[Alistair's response was an even shyer smile and an even deeper blush, but there was an undeniable happiness in his expression. Compliments were few and far between for him - compliments like that. He knew he was a good fighter, and he knew he did a good job shielding those fighting at his side from harm, but that sort of compliment was never really about him as a person. He had good skills. That was different.

But just being called remarkable? All the more reason to keep Dorian from harm in every single way he could.]

Thank you.

[And then, with a quiet laugh, he shook his head.] This really isn't the place for all this, is it? With the dank and the mud and the armour. I feel like if I tried to hug you, my breastplate would bruise your ribs or worse.

[And he couldn't have that. But out here, in this environment, he knew better than to take off much more of his armour than his boots. Who knew what could happen at any given time? They could need to fight five seconds from now, and without armour and weapons close at hand, they'd be sitting ducks for anything with half a mind. Well, not entirely - Dorian was still one hell of a mage, but Alistair would prefer neither of them risk fighting without some sort of protective clothing thrown on.

Which meant that gathering Dorian up into his arms would have to wait.]