela began to laugh at the look Zevran gave her. She rose to her feet and drank all the wine left in her glass.
“I’ll be back with gold. Don’t make her cry again, or I’ll be the one cheering her up.”
Isabela hurried out the kitchen cackling, missing the knife Zevran threw after her.
(Later, when Leliel wakes up, she'll find Isabela there and she'll apologize though Isabela will just laugh it off and use that as more reason to bother Zev. They'll have dinner and eat the things she's been craving, they'll talk about baby names and Isabela will get emotional about feeling the baby kick but Zevran and Leliel won't say anything. It's a good night.)
Is there any such thing as being sufficiently skilled as new parents? Who knows, but a very tired Neria and Zev are doing their best.
Their daughter Carena was completely unexpected, but Zev couldn’t be happier to discover that he’s a father, even if he’s a bit lacking in experience. He dotes on her, giving her everything he never had as a child and loving her more than he’s ever loved anything.
A last minute change to my idea for this prompt inspired by @antivan-beau who asked to hear more about them as parents :3
I think Zevran would be a wonderful dad! Silly, loving, simultaneously overprotective but also lets kids play with knives at age 5 because, "it's educational."
In my Zevmance worldstate, Edric Surana and Zevran never have children. They go through phases where they care for and mentor some liberated Crow foundlings, but they never regard themselves as fathers.
But I have friends with wardens who have both adopted and biological children with Zevran, and I love to read their stories and meta. @raymurata and @snarky-warden come to mind, but I'm sure there are more :)
Sometimes I just need soft Zev and Mara being soft and happy with their baby girl. And sometimes, I need Zevran holding their little girl and looking at Mara sweetly.
