She isn't sure how long she's been running this time, just that she needs to keep going. (She isn't sure where the Templars are, but she thinks she can hear them, and she can't risk stopping.)

She had, really, stopped processing her surroundings properly a while ago, just runningrunningrunning.

She's definitely startled to stumble into a circle of firelight, and just...stops. (She's exhausted and shaking, and doesn't look at any of the camp's inhabitants because she knowsknowsknows she's in trouble, that she's caught.)

The girl stumbles into camp, and any semblance of peace is broken. Weapons are drawn, magic called to hands and Azry charges to the front of it all, Alistair and the dog at her heels. 

But it's just a girl- an elven girl...and pregnant, by the looks of her. Wild eyed, worn and terrified beyond words. Azry knows this girl. Not her personally, but she has seen her like tumble into the alienage, grief-stricken and desperate. She will not have this girl join a legion of the dead.

"Stand down! Everyone, stand down. It's okay." Azry holds her hand out to the newcomer, keeping her eyes and voice soft. "You're safe. You're okay."

She flinches and hunches further in on herself. "I-i-" she has no idea what to do, what to say. "S-Sorry," she settles on eventually. "M'sorry."

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. No one here is gonna hurt you.” Azry crouches in front of the girl, but keeps her distance, not wanting to startle her. Her hands stay up, where the girl can see them. 

“What’s your name?”

It doesn't, really, seem to calm her down any. She rocks slightly, wrapping her arms tight around herself. But-

There was a question. She was asked a question. She needs to answer that. It takes her a little while to remember what the answer is. (She isn't called by 'her' name very often.) "B-blaze, ma'am," she whispers.

“Nice to meet you, Blaze. I’m Azry. Are you hurt? We have a healer, she can make sure you and the baby are okay?”

"I-" she shakes her head, more helpless than negative. "I- I'm- fine, ma'am. Would just waste-" Except, except she doesn't know her baby is fine, and whatever price they want would be worth it to know that. She rocks again, not sure how to go back and change her mind, and not sure- "I- my baby? I-"

“She’ll just make sure nothings wrong. You can trust her. She will only heal you. We swear.”

she calls over her shoulder. “Wynne! We need you!”

“Hey, Hey! It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“It’s all right, little one. Let’s check up on you,” Wynne says, hands glowing blue as she slowly reaches out to the young girl.

She's shaking, and flinches away slightly, but stays mostly still.

Wynne very gently lays her hands on the girl’s shoulders, letting healing magic pulse through her. She tuts quietly, her heart growing heavy as more and more injuries are revealed. 

“Plenty of bruises and a few bones that haven’t healed right. Some open wounds, they can be fixed now.” Wynne does so. “Malnutrition. But, your baby is fine. Once we get some food in you, and you get some sleep, you should feel much better.”

She tells Alistair to fetch some of the stew. 

"I- thank you, ma'am- I. You-" She wraps her arms back around her stomach. "I- I'm fine, don't need-" (the food) "I-" she rocks herself again. She doesn't want to think about the inevitable price.

“You definitely do, my dear. As does your little one. We don’t want either of you to starve.”

Wynne wraps an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Now. Let’s get you closer to the fire. You need to warm up.”

She doesn't quite flinch when Wynne puts her arm around her shoulders, but goes briefly, completely still. But she will let herself be guided, pliant in a way that is more than just exhaustion. (There was going to be a cost, there always was, but... but it would be worth it. For her baby to be safe, and healthy. That was all that mattered.)

Wynne guides the girl to the fire, and sits her down by it. She directs others in the camp to fetch blankets, Zevran gets sent to the river for some water and Alistair hands her a bowl of stew, which Wynne accepts.

"Now, I want this whole thing eaten while I keep healing you. Bowl empty, all right?" 

Wynne begins to work on the bruises, hairline fractures and scrapes she missed before.

She's hesitant to take the bowl, but does, and curls around it, almost like she expects it to be taken away.

"I-" she looks at the bowl, at how much is in it, nods unsurely. "Yes, ma'am."

(It's an order, even if it's more than she's ever been given at one time before, more than she thinks she's capable of eating, but she doesn't know when she'll get another chance.)

Pauses. "You- I. I'm fine without-" (being healed). "You shouldn't waste-" (any resources on me).

“Nonsense, dear. We want you and that baby at your healthiest.”

She notices the way the girl is wolfing down her food. “Woah, woah! Slow down. No need to rush, we’re in no hurry. Take your time.”

(It's for her baby, it's for her baby, it's for her baby. The cost is worth it.)

She flinches, and freezes, "I- sorrysorrysorry."

And...waits, until she's certain no-one is about to take the bowl from her, to resume eating, a little slower than she had been before.

“There’s no need to be sorry, dear. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Azry watches the girl, sees how she flinches and apologises, and bile builds in her throat. 

“Definitely signs of abuse. And humans say elves aren’t oppressed anymore,” she mutters bitterly. Alistair wraps an arm around her and squeezes, trying to comfort her. 

She blinks at down at the stew, not sure what to do with Wynne's words, and eventually just nods, continuing to eat slowly.

There's a sound of clanking armour, shouts and heavy booted feet. 

Blaze is still for a moment, closed in on herself, because nonono.

Then she scrambles to her feet, upsetting the bowl she was cradling, not even thinking about the mess and lurching away from the sounds because she needs to run.

Azry hears the soldiers approaching, and her mind reels. Can’t sense them, so not darkspawn. Loghain’s men? She thought her camp was well hidden-

And then Blaze stumbled away, face terrified, and Azry no longer cared who they were. They were going to die. 

“Everyone! Arm up, protect Blaze!”

The Templars clanked into the clearing, immediately fanning out and drawing swords. 

