Azry gives her boyfriend a very fond but disbelieving look, and then turns back to Blaze. "Do you have any idea what that means? Because I'm lost."

"Also. Very lost."

"Ah. Um. Orlesians are kinda...famous. For cheese. And I really like it."

They're also famous for destroying the last home of free elves, Azry wants to say. 

Instead, she kisses the corner of Alistair's mouth. "You were not kidding when you said minor obsession with cheese and your hair."

Alistair is clearly relieved to be back on solid ground. "Yeah, well. I had to come clean with you eventually." 

He pushes a bowl of a stewed...something, to Blaze. "Heard you put Morrigan in her place. Please, please, please, tell me how you did that?"

She shrugs. "I just...showed her what I could do? She...seemed to think I didn't know anything."

“Yeah, that sounds like Morrigan. She’s a bi-“ 

He casts a look to Azry, who raises an eyebrow at him. He swallows. “She’s unpleasant.”

Blaze shrugs. "She's... A way. But there's worse."

“You really are far too nice,” Alistair says fondly. 

“No, baby, you just have a vendetta.”

She leans across the table, winking at Blaze. “They’ve been at each other’s throats from day one. It’s like wrangling cats.”

-It occurs to Blaze, that Alistair had used Templar powers and she tenses slightly.

(Except he'd never used them on her.)

"...I think I can understand why."

“Don’t tell me what it is, I refuse to change for her,” Alistair grumps, not seeing Blaze’s look.

Azry, however, does. 

“What do you think the Prince wants to speak to us about?” She asks Alistair, abruptly changing the subject. 

“He’s probably going to ask you to save all dwarvenkind or something along the like. If your luck holds up.”

Blaze turns her attention to the food, letting the conversation happen around her.

Soon, after they’re done eating, Zevran swaggers in, dropping into the seat next to Blaze. 

“Here’s trouble,” Azry teases. 

"Hello," Blaze greets quietly.

“Trouble? Me? No, no, my dear Warden. Merely strengthening the relationship between elves and dwarves.”

He turns a genuine smile on Blaze. “Hello.”

“Didn’t realise you were that diplomatic, Zev,” Alistair says suspiciously. 

Azry and Zevran look at each other-

-and then burst out laughing. 

Blaze has figured out the implications of that, and is giving Alistair a somewhat bemused look that he hadn't.

Alistair, having now worked out that implication, blushes bright red and ducks his head. 

“Maker’s breath, you are adorable,” Azry says, wrapping her arms around his and pressing a kiss to his cheek.