There are two beds, both of them made for dwarves (thank goodness elves are pretty compact), one of them behind a screen. Zev had left his pack on the other one, so he guides Blaze to this bed. 

"There we go. Bit of privacy."

She nods, smiling. "Thank- Oh."

She cuts off, reaching for Zevran's hand, one of her other hand on her stomach.

He takes her hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it.

She guides his hand to her stomach - where the baby is kicking.

"Is-" Zevran gasps, bringing his other hand to her stomach. "Is that the baby?"

"Mhmm," she nods happily.

"Maker." Zevran stares down at her belly, laughing somewhat deliriously. "They're a fighter, for sure. Those are some very strong legs!"

"We'll see," Blaze says quietly, still smiling.

Zevran drops a kiss onto Blaze's head. "You are going to be an amazing mother."

"I'm going to try..."

"I can help," Zevran says, resting his chin on her head. 

And then he jerks back. "I mean- that was very presumptuous of me. What I mean to say is, if you would like someone to help, I can. I imagine that there won't be much reason for Azry to need an assassin, post-Blight."

"I- that is- I- hadn't really. Thought that far ahead?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Either had I, come to think of it. I hadn't really expected to live this far."

"I guess we just have to see what happens next."

"What happens next is you getting into that bed and sleeping soundly," he says, tapping her nose.

She laughs a little. "Ah, yes. That. I should do that."

He gives her a little, encouraging push. "Yes, you should. Off you go." 

She nods, and steps closer to the bed, ready to get sorted and sleep.

Zevran does the same on his side, falling back into his old practice of taking up as little room as possible.

She can't take up as little room as she normally would, but she's still taking up an impressively small amount of space as she sleeps.

By the time Blaze wakes in the morning, Zevran is already gone.

Well, he was up incredibly early then. Blaze rises, takes care of her morning ablutions and after a few moments debate with herself, ventures out.

-into apparent chaos. 

Azry has the bar staff against a wall, and is shouting at them. 

Alistair stands behind her, looking plenty pissed off himself.

Zevran has a knife in one hand, and is staring down the assembly from a chair nearby.