One stepped forward, in the armour of a Captain. “Surrender the girl,” he ordered. 

“No,” Azry spat, drawing her own swords. 

Wynne drew Blaze close to her, forming a shield around them both. Her instincts as a loyal Mage told her to hand Blaze over, but the way the girl arrived in the camp, the clear signs of abuse, the pregnancy-

No. These Templars would not have their victim back. 

She half tries to evade Wynne's grasp, but exhaustion works against her. But...

...they're...not just handing her over?

She's shaking against Wynne's side. "Please," she whispers, letting herself hope they'll protect her baby. "they'll hurt my baby." (She doesn't care if they hurt her, she deserves it, she knows she does, but her baby doesn't, and never would, and that was why she ran.)

“Don’t worry. We won’t let them touch you.”

“That girl is an apostate! We are carrying out Chantry Justice!”

“And I’m telling you. I’m not giving you back your victim. You have abused this girl and we will not stand for it!”

“Last chance. Hand over the girl.”

“Go to hell.”

She clenches her hands into fists. Ignores every part of her that's telling her she needs to just...go back, that she's not worth protecting, that she's wrongevilbad and deserves everything she gets. (She can't, a much larger part of her is reminding her that her baby needs her to not.)

Flames flicker around her hands, and she doesn't even seem to notice it.

“Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.”

The Templars charge forward. 

Azry does the same, rolling past one, the springing up to take on another. 

The rest of the group springs into battle, defending Blaze, even though some harbour guilty feelings about killing members of the Chantry. 

This...doesn't make sense. That complete strangers would defend her. (No-one has ever defended her before.)

She's shaking harder, and the fire this group had set leaps. She won't let them get hurt because of her. (Even if the idea of attacking the Templars is terrifying, and she knows it'll just make things worse for her when they inevitably recover her.) Flames arc from the fire to one of the Templars.

The Templar screams as the fire envelops him. 

She flinches at the screams but doesn't relent. (She's not worth this, but she won't let these strangers get hurt because they thought she was.)

The Templar tumbles to the ground, screams cutting off as the fire consumes him. 

"That's enough, Blaze! He's dead!" Wynne catches hold of Blaze's hands.

It was always harder to stop. But she triestriestries. She can't extinguish the flames, but she certainly isn't controlling them any more. "Sorrysorrysorry," she says, rocking back and forwards, not quite trying to pull her hands away.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You did well,” Wynne tries to soothe. The poor little thing hasn’t even been trained properly. What sort of circle did she come from?

The Templars put up a fight, but they’re no match for Azry and her team. She slices the throat of the last one, and they fall with a gurgle. 

“Right. We need to dispose of them,” Azry says after a beat. Alistair’s mouth drops open, like he wants to argue, but he closes it quickly, looking at Blaze. “Morrigan. Can you?”

Morrigan grins wickedly, summoning purple fire that quickly burns through the Templars. 

Azry returns to Blaze. “Are you okay?”

She ducks her head down, wants to wrap her arms around herself, but Wynne is still holding her hands. She twitches slightly at the purple flames, eyes drawn to it.

Her eyes dart back to Azry (her knees at least). "I- yes? M'sorry, I- you should've- I-"

Wynne lets her hands go, holding her shoulders instead, wanting to wrap the poor girl up. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Blaze. They were bad men that needed to die. Now we can focus on getting you healthy and making sure your baby is born safely. If that’s what you want.”

Wynne calls Alistair over. “Once the fire is gone, check them for Blaze’s phylactery. That way we can be sure she can’t be tracked down.”

Alistair raises an eyebrow. “You want to flout Circle laws?”

Wynne gestures at Blaze. “In order to protect mages like her, I think such laws need to be broken.”

Alistair is quiet a moment. “I agree,” he says finally, and walks back over to the burning Templars. 

She immediately wraps her arms around her stomach, protective, scared, because she's not used to people asking what she wants, and she's never wanted anything so much as she's wanted the child she carries. She curls down as much as she can with Wynne's hands on her shoulders, and closes her eyes.

"I d-don't want to- be...a burden," she mumbles, doesn't open her eyes, just...waits.

Wynne walks around her, crouching in front of her. She tucks a piece of Blaze’s hair behind her ear. “You will never be a burden. Your life, your health, is not burdensome. Never again will you feel like that.”

“Hear hear. We will protect you, and the child. And thank you, for helping us fight,” Azry says. 

She's still for a moment, and then just...starts crying, rocking slightly. Because she doesn't know how to deal with this, no-one has ever done anything like this for her before (even with a price), and she's exhausted and doesn't know what to expect. It is not, entirely, distress that's causing the tears - there's relief there as well, even if she's still sure this can't be real, and they're going to want something eventually, because everyone does.

Wynne is quick to gather the girl into her arms, rocking her back and forth. "Shhh, now. It's okay. It's okay. It's all over. You're safe now."

Alistair does find a small vial, filled with blood that pulses when pointed at Blaze. He shatters it in his fist.

She flinches at the contact, still expecting pain rather than comfort, but let's herself be held and rocked. It takes a little while, but eventually her sobs subside, and she's just leaning against Wynne, worn out and pliant.

“There you go. It’s okay. Cry as long as you need.”

Wynne looks up at Azry. “She needs rest, water, and something filling to eat once she wakes up. I’ll keep healing her in the meantime.”

Azry nods. “Leliana and Anwen will go hunting in the morning. Zevran brought fresh water, so she will have that. And not a single one of us will let anyone close to her that means harm.”

She bends down, face to face with Blaze. “No more running. No more hiding. You are safe with us.”

