A/N: Evidently, the ship is called Lelistair. Shoutout to KingDaemonBlackfyre for that piece of intel. Hope you all enjoy. No, there won't be a follow-up chapter for some time.

"Could you pass me the salt, please?"

Alistair complied without looking up from his own plate.

"Maker, you can't even look at me, can you?"

"Nope."

"You're overreacting."

"Maybe it's just that time of the month for me," Alistair mimicked Leliana and put down his fork with purpose, looking up and focusing his gaze at the rafters. "Every time I look at you, I think of leaking blood out of..." he shuddered. "Then I think of all that happening to me and I just... no..."

He heard her snort. "It's the sign of a healthy body, Alistair."

"Sure. But it's also disgusting." He held up his hands and looked at her tentatively. "I'm sorry, but it is. I'm sure I'll get used to the idea in a few weeks. Or months. But they don't teach us stuff like that at Bournshire. They teach us the number of ways one can emasculate abominations and deal with maleficar, not the various ways in which a woman can suffer." He paused. "You're sure that it isn't some form of blood magic?"

"For the thirteenth time, yes Alistair, I am sure. It happens to every woman."

"Huh." He stabbed a piece of venison with his fork. "I hope it happens to Arlessa Isolde more often. Or that old biddy from the monastery. Unless she's dead already."

"It's not a form of punishment, you know. It's just something we have to live with."

"Given a choice, would you rather live with or without it?"

"Well..."

"Exactly." He smirked victoriously and pointed his fork at her face. "You wouldn't. You put up with it because you have to." Then he stuck the meat inside his mouth and chewed. "All ahm shayin' ish that it ish dishgushting to imagine." He swallowed. "Not to mention horrifying."

Leliana rolled her eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Alistair."

"Are you telling me that you weren't the least bit horrified the first time it happened? Not even a bit? Come off it, Leli. Had it been me, I'd have thought I was dying or something."

"Hmmm. The first time it happened, I was very young, so I don't readily recall all the details." She shrugged. "But I remember being afraid. I believed I was sick. Or cursed."

Alistair flipped his palms and sat back. "Well there you go, then."

"But it isn't disgusting."

"I'm young and impressionable, you know. Things like that can scar me for life."

Leliana hummed and placed her elbows on the table, leaning in with a smile and twirling a lock of her hair with a finger. "You know, I've been wondering about that..."

Alistair sensed his stomach trying to force its way out of his arse, but he stood resolutely, fork in hand, at the face of danger.

Be brave, Ali-bear!

"Wha-wha-what were you won-wondering about?"

"Since you're such a young and impressionable man brought up by the ways of the Chantry," she began, her lips quirking into a smirk. "Have you never...?"

She left the question hanging, just like her open mouth. Alistair gulped.

"Have I never what?" When in trouble, misdirect. "Had a good pair of shoes? Seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

She laughed at that. "You're avoiding the question."

"What, I'm being serious! Okay then, you tell me." He leaned in this time, emboldened by his newest creation and lowered his voice just like Aedan had taught him. "Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

It was a partial success. She chuckled, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes didn't go away.

In a slightly breathy voice, she licked her lips and said, "All the lampposts."

"Impressive. I've heard that it's painful and that there's much pointing and laughing involved. Oh the humanity!" Alistair laughed and shook his head as he leaned back into his chair. "And to answer your question, no I haven't had the pleasure." He paused to skewer the final piece of meat on his plate. "Not that I've not thought about it, but y'know."

"Oh? Never had the opportunity?"

He chuckled. "You've lived in a Chantry yourself, Leli. Not exactly the place for rambunctious boys."

"Perhaps not, but there were many a lovely young initiate in the Lothering cloister. All of them chaste and virtuous." She smirked and tilted her head. "It added to their mystique. Because then, they were forbidden, and forbidden fruit is always the sweeter, no?"

"And what about your fruit? Are they forbidden?"

Got you, Alistair thought with some pride when he saw Leliana's eyes widen in surprise.

"M-my fruit?" she stammered, cheeks reddening. "They aren't technically forbidden, but they aren't freely given out either!"

"Right. Because you were only affirmed instead of an initiate," he said with a smirk, chewing his meat slowly and suggestively.

When Leliana placed her chin on her hand to try and hide her blush though, Alistair shook his head.

"In all seriousness, Leli, I was taught to be a gentleman. Especially around beautiful women such as yourself." Ah, if only they could see me now. "That's not so bad, is it?"

He watched Leliana's smile grow wider. He had no doubt that it mirrored his own.

"You think I'm beautiful, do you?"

"Of course I do. I'd be blind not to," he said seriously. "You're ravishing and resourceful and a whole bunch of other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

"I would never hurt you, Alistair."

"Nor I you."

They sat couched in silence, smiling across at each other stupidly. The rowdy atmosphere of the tavern didn't seem to be intruding upon their little bubble. Alistair found himself unable to look away from her face now. He thought that the gentle curve from her chin to her neck was beautiful.

The information was so worthless he wanted to kill himself. Alistair cleared his throat in an effort to control his emotions from getting carried away.

"While this is the sauciest conversation I've ever partaken in, I have to wash down my embarrassment with some mead now," he said with a chuckle. "Get you anything?"

Leliana shook her head and got up. "No. Just water for me."

"Really? Are you going to tell me now that you don't drink or something?"

"If I do, will you take advantage of me?"

"Of course not," he spluttered, aghast. "Leliana, I would never – you know me!"

She rose from her chair then and placed her palms flat on the table, leaning in close to his face. Close enough for their noses to almost touch. Entirely too close than what was necessary. Alistair's mouth hung open in surprise. He had no idea what to expect.

"Then what's the point of drinking?" she asked softly yet sultrily and Alistair could almost taste her breath. It sent a shiver down his spine and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end.

All too quickly she was gone. Alistair watched her figure disappear towards the ladies room, dumbstruck. He doubted he could even leave his chair. His legs were pretty much gone.

But what was that?! Holy shit! Holy flaming, Andrastian shit! Holy jumping fucking shitballs!

A slap on the back rattled his spine soon thereafter and Alistair felt that he was fully in control of his body again.

"You shoulda said summin'," Oghren told him, clapping him on the back again, sending him into a coughing frenzy. "Now yer moment's gone, boy. You were doin' so well, too."

"Do something? Like what?" Alistair asked and immediately regretted his question as the dwarf's face lit up.

"Well then." He rolled up the sleeves of his tunic. "Lemme just," he cracked his neck, "show you."

With that, Oghren darted off towards the dwarven barmaid not too far from his table. Alistair watched with both horror and fascination, as if he were watching a road accident. He just couldn't look away.

"Are you a baker?" Oghen began. "'Cause you've got a sodding nice pair of buns."

Alistair smashed his forehead into the tabletop.