
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12361659.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Dragon_Age_-_All_Media_Types, Dragon_Age_(Video_Games), Dragon_Age:
      Inquisition
  Relationship:
      Fenris/Male_Hawke, Anders/Female_Hawke, Male_Hawke/Dorian_Pavus, Cullen
      Rutherford/Female_Trevelyan, Zevran_Arainai/Male_Warden, Alistair/Female
      Warden_(Dragon_Age), Fenris/Iron_Bull, Cassandra/Original_Male_Character
      (s)
  Character:
      Female_Trevelyan, Male_Hawke, Female_Hawke, Cullen_Rutherford, Iron_Bull,
      Dorian_Pavus, Cassandra_Pentaghast, Cole_(Dragon_Age), Solas_(Dragon
      Age), Sera_(Dragon_Age), Cremisius_"Krem"_Aclassi, Female_Warden_(Dragon
      Age), Male_Warden_(Dragon_Age), Alistair_(Dragon_Age), Zevran_Arainai,
      Morrigan_(Dragon_Age), Leliana_(Dragon_Age)
  Additional Tags:
      Rewrite, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone_is_Dead, Everyone_Needs_A
      Hug, Anger_Management, Helpful_Cole_(Dragon_Age), Weird_Plot_Shit,
      Everyone_Is_Alive, Dragon_Age:_Inquisition_Spoilers, Post-Traumatic
      Stress_Disorder_-_PTSD, Falling_In_Love, Old_Friends, Character_Death,
      Originally_Posted_on_FanFiction.Net, Exes, Kissing_in_the_Rain, Don't
      Like_Don't_Read
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-14 Updated: 2018-01-13 Chapters: 7/? Words: 22536
****** Quite the Mess ******
by TheOriginalPancake
Summary
     After years of remaining hidden away in Kirkwall, Garrett and Marian
     Hawke respond to a troubling letter sent by one of their oldest
     friends. A hasty move which thrusts them back into the middle of the
     war across Thedas. Meanwhile the illegitimate love child of an elf
     and Ostwick noble emerges from a rift in the sky and shakes the world
     to its core.
     Can unlikely allies band together in time to make things right? Will
     all of the sacrifices made prove to be worthwhile in the end?
Notes
     *Originally posted on FanFiction.Net under my pen name AmySoto. I
     have decided to take this fic of mine, make some huge alterations and
     repost here for a fresh start.*
     Please forgive my lack of beta at the moment, and enjoy!
***** Long Time No See *****
The light of the sun blared overhead through the high arched windows of the
mansion and filtered down through the soft swirling dust to burn its way into
Garrett’s skull. The scruffy mage let out a sigh as he opened his eyes.
Sleep had evaded him another night leaving him drained at the mere idea of
lifting himself from the bed, but with a groan of effort he hefted his weight
up and onto his feet. He dressed slowly as he had nothing to really do but he
knew that remaining in bed would leave him feeling worse than he already was.
 Another sigh escaped Garrett’s lips as he moved out beyond his chambers and
into the upper walkway of his ancestral family home.
It was eerily silent as it had been every day since he had returned. Once
Bethany’s musical voice and his mother’s scolding tone had echoed through the
marbled stone. Bodahn and Orana could be found bustling about in a tither as
they saw to the day to day chores, Sandal whimsically wandering in tow. His
elder sister Marian’s laughter ringing through the high ceiling as she shared a
cup of tea with Anders on the balcony, listening as the healer regaled her with
outrageous tales from his time as a Grey Warden.
Garrett paused at the top of the main staircase leading down to the front room
of the mansion. In another life a spikey gauntlet clad hand would have woven
into his side then, a deep voice rumbling,‘Good morning’…but Fenris had left
Kirkwall nearly half a year ago. The big mage had not seen or heard anything
from the elf since and he shook his head to clear it of the memories that
pressed upon him.
Dwelling did little good. His elder sister was proof of that.
Just then the front door of the mansion opened and Garrett perked up as he
caught the sound of Marian’s heavy boots thudding across the entryway floor. A
moment later the tall auburn haired warrior appeared in the foyer below. Her
sharp blue eyes darted up to where her younger brother stood and her thin lips
instantly split into a smile.
“Good morning Brother,” she said as she tossed her gauntlets onto the low table
to her left and uncoiled her long braid from the knot at the back of her head.
“Good morning Mar,” Garrett responded as he completed his decent. “How did your
night patrol go?”
“Well enough. A few thugs decided to try their luck in the Alienage and as you
can imagine that ended spectacularly for them.” The bearded mage chuckled at
his sister’s cocky attitude as she moved to rifle through the small stack of
mail sprawled across another table. “Did you sleep at all,” she asked as she
plucked one of the missives from the pile.
“Not much, but some…please don’t worry about it Mar,” Garrett said holding up a
hand in preemptive response to the worried sidelong look he knew she would cast
his way. Marian shook her head.
“I am allowed to worry…” Abruptly Marian fell silent as she moved the missive
in her hand closer to her face. Her breathing hitched and Garrett felt the fine
hairs at the back of his neck stand on end at the look that passed over his
sister’s face.
“What is it,” the big mage finally whispered, the old knot of fear settling in
his stomach.
“It’s Varric, he needs us.”
 
 
Haven was on fire.
All around the sounds of fighting echoed through the mountains creating a
pulsating wave of desperation and fear.
Down in the midst of the chaos Dorian Pavus found himself in uncomfortable
close quarters combat. The fighting was beyond anything he had experienced
before. Enemies poured from every direction and the ground beneath his feet was
wet with blood, still, the Tevinter Altus never wavered. He had been at Tara
Trevelyan’s side when the warning bells had started their clanging and as the
foolishly noble woman raced towards the last standing trebuchet he had every
intention of staying there.
He was glad the The Iron Bull, Cassandra and Varric were also with them.
After countless minutes of endless combat it seemed that they had made it to
their intended target. Tara placed her bow at her back and with shaky hands
moved to begin aiming the trebuchet. Suddenly an inhuman roar split the icy air
and Bull shouted out a warning as a massive beast crashed through one of the
nearby barricades. It took Dorian a second to accept what he was looking at.
The towering pile of flesh and red lyrium took a few staggering steps towards
them then raised its club like right arm.
“More coming,” Cassandra called out as the behemoth let out another roar and
charged towards them. The grey eyed mage snapped to it then, hastily casting a
barrier between their group and the incoming beast. The Iron Bull lowered his
horns and took off at the thing, colliding with it in a flurry of strikes from
his axe. The Altus forced himself to leave Bull to his own devices and turned
his magic upon the group of Red Templars moving in from all sides. He danced
across the battlefield in a blaze of fire only stopping when he came face to
face with a knight.
The once human Templar sent a powerful Smite careening across the frozen
ground. All Dorian could do was brace as the effect of the knight’s attack
shook him to the core. Before he could recover enough to counter the Altus
found himself on the business end of the red Templar’s shield. He was battered
to the ground, his left shoulder erupting in pain as it collided with something
solid.
Dazed Dorian rolled onto his side as he attempted to regain his feet. Time
seemed to move slowly for a moment as he watched The Iron Bull buckle beneath a
lofty blow from the behemoth. Then Tara was there drawing the monster’s
attention with a series of explosive shots and luring it away from the stunned
warrior. But more red Templars were coming up the pass from behind. The
behemoth caught Tara with a sweeping pass of its spiky arm tripping the rogue
up and causing her to slip into the blood wet snow.
They were overrun, and they hadn’t even bought Cullen and the others enough
time to escape.
Out of nowhere a ferocious rage filled war cry rang out above the noise of the
battle stunning a few of the red Templars in place. A large ball of fire
slammed into the knight looming over Dorian, incinerating it instantly. As it
faded to ash a towering woman clad in heavy armor rushed past the blinking mage
and hurled herself at the behemoth like a blooded hound, giving Tara time to
regain her feet.
A large hand closed around Dorian’s upper arm and dragged him back onto his own
feet. The mage turned to thank his rescuer but his words failed him as his gaze
collided with a set of deep blue eyes. The hulking man smiled down at him and
pressed a vial of lyrium into his hands before turning and rushing towards
where Varric stood raining down suppressing fire. Dorian downed the potion and
threw himself back into the fight, silently wondering who these two newcomers
were.
“Hawke!?” Dorian heard Varric cry out in a confused voice. “What in Andraste’s
name are you two doing here!?”
“Helping,” a deep masculine voice responded as lighting lit the battlefield
cooking many of the mutated Templars in an unforgiving chain. Dorian for one
was impressed.
”Hawke,” Cassandra’s voice shouted in angry shock as she cut down another
opponent, her eyes moving to accusingly glare at the dwarf.
“We can talk about this if we survive okay Seeker.”
“You need to cheer up Varric,” the burly mage called out as he moved to flank
Iron Bull, shielding the warrior as he carved a line to the trebuchet. Together
the two hulking individuals managed to move the war machine into position just
as Tara and the warrior woman managed to take down the former Knight Captain
Denam.
For a moment the battle stilled, and the group of fighters all took a moment to
breath. “Good work everyone,” Tara said as she moved towards the trebuchet. “We
can still make it!”
A terrifying roar split the sky overhead and they all looked up. Time stood
still as the Elder One’s dragon dove down towards them.
“Move now,” Tara shouted, shoving her nearest companions clear of the impending
blast.
It was all a blur of terrific proportions after that.
Dorian watched Tara stand-alone before the Elder One and his pet dragon. An
archer by trade, it had been odd to watch her heft a sword into her slim hands,
shouting her defiance. “I am not afraid of you!”
 “A phrase many mortals say,” Corypheus had responded mockingly but Dorian had
known that his friend meant every syllable. The truth of her words was
punctuated when Tara swung the blade into the restraint cable of the trebuchet,
letting it fire wildly into the mountain just behind where they all stood. The
avalanche had come then and for all he had known Tara had vanished in the
flurry of ice and snow.
For their part, Dorian and the others had raced to get to the Chantry before
the snow swallowed them as well. They dove into the secret passageway, shoving
and carrying one another down the narrow chute until they found themselves
collapsing before the rest of Haven’s escapees on the side of some desolate
mountain.
Cullen raced towards them then, shoving aside soldiers and civilians alike.
“Tara…?” He asked, his voice tight, his eyes already dulling as he noted the
Ostwick noblewoman’s absence. Cassandra shook her head and the blonde man
nodded, his eyes then falling to two surprisingly familiar faces. “Garrett?
Marian?”
“Hello Cullen,” the hulking mage said getting to his feet and moving to shake
the commander’s hand. “Tell us how we can help. Do you have any injured? I can
assist them.” The tall woman called Marian was the next to reach her feet,
assisting Varric to his as she moved. Her blue eyes slowly fanned out over the
crowd of huddled desperate looking people before her. “Heal as we move,” she
said loudly. “We have to get going. If you are able bodied enough help your
fellows, we must keep moving if we are to outmaneuver the horde.”
“Just like them,” Varric said quietly enough that only Dorian could hear,
watching as the two newcomers moved forward into the throng. “Even when the
problem isn’t theirs…”
 