Leliana retrieves a spare blanket, as does Alistair. Zevran hands over an old pair of boots, only slightly worn in. Morrigan offers a shawl. Anwen hands over, somewhat grouchily, an offering of the roasted vegetables. Sten offers nothing material, but he stands closer to the camp than he had before. Eddie the Mabari snuffles closer to the girl, sniffing her hopefully.

She keeps her eyes lowered (eye contact was a no). "I- as you say, ma'am," she murmurs. (She's not sure she knows what 'safe' is.)

Everyone bringing stuff confuses her, she has no idea what she's supposed to do. She watches the Mabari, a little cautious, but he doesn't seem to be a threat. She's not even entirely conscious of holding her hand out a little towards him (her eyes still dart around, watching for any indication of displeasure from the people around her).

Eddie sniffs the girl hopefully, tail wagging.

"That's Eddie. He won't bite."

She stretches her hand out a little further so she can stroke his ears.

Eddie barks playfully, and nestles close, placing his huge head in her lap.

She flinches a tiny bit at his bark, but settles some when all he does afterwards is put his head in her lap. She risks stroking his head some more, scratching gently at his ears. (She darts a nervous look to Azry, not entirely sure if this is okay.)

“Awww.” Azry titles her head, beaming in approval.

Eddie barks happily, cuddling closer to Blaze. 

She relaxes a tiny bit at Azry's approval, and-

She's exhausted. She wants to just- stop, for a little while.

She leans down to bury her face in Eddie's fur. Maybe she can just stay like this for a while.

Eddie makes a soft little whine, lying down to make himself a more comfortable pillow. 

“She’s exhausted. She should rest.” Wynne tucks a blanket around the young Mage. 

She flinches a little when Wynne tucks the blanket around her, but settles when that's all that happens.

Eddie's warm, and comfortable, and she'll likely drift off.

Eddie curls around the girl, doing his best to not disturb her. 

“Take care of her, boy.” Azry scratches his ears. 

“I’ll keep watch over her while she sleeps,” Wynne says, sitting next to the girl, eyes sharp and protective. 

“Okay. Let us know if you or Blaze need anything.” Azry heads back to the fire. 

And Blaze sleeps, exhausted, but restless, stirring at small noises, but at no point seeming to properly wake up.

Come the morning, while Alistair and Leliana are tending the fire, Azry watches over the sleeping form of Blaze.

Eddie gives a soft huff, not wanting to disturb the sleeping girl.

"Good boy," she croons to her dog.

She wakes abruptly, shooting up to sitting, breathing sharp and panicked. "I- sor-sorry, I-"

Eddie is quick to curl back around her, licking her hands.

"Hey, it's okay! It's okay. Good morning. I thought I should come wake you so you can have some breakfast. We've gotta keep moving soon."

She gives the girl a concerned look. "Are you okay to walk? Maybe Sten can carry you."

She stays curled in on herself, but after a moment, buries her hands in Eddie's fur.

"I- uh- g'morning, I'm- fine, don't need- breakfast, or- or carrying. Can walk on my own, ma'am."

Eddie huffs, pleased, and tucks his head into her chest.

"You absolutely need breakfast! Gotta fuel you for the walk, plus, we want that bub coming out healthy, don't we?" Azry says. She wants to reach down and hug the girl, but the way she's so closed in on herself- well. She reminds Azry of all the young broken things from the Alienage.

"I-" she does, want her child healthy, but- "As you say, ma'am," she agrees quietly.

“All right. Come on over to the fire when you’re ready. You can meet Alistair and Leliana!”

Wynne walks over. “Good, you’re awake. Let’s check you over, hm?” 

Her hands are already reaching to Blaze, glowing blue. 

She flinches away from Wynne's hands, mostly on reflex - people reaching for her has never been good before, always ended in pain, and- That

Wynne's gaze hardens, but not at Blaze. She's angry at herself. Abuses like this happened in the Circle, but Wynne let herself believe that it wasn't common. It was harder to believe her own lies when evidence in the form of a tired, broken little thing cowers in front of her.

"Just a check up, dear one. I won't even touch you. The magic will just make sure there's no lasting damage. Then we'll get some food for you, hm?"

"I- yes, ma'am," she agrees pliantly. (There's no point in fighting, they get what they want eventually, either way.)

Wynne, true to her word, does not lay hands on her. She sends pulses of magic through Blaze to make sure she's healed. Wynne's magic did it's work last night, the girl is in good physical health. And so is the baby.

"Well, well! Look at that. The little one is moving around a bit today," Wynne says, smiling. "If you put your hand on your belly you might feel them."

It takes Blaze a moment to draw her hand away from Eddie's fur. But she does, and rest her hand on her stomach-

There's an immediate look of wonder on her face, and it's pretty clear her attention is going to be elsewhere for a while. (There is, in fact, a small smile on her face.)

Wynne's smile is quick to her lips at that. The girl looks a little at peace and there is a lot to be said for a sight like that doing well for your own soul. She frantically and silently gestures at Alistair, who after several moments of frowning and cocking his head, finally gets it and quickly gets a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread, walking over to Wynne and Blaze. 

"Just leave it by her feet, we'll let her eat in her own time," Wynne whispers, not wanting to disturb Blaze.
"Will I get a chance to say hi? And everyone else?" Alistair whispers back, sounding very hopeful indeed.
"Later. Now, hurry along, you've got packing to do." Wynne waves him away, and he goes reluctantly.

It takes her a little while to notice that there's food been left for her, far too distracted by her baby.

She's a little hesitant to take it, but does - she needs to stay healthy for her baby - and eats quickly. (She considers the bread before eating it, but she has nowhere to hide it.)

Wynne nods approvingly. "That's a good girl."

She flinches a little at being addressed, but keeps finishes eating. (She can't finish it, too unused to eating that amount of food.)

