#dorian ic

[dragonversed]

starter from Dorian for @heshields

The party are hiking somewhere around the Southern Hinterlands, a fortress appearing in the distance. Dorian has spent a long time traveling alone and company isn’t bad - well not per se, but somewhere between Varric’s complaints about the mud and rain and Sera trying to prank Cassandra he’s found himself of quiet or at least a more affable conversation partner.

 There is the Warden of course, appearing a tad boorish for Dorian’s taste but he’s had worse - probably. “So… you recruit people for the Wardens?” the mage asks as carefree as he can, and tilts his head in the direction of Blackwall. “Does the Order not care about conscripting murderers and criminals? Seems a bit risky, is all.” he points out wondering if he struck a nerve. Oh well.

[dragonversed]

@heshields​ asked: “touch on a falling tear - for dorian”

He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, feet bare touching the carpet. It’s been this way for a while, having returned from Redcliffe and telling the Inquisitor he needs some time. Alone. Blackwall had entered his room, asking, wondering why Dorian appears so somber.

My father was there. Waiting for me.

 Silence, a hand on the small of his back. It’s comforting, in a sense, to know someone cares - even if this is new. Even if Dorian is uncertain of any future to be had, Blackwall is here, large and strong and so considerate it makes him sick; I don’t deserve this, he thinks, almost utters the self-deprecating words. “He tried to change me.” Dorian whispers, and leans against Blackwall’s shoulder, tears blemishing his fine features. A calloused pad of a finger on his cheek, wiping the tear away, soft and caring in a way one doesn’t expect a warrior like Blackwall to be.

 “Please - I don’t, I don’t deserve any of this.” Dorian mutters, and a sob is there in his throat, panic in his chest, and it’s all too much. He breaks down, cries in the crook of his lover’s neck, and for once he allows himself to be held, for how long, he doesn’t know. It’s more than enough.

[dragonversed]

❝ I’ll never understand why you spend half your time running around bare chested… ❞ (at bull ofc but wow it'd be funny if it was for any of ur other muses here omg)

“Pardon me?” Dorian raises an eyebrow, and motions to his impeccable outfit. “This, my dear Inquisitor, is the latest fashion in Minrathous”. Maybe Velawen should keep with the times - being an ancient elf and all. “My chest is barely visible, and what if it is? I’m doing everyone a favour, us running around swamps and whatnot. Beauty should be marveled at.” he added, and raised his chin just slightly. 

[dragonversed]

starter for @aclassikrem​

The Herald’s Rest was as loud as always, soldiers seeking relaxation and the calming presence of the bard as well as the sweet-spoken waitresses and waiters. Dorian could see the Chargers in the midst if another story about some kind of escapade, yet one person was missing from their group. Looking to the right side of the room, Dorian located Cremisius Aclassi, who was presently nursing some ale. Two Tevinters, seemingly alone in a bar but for a different reason - Dorian could tell that Aclassi was always protecting the Iron Bull’s blind spot whereas in his case he had not managed to make …friends with most people in Skyhold. Deciding against his better judgement, and knowing a soporati who had fled the Tevinter army would hardly entertain an altus, Dorian took a chance. His gait short and swift he approached the man, grey eyes contrasting the dimness of the tavern. “Lieutenant Aclassi?” he asked, wondering how one ought to make conversation with a compatriot who hardly was one after all.

[dragonversed]

starter for @wxyfxring (taliesin secata)

He had been walking up the stairs of Skyhold, the ones leading to his favored library - almost taking a double stride in his excitement to read the new Ancient Tevene texts that had just arrived. It had been a long day, the Inner Circle returning from the Exalted Plains, tired and covered in dust. Dorian would rather spend his afternoon with a glass of wine and a good book, and he was minutes away from doing exactly that. Browsing through the new array of books he noticed a woman’s form from the corner of his eye; turning to her, he faintly smiled. “May I be of help - I happen not to be the librarian here, but I might as well be knowledgeable enough.”

[dragonversed]

starter for @hercine

Dorian could remember his feet shuffling at the Inquisition’s steps, heart throbbing, nervousness and apprehension but a determined attitude to serve what he saw as not only appointed divine but just. And he would do a lot for what is right, from wishing to rebuild a nation to fighting alongside people who deemed him just another evil Tevinter magister – that was his life now and was it not for the Inner Circle he would be utterly alone among strangers. 

Walking the battlements of Skyhold, the mage would gaze at the training crowds, seeing people cheer on as the Chargers ran another competition. From the corner of his eyes he noticed Cousland, heroic and perfect, hair shining below the early afternoon light. Feet confident and eyes trained to her, Dorian took several strides closer, a polite bow if not a tad theatrical. “My lady Cousland – I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you before.” He smiled, all honest features of a face that often had to lie, “Dorian. Of House Pavus.”