 
Somehow, even with their collective moral shattered the Hawkes made what
remained of the Inquisition stand as one. Marian headed the group alongside
Cullen trudging through the snow as if she were well rested and leading nothing
but the finest of soldiers. Garrett moved amongst the crowd, tending to the
wounded and calmly helping to bury any who were beyond even his help. No one
knew exactly who they were, though there were speculative whispers, and yet
they followed without question. Those that remained needed someone to lead them
and the Hawkes knew the chaos that could erupt should leadership fail.
For two days and nights they guided the numbed masses through the mountains
before finally Cullen declared they were safe enough to make camp. People
wearily pitched tents and coaxed fires to life, huddling close to one another
seeking comfort and warmth, but in the wake of Tara’s death and surrounded by
unforgiving terrain there was little of both.
The Hawkes moved towards the Inquisition leader’s tent and found the four
advisors deep in the midst of an argument. Without a word the siblings slipped
away and instead went in search of Varric. They found their old friend seated
in the snow amidst a company of what were clearly mercenaries, one of whom they
recognized as the Qunari who had been fighting alongside them back in Haven.
“Varric,” Garrett said the dwarf’s name quietly. A set of sharp eyes lifted to
meet the mage’s gaze, warming at the sight of the colossal Ferelden.
“Hey you two, come have a seat. You both look like shit.”
“You always know just what to say Varric,” Marian retorted as she sank down at
the dwarf’s right. She reached out an arm and pulled her old friend into a warm
hug, kissing the top of his head before releasing him.
“Hmm, I remember you two from the battle. You both fought like hell out there
by the way,” Iron Bull noted as he beckoned for Dalish to pass the flask of
spiced rum to their new companions.
”Thank you, you as well,” Garrett said as he took a long pull from the skein.
”My name is The Iron Bull and these are my men, The Chargers. We’re a mercenary
company that travels all over the world. Currently we are at the disposal of
the Inquisition…if the Inquisition really still exists at this point.”
“Why wouldn’t it,” Marian asked as she wiped the remnant liquid from her lips
before handing the skein off to the man seated beside her. “Your leaders all
still live.”
”Yes, but our real leader, the leader and hope of the people…is dead.”
”That woman who cut the trebuchet loose,” Garrett said sounding distant to
which Iron Bull nodded.
”Her name was Tara and she was the true face and voice of the
Inquisition…without her I don’t know if this will last much longer...me and my
boys are pretty impressed with how you two have been leading us thus far
though, especially considering that no one knows who you are,” the Qunari added
as he shot a pointed to towards the Dwarf across the fire.
”Perhaps I should introduce my friends,” Varric interjected smoothly. “This is
Garrett,” he said motioning to the big mage at his left, “and his big sister,
Marian. I met them both in Kirkwall.”
“Huh. Either of you the Champion then,” Bull asked pointedly. An uncomfortable
silence hovered over the trio facing the Chargers for a minute and then Garrett
cleared his throat.
“If you are asking if either my sister or I was the one who killed the Qunari
Arishok stationed there, the answer is me. I did that and gained the
unfortunate title of Champion from the act.”
”Why do you say unfortunate,” Bull asked his tone mild as ever betraying
nothing to anyone regarding his true feelings towards the matter.
“Because I respected the Arishok, and were it not for the fact that my family
and my friends were in danger in the midst of the Qunari uprising, I would not
have been forced to face him at all.”
”I like you,” Bull said then a smile cracking his battle scared face.
It was then that the group fell into a shocked silence as the sound of
Commander Cullen’s voice rang out in the immediate distance. “It’s her! It’s
her!” Instantly they were all on their feet racing towards the sound along with
the rest of the camp.
They found the Commander stumbling down the mountain side with a half-frozen
and unconscious Tara Trevelyan cradled in his arms. The camp ignited into a
bustling frenzy of hopeful whispers and tentative warnings against such a
miracle. Cullen hastily swept the dead looking woman into a private tent and
Garrett nodded to his sister before moving after him to offer his aide. With a
frenzy about to brew Marian then climbed to the top of a nearby crate and
loudly insisted that everyone return to their tents and wait until their
leaders gave further information.
Beneath the warrior woman’s stern gaze everyone eventually turned to do as she
had bid.
“Your friend is quite the commander,” Iron Bull said in a low voice to Varric
as he and the rest of the Chargers returned to their own space.
“That’s Blue…er, that’s what I called her in Kirkwall. Marian is a bit
intimidating but her heart has always been in the right place…she and her
brother have had a hard life…I didn’t know how much either of them had changed
over the past few years…”
”And have they?” It was a pointed question to which Varric had an immediate
answer, but the dwarf chewed his words as he usually did before sharing
anything.
”They both look a bit more…beaten down than I remember. Especially Marian, but
out of the two of them she had the hardest time when things went to shit in
Kirkwall.”
“She’s a bit slight for that sword she’s carrying but she knows how to use it.
That I can respect,” Iron Bull mussed before falling silent as the auburn
haired warrior made her way back over to Varric’s side. She settled in,
wordlessly staring at the fire before her for a long while. Then she lifted her
hard blue gaze to meet Iron Bull’s and bared her teeth in a grin.
”Introduce me to your men Iron Bull. You seem the kind of people I could stand
to get used to.”
***** One More Step *****
            Templars were all around her. Staring at her with demon red eyes as
Corypheus reached towards her. Pain exploded in her left arm searing through
her entire body as she clenched her teeth against a scream. He was going to
take the anchor…she couldn’t allow it. She tried to struggle but she found she
was unable to move.
 Fear clutched at Tara’s heart.
 She was going to die. Her friends would be subjected to a world ruled by this
raving ancient evil, and Cullen…
 Cullen.
She could see his face, a careful steadfast mask as he was forced to kneel at
an executioner’s block. The edge of an axe testing the back of his neck as some
corrupted follower took aim. Behind him, shackled in a line; Dorian,
Cassandra…everyone…
 The axe fell…
 
With a loud gasp Tara awoke and bolted upright, the image of a beheaded Cullen
lingering beyond her nightmare. “Easy,” Mother Giselle chided softly from the
young woman’s bedside. The sound of her familiar voice helped to ground Tara as
she slowly shook her head to rid the remnants of the nightmare from her mind. A
set of troubled mossy green eyes met the Chantry Mother’s own level gaze
briefly before moving out beyond where she lay.
Instantly she found Cullen’s form and for a moment Tara smiled. Then he,
Cassandra, Leliana and Josephine all began arguing louder and louder until they
were practically shouting in one another’s faces.
”Maker…” the petite brunette sighed, “How long have they been at it?”
”Hours, a luxury they have thanks to you,” Mother Giselle said patting the now
frowning woman’s hand. “Do not judge them too harshly. We have all been through
much. At Haven we saw our leader face our greatest enemy alone, and fall. Now
you have returned.”
“I did not die and then come back,” Tara said shaking her head, “I fell into an
underground tunnel and then walked until I collapsed and was apparently found.
That isn’t a miracle, that’s dumb luck.” Angrily the young Ostwick noblewoman
tossed aside her blanket and stood up from her sickbed intent on breaking up
her arguing friends.
She reached the outer edge of the tent then came to a stop as the giant
stranger she had seen during the battle at Haven stepped up to the group. His
voice was low and calm as he spoke, laying a hand on Cullen’s shoulder as he
stepped into the midst of them. “You four are drawing the gazes of everyone in
this camp. They need to see you unified, regardless of what is actually going
on. So, why don’t you all go to your corners and cool off.”
Begrudgingly the foursome did as the strange man had ordered. Cullen paced
away, his hands wearing over the hilt of his blade and pulling at his hair.
Cassandra was bent unsmiling over a map, though her eyes seemed focused
somewhere far away. Together Leliana and Josephine sat by a fire, unspeaking.
For his part, the hulking man moved to stand by Cullen his hand again coming to
rest on the commander’s shoulder, wordlessly offering support.
They would not survive like this.
Suddenly Mother Giselle’s voice rose over the tense silence.
”Shadows fall, and hope has fled. Steel your heart. The dawn will come…” Tara
watched the Chantry Mother as she swayed out beyond the confines of the tent.
The words of the song continuing from her lips, then the rogue started as
Leliana’s voice abruptly sang out to intertwine with the Mother’s. Then the
voices of those encamped nearest to them swelled pick up the tune. Cullen’s
surprisingly rich baritone lofted its power to the song next. More people rose
to their feet, their voices adding to the meat of the melody until the sound
carried into the night, powerful and full of promise.
The petite rogue watched enrapt. Her skin prickling with energy as the words
washed over the snow covered wasteland around them.
Once the echo faded Tara was surprised to find herself faced by Solas. The
elven apostate asked her to follow him as he wished to speak with her in
private. Tara accepted his request with a wordless nod and the two moved off
into the night.
From her renewed place beside Varric, Marian watched the slight woman move away
with the odd elf. From the looks of things this Tara held no fear of the man,
but the warrior felt her skin crawl whenever she looked at him.
 
“Who are you glaring at now,” Varric asked nudging his friend.
“That elf,” Marian said sounding a bit more vehement than she’d really meant
to.
“Oi, what’s your problem with elves?” The member of the Chargers aptly called
Dalish was the one who had asked the question and Marian shot the other woman
an exasperated look.
”I don’t have a problem with elves Dalish. I do however get a very odd vibe
about him.”
”Oh yeah ‘im? He gives everyone the shivers.”
“Everyone but Tara that is,” Iron Bull chimed in as he pulled out his infamous
skein and began passing it around. ‘To keep out the cold,’ he always insisted.
”Your friend needs to learn to be more careful. Sometimes it’s those closest to
you who can deal the deepest blows,” the warrior commented as she cracked her
long neck.
“Spoken like a true pessimist,” Varric grumbled with a grin as he took a long
drink.
”It’s been a few years since I had you around to constantly cheer me up
Varric,” Marian then teased, a small smile spreading her lips. “I’ve become old
and bitter.”
“I was wondering how to bring up all those new lines on your face. If I’d known
it would be this easy I would have said something earlier.”
“You arse,” the warrior woman laughed as she took a long pull from the skein.
She then turned to pass the container to the man seated beside her. The quiet
brunette accepted the drink with a muttered thank you his eyes never meeting
hers. She found it odd but said nothing. She knew that his name was Krem from
hearing other members of the Chargers speaking to him, and that he was Bull’s
Lieutenant but not much else. He was a sturdy looking man and whenever she had
spotted him during the trek up the mountains he was always assisting another.
At times he had even carried some of the weakest refugees. It made Marian’s
heart twitch in a strange way.
When her own family had been struggling just to make it out of Lothering Marian
would have given anything to have such a person there. That thought brought a
well of sudden tears to her eyes and abruptly the warrior got to her feet and
stomped away from the fire.
”What’s wrong with her,” Stiches asked Varric in a low voice as his eyes
followed Marian’s retreat.
“She’s…the Hawkes are complicated people.”
”How so,” Dalish asked then and silently Varric berated himself for offering up
any information about his friends. Thankfully Dorian appeared then distracting
everyone as he moved to settle in beside Iron Bull.
”Tis a miserable wasteland out here,” the Tevinter native grumbled as he sat
with a flourish of his cloak before holding a hand out for the skein. “Nice
singing though and it’s good to have Tara back.” A series of agreeable nods met
the mage’s words. “From what I managed to eavesdrop we are going to be moving
out in the morning. There is an abandoned fortress a few mountains ahead. That
is our destination. Hopefully it will be more defensible than Haven was.” Again
a chorus of muttered agreements and nods greeted Dorian who shivered and pulled
his thin cloak tighter around his shoulders. “And if luck is indeed with us,
warm as well.”
“Here,” a deep voice said. A startled Dorian suddenly found a heavy cloak
placed around him as Varric’s friend stepped past to sit next to the dwarf
across the fire. Even with one arm almost entirely bare the big man didn’t so
much as flinch in the icy wind.
“Thank you,” Dorian said his own body drinking up the warmth still left in the
fur of the other man’s cloak.
”You’re going to catch your death running around like that Hawke,” Varric said
as Krem handed the skein back over to the big mage. Garrett took a long drink,
though in truth his palate was more suited to wine, then thanked the Charger’s
lieutenant before handing the skein off again.
”I’ll be fine. My armor keeps me plenty warm. Besides, I always have fire with
me you know,” the second eldest Hawke sibling said with a handsome grin as a
small flame burst to life between the fingers of his right hand.  “Not to
mention I did grow up in Ferelden. We’re famous for being a cold wet place.”
”And for being big,” the words were out of his mouth before Dorian could stop
himself. Judging by the startled look on the other man’s face, not to mention
the collective speculative gazes of the others seated around the fire that had
not been what anyone expected him to say. It took all of the mage’s willpower
to suppress the semi-embarrassed flush currently attempting to creep up his
cheeks.
Then Garrett let out a hearty laugh the sound warming the frigid air a minute
degree. “Well thank you for noticing! Being big is one of my finer attributes
after all,” he added with a wide smile. “I make a fantasticshield in a pinch!”
The rest of the group roared with laughter then and Dorian was all too grateful
for the other man’s gracious attitude in the wake of his verbal blunder. His
eyes met his fellow mage’s across the fire and if he had blinked he would have
missed the subtle wink sent his way.
As the rest of the group fell into a low chatter Dorian silently surveyed
Varric’s friend, finally able to appreciate him without crisis raining down on
their heads. He was indeed a giant and a ruggedly handsome one at that. Even
with the thick growth of hair on his face the Tevinter mage could tell that his
jaw was as square as his shoulders. His eyes sat deep within his face, giving
him a thoughtful almost scholarly look that Dorian found utterly intriguing.
When time allowed it he would have to talk with this Hawke, perhaps then he
could show his true aptitude for flirting.
 
