"No, no, bambina, it's all right. It's all right." Zevran is careful not to touch her. He knows this, knows her, incredibly well in this moment. "You have nothing to apologize for. They- they were wrong. We do not owe them anything, much less our bodies. Those who care will not ask us such. They will respect us."

He doesn't even realise the change from 'her' to 'us'.

...Blaze notices though, and looks at him, confused through her distress. "I- us, sir?" Because that doesn't make sense. He's- so much more than her.

Zevran flinches. He hadn't even realised, hadn't heard himself admit something he hadn't in- Well. He could just deny it, bury it back down deep, pretend, the way he had for years. But Blaze's face, the way he knew she hoped there was something better, and the knowledge that he could tell her that, it was enough to break down a little of the wall he had built around those terrible memories.

"I...I had Templars like yours, of a sort. They believed I owed them something for rescuing me. But I was not rescued. I was bought. I was treated like property." Zevran sucked in a deep breath. "But I am not anyone's property. I am my own person and I will make my own decisions. I owe no one anything. Except maybe Azry. But people like her? Like us? We do not want repayment. We don't need to take advantage of innocent souls."

Zevran's gaze turned unusually fierce. "And we will never let anyone use you again. You are free, Blaze. Of them, of anyone who would be like them. If you would like to set them aflame, I will happily assist. Though I am no mage."

She wants to believe him, so badly, and it's obvious. But she can't, not yet. She shifts, a little closer to him trying to- signal something. She doesn't understand it, really, but...she wants the comfort Azry and Wynne's hugs have brought, but doesn't know how to ask, how to initiate. Wants to give comfort in turn, for Zevran having to suffer that...

Zevran puts his head in his hands. He feels sick. He feels ten years old again. He feels foreign hands on him, pushing and pulling and touching-

He shoves it all back down deep where it belongs. He is better now, stronger. And free of them. He turns a smile to Blaze. "It's getting dark. We should head back to camp, no?" He stands, grabbing the torch from the ground.

"I- yes, sir," she agrees quietly. Pauses. "We can- the daggers? Again? Please?"

Zevran regards her sadly, probably more than he intends to. "Of course." 

He leads the way back to camp.

She manages a smile. "Thank you. I- appreciate it. I do."

Zevran stops for a moment, the camp close by but far enough away that they could still have a private moment. 

"Blaze, I need you to promise me something." He turns to look at her.

"I- yes sir?"

“Don’t ever give yourself up like that. Not to me. Not to anyone. Ever again.”

Then, despite knowing he shouldn’t, and dread filling his heart for her reaction, Zevran pulls her in close, holding her.

She lets him pull her in, slightly tense, and then-

Sort of relaxes against him, hands coming up to cautiously wrap around him in turn. "I- I'll- try, sir?" she promises, not sure she can promise more than that.

Zevran cradles her head, thumb stroking along the part in her hair. “And no more calling me sir.” 

He pulls away after a while, cocky smirk back in place. “Come. If we stay away too long, Wynne will have my hide.”

That gets him a shy smile. "I- I'll try."

And then she'll follow him back to the camp, eyes still a little red from her earlier tears, but a little more settled somehow.

Sten walks up to them almost immediately. "You were gone some time." It's an accusation.

Zevran shakes his head minutely, enough that Blaze shouldn't notice. 

"What are you, her training nanny? We had things to practice." He gives Blaze a big, charming grin, before swanning off into camp to tease Wynne.

Sten nods as he passes, satisfied. 

"Did you find the training easier?" He asks Blaze.

-on the other hand, Blaze is very observant, and right now she's hyperaware of Zevran. She doesn't comment on it though.

"I- yes?" she admits. "It's- I- not that I didn't like- it just- felt better?"

"You would make a terrible qunari." 

And there is a slight twitch to his lips, an almost smile.

She giggles. "Probably."

Sten's lips curl in a small smile. Big for him though.

"Come. There is food for you." He leads her back to camp.

Azry sits by the fire with Alistair. She smiles at Blaze as she approaches, though pokes her tongue at her. "You could've said you were learning to duel-wield! That's my speciality too!"

"I- it was a little sudden. Ma-" Pauses, takes a careful breath. "A-azry." She still flinches as she says it, but she manages.

Azry feels little pricks of joyful tears, but is quick to blink them away. "You must make Zevran let me sit on a few lessons. He may be good at the whole sneaking thing, but I'm much better at real fighting." 

She sends Blaze a cheeky wink. 

Alistair hands Blaze a bowl of stew and a portion of bread. "That's the last of it till we get to Orzammar. Unless dwarves don't have bread. In which case, oh no."

Blaze settles down with the bowl and bread, a content smile on her lips - she's getting better at eating without looking like she's worried they'll take it from her, and she's eating more as well, as she gets used to regular meals, and larger portions. It doesn't look like she's ever going to have a massive appetite, but it looks less like she's one missed meal away from starvation.