Chapter 66

The only good thing about Orlesian parties was the cheese. The cheese was great, and Alistair would happily tell anyone that. He had been telling Teagan, but Isolde had dragged him off to who knew where. Not that he minded. Having the cheese table to himself wasn't a bad thing at all.

Well, almost to himself. An older gentleman stood at the table beside him, looking at the cheeses. He had a cane in one hand, and sported a rather dapper look.

"Young man," said he and Alistair turned to him. "This is my first party in this land. Tell me, which cheese would you recommend for someone in my situation?"

"Oh, I always go for the slightly toasted ones, myself," he replied. "Something about the-"

"-rich, golden tan just arrests you, eh?"

Alistair grinned. "Yes, actually."

The man nodded and picked up a small wedge of cheese and sniffed it. Then he held it out to Alistair. "What do you make of this?"

Taking the wedge in his hand, Alistair sniffed it too. "Goat's milk."

"A young kid, at that."

"Fed on mountain grass."

"The best pastures at the very tippy-top."

"Toasted by hand."

"Aye. Middling heat."

"And equally toasted on both sides."

"Soft."

"Melts in your mouth."

"Shall we?"

"Let's."

Alistair split it roughly in half and handed the man a slice. Then he put it in his mouth.

"Mm."

"Mmm."

"Mmmm."

"Mmmmm."

Alistair closed his eyes. "This cheese is enchanted."

He heard the man laugh. "Or possessed. You can never tell what is or isn't possessed these days. I once had a broom that got possessed by the spirit of my old saucepan. Had to shift houses."

"Why?"

"I got swept away."

Alistair snorted but stopped himself from laughing as he didn't want cheese particles escaping from his mouth. Such good cheese deserved to be swallowed fully. After successfully doing so, he smiled and said, "And I thought my jokes were bad."

"No such thing as a bad joke, laddie," said the man as he casually filled his pockets with cheese. "There's only bad execution. Suppose I tell you that a man snored very loudly and one night, a burglar entered his room. At the same time, a small beetle went and sat on the man's nostril. And was immediately shot out and hit the robber squarely on the forehead, well, would you laugh?"

"Well... no."

"See? Yet I have a friend who killed people with that story."

"How?"

"Just the way he spoke. Depends on how you go about it. He's a marvellous cook, though very catty. And he invited people over for meals and told them these stories. The poor devils. Forget the food, they had to be rushed to the nearest healer they laughed so much. It was his idea of a practical joke."

"Maker." Alistair shook his head, somewhat amused. "That's absurd."

"Aye, but when faced with the utter meaningless of life, what choice have we but embracing the absurd?" He grinned. "You know, you remind me of another friend of mine."

"Oh? Is he also a fan of cheese?"

"Not really. But he was an unacknowledged royal bastard with dragon blood raised in a temple." Alistair stared at the man, open-mouthed. "He also saved the world from a great big demon, but then he broke a necklace and turned into a giant dragon statue." The man was silent a moment. Then he bit into another cheese wedge. "Good statue, too. Very shiny."

"I... what?"

"Don't turn into dragons," the man said good-naturedly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must do the fishstick. It's a very delicate state of mind."

What.

By the time Alistair had regained his sanity, the man was nowhere to be seen. However, he found Leliana coming towards him with two other women in tow. Mentally putting his latest encounter at the top spot in his list of weirdest meetings, Alistair smiled as he prepared himself for another.

"Alistair," Leliana said, beaming. "I ran into someone and thought introductions must be made." She motioned at the human woman she'd dragged along. "Allow me to introduce you to Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall."

"Oh, we've met before," he said with a smile and shook Hawke's hand. "Though the title sounds new."

The woman laughed. "Yes, well, beating up big qunari hunks tends to raise eyebrows."

"I'll bet. Anders not with you?"

"No. Busy at his clinic, as usual. Is my brother doing all right?"

"He's coming along spankingly. We expect great things from him."

"Now isn't that what every sister wants to hear! Make sure he changes his drawers daily, though. Oh, and give him more vegetables. He hates them, but he needs it and no, he does not know better."

The elven woman at Hawke's elbow, however, spoke up at that moment. "Well. This meeting... was fortuitous." She sounded like she was scrambling for words. "We really shouldn't take up more of your time." She took Hawke by the arm and smiled at Leliana. "Leliana, I'm sure you have... things. That need your attention. Right now."

"Oh, and tell Carver to start combing his hair!" Hawke told them as the elven woman dragged her away. "He always looks like a scruffy little schoolboy."

"That was... something," Alistair said while he waved at Hawke.

Leliana hummed around her wine glass. "I did not know you knew her."

"Warden secrets, you know. Besides, I didn't know you knew her either."

"Also work related."

"And the elf?"

"An... old associate. From Orlais."

"Say no more," Alistair said with a smile as he took her empty glass and put it on the cheese table. "I get the feeling that Duke Prosper's little ball is about to get more exciting than originally intended."

"Would you like to stay and see for yourself?"

With a shake of his head, Alistair placed his hands on Leliana's waist and pulled her close.

"Have I told you that you look stunning yet?" he asked.

Leliana chuckled and slowly put her arms around his neck.

"Yes. Yes, you have."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to hear it again, now would it?"

"Mmm. You look very handsome as well. Trying to impress someone?"

"A very specific someone," he replied and kissed her forehead. "I have no idea whether she's noticed, though. And I styled my hair, too."

"Oh, really? We should go find her. Maybe I can help her notice you."

"Nah. Maybe later. I like being like this."

Leliana pressed the tip of her nose to his, making him chuckle.

"You and I both, Alistair."

"I wish we could have moments like these more often."

"I do, too. But I'm glad we have them at all."

"You know what? We should both retire and buy a cottage somewhere. Turn that halla farm dream into a reality."

"Mmm. Bard, nun, milkmaid... it would be a very versatile resume for sure."

"It'd be fun."

"I know. But you know as well as I that we take our work far too seriously to do anything else."

"Yeah." Alistair sighed and placed his forehead against hers. "I can dream, though."

"One day, perhaps. When the world no longer needs us."

"The day couldn't come fast enough, if you ask me."

"I love you, Alistair."

He smiled and kissed her tenderly, pulling her close. It had been a long time since they'd first done it, but the small, simple action still filled him with warmth every time.

"I love you, too," he told her quietly. "And I always will."

Leliana took his face in her hands and kissed him again. Alistair put an arm around her back, cradling the back of her neck with the other and running his fingers through her hair. It was an Orlesian event. People had been caught doing worse.

He knew people would stare and gossip, but for two people very deeply in love, such things mattered very little. They'd ended a Blight together. A few Orlesians they could handle.

And Alistair knew that the same held true for pretty much everything the world could throw at them.