"I- sorry, for the- waste."

"That's all right, dear. We'll build up that appetite slowly. We don't want to make you sick."

Wynne takes the bowl from Blaze. "I'll give this to Alistair to be washed. Are you warm enough? It's going to be cold today."

"I- I can wash it, ma'am?" she says immediately. "I'll be fine."

"Leliana's on dish washing today. We want you resting up right now, you've been through an ordeal."

Wynne frowned, seeing the girl tremble slightly. "You don't need to say you're fine if you're not, Blaze. If you need something, you must tell us. We want to help." Wynne puts the bowl down for a moment, to wrap a blanket around Blaze snugly.

She ducks her head, rocks slightly, flinches a little away from Wynne, doesn't exactly relax when the blanket is wrapped around her, but does twitch it minutely tighter. "I-" she closes her eyes briefly "Don't want to be-" (a burden, is fairly obviously how that sentence should've ended).

"You won't be a burden, or a problem, Blaze. We're a team here. We take care of each other. And that includes you."

Wynne hands the bowl to Alistair, who waves at Blaze, before heading away. Wynne holds out a hand to Blaze. "Now. Up we get. Leliana and Alistair are nearly done, which means we're nearly ready to head out."

Eddie stands, wiggling his tail furiously. He barks playfully.

She ducks her head instead of waving back, doesn't say anything about how much what Wynne's saying doesn't make sense. (It wasn't that the Circle hadn't taken care of her, it had, she just didn't want that life for her child, they didn't deserve that.)

She bites at her lip, and cautiously accepts Wynne's hand to help her get to her feet. She sways a little once upright, but finds her balance quickly. She doesn't flinch quite as badly when Eddie barks this time, manages a small smile even, and reaches down to scratch his ears.

Eddie pants happily, doggy face stretched into a grin. 

"Look at that, you've made a friend! Keep her safe, Eddie."

Eddie barks once, nodding.

"Ready to get going, Blaze? Eddie, Wynne, Sten and me will stick by you. We'll go at your pace."

She smiles a little down at Eddie.

"I- yes ma'am," she nods to Azry. "I- I'll be fine."

“Let us know if you get tired and we’ll stop. It’s a long way to Orzammar.”

She signals to the rest of the group, who head off in front. Azry smiles at Blaze, and nods. “Let’s head off.”

She nods obediently. "Yes ma'am."

She seems more inclined to follow behind them than actually walk with them - subservient in a way.

Wynne falls back to walk next to her. "Tell me, Blaze, what Circle did you come from?"

She flinches at the question. (She won't go back, she won't.) But... not answering wasn't an option. (And they'd killed the Templars hunting her...)

She whispers out the name of her Circle and flinches again, waiting.

"Ostwick!?" Wynne was shocked. To have come so far, starving, beaten and pregnant? "You are so strong to have made it so far, little one. You have been brave. Though I must ask, how did you evade capture for so long?"

She ducks her head and shrugs. "I- I managed to leave when they wouldn't notice I was gone for a while. And then- I don't know. I just- kept moving."

Wynne is quiet for a moment, studying the girl. So small. So slight.
So determined. 

"You are so strong. So brave. You've done so well to get away from them. They're the bad sort, the ones chasing you. Most Templars are good people."

She immediately starts to shake her head, because- "They would've hurt-" (her baby).

But-

But maybe they were? They'd only ever been trying to teach her discipline. And she'd owed them for everything they'd done to teach her that.

"...As you say," she agrees placidly. (It wasn't their fault she didn't learn quickly enough.)

"You seem in two minds about them, little one. You're right. They would've hurt you, did hurt you. And your baby. But they're dead now. They won't ever hurt you again."

At least, Wynne wouldn't let them hurt her again. Even if she had to betray her own principles.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself, hunches her shoulders a little more. "I- Yes. As you say." (That doesn't mean that other people won't try to hurt her baby, but Blaze won't let them.)

Wynne sees the protective way that Blaze hunches over herself, and a wave of fury comes over her. She may be safe from the ones that hunted her from Ostwick, but that did not mean she was done running. 

When this was over, Wynne was taking her to a Circle she knew was safe.

Eddie gives a curious whine, nudging Blaze's belly softly.

She rests her hand on her stomach, not quite pushing Eddie away, but protective. Her other hand rests lightly on Eddie's head, scritching his ears.

Eddie nuzzles the slight bump of Blaze's stomach, whining curiously again.

"I think he's wondering why the little one won't play with him," Azry laughed.

She gives a small smile down at the mabari. "She's not born yet," she explains quietly. "She'll play with you when she is I'm sure."

Eddie gives a disappointed quiet howl.

"Oh, stop that. You've got plenty of other people to play with."

Eddie made a noise that sounded so disappointed.

"Oh, would you listen to that? Suddenly we're not good enough for him, Blaze!"

For a second Blaze seems very confused and then-

She makes a quiet noise that might just be a giggle.

Azry relishes that sound. Finally, a bit of joy out of her.

Wynne laughs along too. 

Eddie harrumphs, before trotting off to the front of the group, knowing they were making fun of him.

"I fear we've insulted my dog."

Blaze looks genuinely concerned at that, and half starts to apologise.

"No, no, it's ok. He's just having a sook. He'll be right back, I think he likes you more than anyone else."

She doesn't look entirely like she believes that, but it does get a shy smile. "I- he's- nice."

"Mabari are good, loyal dogs. Bet there's not many animals like him where you're from."

She shakes her head. "Not many animals at all. Not that I- saw."

"What sort of animals did you see?"

"You forget, Azry, that Circle mages rarely see animals that aren't cats, mice, or chopped up for potions."

She nods to Wynne's comment. "Mostly mice," she murmurs.