After returning from her talk with Solas, Tara made a pit stop to inform
Cassandra of their newly appointed destination, winking subtly at an
eavesdropping Dorian before moving off through the camp to talk to the people.
She was met with many smiles and people kneeling at her feet, all of whom she
quickly insisted not bow to her. She was after all merely a woman, and a half
breed at that. Granted, one who could seal rifts, but even with that she was
still just the same as them. Tired, cold, afraid of Corypheus and what he would
do if he and his army caught up to them now. After making her rounds Tara felt
both morally renewed and physically exhausted so she then made her way back to
the tent she had first awoken in.
She was nearly there when she spotted Cullen walking towards her. His face was
scruffier than she had ever seen it before and his eyes held dark circles
beneath them. When he reached her she asked, “Are you alright,” just as he
asked the same. They both let out small laughs, Cullen reaching a hand behind
his head to mess his already strewn hair as he stared down at Tara with a
lopsided grin.
”It is good to see you alive and well,” she said quietly as a blush warmed her
cheeks, creeping up to the hidden peaked tips of her ears.
“Me? You were the one out there, alone, facing down Corypheus and his dragon or
arch-demon, whatever that thing was! I…Dorian had said that you fell…I thought
that you had…” The commander’s voice hitched and he fell silent then, turning
his face away from her.
”Cullen,” Tara said gently as she reached up to cup one side of his face with
her unmarked hand. “I’m here, I’m alright and I am very happy to see you are
the same.” His gloved hand reached up to hold hers, it was then that he noticed
her lack of cloak and quickly shrugged off his own, wrapping it around her
tightly.
”You need rest and a hot meal.”
“The same could be said for many here. I will be alright, truly, you do not
need to fuss over me. Just please make sure that you too get some rest okay?
You’re no good to me half-awake and…I need my Commander.”
“I will always be ready to tend to your needs…” At that the pair blushed,
Cullen more so than her as he realized how his words had sounded. “I mean…what
I meant was…”
”Hush,” Tara said smiling brightly through her own intensified blush. “I do
know what you meant. We march to Skyhold tomorrow,” she added sounding more
authoritative. “Goodnight Cullen. I will seek you out with the sunrise.”
”Goodnight, Tara.”
The Commander made sure that Tara was safely inside of her tent before turning
to make his way back into the camp. On his way to his own tent he caught sight
of Marian Hawke standing alone out away from any semblance of warmth. No cloak
shrouded the proud warrior’s shoulders but the tall woman stood still despite
the brutal wind that cut down the mountainside. Cullen’s stomach twisted as he
remembered the last time he had seen either of the Hawkes at the Gallows of
Kirkwall.
Maker, Cullen thought as he realized that he had marched over several mountains
at her side in the last few days and spoken barely a word with her or her
brother. Cullen looked around himself and spotted a stack of blankets and moved
to pluck one from the pile before striding out into the snow towards where
Marian stood. The warrior heard someone approaching and shifted her gaze over
her left shoulder. For a brief moment her glare caused the Commander to pause.
He cast a hesitant grin, “You’ll catch cold like that,” he chided as he lifted
the blanket in his hands.
Marian’s gaze melted a little as she turned to accept the blanket with a quiet
thank you. She pulled the fabric around her shoulders then cocked an eyebrow at
the blonde. “Says the man running about without a cloak…it’s been a long time
Commander, you look different than I remember.”
”That bad,” he asked at which she chuckled.
“Not in a bad way…much better than you did in Kirkwall.”
He wished he could say the same. Cullen’s eyes noted the small changes, the
lengthened chord of braided hair swaying against her gleaming plate armor, the
new sword at her back. He also noticed how Marian seemed more gaunt than he had
ever seen her, along with the haunted sink to her once blazing eyes. “You have
changed as well...”
She cut him off with a raised hand. “Do not feel the need to be polite and
return the compliment. I am aware that I am not as you last saw me.” He nodded
curtly before the two lapsed into a mutual silence. “Where are we to go now,”
Marian asked after a few minutes had passed.
“An abandoned fortress known as Skyhold, if we continue our pace we should make
it in just a few days. I would appreciate your continued presence amongst the
soldiers by the way. Your skills are without dispute and would be a great asset
to our cause…if you and your brother intend on staying that is?”
Marian let out a small snort, “You say that like any of us has a choice?”
***** Summons and Spankings *****
Skyhold was a marvelous place. A bit dirty and rundown upon the Inquisition’s
initial arrival but a few weeks of hard work soon saw it returned to most of
its former glory. Shortly after things had settled Tara was named as the
official leader of the Inquisition. The people reacted just as expected. They
were thrilled to have her as their savior once more. She on the other hand at
times found herself longing for the quiet aloneness that came with being
inconsequential. Still, she would never betray the trust that had been placed
in her.
For now it seemed that things were at a standstill as far as Coreypheus was
concerned, so most of Tara’s days had been spent running across the countryside
attempting to close any remaining rifts that could be found in Ferelden. When
at Skyhold she could usually be found in the war room with her advisors, their
discussions as of late centering on Orlais and what would have to be done about
the brewing possibility of civil war.
It all gave her quite the headache and sometimes late at night she could be
found pacing the ramparts muttering to herself over the whole thing.
Aside from a brief incident involving Cassandra attempting to strangle Varric
over the appearance of the Champion and his sister, her friends all appeared to
be settling in as well. As for the Hawke siblings, they had proven to be
invaluable assets at every turn. Marian had taken to helping Cullen personally
train new recruits while Garrett was able to mend almost any injury. Having the
formidable Champion of Kirkwall in their midst was also a huge boost to the
morale of the newly allied mages.
Though at times Tara did worry about Garrett’s sister as whispers regarding the
warrior woman’s former lover reverberated through the hold. Not that anyone
would dare speak of such things openly less they draw the ire of either the
warrior or her massive brother.
It was but one of the many joys of The Game.
 
On this day Tara had elected to remain in Skyhold to see how all of her
companions were doing and take some time to speak with each of her advisors on
a more personal level before heading out on another rift hunt. It was easy for
many people to forget that they were in fact human as well and Tara wanted to
be there to let them know that she at least had not let such knowledge slip her
mind.
She made her way across the courtyard and into the tavern located across from
the Keep, where Bull and his Chargers had made their home. As she reached the
door a tall shadow appeared behind her. “Looking for The Iron Bull,” a rich
female voice asked. Tara turned, and after moving her gaze upwards, found
herself for the first time face to face with Marian Hawke. The warrior smiled
down at her though it did not quite reach her eyes.
”Yes,” Tara breathed as an answering grin split her lips, “have you seen him? I
know he can usually be found here…though I did not check the training grounds
before I came over.”
“I believe that he and his lieutenant are working on something in the yard
today. Come, I shall accompany you to them.” With that said Marian turned on
her heel and strode off forcing the shorter woman to sprint a few steps in
order to catch up.
“Maker your legs are long,” Tara said, her smile widening when her words were
met with a short laugh.
”You are just very petite Lady Inquisitor.”
”Ugh,” the shorter woman made the sound with a decidedly practiced eye-roll.
“Please do not call me that. My name is Tara Trevelyan and though we’ve never
officially met I would prefer that we be friends and you call me just
Tara…unless you would rather I refer to you as Serah Hawke as well?” At that
the severe looking warrior made a comically disgusted face.
”Let us be informal with one another then, Tara.” At that the Inquisitor let
out a giggle.
“Very good…so I must thank you Marian.”
“For what,” the eldest Hawke said sounding confused and halting her pace as
abruptly as she had begun.
“For helping the people here. And for saving my life back in Haven. When that
thing…when what was once Knight Captain Deman had me down I thought for sure
she would have ample opportunity to finish me off. Your interference saved my
life as surely as that underground tunnel did.”
“I am a frontline fighter Tara, you’ll never have to question where I am at in
the heat of battle. That creature was threatening Varric’s life and at the risk
of sounding cold I did not do what I did to save you. I did it because my
friend was in danger.”
“You avoid my sincere thanks regardless of your own motives,” the slight rogue
shot back with a wink before briskly resuming her own walk. Marian had already
liked the Inquisitor for what she had appeared to be but now she found herself
growing to like the other woman because of who she was. “Tis fine,” Tara shot
back over one narrow shoulder. “I shall not bludgeon you with my gratitude.”
Marian chuckled before regaining her stride, easily catching up with the
shorter woman.
They reached the training grounds and found The Iron Bull sparing with his
lieutenant while the rest of his men worked either with dummies or in their own
respective pairs. “Bull,” Marian called out loudly causing the massive Qunari
to halt the training. “The Inquisitor would like a word.”
“My name is Tara,” the shorter woman whispered, “and it can wait if you are
busy,” the rogue added more loudly, only barely resisting the urge to elbow the
woman at her side.
“Nah Boss I got some time, just keeping Krem here polished up on proper
fighting technique when facing a two-handed warrior like myself. Perhaps Marian
would be up to taking my place while we have our chat?”
”Sure,” the warrior woman said with a shrug. She set aside her blade before
vaulting the fence surrounding the sparing ring and moving towards where the
practice weapons were kept. After hefting a wooden broadsword into her hands
she turned to face where Krem stood. He watched her for a moment then his eyes
fell away as they usually did when she was near. The gesture was harmless but
it pricked at Marian’s constantly volatile temper. She pulled bent low as she
tightened her hold on the practice blade and merely shouted, “Hey,” before
charging the lieutenant.
Bull watched it happen, placing a gentle hand over Tara’s mouth when he saw
that she was about to call out a warning. “No, no, Krem needs this,” the Qunari
chided before removing his hand. To his credit Krem did manage to notice the
warrior rushing him just in time to block a hefty blow, though the sudden
contact clearly had him off balance. The two exchanged a few more blows before
Marian’s blade thudded soundly against Krem’s own as they intermittently locked
together.
The auburn haired woman’s gaze bore into his as she grunted in exertion.
“Finally,” she exclaimed, “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever look at
me.” The two broke apart and began circling one another. Krem’s face twisted in
confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh please. Ever since I got here, even when you’re sitting right beside me,
you never look at me or speak to me. What’s your problem huh?” Before the
mercenary could reply the auburn haired woman charged again letting loose a
flurry of strikes. “You’re good,” she added as they broke apart once more.
“I don’t know if I should say thank you or not,” Krem chuckled as he rotated
his shield arm. “You aren’t so bad yourself. Where’d you learn how to wield a
sword like that?”
“I mostly taught myself,” Marian answered before shrugging her shoulders loose,
“and you’re avoiding my initial question.”
            ‘Of course I am’, Krem thought.
He didn’t know how this woman had come to the conclusion that he never looked
at her. In his mind he tried to conjure a moment when he had not been looking
at Marian Hawke since she had first appeared at the Charger’s fireside. He had
not wanted to seem overly attentive, taking care to look away if she looked at
him so as not to be caught in his admiration. Apparently he had avoided her
notice a little too well if she thought him to be standoffish.
“I don’t have any problem with you and the last time I checked it wasn’t polite
to stare, especially at a lady.” Marian rushed him again but this time Krem was
ready. The agile warrior sidestepped her charge and as he turned away gave her
a light tap on the backside with his shield causing her to stumble a few steps.
The lanky warrior skidded to a stop then turned to stare at him wide eyed, her
mouth hanging slightly agape.
“Did you just…spank me,” she demanded as the ghost of a blush crept to the top
of her cheeks. Krem’s smile stretched from ear to ear, he could not help it.
The usually serious woman looked so comically disdainful in that moment.
“You just got done yelling at me about not giving you any attention, so I
thought I would rectify the situation immediately,” the lieutenant said slyly.
Marian’s eyes held a degree of disbelief as she straightened, cocking her head
to one side as an uncontrollable smile tilted one corner of her lips and lit
her eyes.
“You Ser, are shockingly cheeky for one so quiet.”
‘And your smile could turn a man’s knees to jelly,’ Krem thought as he
attempted to shrug nonchalantly.
 
As the two continued to spar Bull and Tara watched while they spoke. The
Inquisitor smiled her approval over how Krem handled himself against the
warrior woman. “You’ve got quite the Lieutenant Bull, his skill is undeniable
but…why did you let Marian almost take his head off?” Iron Bull let out a rude
noise as he raised an eyebrow at Tara’s words.
”First off I don’t believe Marian would actually harm an ally. Secondly, Krem
needs to learn that just because he doesn’t want a woman catching him drooling
over her that doesn’t mean he can just stare at the dirt whenever they’re
nearby.” Tara’s eyebrows both shot towards her hairline.
“Krem…has a thing, for Marian?”
”Really Boss,” Bull said chuckling, “you’d make a horrible spy. Krem wants her
so badly it’s hard to watch when she’s anywhere near him. He gets all quiet as
if he’s forgotten how to talk at all. Honestly, it’s almost as painful as
watching Cullen when you walk by.”
“W-what!? What do you mean,” Tara asked blushing. She and her affections
towards the Inquisition Commander were no secret by any means, and certainly
Cullen had his boyishly unconfident moments, but she’d never thought it was
thatbad.
”Boss I saw him run into a tree back in Haven. You were walking up some stairs
to talk with Dorian. He took one look at your swaying hips and bam! The
Inquisition’s greatest military mind, face, first, in to a tree.” Tara let out
an inelegant snort of laughter that erupted into a full blown fit as she
envisioned the incident.
”That does sort of sound like something he would do,” she admitted once she had
caught her breath. “I enjoy that about him though. He doesn’t know how to be
coy. It’s always what you see is what you get with him.”
“Hmm. Interesting, I always pegged you as having more of an eye for men who
could sweep you off your feet. You know, really turn on the romance and take
charge especially in the sack.” That comment made the small rogue turn bright
red.
“Iron Bull!”
“What?”
”That is…how…I don’t even know how you came to that conclusion, and now that I
mention it I don’t think I really want to, but…still…how would you know what
Cullen is like in bed?”
“Am I wrong,” the Qunari asked looking comically outraged that he could be
incorrect.
“I don’t know,” Tara cried desperately. Then lowered her voice, “He and I have
never…we are not like that. We are not even we! He is my Commander!”
“Hmm. Yeah I bet he likes hearing you say that,” Bull teased eyeing the
incredibly red-faced woman beside him, “Very interesting stuff Boss!”
”It’s really not! Oh, stop it,” Tara whispered firmly as she slapped the back
of her hand against the Qunari’s stomach. “You cannot tease me like that!”
“I can and I will. You’re too serious sometimes Boss, it’s important to
remember that there’s more to life out there than all this shit. And just
because you’re in charge of it doesn’t mean that it has to delegate every
aspect of your life…I guess what I’m saying is you really need to get laid.”
”Okay that’s it! Conversation over!”
“By Cullen…”
“Over,” Tara insisted, her voice climbing once more to a near shout.
“As a professional I recommend at least twice a day when you can manage it,”
Iron Bull pressed his smile growing wider by the second.
”Over!”
“And if he needs any tips you can always send him to me. I give great advice.”
”Blighted tits this conversation is OVER! Marian!”
Oblivious to the other woman’s apparent distress the warrior held up a hand,
her gaze never leaving Krem’s and curtly called out, “Busy,” before resuming
her hold on her weapon.
 
