“I don’t see them,” said Dorian. Feeling a bit better now, he warmed his hands to the fire. “Anywhere.”
“Solas is working his mojo,” said Bull. “They had a hard day. Let them be.”
“Yes, fine. I have no problem with elven make-up sex in a temple sanctum by the light of the moon. That is the way of our world, so it seems. But where the bloody hell did they go? They were right over there just a moment ago, but now—”
“They’re hidden, I suspect,” said Morrigan. “It seems Solas has doubled down on his own illusion spell. The two of them are beyond even our detection. They could be anywhere.”
“Nice,” said Bull. “Hey, Dorian. Maybe you could get Solas to teach it to you. This…spell.”
Dorian sighed. “As much as I hate to admit it, I’m afraid that Solas’s mastery of the Fade and its many illusory qualities is outside even my particular talents. I can, however, make time appear to pass more slowly than it actually does. He can’t do that, I don’t think. Anyway, let me know if that’s something that interests you.”
“Oh, it interests me,” said Bull. “I wonder what we could do with that. Any suggestions?”
“No,” said Dorian.
“Morrigan?”
She leaned back with her elbows in the grass, sighing in profound exasperation. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being the fifth wheel on a wagon so profoundly bizarre as this one?"
“No,” said Bull, happily, “but I've got to admit, it’s probably pretty weird.”
“Probably,” said Morrigan, “would be an understatement.”