"Your Circle needed a cat. The Alienage had one, Mister Whiskers. He was the finest mouse-catcher until he got too fat to chase them," Azry laughed.

"Kinloch Hold had one. Wiggums, I think his name was. One of my apprentices took quite the shine to him."

Wynne sighs. "I hope Anders is all right. We never saw him in the Circle."

"I think that's a good thing," Azry said gently. They had not found the Circle in a good state at all.

Blaze stays quiet - there doesn't seem to be any need for her input. She's still paying close attention to what they're saying though.

"I can't help but agree with you. We did not leave the Circle in a good state."

Wynne looks to the quiet Blaze. "How was your Circle when you left?"

She shrugs a little. "It- seemed much like it usually did? I- I'm sorry?"

"Bad situations always do."

"The Circle works when it's fair, Azry."

"Slavery never works, Wynne."

"I- no- they- they were- trying to help us...control it. So that we didn't- hurt people? Or- or fall to demons?"

"And how does keeping you separate from everyone else help you with that? Mages outside the Circle deal with the same things, and most of the time, better."

"Azry," Wynne says warningly.

"I- I- didn't know any- they were- the only ones who- wanted me."

"That can't be true. Surely you had a family."

"Azry!" Wynne chided, wrapping an arm around Blaze. "The Circle is a mage's family. They protect, teach, it is a good place!"

"That's why there was an uprising in your absence, I'm sure."

Blaze makes a low sound. "I- I don't know what you mean- They-" And maybe it had been good for her, but- but- "I- no-one- they only- only spoke to me if they- needed something?"

“Only if they needed something?” Azry says, disgust creeping into her tone. “Like a servant? Or a-“

Slave. 

"I- yes? I guess? Ma'am..."

“Oh, Blaze. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You’ve come from an awful place. I don’t mean to take you back through the memories.”

“Dear thing. You are safe now.” Wynne wrapped an arm around Blaze carefully. 

To Azry, with narrowed eyes, Wynne said, “Are you quite done attacking an institution you don’t know anything about?”

“For now.” Azry frowned. 

...but she was safe at the Circle wasn't she? And- and Wynne seemed to think she should be and-

Blaze just nods. "I- as you say, ma'am," she murmurs.

"You can put the terrible place you come from behind you now. You have us. We will protect you."

The sun began to dim hours later, and the group veered off the beaten path to find a secluded area to camp. They had lost the river a while back, so they had to make do with the water they had left.

Alistair and Wynne began the evening meal once the fire was built, while everyone else set up tents. 

Azry called over to Blaze. "Can you give me a hand? I need someone to hold the pole steady."

Blaze has been looking around, wringing her hands, with no clue what to do, she's glad to have some instruction. "Yes, ma'am," she agrees, hurrying over to help.

"Just hold it here, keep it upright," Azry directs. She starts pegging down the sheet.

"Can...can I ask you something very personal, Blaze? You don't have to answer if you don't want."

"If you wish, ma'am," she says quietly.

"Do you know who the father of your child is?"

She freezes, and then a faint trembling starts in her shoulders. (She- she could make a guess. But-)

"I- sorry, ma'am," she says, flinching slightly.

"Hey, it's okay, don't be sorry," Azry said, low and trying to be comforting. Her hands itched to reach out to her but she had seen the way Blaze had flinched from touch before. "I guess that means you don't know?"

Disgust boiled in Azry's gut at the thought.

She shakes her head slowly. "I- no. They- I-" She shakes her head again.

"Was...was some of the possible among those we killed?"

She tries to remember who was there. She wasn't really looking at faces. But-

"I- yes? I- I think so?"

"Good. Then we got rid of a few terrible people."

Azry gives Blaze as much of a comforting smile that she can. "If there's anyone left, we'll get rid of them too."

She stares slightly blankly at Azry's shoulder. "I- as you say, ma'am."

"Unless...you like one of them?"

"...They weren't bad people." Which is not an answer, not really.

"What do you mean by that?"

She doesn't know how to explain, not really. "I- they- I owed them? It- they weren't- they didn't have to take me in?"

"You feel like you had nowhere else to go? Not even to hide with family? Friends?"

There's that blank, confused look, and Blaze slowly shakes her head. "I- it was- always the Circle?"

"...always? You...don't know who your parents are?"

"I- no, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"No, Blaze, don't be sorry. I...I guess I just can't imagine a world where I didn't know mine. You were born in the Circle, then?"

She shrugs. "I- I think so? They- didn't really tell me."

"Did you have any friends in the Circle? Anyone you were close with?"

She shakes her head slowly. "I- no. I just-" She shrugs, shakes her head again.

"I kinda want to hug you. Is that okay? You can say no."

Azry pegs down the last bit of the tent and stands back. The structure remains standing.

...She blinks tiredly. "I- if you wish?"

It's not entirely clear whether she actually believes she can say no, if she's just doing what Azry wants, but...

But she does remember gaining some comfort from Wynne hugging her earlier.

Azry carefully wraps her arms around Blaze, being sure to not hold her too tightly so she has a way out if she needs.

"I hope that you come to see us as friends someday. We're gonna take care of you and the baby no matter what. We promise."

It takes a moment, but Blaze relaxes slightly into Azry's arm, and gives a quiet sob. It's not necessarily a sad sound, just a tired one.

Azry holds her a little closer, rubbing a hand up and down her spine, making soft shushing noises. 

“Hey, you’re safe now. You’re safe. You’re with us and no one is going to touch you again.”

Blaze lets her, not-quite-leaning against her shoulder. "As you say." It's pretty clear she doesn't believe Azry, hasn't ever been given any reason to have that faith in people, but equally she isn't going to argue that point.