 
High above the courtyard, Dorian Pavus stood at a window watching as Garrett
Hawke’s sister sparred against The Iron Bull’s lieutenant. It had been comical
when he had learned that the auburn haired warrior was actually the hulking
mage’s older sibling. No one would have ever known it by looking at the two.
Then again the Hawkes were not people you could gauge just by looking at them.
If that were the case he would have known everything about Garrett by now.
When he was not assisting in training the mages that had begun arriving at
Skyhold in droves or healing the sick and wounded the big mage often made his
way to the library. He would sneak in with a bottle of wine and tuck himself
away in a secluded corner to read for many hours unless his sister or Varric
appeared to fetch him. It just so happened that his hideaway was located
directly across from the alcove that Dorian had taken up a semi-permanent
residence. This gave the mustached mage a mostly uninhibited line of sight when
the plush leather chair across the way was filled with a certain handsome
Ferelden.
Whether it was over the edge of his current book, in the reflection of the
window’s glass, or at times just blatantly, he gawked at the Champion. There
were days when he actually meant to engage the other man in conversation but
something always seemed to happen to prevent that. Usually it was business, but
at times it was Dorian’s own newfound uncertainty.
It wasn’t that Dorian doubted that the other man would be receptive to his
flirting; he had already proven that this was not the case. And it certainly
wasn’t that Dorian hadn’t given how he would actually go about introducing
himself any thought. This fantasy was usually the last thing the mage
envisioned before bed each night. It always came down to the same thing, there
was just something very different about Hawke.
“She hasn’t injured anyone yet has she?” The unmistakable rumble of Garrett’s
voice shivered up Dorian’s spine and the Tevinter mage whirled to find the
colossus standing just behind him. Instantly the Kirkwall Champion took a step
back, giving the other man some room as he mumbled, “Sorry…I didn’t mean to
startle you.”
”It’s quite alright,” Dorian said cheerfully as his pulse quickened beneath his
skin at their proximity. “And no, your sister has thus far evaded loping
anyone’s limbs off.”
“That is good news indeed,” Garrett said with a breathless chuckle, one of his
big hands moving up to rub at the back of his head. The motion gave the other
mage a grand view of the healer’s thickly muscled arm. Meanwhile Hawke was
silently kicking himself in his own head.
Why had he approached this mage? He had never spoken with Dorian before, other
than their brief exchange in the mountains, and only knew his name from asking
Varric. He had noticed the other man watching him as he read a few times and
his curiosity had been peaked. Aside from that Garrett really had no business
speaking to him.
The big mage cleared his throat and took another small step away, “Yes…well
then, sorry to bother you.”
”You are not bothering me,” Dorian said in a rush, making the other man halt
his departure. “In fact would you perhaps like to…”
”Master Pavus I have a, oh!” The page who came careening around the corner of
the alcove nearly lost his footing in his attempt to not slam directly into
Garrett’s back. “Champion,” the youth breathed reverently as his wide eyes took
in Hawke’s form. “Um, I …I’m sorry to interrupt. I have a summons from the
Inquisitor…actually,” the young man added hastily as he rummaged through the
satchel at his hip. “I have one for you as well!”
Dorian noted the slight clench in Garrett’s jaw beneath his beard at the use of
his title. Unaware the boy eagerly shoved the two missives at the mages before
him before bobbing a bow and jogging back down the nearby staircase. Once he
was gone Dorian moved his gaze to meet with the hulking Ferelden’s. “A note for
us each! I wonder why her ladyship could possibly need the assistance of the
Inquisition’s finest mages?”
With the flick of one manicured nail Dorian sliced open the seal of his own
missive and flicked it open. “Ah, Tara,” he said in a warm voice as he scanned
the page. “Rift duty in the Hinterlands for me…again,” he added as he folded
the note and incinerated it in a flash of fire. “We tried closing this one
before what happened at Haven but were turned back. I do not relish another
attempt, however it is blocking a key path and cannot be left to grow any
stronger.”  
Garrett stuffed his own summons into the back pocket of his pants before
casting the other mage a devastatingly handsome grin. “Well, it looks like we
shall be traveling together.”
***** Big and Loud *****
Chapter Summary
     Rift hunting in the Hinterlands gives Dorian another chance to get up
     close and personal with a certain Ferelden mage.
Chapter Notes
     Five stars for terrible Sera banter.
Garrett could not recall the last time he had been on a horse.
The big mage exhaled and forced himself to relax his grip on the reins for what
seemed like the hundredth time since their journey had begun. Subtly he glanced
around at his traveling companions and frowned. Each of them looked as though
they had been born in the saddle, especially Tevinter mage. Dorian’s hips were
fluid and his gait steady no matter what terrain they traversed. Maker but it
was happy distraction compared to noticing his own awkwardness Hawke thought as
he allowed his gaze to linger on the man riding ahead.
“You alright Big Bird?”
The distinct chime of Sera’s voice carved through Garrett’s thought process
like a serrated knife through butter and the big mage flinched involuntarily.
He swung his gaze over to the elven rogue riding at his left and cocked an
eyebrow. She was literally lying back against her mount, casual as one could
possibly be as she gnawed a long stem of reed between her teeth.
“I am fine,” he said with a shrug. “Just been a while…a long while since I have
been mounted.” As soon at the word ‘mounted’ had left his lips Garrett
internally cringed. He had been warned against using any such phrase around
either Sera, or the Iron Bull for that matter...the fact that he was riding
sandwiched between the two was a mere bonus.
“Oh yeah,” the elven woman said sitting up a bit and sliding an all too wide
smile across her face. “I bet I could help you with that. Put in a good word
with some pretties back at Skyhold? Maybe two! Or…or a tongue!”
At that Garrett rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “Sera I fear that your
pretties and my tastes would not match up as well as you might wish no matter
how many words and tongues you insert on my behalf.”
“Hmm,” Sera hummed as she swiveled her gaze around to crash against Dorian’s
back. “I might still be able to put in a word with one pretty…might not be a
good one though,” she mumbled as an afterthought. Garrett instantly hoped that
his horse would suddenly spook and throw him off of the nearest cliff as he saw
Dorian glance casually back over his shoulder. His gaze was distinctly
unimpressed with the course of the conversation happening behind him and the
big mage could not blame him.
“You just need to let some tension out of those hips of yours,” Iron Bull
chimed in from Hawke’s right. “Riding is all about letting your instinct take
over, allowing yourself to just rock in and out of the rhythm.”
“Maker take me…” Garrett groaned shaking his head. “I fully understand the
mechanics of riding a horse,” the big mage said firmly. “It has simply been
more than a decade since I have had the pleasure of doing so. You can walk
anywhere you need to go in Kirkwall.”  
“Cullen mentioned that,” Tara piped up as she motioned for Garrett to move up
alongside her. “Not that he speaks of his time there much,” she added as the
big mage’s mount came to walk between her and Dorian. “What was it like
there?”      
“Were you wanting to know about the city and its people or Cullen,” Garrett
asked pointedly. At that the Inquisitor blushed moving her eyes to the road
ahead before responding.
“Both I suppose. It would help to understand how this all began.”
The big mage nodded, “I can imagine. You first need to accept that Kirkwall
and…and everything that happened there was just the culmination of things that
have been going on for ages before. You cannot place people in cages, command
them by fear and then expect nothing to happen in retaliation. I am not saying
that magic is not dangerous. There are plenty of corpses I have personally
created that are a testament to the contrary, but I am far more dangerous when
forced to live in constant fear.”
“So you believe in principle behind the Circles,” Bull asked, his voice now
somber.
“I do. Receiving proper training can make all of the difference for a mage,
something I’m sure you have noticed when facing down Venatori?”
“It’s true, I have seen many Templars draw short the first time they encounter
them,” the Inquisitor grumbled. “What Templars we have Cullen is attempting to
prepare for what we will face…but him trying to convey his own experiences
versus actually doing so…I fear we shall loose more men in the days to come.”
Abruptly Tara turned once more to pin both Garrett and Dorian with her gaze.
“What would you two think about conducting training sessions with more of the
Templars? Vivienne might be game for it as well?”        
“Good idea Boss. Training like that could go both ways you know? Our mages
would get to watch how to handle going up against Templars as well. They’re
going to need that edge if you don’t want a bunch of our own giving over to
demons.”
“You’re absolutely right Bull,” Tara said nodding firmly. “So what say you? Are
you feeling up to it?” Dorian shrugged as Garrett looked over at him, one furry
brow cocked towards his shaggy hairline.
“As long as someone else does the ‘shouting orders’ part I am game.”
“Oh I can manage that,” the hulking Ferelden said as his eyes locked with the
other man’s. The low rumble of his voice shivered into places Dorian had not
been ready for.  “Though from what I’ve heard of the woman, Vivienne might be
better at it.”
“Yeah, she is,” Bull moaned as a love struck gaze glossed over his face. The
group all got a good laugh at the Qunari’s expense and then they topped the
ridge.
Instantly Tara halted her horse the others following suite. “There,” she said
pointing down into the gorge. Garrett’s eyes moved down over the rocky walls of
the narrow pass, flitting over the river that carved through its center and
finally came to rest upon the rift. The pulsating swarm of green crystals and
ichor was almost pretty. That is, until one noticed the cluster of demons
milling about beneath its glow.
“I count five wisps, one despair demon and one terror demon,” The Iron Bull
noted as his eye scanned the scene. “Could’ve sworn there was at least one more
terror…”
“Probably underground all creepy like last time,” Sera shivered. “Watch your
feet or they’ll come up right under yer bits,” she advised Garrett.
“She’s not joking,” the Qunari muttered shaking his horned head. “How do you
want to do it this time Boss?”
“We’ll surround them,” Tara said as she dismounted and stretched her legs. “I
want you and Dorian to take the shallow pass across the river and drop down
from the other side. I will drop down from that outcrop by the mouth of the
falls closer to the rift. Sera, you and Hawke will stay on this side. I’m not
sure what your style typically is Garrett, but I want you to maintain distance
unless things get really hairy. You’re our healer and I need to keep you on
your feet.”
Dorian had also climbed down from his mount and was currently watching as the
big Ferelden man nodded woodenly at Tara. “It will be hard to stay out of the
melee,” he informed her with a grimace.
The Tevinter’s mind instantly reclaimed the memory of the battle at Heaven,
Garrett charging across the field, lightning flaring around him as he took on
Templar after Templar in daring hand to hand exchange.
“I know,” Tara said her tone leaving little room for debate, “but please trust
my judgement on this. I am not saying that I want you sitting pretty on the
sidelines fanning yourself and calling out encouragement. You’ll get your
piece. I just want to make sure you are in a position to pull any of the rest
of us out should the need arise. Things turned south fast the last time we were
here.”
“Understood Inquisitor.” Tara and Sera moved off to exchange specialty arrows
and work out a tactic of fire between them allowing Dorian to step up to
Garrett’s side.
“We nearly lost Blackwall at this one,” he said quietly. “I think we shall fare
better with a more substantial ranged team this time.”
“I shall watch your backs do not fear,” the big man said as he stared out at
where the demons lazily mingled. “I can do a good amount of damage even without
being up close. Do you have enough mana potions?” The question caught Dorian
off guard and he silently blinked at his fellow mage for a moment. Not that his
response seemed to be necessary to Hawke who simply reached out and hooked a
finger beneath the potions belt looped around Dorian’s waist. He had three,
substantial enough for most of their skirmishes. Hawke removed two from his own
arrangement and deftly clasped them into place. “A battlemage like you is going
to be taking a lot of the brunt from those things…I don’t want you to find
yourself out there depleted.”
The tanned mage chuckled, “Oh? And I was so looking forward to being rescued
again!” Dorian shot the big mage a saucy smile and was pleased when Garrett’s
cheekbones turn a light shade of pink. The healer opened his mouth to retort
but then Tara’s called, “Move out.” Instead he nodded briskly at the Tevinter
mage and murmured, “Fight well,” before following after Sera to get into
position.
“Come on Vint,” Bull said giving Dorian a light smack on his rear as he walked
past. “Let’s send these demons back where they belong.”
The duo cut across the river and made their way up onto the narrow shelf of
rock along the far canyon wall. They had to move slowly and Dorian’s back had
begun to burn from staying low by the time they reached the end of the path.
There they crouched down to await Tara’s signal. The Iron Bull apparently
thought that it was a prime time to lean in and whisper against Dorian’s neck,
“You’ve got a thing for Big Hawke.”
The Tevinter Altus sighed and batted a hand behind himself as if he were
shooing away a fly. “Must you really make such offhanded accusations moments
before a fight?”
“Or, maybe you just like big in general? Like me, I’m big.”
“A big pain certainly,” Dorian quipped as his eyes searched the mouth of the
falls overhead. Mercifully before the mercenary leader could pop off another
comment about being a pain in some lewdly specific way Tara dropped down onto
the rocky sill near the rift. She took a deep breath and then lifted her hand
in signal to them.
The tanned mage gripped his staff tightly. “I’ll focus my attention on the
despair demon,” he said in a low voice as he gathered his energy around
himself.
In an explosive display of power Dorian fade stepped out to the edge of the
riverbank and sent a large ball of flame careening at the despair demon. The
thing shrieked as it leapt into the air its tattered robes smoking from where
the fire had grazed them. Instantly the demon unleashed a beam of ice that
swung wildly about the battle ground. Dorian sent up a wall of fire between the
area where Iron Bull currently engaged the terror and the despair demon's
attacks to keep the warrior from being frozen from behind. Dorian then cast a
barrier around himself as he unleashed a volley of fireballs at the demon
currently zipping around him.
He let out a low curse as he felt the impact of the nearby wisps’ attacks
shuddering against the barrier at his back. Then he tasted the familiar tang of
electricity in the air and heard, rather than saw, Garrett’s chain lightning
course through the enemies behind him. Sera’s arrows sail overhead as she
alternated firing at the two larger demons. From her place high above them Tara
kept using her mark to attempt to seal the tear itself however there was a
problem. The rift was spewing out a massive amount of crystals that would jut
up from the earth without warning.
Dorian whirled as the despair demon landed on the rocks not too far from where
Garrett stood his ground. The demon let out another wail before spewing a fresh
ice beam at the healer. The big mage dove behind the only rock large enough to
provide any cover, but now he was pinned. The grey eyed Tevinter felt a rush of
adrenaline flood his veins. He planted his feet and cast a tight barrage of
fireballs each one slamming into the unfocused demon and battering it to ash
against the canyon wall. Dorian grinned as the healer’s head cautiously poked
up from behind the small boulder. Garrett caught his eye and smiled back as he
lifted an arm in thanks.
“Vint!” Iron Bull’s shout of warning came an instant too late. The second
terror demon made itself known by erupting through the ground beneath Dorian’s
feet and hurling him into the river.
He landed soundly on his back sputtering as air whooshed from his lungs and
water filled his nose. He sat up wildly looking for his staff. Then the demon
was on top of him lashing out with its spiny limbs and crushing him beneath the
river’s surface with its weight. One barbed talon connected soundly with his
side and he gasped in pain, choking as water flowed into his mouth. Panic
clutched an icy fist in his heart. He was going to drown…
Abruptly the weight bearing down upon him lifted. Blindly Dorian flailed onto
his stomach and began dragging himself away from the beast. He coughed and
hissed in a breath as the pain of river rock and silt being ground into his
wound burned through him. He heard the demon shriek and jerked back around to
face it, but instead found himself looking at Hawke’s broad back.
The Terror bent low and charged the big mage. Garrett never flinched. Dorian
felt the backlash of power as the other man unleashed a mind blast spell that
forced the demon back a few steps and left the creature stunned momentarily.
Then big mage rushed forward striking out with the bladed end of his staff and
carving a deep wound into the beast’s chest. The pain brought the demon from
its stupor and it flailed its many limbs at the mage.
Where Dorian would have cast a shield around himself, Hawke dodged the attacks
without magical aide. The demon lunged down at him and the big man vaulted onto
the creature’s back. Grey eyes widened as they watched the Ferelden mage hook
his staff beneath the demon’s horns and wrenched his muscled arms hard to the
left. The beast’s neck snapped with a resounding crack. Garrett slid his staff
free and nimbly leapt down as the demon’s corpse crumpled to the earth.
In a few long strides the big mage was by Dorian, healing magic pouring from
his hands as he pressed one calloused palm to the wound at his side. “I am
sorry,” he rasped his brows drawn tight and the Tevinter man’s heart gave an
odd lurch at the look that those dark eyes cast at him. “If I had just…”
“Hawke!” The ground just behind the big mage heaved a split second after Sera
had shouted her warning. The other terror demon had made it past Dorian’s wall
of fire and decided to give chase to an easier meal than the Qunari was proving
to be. It exploded up from the earth just behind Garrett, leaping high into the
air and aiming its many talons down at the two off guard mages.
Dorian’s hand was immediately up casting a barrier even as Hawke’s body crashed
down on top of him. The Tevinter mage let out a small grunt as he blinked up at
the portion of the demon’s claw that stuck through his shield and grazed the
large Ferelden’s back. The grey eyed man knew that he should really have been
more concerned with the demon wailing above him and flailing its limbs against
his barrier, but Garrett just smelled so intoxicatingly good.
The big man’s full weight was pressed against him; one thick arm wrapped
tightly around his torso, his right hand cradling Dorian’s head so that it did
not scrape against the rocks. The scruff of Garrett’s beard tickled against the
tanned man’s face in a pleasant way that made the Tevinter want to turn his
head bury his face further into the crook of the other man's neck.
“Incoming,” Sera called as she loosed a volley of arrows. The barbed shafts
impaled the demon a few exploding in a hot toxic haze. Dorian tightened his
focus on his barrier then preventing the demon from moving away as Bull charged
across the river. With only a few hacks from the Qunari’s giant axe the demon
gave one last shriek before it died, its carcass leaving a bloody smear as it
slid down the mage’s shield.
As he let his barrier fade Dorian heard Tara close the rift with a triumphant
shout. Garrett slowly got up, picking the Tevinter mage up easily and setting
him on his feet as well. “Is everyone alright?”
“I’ve got a few deep ones,” Bull said wincing as he let his axe rest against a
rock. “Unless you’re busy,” the Qunari added with a grin. Garrett realized that
he had yet to remove his arm from its place around Dorian’s waist and was
currently holding the shorter man captive against his thigh.
“Sorry,” he said as he let go and stepped over to where The Iron Bull stood. As
the big mage began healing the mercenary leader the Tevinter mage shot the
Qunari a pointed glare. By the time Garrett had finished piecing Bull back
together the two rogues had made their way down to join the group. Tara was
absolutely beaming as she bounced up to stand beside Dorian. She looped an arm
around the mage hugging him tightly as she exclaimed, “That was a spectacular
fight! And Hawke, I have never seen…the way you broke that demon’s neck it was
so surreal!”
“And here I thought that you only had eyes for a certain cloak wearing
Commander,” Dorian teased. Tara flushed casting her own gaze up to glare at her
friend.
“Yeah yeah,” Sera snorted as she surveyed a minor tear in her armor, “Big Bird
is big mountainy meat cookie, let’s get the horses and make camp I’m starving!”
***** Water Works *****
Chapter Notes
     This posting prompted by Hobbit69 who is a terrible influence and
     wonderful friend.
Dorian did not care for camping. It consisted far too much of bugs sharing his
bed, rocks digging into his back and dirt settling into places which dirt most
certainly did not belong. However upon occasion while being dragged across the
Ferelden countryside, they would happen to set up camp near one of the many hot
springs littering the foothills, and the tanned mage would treat himself to a
starlit bath.
It was instances like this that had made the mage fall in love with the stark
wilderness of the South. The air that tasted like damp sage, far more cleansing
than the spiced muggy air of his homeland, which soothed something within him
he could not describe. The constellations were harder to see in Tevinter as
well but here, without the lights of a city to mar their brilliance, the stars
glimmered far overhead without restraint. 
Currently his head lulled back against the large sandstone rocks at his back as
he stared up into the blinking darkness simply enjoying the peacefulness that
surrounded him.
The sound of heavy footfalls made Dorian close his eyes with a huff.
Iron Bull often joined him during his soaks. On the odd night the two would sit
in silence, perhaps only a passing touch or phrase being exchanged at all. Most
of the time however the mercenary enjoyed baiting him with all manner of
dialogue and attempting to grope him when he tried to leave and Dorian was in
no mood for such an exchange this evening.
He heard the warrior break through the line of brush and pause. Dorian let out
a loud haughty sigh, “I shall thank you kindly for refraining from destroying
the mood with your ceaseless yapping. Yes I am naked, yes I look delicious as
we both well know and yes Big Hawke, as you call him, is still a fabulous
distraction on this little venture of Tara’s. There you see, all done!” Dorian
decided to make it an internal challenge to continue to ignore the Qunari no
matter what the lummox did to gain his attention this night and therefore kept
his eyes shut. He could never really get around smiles, the Tevinter mage
thought with a frown, dreadful coincidence considering some of his companions.
And after his little tirade Bull was definitely smiling, the mage could feel
it.
 The sound of rustling fabric and pieces of armor dropping to the ground
alerted the mage that Iron Bull was about to join him. He instantly set about
causing the water to burble up to help mask his nudity, not that he really
minded being ogled or ogling for that matter. It was more that the big
mercenary always seemed more relaxed when the water began to massage his battle
scared body.
Next Dorian heard the muted thoomp of each burly leg entering the water
followed by a hiss as Bull sank down to settle against a rock across the pool.
A few contented sighs later the Tevinter mage was itching. The Iron Bull was
not one to generally listen to anyone or anything unless it suited him, least
of all a huffy Dorian, so why hadn’t he blurted something out yet? Or perhaps
that was his game, to force the tanned man to open his eyes or make
conversation? Blast it all, Dorian thought as he ripped open his eyes while
keeping them fully trained on the heavens above him.
“By the Black Divine say whatever it is you are patiently waiting to spring
upon me! The sooner you get it out the sooner I can go back to relaxing!” As he
practically shouted the last bit of his tirade the necromancer whipped his gaze
down to collide with the laughing eyes of Garrett Hawke.
”But you said not to ruin the mood?”
Dorian thought he might faint then and there. He also knew that he was gaping
like a fish and blushing like some scandalized Chantry sister, his rapier wit
having currently abandoned him. To buy a second of time the mage cleared his
throat and nodded firmly. “I uh thought you were The Iron Bull,” was the first
coherent sentence that mustered its way out of his mouth.
The big mage threw his head back and laughed until his shoulders shook from it.
“Sorry to disappoint you but no, it is only little old distracting me.”
“Kaffas…Hawke please, allow me to apologize for that comment.”
”Oh,” Garrett said cocking one thick brow, “so you do not find me to be a
fabulousdistraction after all?”
Dorian fought against the fresh heat making its way across his face before
casting the other man a warry smile, “Now I did not say that. You were simply
never supposed to know of my appreciation. After all I have a reputation to
uphold you know? Sexiest mage in the Inquisition is not a status I intend to
relinquish without some sort of fight. Letting you know that I find you
handsome does not quite line up with my plans to cling to the title you see?”
”You intended to simply salivate from a distance then?”
”Minus the occasional bodily rescue of course when I can manage it,” Dorian
parried with a wink. Tension bled from his body as the Tevinter realized that
there would not be any repercussions for his careless words.
He settled back against his own rock and allowed his eyes to roam over Garrett
at leisure. The man was nothing but thick muscle and sinew. His skin tawny in
hue, darker in the places where his armor did not cover and a softer shade
where it lay hidden from the sun, minus an odd mass of scar tissue bunched down
the center of the healer’s stomach. Dorian shook his head so as not to be
caught staring at the scar and instead focused on the rest of the other man’s
skin. It looked like the type of flesh that would feel weathered beneath his
teeth, a kind of armor in and of itself. Perfect to grab and kneed in his hands
as he haplessly clawed at the other man’s back. Dark swaths of hair covered the
big mage’s chest and arms which bulged with natural muscle impressive for any
human. To think, mere hours ago that same body had been pressing against his,
so earnestly shielding him from harm…
Dorian casually averted his gaze as he realized he was beginning to become
perhaps a little too invested in his appreciation of the other man. “Thank you
for saving me by the way,” the Tevinter said off handedly. “I’m beginning to
owe you my life a few times over.”
“I told you I make a good shield,” the big mage cheerfully exclaimed.
Dorian let out a laugh at that and nodded.
“That you do. Though I admit I am rather glad that I was able to cast a barrier
rather than allow you to be impaled upon me.” ‘In that context anyway’, the
Altus added to himself as he watched a mild dusting of pink flood the high edge
of Garett’s cheekbones. Briefly Dorian entertained the idea of the other man
being pinned beneath him, his face flushed and pupils blown wide with arousal.
Garrett knew the kind of look the Tevinter mage was giving him and he had to
admit it was odd to feel so breathless. It had been a long time since anyone
had graced him with an appreciative glance, especially one so brazen. Those
grey eyes roaming his partially concealed body stirred something within the
healer that he had for so long assumed was simply gone. He smiled allowing the
balloon of excitement to swell as he held Dorian’s gaze briefly.
The Altus felt his stomach do a flip as he stared into the other mage’s dark
blue eyes and found a spark of answering attraction. Before his own thoughts
could invade the moment with a whisper of caution Dorian leaned forward and
asked, “Would you…like to get a drink some time?”
Garrett blinked back for a moment, and then a positively boyish smile split his
face. “I’d love to!”
 