Azry pulls away slightly when she can feel Blaze’s sobs slow. “Are you hungry? Tired? Let’s get you and the baby comfortable.”

"I- tired, ma'am, but- I'm fine?"

(They could probably guess that she's hungry as well, but asking to be fed is an imposition, sleep... sleep is probably less of one.)

"I'll check how far off food is. Why don't you sit down? Rest your feet." Azry goes over to the fire, still being built up by Alistair to ask him.

The qunari that had walked with her today walks over to her. His face is stern, but there is no anger.

"You don't know how to fight," he says when he reaches Blaze. It isn't a question.

She glances briefly up at him, and then slowly shakes her head. "I- uh, no sir, I- they didn't- I didn't need to. Sir."

"Unacceptable. You cannot rely on rage alone. You must learn to focus it."

Sten offers her a wooden sword. "You will learn first with this."

That gets him a confused look aimed at the hand with the sword. "I- I don't- understand, sir?"

“I cannot teach you magic. That will be left to the bas saarebas in the camp. I can teach you control.”

Sten offers the sword again, not forcibly, but with a surety of someone used to giving orders. 

She's quiet for a moment, thinking about what she's read of the Qunari, of their thoughts on magic. Supposes she should be grateful he isn't asking them to stitch her lips shut.

...and that...that feels like an order. She's still hesitant as she reaches out to take the sword.

"I- thank you, sir?" She wonders if she should offer more.

Sten nods in approval. “You hold it like this.” He arranges her hands. He’s not gentle, but not aggressive. 

“Stance is important. Not being balanced means your enemy will tip you over.” He draws a sword, a smaller one than he uses, and demonstrates the right stance. “You want to feel steady. Sure.”

She still flinches slightly from the touch, but lets him move her hands. She mimics his stance, not exactly, but very close, adjusts for her much slighter frame, still isn't sure she feels steady.

"Move your foot further back. Trust your body."

She follows his instructions, adjusts till she feels balanced.

"Your sword is an extension of your arm. Of your soul. She is as much part of you as your heart. You will learn to trust the sword as you do your magic."

Sten demonstrates a quick movement forward. "Copy."

She listens attentively, nods a little.

Her attempt to copy the motion isn't quite as quick as his, and she doesn't quite manage to accurately replicate it. She frowns and immediately tries again with a little more success.

"Good. Again."

Sten makes the movement again, this time slower, showing Blaze the way the arm was meant to unfold.

Wynne watches, making sure Sten isn't aggressive with the girl.

Azry watches too, except with a smile. Watching the concentration on Blaze's face is enchanting, and she hopes that she's finding it useful.

She replicates the movement again, with more success now that she's seen it slowed down. She moves through it slowly, checking her own movements, and then repeats it at a quicker speed.

"Again." Sten's face is impassive, though he does look like he approves.

The others in the group gather around too. Alistair, especially, seems invested. 

She repeats the motion, intent on getting it right.

She's a little unnerved by the audience, but does her best not to show it.

"Good."

Sten corrects her hands, moves the sword with them in a sweeping motion. "Follow through with the motion. Let your body follow through."

She follows the instructions obediently, and perhaps a little too enthusiastically, throwing herself slightly off balance.

Sten grabs her elbow, not gently, but not too forcefully either. Just enough to steady her, and he lets go immediately after. "Nearly. Steady yourself first. Then swing."

She flinches slightly away from him, but nods sharply, and tries again, this time with a little more success.

Sten frowns at her. “You’re afraid.”

She pauses, biting her lip. "I- Yes sir," there's no use in denying it. "I'm sorry."

“Do not be sorry. What is the cause?”

“Sten...” Wynne says warningly. 

Sten ignores the bas saarebas. “If you afraid of your weapon, you will not use it well. If you are afraid of your enemy, they will get the upper hand. If you are afraid of me, you have nothing to fear.”

"I-" she pauses, trying to figure out how to explain this. "You will- want repaid. And- I fear that."

Sten frowns at the girl. “Do not presume to know anything about me.”

He taps her foot with his sword. “Stance.”

"I- no sir," she murmurs, and resumes the stance.

Sten has her run through the two movements again and again and again until Alistair declares that the food is ready. The group around them disperses.

Sten holds out his hand for the wooden sword. “Adequate. We will keep working on it.”

She returns it immediately. And even if the compliment is barely that, her skin darkens slightly. "I- thank you sir."

Sten nods once, then leaves for his tent. 

Eddie nudges Blaze’s side once Sten’s gone. He whines, looking over to the fire.

She reaches down to scratch Eddie's ear, and then, a little cautiously, moves a little closer to the fire.

Eddie follows her, huffing at people to get out of her way. 

Azry hands Blaze a bowl when she gets close. “You looked good! Bit more practice and we might make a swordsman out of you.”

She ducks her head as she takes the bowl. "I, uh, thank you, ma'am. I- Thank you."

Eddie curls up next to Blaze, chewing happily on a bone Alistair gives him. 

“Would you mind if I checked the babe while you eat?” Wynne asks, kneeling next to Blaze. Her hands are already glowing blue. 

She might still not be entirely comfortable with this, but she nods.

“All right.” Wynne lays her hands very gently on Blaze’s stomach. She frowns. 

“Dehydration. Alistair! Fetch some water!”

“On it!” 

“Other than that, the baby seems fine. Now, onto the mother. How are you feeling?”

"I- fine, ma'am. I- it- I haven't hurt my baby have I?"

“No, I just think you could do with some more water. I doubt you got enough while running from the Templars.”

Wynne tucked some of Blaze’s hair behind her ear. “We must do something about this hair.”

She lifts one hand self-consciously to touch her hair. "Oh- I- as you say?"