 
 
Krem huffed as he threw down his training sword and moved to the barrel of
water at the edge of the training ring. His left hand still stung from when he
had pinched it a few days ago and it was making his grip on his shield awkward.
He sloppily picked up the ladle hanging from the hook on the post beside the
barrel, filled it with the clear liquid and drank greedily as his adrenaline
still surged through his body.
An airy laugh made the Tevinter man pause and lift his eyes up over the edge of
the fence. A couple of girls from the Herald’s rest stood leaning against the
side of the building watching him with a matching set of smiles spreading their
stained lips. The blonde one waved and Krem suddenly realized he was standing
bent panting over the barrel with water dripping from his mouth like some
beast.
“That’s a good look for you lieutenant.”
The sound of Iron Bull’s voice had Krem laughing in a second. The brunette
brushed his sweat dampened hair back out of his face as he turned to face the
Qunari. “Welcome back Chief,” he said with a smile as he moved to clasp Bull’s
hand in his own. “Take it the rift hunt went well then?”
”It’s done. That’s the best outcome we could have hoped for. How have things
been here?”
”Good. Mostly been helping to train some of the green troops, haven’t had any
jobs come down the line while you were out.”
”You been watching after Marian like Varric asked you to?” At that Krem
flushed.
The night before the Inquisitor’s party had left the dwarf had approached him
with a nominal sack of gold and requested that he watch over the eldest Hawke
while they were away. He had politely refused the money but also assured the
storyteller that he would in fact keep an eye on the other warrior. Krem nodded
and cleared his throat his eyes roaming the courtyard until they settled on the
warrior in question’s form.
She was near the gates hugging her brother, a smile brightening her eyes.
The sight made the lieutenant’s heart ache.
”She’s been hanging out with me and the boys most nights. Get a few drinks in
her and she almost doesn’t frown sometimes.”
”Is that so,” the Qunari chuckled as he followed Krem’s gaze. The warrior was
speaking excitedly to her brother, her hands patting at the mage’s arms while
he laughed and shook his head. Dorian, Bull noted, was also watching the
exchange from his place at Tara’s side as the Inquisitor handed off her
reports. He caught the Qunari looking at him and excused himself a moment later
to begin trekking towards where the two warriors stood.
“What are they serving for supper in there,” Bull then asked inclining his
horns towards the Herald’s Rest.
”Some kind of chicken dish,” Krem said with a shrug. “Fresh supplies just
arrived yesterday so I think the kitchen gals are trying out some new dishes.”
”You make any requests? Some spicy ‘Vint dishes they need to be experimenting
with?”
“Don’t know any to suggest,” the brunette said with a wink. “I wasn’t from the
fancy side of Tevinter like Dorian.”
”Just make something up and speak as though you’ve got something lodged in the
back of your throat while saying it. Anyone here would believe you,” the mage
said as he came to a pause at Iron Bull’s side. “And speaking of food are you
about to eat? I myself am famished!”
“Yeah we are. Come on, Krem can fill us in on what’s been happening while we
were gone.”
The trio made their way into the tavern and were instantly greeted by a raucous
series of shouts and whistles from the rest of the already seated Chargers.
Bull took his usual seat at the head of the table while Krem settled in at his
right; Dorian moved to an empty seat a bit further down and took note of the
empty seat at the Qunari’s left.
 “Expecting someone else,” the Altus asked motioning to the chair as a full
pint of ale was placed before him. Dalish instantly perked up and looked around
the tavern before moving to pin Krem and Bull with her narrowed gaze.
“Where’s Blue?”
Cremisius’ cheekbones instantly became pink as he found himself under the
laughing stare of The Bull.
”She’s been sitting with you all for more than just drinks eh?” Krem cleared
his throat and nodded.
”The boys have bonded with her and…well…yeah she’s been having her meals with
us as well.”
“I’d like to continue to, if that’s still okay?” The sound of Marian’s voice
made the lieutenant rise to his feet faster than Iron Bull could blink. The
rest of the Chargers smiled amongst each other, before they all turned knowing
gazes towards their leader.
”Of course you can,” Krem answered before the Qunari could even open his mouth.
”Room for one more perhaps,” Garrett asked as he came to stand behind his
sister. In his hands he carried fresh pitchers and two empty tankards. He
smiled down the table and winked boldly at Dorian. Skinner caught the exchange
and wordlessly moved down a seat and patted her vacated chair. The siblings
moved to take their places and Dorian was thrilled to see the big mage come to
settle in across the table from where he sat sandwiched between Dalish and
Stiches.
”Always have room for a Hawke,” Bull said as he moved to fill Marian’s cup for
her. The warrior raised her tankard at the mercenary leader with a respectful
nod before throwing back half of its contents in one gulp.
‘Lady can handle her alcohol’, The Iron Bull noted silently. His eye wandered
down the table to Garrett watching him just as closely as the mage filled his
own cup. ‘Liquid not to the brim…polite sip to hide a smile, didn’t work, still
smiling at Dorian.’
The blonde Bull has seen fawning over Krem sashayed her way to the table,
pausing just to the brunette’s left with two large serving trays balanced on
one arm. “Hungry,” she asked, her voice purposefully breathless.
”Yes ma’am,” the Tevinter warrior said as he began to pass dishes down the
line. The blonde continued to shift her hips closer and closer until she was
practically straddling Krem’s shoulder, not that the warrior noticed, but Bull
did. He also observed the way the kitchen girl kept trying to ‘subtly’ flash
her cleavage in his lieutenant’s face as he helped unload her trays. The
mercenary leader also noticed that Marian had also taken note of the waitress’
flirtatious actions and was currently fixing the other woman with a hard stare.
Oh, this was going to be good.
***** How to Parry and Flirt *****
Chapter Summary
     After gentle prompting from my goddess muse and best beta, Hobbit69,
     here is the next chapter!
“You are sure that this is a good idea?”

Dorian grinned as he watched Cullen pacing the length of his office. Tara’s
eyes followed him like a cat from her perch upon the edge of his desk and
nodded insistently. “Of course I am. Our allies come from all walks of life,
most of whom have never seen the kind of magic and terrors we will be going up
against. I think having a taste of it before getting into an actual combat
situation could be very beneficial!” The blonde wordlessly continued pacing
prompting the Inquisitor to add, “…You feel differently I take it?”
“People aren’t perfect Inquisitor and if I may be frank I am more worried about
Dorian. What Templars we do have are paranoid as it is. Setting an accomplished
Tevinter Altus loose in their midst could invite trouble.”
“Your concern for my wellbeing is endearing Commander but I would say that what
Templars you have need to get over it,” the necromancer said lightly. “They are
going to be surrounded by mage allies as long as this conflict drags on and at
some point they will need to get used to it. Like desensitizing a horse.”
A knock on the Commander’s office door caused them all to fall silent for a
moment. Then Garrett Hawke’s voice sounded from the other side. “I know you’re
talking shit in there Cullen, everyone else has already gathered in the
courtyard by the way!” The armor clad warrior strode to the door, opened it and
was instantly greeted by the big mage’s smiling scruffy face. “I wondered why
my esteemed partner hadn’t joined me for our demonstration yet. Don’t tell me
you’re letting them bully you into having cold feet,” the big mage teased as he
grinned over at Dorian.
The Altus huffed, though the corners of his lips tugged up all the same. “The
Commander believes that perhaps our demonstration should take place without me.
The big bad Tevinter mage is just too much for our feeble Templars apparently.”
“That’s a pretty big message you’d be sending to the bulk of your forces,”
Garrett said suddenly somber.
“We have you,” Cullen stated emphatically as he gestured at the hulking mage.
“You are the Champion of Kirkwall. People know who you are and respect your
title.”
“My primary school of magic is healing if you’ll remember?”
“You aren’t seriously going to try and pull that stunt again,” the blonde asked
in an exasperated tone.
“Enough,” Tara cut in. The petite rogue hopped down from the edge of Cullen’s
desk and moved to lay a calming hand on her general’s forearm. “Dorian will
assist Garrett during the demonstration. He won’t antagonize the Templars nor
will he use his necromancy, does that suit you both?”
“Am I allowed to at least sass the unruly masses,” the Tevinter mage asked as
he winked at his friend. The Inquisitor laughed as she moved to the door.
“Only in self-defense dear, I know how you get!”
With that out of the way the group exited the Commander’s office and descended
to the open court yard below. As they made their way down the stone stairway
Dorian’s eyes moved out over the collected throng of mages, soldiers and
Templars. Everyone looked tense beyond reason in his opinion and a cool sliver
of doubt crept into the pit of his stomach.
A hand at the small of his back made the Tevinter noble swivel his gaze back
around only to find the Champion leaning towards him. “I am glad that you will
be with me. The mages here need to see someone like you. Someone who grew up
without having fear of their own powers drilled into their head.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Dorian whispered back with a small smile.
“However the Commander is also right…my involvement could invite trouble. I am
not so naïve that I haven’t noticed the scowls cast my way already.”
Garrett said nothing though the phrase, ‘I will protect you,’ nearly escaped
his mouth without warning. He swallowed hard against the well of defensive
anger that had bloomed within him at Dorian’s words.
Then they were at ground level and moving to stand just behind the Inquisitor
and Cullen as the two addressed the crowd. The big mage felt his sister’s
presence as she moved to stand at his side, and noted the way Dorian’s eyes
briefly widened as he turned to look at the warrior woman. Garrett gave his big
sister a casual glance and saw that she was dressed in full Templar armor.
“Thought it might be a good move for them to see themselves reflected in us and
actually working together,” Marian breathed as Cullen laid out the ground rules
for the event. “I should have talked to you about it first, I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t faze me sister, I know you won’t smite me. Good thinking by the way,
I’m sure that the Commander will appreciate the move.” Marian harrumphed in
response as Cullen then turned to raise a hand towards them.
“We are facing down a creature that claims to be a god and who has allied
himself with demons, mages and Templars alike. The dangers we will face are
diverse so today it will be demonstrated for you what we will all be up
against, and how to handle yourselves. I leave it to you Champion.”
Garrett cleared his throat as he took a step forward. Talking had never really
been his thing…not to a crowd any way. “Good morning, thank you all for
coming…I er, I’m not very good at speeches so what say you all we just cut
right to it yes? The bulk of Corypheus’ horde is made up of demons this is true
but those numbers are heavily bolstered by Red Templars. These Templars possess
the same capabilities as ours do however they have traded their humanity for
the power that ingesting red lyrium grants them. Their attacks will be
relentless and are meant to sever the connection that mages have with the veil.
It is important to remember that just because you are unable to cast does not
mean that you are without the means to fight back. Sister?”
Marian moved forward and unsheathed her greatsword from its place at her back.
The edge was freshly honed and glimmered in the sunlight as she rolled the
pommel in her hands. Her brother nodded as he shifted his glaive down into his
hands. “No magic,” he said firmly. The next moment Dorian flinched as the
siblings raced headlong at one another and collided in a series of vicious
blows. Garrett’s pole work was lighting quick parrying most of his sister’s
strikes. Those he could not deflect he dodged. The crowd seemed to hold its
breath at every swing.
“Good,” the big mage said as they stepped apart neither sibling even breaking a
sweat. “The polearm is a very versatile weapon. It isn’t simply something to
channel magic. If you are a mage you cannot rely on your powers as your sole
line of protection or attack. The Venatori already know that and have been
trained as battlemages and arcane warriors since birth. If you are a Templar
and you smite one of them, they will continue their assault. And so must we.
Dorian if you would please?”
Garrett held out a welcoming hand to the Altus who nodded and strode forward to
stand in Marian’s vacated spot. “Do you have anything you would like to add?”
The grey eyed mage nodded and turned to face the throng.
“Blood magic,” he said without hesitation and swore he could hear Cullen
flinch. “You will face it, you will see it and you have to be ready to combat
it. Abhorring something is not enough, though I share the same sentiment as
what I gather many of you feel towards it. It is real and it is a tool that the
Venatori will use against us. For them it is merely another branch in the
schools of magic and will come to them as naturally as flames may come to you.
If you are lucky you shall in fact have a Templar beside you who can negate or
dispel their magic, if not it will be up to you to fight back with everything
you have. Mage on mage combat can be particularly brutal as I am sure many of
you already know, and as you are all about to see. Champion,” Dorian finished
with a respectful bow towards the other mage. “Watch my face,” he then added in
a teasing tone.
“Having a hard time doing anything else,” the bearded man whispered back an
instant before he struck. Dorian’s shield wavered under the onslaught of
Hawke’s force spell and he felt excitement spark in his very bones. It had been
a long while since he had been able to spar with another accomplished mage. The
Altus shoved back, dispersing his shield in a gust of flame that blew back the
remnants of Garrett’s own spell. The two men lunged at each other trading a
series of small spells as they focused on hand to hand combat.
The Ferelden healer was bigger, his blows ringing through Dorian’s arms as
their staffs met again and again. It was exhilarating. The Altus was far more
nimble however making Garrett chase him for every swing and then turning to
attack at the other man’s open side. One of his blows made it under the
healer’s guard and for a terrible instant Dorian watched as the bladed end of
his weapon carved towards the Champion’s calf. The sound of metal meeting rock
ground through his teeth as the massive mage’s body was abruptly covered in
armor made of stone.
Garrett winked down at the battlemage before dropping the armor and turning to
mind blast the other man back a few steps. The healer had the upper hand once
more and it was all Dorian could do to keep ahead of the strikes as they came.
Suddenly pride rallied through him, he needed to win this. He needed to prove
that he was just as capable as Garrett, that he was equally strong. He wanted
those who whispered at his back to see it.
The healer barreled at him and Dorian met the charge head on. Just as he and
Hawke were about to collide he dropped down to his knees and skidded beneath
the other mage’s blade coming to his feet at Garrett’s back. He hooked the
blunted curve of his blade around the healer’s ankle and gave a small tug
sending the giant careening into the earth.
As Garrett turned around he found the tip of Dorian’s polearm at his throat.
“Yield,” the Altus said stoically then a smile brought up the corners of his
lips and was answered by the big mage’s laugh as he held up his hands.
“I am clearly bested, I yield.” Dorian’s staff was instantly strapped back into
place as he bent to assist the other mage onto his feet. Behind them Cullen
took charge once more assigning the crowd to partner off for hand to hand
training. “You were fantastic,” Garrett said softly as he gave Dorian’s helping
hand a warm squeeze before letting go. “We should spar more often!”
“I’d be happy too…next time I shall remember to make a bet with you.”
“Oh? And just what shall we wager? You’re already getting a drink out of me.”
“Actually I believe it as I who asked you on our little…outing, so it shall be
I who will be procuring the beverages.”
“And just when did you want to go on this outing,” Garrett asked his smile
briefly faltering as he took note of Dorian’s intentional triteness. “I
mean…you know we do not have to if you do not…”
A firm set of ringed fingers squeezed over the big mage’s hand, silencing him
in an instant. The tanned man leaned in his grey eyes fixated on the healer’s
blue gaze. “Where I come from most people do not wish to be so forward about
their…telling you I would like to take you on a date is not something I would
be able to say in public back home. It was an old habit nothing more. I would
enjoy the opportunity to have a drink with you. Maybe later tonight even, if
you are free?”
Garrett’s eyes sparked as he answered Dorian’s squeeze by lightly lacing his
own fingers between the other man’s. “Yes please. I will see you at the
Herald’s Rest then?”
Dorian’s smile was radiant as he nodded up at the healer, “Tonight.”
 
“You have a what?!”
Garrett let out his breath in a long low sigh before speaking. “I said I have a
date. Tonight actually…which is why I wanted to come here alone,” he added with
a pointed look at the pair seated across from him.
Marian and Varric exchanged inquisitive looks that slowly bled into a set of
fox grins. “Wait…,” the warrior then said her eyes narrowing as she picked over
her brother. “It isn’t that glitzy mage…the one Varric calls Sparkler?”
“His real name is Dorian, and yes he is the man from our little exercise
earlier.” At that the eldest Hawke’s smile vanished and she sent her brother a
disapproving look.
“Little brother…”
“You know you never did call me that much after I outgrew you until Fenris left
me,” Garrett grumbled, bristling. “I don’t appreciate it Mar.”
“I’m looking out for you; Maker take it! You need someone around guarding your
heart!” Varric didn’t like where this conversation was leading. Both siblings
had been pulling long hours over the last few days and tired Hawke’s were
always pricklier than rested ones. The dwarf could read Garrett’s response
plainly in his angry muted gaze.
‘You’re one to talk Sis.’
Past his sister’s shoulder the hulking Ferelden suddenly caught sight of the
mage in question as he entered the tavern. Dorian’s stormy gaze wandered the
room briefly before meeting the big man’s causing a smile to light his handsome
face.
“This conversation is finished Mar,” Garrett said firmly as he rose from his
chair and strode towards the other mage. Marian instantly whirled in her chair
and once she spotted the dark haired man her brother was walking towards she
glared with enough intensity to kill.
“Easy Blue,” Varric said settling a hand on his friend’s arm, patting more and
more firmly until she finally turned back. “Your brother deserves a chance to
find happiness on his own terms.”
‘Maker knows you both deserve it after what happened.’
“He is far too flippant with his heart,” the warrior snapped.
“Hey now, is that you speaking for him or for yourself? Sparkler might not even
be after your brother’s heart!”
“For the love of the Maker’s tits, seriously Varric,” Marian said rolling her
eyes as she shook her head grinning faintly. “I just want to protect him from a
repeat performance.”
“I know, don’t you worry. We’ll keep an eye out for your brother but we don’t
want to keep him from potentially finding someone new or just having fun
right?”
“You are right Varric,” Marian sighed as she tossed her braid back over her
shoulder. “Come on. Let’s show these sods how to get drunk!”
 