"Yes, we don't want it blocking your eyes, dear girl."

A sweet, lilting voice sounds from behind Blaze. "I may be able to help with that."

She jumps a little at the voice behind her and starts to turn to look.

The red-haired human waves, smiling sweetly. She smells vaguely of flowers. "I'm Leliana. I would've introduced myself before, but I didn't want to startle you."

"I, um, Blaze, ma'am," she realises that Leilana probably already knows that, and winces a little.

"Nice to officially meet you, Blaze. Would you mind if I braided your hair? I promise to keep it simple." The longing look on Leliana's face shows that she very much would like to do something elaborate.

"I- if you wish, ma'am?"

Leliana retrieves a few things from her pack. Firstly, she rubs a lotion through Blaze's tangled hair. It smells lovely, and will help her comb through tangles faster and gentler. She then does just that, making sure not to tug on the poor girl's hair. Once the strands are all separated, her fingers work quickly to braid her hair into one long plait, tight enough to stay together mid battle, but loose enough that it doesn't pull at Blaze's scalp. 

"There we are. Though, if we were in Orlais, I would thread a blue ribbon through it. A girly touch," Leliana says, tying the end of the plait.

"Much better," Wynne says approvingly.

"I thank you, ma'am," she says quietly, smiling a tiny bit.

"You're very welcome. I love doing hair. I have to keep mine short, so getting to play with long hair is such a treat."

"You've never done my hair."

"You've never let me!"

Blaze quietly finishes her meal, and then starts to clear her dishes, looking for somewhere to clean them.

"Don't you worry about that, one of the boys will take care of it. You just get some rest."

"Would you like to use my tent? I'm used to sleeping rough."

"I- uh- no, ma'am, that- wouldn't be right."

“You must! I insist.”

“It would be better for the baby for you to be out of the elements, Blaze.”

"I- uh- if- if you-" (She can't, she shouldn't, but- but her baby. She needs to-) "If you- think that's best. Ma'am."

Wynne smiles graciously, but there is a knowing glint to her eye. Blaze will forgo any comfort for herself, but will do anything to keep the babe safe. Wynne will definitely exploit that.

 “Good, that’s settled.”

Azry smiles at the scene, very glad that Blaze is letting them care for her. Her attention is drawn back to the map spread out on the ground, and a few pieces of parchment held down under a rock. 

Leliana offers Blaze a smile, before going to Azry and kneeling next to her. 

“Anything I can help with?”

“Yes, this passage here, was it open when you came from Orlais?”

 The two women bend over the map and are soon lost in discussion. 

...Blaze is a little lost as to what to do now. She's not used to this, and it shows.

“Come sit by me, Blaze.” Wynne sits at the mouth of her tent, sewing holes in socks. 

She joins her. "I- can help with that, ma'am?"

“Finish your food. Then maybe you can help me with some knitting.” Wynne sees Blaze’s need to be useful. It makes her angry again, wondering why the Ostwick circle would dare treat a young girl that way. 

"Yes, ma'a," she agrees, and does that.

Once Blaze is done, Wynne gives her a ball of wool to untangle. “I don’t think we’ll have time to knit a jumper, would you like gloves or socks?”

"...Ma'am?"

“Gloves or socks? Do your hands or feet get colder? I imagine you’ve been wearing the same socks for a while, now I think of it. Some nice warm socks will do nicely. Help fill out those boots Zevran gave you.”

Wynne gently tugs one of the boots. “Let me see how big I need to make them.”

She obediently removes her boots. "I- my feet are- normally fine, ma'am? The boots are- strange."

“...you don’t normally wear shoes? But your feet! They’d be so cold!”

"I- not really, but- um. Whatever you think- best?"

“Hmm.” Wynne does not approve of a young, pregnant girl going around with bare feet in the freezing Fereldan winter.  But, on the other hand, Blaze is an elf. There are things about elves Wynne did not realise until meeting their own Dalish elf Anwen. 

“Well, you must do what you feel is right, but maybe just for camp, for sleep, something warm for your feet? If only just to ward of sickness.”

"I- yes, ma'am. That- yes, ma'am."

“Good. All right, let’s get started.”

Wynne shows Blaze how to feed her wool, while Wynne’s needles click away, the Mage herself looking up to check Blaze’s feet. The size must be perfect. 

Blaze is careful with following her instructions, making sure to get it just right.

"Lovely. We'll have these done in no time."

Wynne lapses into silence, only speaking to gently help Blaze.

Quiet falls over the camp, as everyone readies for sleep, making sure they knew the people on watch on different times.

A few weeks later, the group is setting up camp close to Orzammar. They are two nights walk from the entrance on Alistair's map.

Sten watches as Blaze moves through stances again. He frowns.

"Faster."

She's not much more relaxed, but she's getting used to Sten, and her response now is barely a flinch as she resets herself and pushes herself harder and faster.

"No, not fast enough you forget to watch yourself. Concentrate."

She tries again, but can't seem to get it the way Sten wants her to.

She purses her lips in frustration.

"Do not relax your stance just because the blade has followed through, remain steady or-"

The rest of Sten's instruction is cut off.

Zevran makes a tutting noise, stepping up next to Sten. "Now, now, you cannot expect her to throw her weight around like you! She is small, and not very strong. Not like you, all muscle and strength." 

He gives Sten a very long, admiring look, if only to throw him off balance.

"What young Blaze needs is a quick, agile form of swordplay, should her clever fire fail her."

"M'trying," she mumbles.

"I know you are, sweet thing. It's okay. Not everyone can lug around a sword the size and weight of an elf." Another flirty glance to Sten. 

"The sword you're using is fine. But you need quicker, lighter movements. We won't do anything too strenuous, of course."

Sten harumphs, folding his arms over his chest. "She was doing fine."

"Perhaps. But beings like us need to be able to dodge more than dig our heels in, no?"

"As you say, sir?"

Zevran frowns. "A little too obedient, aren't you? Never you mind, Zevran will fix that. There isn't a soul alive who I will obey," he says with a saucy wink.

She's obviously taken aback by his manner. "...as you say."

"You're frightening her," Sten's voice is nearly a growl.

"...yes. I am frightening her, over you. The hulking wall of muscle."

Zevran pulls out a knife from his belt. He's still in full Crow armour from the day's travel. He hands it to Blaze. "Have a feel of that. Light, yes?"

She takes it cautiously, hefts it thoughtfully. "Yes, sir?"

"Bit easier to swing around than that sword? Well. I suppose wood doesn't feel much like steel."

Zevran takes the wooden sword from her, replacing it with a second light dagger. "Now. Same motions that Sten ran you through, though try keeping your feet light. Like this." Zevran quickly demonstrates.

"Slower. She is not trained."

"Then what good were you?"

"He helped," Blaze flares, fire wrapping around the daggers she's holding. She jerks back. "Sorry."

A shadow falls over Zevran's face. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry if I insulted you by implying you were not trained well. You have progressed remarkably for someone who had never picked up a sword before."

He turns away for a moment, taking a deep breath, forcing memories down, deep deep deep, deeper than even Azry could hope to unearth them.

When he turns back, his trademark smirk was firmly back on his face. "Shall we try again? This time without the flames."

She tries again, actually tries to copy his movements, hampered by the boots she's wearing. She almost-scowls, kicks off the boots, and tries again, feet surprisingly adept at the light movements now they're bare.

"Rude. Those are fine boots. Perhaps a little large, but." Zevran's pout is hampered by the laughter in his eyes. 

He shows her again, moving his feet along with his daggers. The same sword movements Blaze already knows, but doubled and ever moving. "Makes for a harder target to hit."

Sten watches on silently, making sure the assassin doesn't overstep.

She copies him again, focused and sharp.

"Take that away from the camp, please! I will not have anything on fire!" Wynne calls over. It had been common practice the last week to move training away from camp, but Sten had almost convinced Wynne that Blaze would be fine. She would not have fire, accidental or not, anywhere near the camp.

"And be careful with her, Zevran!"

"Wynne, darling, you know my heart belongs to you," Zevran says, blowing a kiss. 

He gestures out into the forest to Blaze. "Shall we?"

"I will accompany you." Blaze, Sten trusts fine. But the assassin-

"Sten! Can you come here? I need your input." Azry is bent over a map, scrutinising it.

"I-" He looks to Blaze.

"'Ll be fine, sir," she assures.

Sten is not assured, but he likes that she made her own decision. So he trusts her, and with a nod, leaves.

She looks to Zevran with a slightly tilted head.

Zevran leads the way into the clearing, taking a torch with them just in case they're out long enough after sun down.

She follows after him, a little cautious about being away from camp, but...

"All right. This seems far enough away. For cautiousness sake, can you summon ice as well as you do fire?"

"I've- never really tried, sir. I- doubt it?"

"I guess we'll just have to run, screaming, back to Wynne should something terrible happen." This is delivered with a smile. After so long travelling with Blaze, Zevran does not fear her. 

"So. Practice. I know it's different to what Sten taught you, but it will come easier to your smaller, lighter, more elven frame."

She nods. "The same motions, sir?"

"Please, sir is not necessary. My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends." He knows she knows this, but can't help a little bit of showing off.

"Yes. But as you do, keep moving. Learn to fight and move at once. That's the harder part."

And it is, although she focuses and tries, she occasionally stumbles, or fumbles. There does not, perhaps interestingly, seem to be a noticeable difference in which hand she favours.

Zevran stops her after a while. "Face me. Mirror my movements."

He begins a slow series of quick dodge-and-strikes. "Easier for you to pull off and escape afterwards. I don't deny that Sten meant well, but there was no way you would be able to fight like him."

She watches him for a moment before mirroring his movements. Nods to his words. Doesn't really act adversely to his mention of Sten here - can see the logic of his words.

Zevran beams. "That feels much easier, yes? And once the baby is out, you'll be even quicker."

"Perhaps," she agrees, pausing, and smiling down at her stomach.

"Oh, none of that now. You are a warrior in this moment, and we have work to do. Come. Again."

He has her run through it again and again, until finally a huge smile breaks out across his face. He grabs her shoulder good-naturedly. "You are such a fast learner! We will make a Crow of you, yet."

She goes briefly rigid and then-

Drops smoothly to her knees, hands reaching for his belt.

"Woah! Woah, Blaze, this-" He steps out of her hands quickly, heart thudding in his chest. "What are you doing?"

She flinches, drops her gaze and draws in on herself. "I- I thought- repaying you, sir?"

"...repaying?" Zevran feels sick. "You...you did this for Sten?"

He was going to kill the qunari.

"No! No. He- didn't want, but-"

Well. That was a relief. Though not for very long.

"Blaze, why do you think you have to do that?"

"I- every- back in- the Circle. They- I had to. They- they looked after me. I needed to- and- and you've all- given me so much more. And-"

"We want to take care of you, Blaze, we don't need repayment. Especially not-"

Bile rises in Zevran's throat. We take care of you, boy. Don't you want to show some appreciation?

"You don't have to give me anything you wouldn't want to give. I am a true believer in casual sex, it's true, but only when both parties are willing." Zevran's usual humour is brittle.

She- can tell she's messed up here somehow, doesn't understand how-

Hiccups a sob. "M'sorry. I- I don't- didn't- M'sorry."

"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."