 
 
“Um I do believe your sister just tried to murder me.” So much for witty and
tactfully delicious hellos, Dorian thought to himself as he took in the shocked
look on Garret Hawke’s face. The big mage turned his head back over his
shoulder but his sister’s gaze was already removed to the dwarf at her side. A
pity, he’d been practicing his own I set you ablaze glare for weeks, yet it
always seemed to land on his elder sibling’s back. Maddening.
“Don’t mind her, she’s just…”
“Protective?” The Tevinter native offered tentatively his own gaze holding a
degree of wariness in the wake of the other man’s unspoken irritation.
“I was going to say being an overly aggressive bitch of a big sister, but your
word sounds much nicer,” the big mage said with a tight smile.
“Should I…”
“Please, don’t even start in on how you play into my sister’s foul temper.
After Kirkwall erupted into war she somehow managed to get her head stuck in
her ass and it’s been like this ever since. It isn’t you specifically, please
allow me to apologize and let us have a pleasant evening?”
If he hadn’t been staring into Garrett’s eyes Dorian might have still excused
himself but there was something so incredibly…hopeful in the big man’s gaze
that he simply couldn’t leave.
“Alright, but if she attacks me I’m freezing her then making a hasty getaway to
my homeland before anyone even thinks of thawing her out.” At that Garrett
chuckled then motioned for Dorian to lead the way to their table.
The mage had taken the opportunity to use his connection to the Inquisitor to
procure a more private table on the second level of tavern for this occasion.
Considering the hostile nature of his date’s sibling who was also present,
Dorian silently patted himself on the back at his preparedness. The two men
settled in and a waiter appeared to take their orders.
“I’ll have wine, something sweet if you have it please,” Garrett said.
“I too shall have some wine, a cabernet if you please,” Dorian said handing the
waitress her payment and tip upfront. The young elven woman bobbed and quickly
retrieved their drinks then left the two men to their own devices. For a few
minutes they simply watched one another, taking a sip here and there as each
attempted to find some form of suitable conversation.
“So you would run to your homeland eh,” the Champion said awkwardly. “How did
you end up here? Titch bit cold for your style up this way.”
‘Ah of course he would ask the unknowingly loaded question first’, Dorian
thought as he took a bracingly larger gulp of his beverage. “I admittedly do
not agree with much of what goes on in my homeland or amongst the majority of
the other residents there. Hence why I am here, I am a proud pariah of the
Empire. Disowned by my family over a number of differences and displaced by an
unwillingness to simply bow to the current order there. So there’s that.”
Hawke blinked. “I can honestly say I’ve only ever met one other citizen from
the Imperium,” he said slowly. “I should add that you do not remind me of them
in the least.”
“I shall take that as a compliment…though…regarding blood magic…” The Tevinter
man sniffed and swirled his wine as he fought the unbidden thrum of fear that
trickled through him. “There are plenty of rumors about me, I would be shocked
if you hadn’t heard and while I have never actually used blood magic…I do know
a bit about the how of it all. I er, don’t know if that will be a problem for
you…”
Dorian had no idea what had possessed him to be so blunt and forthcoming with
the other mage, but there it was all on the table for judgement and not even
one full glass of wine to soften the blow. ‘Well done Pavus’, he mentally
berated himself, waiting for his pleasant time with the Champion to snap to a
close.
Again the big man blinked in the wake of Dorian’s honesty.
“You remind me someone I once knew…my sister would not be as receptive to such
knowledge but I have been studying the matter on my own time and really…it has
some good points. Not to say I myself would ever invest my talents into such a
practice but I can respect a man who owns his abilities.”
‘I think that I may be in love with how logical you are,’ Dorian thought
silently as he took another drink. “You’re incredibly grounded in that opinion.
Especially considering everything you went through in Kirkwall…uh, Varric might
have mentioned a tale or two about you and your sister before you ever
arrived.”
“Not to mention that those considered to have been part of the start of this
whole mess is hardly a well-kept secret,” Garrett added with a laugh.
“I suppose you are right about that,” Dorian said as he chuckled. Then the two
men lapsed back into another silence, each helplessly grinning at the other
over their glasses as they tried to think of something else to say.
“So, should we just skip right to the glorious inevitable naked rendezvous,”
the Tevinter mage abruptly asked sparking mischief in the healer’s eyes.
“By all means clear the table! I haven’t been touched in years,” Garrett said
as he stood up and acted as though he were about to sweep the table’s contents
to the floor. He waggled an eyebrow at the other mage causing him to laugh
heartily and drawing a few curious gazes from other nearby patrons. “On second
thought perhaps we should wait just a bit,” the big man then added with a wink,
“I’m not too keen on my sister seeing my small bits.”
“Oh my dear, if the rest of you is any indication your bits are anything but
small.” At that Garrett blushed and resumed his seat clearing his throat and
looking away, though he could not quite hide his smile.
“Maybe if you play your cards right you’ll find out one day,” Garrett said
attempting to sound coy.
Finally on the offensive side of the playful banter Dorian raised his hand and
motioned to a nearby waitress. “Another round please dear! As fast as you can
carry it and leave the bottles.”
 
 
She was drinking strong whiskey, she always did.
The red hued golden liquid passing between her ripe lips in waves, tongue
sliding against the seam to catch every last drop, it was intoxicating just to
watch. She still wore her armor and that was a shame. What did she look like
beneath Krem wondered as he took a drink of his ale eyes still quietly fixated
on Marian Hawke.
Varric was with her, which was good. Even here in the Herald’s Rest a man could
drink too much and press upon a woman…not that the fierce warrior wouldn’t have
something to say or do about it. Sometimes he allowed himself to fantasize what
he would do if someone were to try. He would never want her hurt or afraid of
course but to be her hero…His fists laying waste to some drunken sod. Her eyes
shining as her lips parted in a small awed gasp. Thank you, she would say her
words causing those lips to mimic the shape of the kiss they would share later…
“Go ask her to sit with us.”
Iron Bull’s voice made Krem nearly leap out of his own skin, an action that
caused the big Qunari to laugh loudly. “Krem de la Crème, you need to relax.
She’s human, she bleeds. She’s no untouchable goddess. Andraste’s tits I saw
you spank her while you two were sparring that one time and she didn’t slice
you in half…that’s a good sign! It’s practically her version of tossing out the
welcome mat!”
“Just because she didn’ finish me off then doesn’t mean she’s game for anythin’
Chief…,” Krem mumbled into his mostly empty mug.
“But it does mean she probably won’t say no if you invite her and Varric over
to share some company while they drink.” He had a point, sod it, the Qunari
always did. Krem settled into a silence as he weighed the dangers of inviting
Marian Hawke to drink with him and the rest of the already toasty Chargers. He
took too long and without warning Iron Bull shouted out, “Hey! Marian, Varric,
come sit with me and my boys!”
Marian turned in her seat her eyes meeting Krem’s stare, which he quickly
diverted to the bottom of his tankard.
“Why the hell should I drag my arse all the way across this bar just to sit
with you louts,” the warrior challenged even as she and the dwarf moved from
their seats.
“Because my Company possesses the only people in this tavern who can match you
drink for drink. And we’re damned good at singing!” The auburn haired woman
laughed at that her smile dazzling. Krem decided he needed a new drink and
stood up intent on moving to the bar.
“Where do you think you’re going Cremisius,” a sultry voice asked as a hand
came to fist itself in the side of his shirt halting his retreat.
“I’m out o’ ale,” he said lamely, his gaze briefly meeting Marian’s once more.
She snorted at him and released her hold.
“A man who doesn’t drink whiskey, Bull what kind of operation are you running
here?” That comment set Krem’s ears ablaze.
“I can hold my drink. I just don’ always like getting so drunk I can’t see
straight, unlike some,” he added with a pointed look at his commander.
“Well my cup is also empty. Perhaps you would accompany me to the bar? You
know, let me lean on you since I can’t see straight and all?” As Marian feigned
a hefty staggering swoon into Krem’s side, he instantly rethought his stance on
her armor. Just the smell of her brought his blood to boiling. He couldn’t have
imagined staying upright had she pressed her unarmored curves against him.
Tentatively Krem circled an arm around Marian’s waist and used his shoulder to
brace her back into a slumped but standing position. “If you’re really that bad
you should take a seat and I’ll bring you a drink.”
“Oh, would you?” She asked it sarcastically but the way she bat her eyelashes
at him made Krem’s heart pick up its speed. He immediately snatched her cup
from her hand and strode away before she could even blink.
“Well,” Marian said with a wide grin, “now that’s what I call service.”
The tall warrior and her dwarven companion both settled into their new seats,
nodding and laughing their greetings to the rest of Bull’s company. Listening
as Varric launched into one of his famed stories Marian Hawke cast her gaze
over her shoulder. It fell upon Krem’s back as he bent over the low counter
across the room trying to get the bartender’s attention. He was not wearing his
armor this night, which intrigued her. It wasn’t often that any of Bull’s
Chargers could be found without either their armor or their weapons, and Marian
found the lieutenant’s more casual side to be unexpectedly captivating.
“Are you ogling my man,” The Iron Bull teased as one of his massive shoulders
bumped against Marian’s own squared one. She cast the Qunari a look and rolled
her eyes. “I do not ogle anyone Bull. I have more important things on my mind
than a good romp these days. Like a good fight or how sharp my blade with be
after I put it to the stone come tomorrow.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Bull said with a shrug. “I think that you would find a
warm body in your bed far better company than steel.”
“Aren’t you the one I heard explicitly professing the more pointed benefits of
a blade possessing blood grooves to the Inquisitor the other day,” Marian shot
back.
“That he did,” a feminine voice said drawing the group’s collective glances.
Tara Trevelyan stood over the table, or would have from her place at the head,
had she possessed any height. Even seated, Iron Bull towered over the
Inquisition leader.
“Boss,” the Qunari rumbled pleasantly. “Come have a seat and a drink! Krem,
bring another ale for the Inquisitor!”
“Actually I was just coming to tell…” Before Tara could truly object Marian
herself grabbed ahold of the petite woman’s arm and all but threw her into the
chair shoved forward by Rocky.
“Don’t you dare bring business here at this hour,” the warrior said in a tone
that was somehow both threatening and joking. “I’m already dealing with my
brother being elsewhere in this establishment on a date…a date Tara, the first
honest interlude with another human being he has been a part of in years! Not
even you shall distract me from this!”
***** Hold Me Closer Giant Dancer *****
Chapter Summary
     Love, kisses and face grinding thanks to Hobbit69 for helping me
     fight my grammar demons.
Garrett did not know if it was the wine, the good conversation, or the
devilishly delicious natural slant of Dorian’s lips but Maker did he want to
kiss the other mage. The two had settled into discussing the differences in
their native homelands for the past few hours, each quietly delighted to be in
the company of another knowledgeable and non-judgmental soul. And somewhere
between the mutually disliked topic of slavery and the more tentative one of
blood magic, the second eldest Hawke had drifted from pointed dialogue to
staring at the other man’s moustache shadowed mouth.
Back when he had met Fenris, Hawke had been charismatic but shy and inept when
it came to matters of the heart and the body. His incompetence had not exactly
been bolstered by his skittish lover either, but now, sitting in the Herald’s
Rest with this practical stranger…Garrett wondered blearily in his head what
would happen if he were bold?
Not his forte by any means, but he liked this. This feeling of belonging that
he did not want to lose.
Maker take it; he was so tired of walking on eggshells and waiting in tense
silence to be allowed to feel or act upon his own feelings. He was a man who
had defeated a Qunari Arishok in single combat, faced down demons the likes of
which others could only dream…why was this such much more daunting?
“Garrett?”
“Hmm,” the big mage blinked and flushed slightly as he realized he had been
lost in his thoughts and completely checked out from the actual conversation he
had been having with the man across the table. Dorian smiled as he chuckled
warmly.
“I just asked you what color your undergarments were,” the cheeky Tevinter said
sarcastically with a wink.
“Oh! Well that’s an easy answer, I’m not wearing any,” the hulking mage threw
back with a devastating grin of his own. The fruits of his labor were immediate
in the answering blush that covered Dorian’s high cheekbones. “I rarely do,”
Hawke added with a wink.
“Fasta vass,” the other man whispered as he ran a hand back through his hair.
“I barely know you and here I am, tongue tied at the mere insinuation of you
without an article of clothing…I am not usually so easily distracted I’ll have
you know.”
“And I’ll have you know that I am not typically so readily flirtatious. Caution
is more honest to my nature but you…” Garrett fell silent. How did one tell a
relative stranger that they made them feel more comfortable in one conversation
than a former lover had managed in over a decade of courtship?
“I hope that I do not sound too odd in saying this,” Dorian then stated
quietly, his warm brown eyes fixated momentarily on the rim of his glass, “but
I find you to be...fine company indeed.”
‘Understatement of the century,’the Tevinter silently added as his gaze rose to
meet Garrett’s. There was something already between them that Dorian at least
found he could neither deny nor put to words. It terrified him as much as it
excited him.
“I also find you to be quite exquisite company,” Hawke said as his sent the
other man a small smile in return. The Tevinter matched his smile, a laughing
glint forming in his eyes.
“At least enough that you felt just fine staying here with me after the closing
hour,” he said then with a wink. At that Garrett blinked and cast his own gaze
out around the second floor of the tavern only to find it empty, and the moon
hanging high in the sky beyond one of the nearby windows.
“Should we go,” the big man asked abruptly standing from his chair, feeling
impolite towards the tavern’s employees and his date all in one moment.
“If you wish to,” Dorian said as he too slowly got to his feet, casting a
glance to the floor below. “Though I doubt that anyone working here is going to
mind our staying, the Inquisitor seems to also still be in the vicinity, along
with your sister and the ever present Chargers.”
“Oh,” the big man said moving to stand a bit closer to the railing to peer down
at the lower floor, consequently also drawing himself closer to the other mage.
Their renewed proximity allowed Dorian to inhale the deep musky male scent that
seemed to cling to the second eldest Hawke, it made him feel heady. There was
something clear cut about the smell. Like the sheer rock of the side of a cliff
face with just a hint of evergreen foliage clinging to its surface.
The Ferelden native turned to face Dorian and the small space between them
sizzled with energy. Garrett licked his lips, “I do not wish to see our night
end just yet,” he admitted softly.
“Nor do I,” the Tevinter native concurred. “We could always join the others
downstairs for a bit? I am going to eventually run into your sister and have to
introduce myself after all. I might as well do so readily. I’ll not allow her
to think me a coward on top of my being Tevinter.”
“Alright,” Garrett said, hoping he sounded more excited about the ensuing
meeting than he really felt.
 
 
The two men descended the stairs their respective wine bottles and glasses
dangling carelessly from their hands as they approached the full table. Varric
and Iron Bull saw them coming and waved in greeting. Marian on the other hand
was too preoccupied arm wrestling Rocky to note her brother’s entrance. Dorian
watched somewhat enthralled as the warrior woman let out a fearsome shout as
she slammed the thick muscled dwarf’s hand back down onto the tabletop. Cheers
sounded around the table as Marian stood cheering as she raised a fist in the
air triumphantly.
 Skinner leapt up and tossed the contents of her mug over the celebrating
warrior, who without missing a beat then ripped her now soaked chest plate free
and pointed at the other woman. “You want ta’ go, Skinner? Let’s do it! Put up
your coin boys, I could always use more in my purse!” Though she shouted loud
enough to rattle the rafters Marian’s tone was light hearted and friendly.
Further proof was provided when she slapped hands with the now laughing elven
woman before reclaiming her seat.
“Maker, Marian,” the Inquisitor said with a flushed laugh, “you’ve got a sound
arm that’s for sure! Perhaps I should replace Iron Bull with you when I go out
on rift patrols?”
“Hey now, Boss, let’s not get carried away,” Bull said with a chuckle.
"My sister is strong, but she is still no Qunari, Inquisitor.” Tara turned in
her chair and welcomed both mages with a wide warm smile.
“Garrett! Dorian,” she cried as she stood up and rushed to hug the Tevinter.
“How was your date,” she asked without reserve.
“Oh yes,” Marian then added, all but throwing her own chair aside as she too
turned to face the duo, “That.” The tall woman strode over to stand before
Dorian. Her eyes were no longer laughing and her lips pressed into a firm line.
Facing her was like facing a statue of some long-ago female general. Her eyes
bore into his unamused and definitely unimpressed. She stuck out her hand
towards him and dryly stated, “Marian Hawke, Garrett’s big sister, and the one
you’ll find yourself answering to if you do anything to…”
“Yes, yes, you’ll tear his man-bits off an’ all that, your love for your
brother is certainly the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” Tara interjected
as she rolled her eyes and struck a hand towards the now slightly amused
Tevinter. “Marian this is my good friend, Dorian Pavus.”
Dorian did not know if he should kiss the Inquisitor and profess his gratitude,
or use her as a human shield so he could leave before Garrett’s sister ripped
him inside out.
“Hm,” the warrior huffed, “a friend of Tara’s? Alright then, it is…nice to meet
you Pavus.”
“Please, my dear lady, if we are to become acquainted, call me Dorian?”
“Very well…you like wine, Dorian,” Marian then asked eyeing the bottle in his
hand with a form of contempt that he could not comprehend. Before he could
answer the warrior shot her brother a look then motioned for them all to rejoin
the table.
Two more chairs were pulled up and soon everyone was back to chatting and
clanking mugs over old stories.
At some point Dorian’s wine was replaced with a much stronger spiced whiskey,
whether it had been the courtesy of Garrett’s sister or Iron Bull he could not
say, but by the time the next hour rolled past the Tevinter was well and drunk.
Seated at his right, Garrett Hawke had also run out of wine and turned to what
smelled like sweet rum. The big man rumbled with shameless laughter the timbre
of which shook the walls when it synchronized with Iron Bull’s, reverberating
pleasantly in Dorian’s own chest.
During one of Iron Bull’s many tales of the evening, Dorian started as he felt
a hand upon his thigh just above his knee. Large and warm the hand squeezed
causing the Tevinter mage’s gaze to swivel up to collide with Garrett’s heavy
lidded one. One corner of the healer’s mouth turned up and he winked before
moving his own gaze back to Iron Bull as the mercenary moved into the climax of
his tale.
The hand that remained on Dorian’s thigh held the necromancer’s attention as
though he were chained to it. Questions rose up through the grey eyed man’s
pleasant alcohol induced haze. Was this a signal from Hawke? In Tevinter it
would have been, a clear message that they would be leaving soon to…was that
what Garrett intended? They had not spoken about it, but when had he ever
planned out an itinerary with a paramour?
Not that the idea of having sex with the Ferelden mage was unappealing.
He just did not want it to end.
The rich conversation, watching as Hawke threw his head back and laughed at one
of his jokes, the familiarity. In Tevinter once the tryst had concluded those
involved usually parted ways and never looked back. Was that what was about to
happen between him and Hawke?
Dalish yawned loudly following the finale of Bull’s story and proclaimed that
she was good and ripe for bed. The others at the table al nodded their
agreement and began to say their farewells before shuffling off to their
respective sleeping arrangements.
When Dorian stood to go, he found the world swaying beneath his feet. A strong
arm wrapped around his waist to keep him upright and when he looked up he found
Garrett smiling down at him.
“I can assist you to your rooms,” the big man slurred warmly.
“What about your sister,” the Tevinter asked, his eyes wandering over to where
Marian stood reclaiming her armor.
“Varric, you’ll see to my sister,” Garrett then asked the dwarven man. Varric
shrugged at his old friend with an apologetic look on his face as he assisted
the half-awake Inquisitor to her feet.
“I’m sorry Hawke but someone needs to see to Tara and she came here alone.”
“I can walk her,” a familiar voice said softly. The big mage turned his gaze
over to find Iron Bull’s Lieutenant behind him.
“I’d appreciate that Krem,” Garrett said with a thankful grin. With an
answering nod Cremisius sidestepped the two mages and made his way over to
Marian. The tall woman had just pulled her breastplate back into order when he
appeared at her side.
“Cremisius,” Marian said, her voice a touch more airy than it normally was. She
smiled at him. It was a real smile, one without any hint of the warrior’s usual
vinegar in her gaze.
“I ca…I can walk you back to your room,” he told her, silently thanking the
Maker that his face was already red from the alcohol he had consumed.
“That’s okay…you sleep here…I’d feel awful if you walked me to the Keep then
had to turn around and come all the way back here…”
“Really,” Krem said stepping up to the tall woman’s side and placing a hand at
her waist before he could stop himself, “it’s no trouble Marian.”
“I can jus’ walk back with my brother…oh…” The eldest Hawke sought out her
brother and found his familiar form just as he passed through the door of the
tavern with Dorian slumped against his side. Krem worried for a moment that the
warrior woman was going to go after the two men, but something unexpectedly
softened in her gaze and a tentative smile brought up one corner of her mouth
as she breathed softly, “Oh. Maybe…maybe you could walk with me,” she said then
surprising the Lieutenant. Cremisius reached out to place a steadying hand at
the small of the warrior woman’s back and gently ushered her towards the door.
 
 
 
“Which room is yours?”
Dorian had to think quite a lot harder about Garrett’s question than he’d
anticipated.
“It is located just off the library…but kaffas that is a lot of stairs to
manage at the present.” At that the big mage chuckled.
“Then I suppose you’ll just have to sleep with me,” the Ferelden native rumbled
as he steered his fellow mage towards another door. The Tevinter mage blushed
as his uncertainty regarding the healer’s intentions from earlier resurfaced in
his mind.
Shortly after he had made his suggestion of sleeping together, it struck Garret
that the other mage might be thinking that he meant something more than what he
had said. He knew that he needed to clarify his statement. By the time his
alcohol muddled mind had formed this thought, the two had arrived outside his
bedroom. There, Garrett paused and fumbled to turn the shorter man around so
that he was looking Dorian in the eyes. The fact that he had also trapped the
smaller mage between the hallway wall and his body did not occur to him.
“Dorian,” the healer said trying to focus.
“Yes, Garrett?”
The big mage had a whole speech prepared about how one-night-stands were not
his thing. But somehow that was forgotten when he looked down into the other
man’s eyes. The shocking thought that he could get lost in those smoky orbs for
the rest of his life crowed out everything else. Words failed him so the big
mage moved instead.
Large calloused hands settled on either side of Dorian’s face, holding him
still as Garrett’s lips descended. The kiss was soft and only curiously plying.
It was a drastic shift from the desperate heated sloppy affairs that the
Tevinter was used to and he shuddered in reaction to it. In his drunken state
Dorian was more inclined to call it tender in its execution. The kind of kiss
one would imagine two long time lovers sharing at the end of the day. It stole
his breath and left him feeling dizzy when the larger man pulled away.
“Come on.”
The big mage opened the door to his chambers and waved a hand out before him as
he strode forward, causing the lamps in the room to flare to life along with
the fireplace located along the far wall. Dorian glanced around the room his
gaze coming to rest on the rather large bed seated beneath a set of high
windows. Garrett had moved to stand at the foot of the huge piece of furniture
and cast an inquisitive glance back over one thick shoulder.
The Altus knew what that meant.
Oh well. Might as well make it good, Dorian thought to himself as he slowly
began undoing the clasps and laces of his shirt. In an instant the heavy lidded
eyes of the healer widened slightly, his lips parting wordlessly as the battle
mage hooked his fingers under the edge of his shirt then removed it in one
smooth pull. He held Garrett’s gaze as he tossed aside the garment before
moving his hands to the belt around his waist.
“Um…do you need anything to sleep in?”
Dorian froze.
Garrett sounded like he had just swallowed several lemons and a mouse and his
face was bright red. The Tevinter man cocked his head to one side and cleared
his throat.
"I usually sleep in the nude after…but I would gladly take a pair of fresh
pants…though I’ll admit that I find myself in doubt that your clothing will fit
me…I am sorry,” the grey eyed man said shaking his head, “I have never had this
reaction to my undressing before.”
“I er…I just wasn’t expecting you to take off your clothes…I guess it just
didn’t occur to me that you would want to sleep in the nude with me. Which
isn’t a problem,” the healer said in a rush, “I just…you’re…I’m fucking this up
aren’t I?”
Dorian stared at the big man blinking. “We…you intend for us to have sex
right?”
“Sex,” the big man squeaked then abruptly realized that he never had given
Dorian any indication that anything other than thatwas going to transpire.
“It is the dead of night, I am already mostly naked, definitely drunk and in
your personal chambers with you alone! What did you think we were going to be
doing?”
Garrett blinked before smiling sheepishly, “Cuddle?”
“You’re serious?”
The big mage nodded then cleared his throat. “So…sleeping pants?”
At that Dorian laughed shaking his head as the tension bled from his body.
“I too generally sleep in the nude,” Garrett quipped as he saw his companion
relaxing back to how he had been earlier in the evening. “However, I imagine it
would be a tad bit harder to keep my word about just sleeping, maybe cuddling,
if we were to both wind up naked in my bed. If you’d be more comfortable
without any clothes, feel free. I on the other hand am going to find a pair of
loose pants.” With that the big man walked to the chest at the foot of his bed
and began rummaging around leaving Dorian to shed the rest of his clothing in
relative privacy.
“Close enough?” the big man asked with a raised eyebrow as he held up a pair of
cotton drawers that were fairly snug on him.
“Might as well try them, I do not wish to tempt you too rigorously,” the
Tevinter said with a wink as he stood shamelessly in his smallclothes before
Garrett. The hulking mage tossed the set of pants to the other man, allowing
his blue gaze to linger appreciatively on the necromancer’s mostly exposed
body.
“Please, go easy on me Dorian,” Garrett said with as he turned back to fetch
himself a set of pants. As the Tevinter mage pulled on the only slightly too
large garment he suddenly noted that Garrett was stripping out of his own
pants. Dorian could not help but stare, catching a brief glimpse of some very
tempting flesh before the Ferelden pulled on his fresh set of drawers.
Then the Champion turned and motioned to the bed, “Shall we?” Both men moved to
climb beneath the covers of the bed and shifted about until each had settled
into the mass of pillows Garrett kept against his headboard. After a few
minutes had passed in a somewhat awkward silence the big mage moved his hand
and snuffed out all but the light of the merrily crackling fire. Dorian had no
idea what to do then. He had never shared a bed with a man who had not first
had him face down in the bedspread. The thought of Garrett’s earlier promise of
snuggling wove its way through the Tevinter man’s still alcohol fuzzed mind and
shyly Dorian turned his head to face the other man.
“I thought you said you intended to cuddle me,” he teased softly, only able to
see half of the other mage’s face in the overhead beam of moonlight. A glint of
a smile shot out from the shadow passing over Garrett’s face as the big man
turned over onto his side. He looped an arm around Dorian’s waist and hauled
the shorter mage up against his chest nuzzling his beard roughened face into
the crook of the other mage’s neck.
“I didn’t want to force you…” the big man said softly against Dorian’s ear, and
the shorter man shivered at his words. Garrett then placed a gentle kiss
against the other man’s neck before whispering, “Good night, Dorian.”
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