fantachetic | open post;;

[ It's rather unexpected, but not unwanted. The returned invitation is taken with a grain of salt, and any chance at helping to reform his homeland and make them seem less like a savage land full of Maleficar needs to be taken. After what happened the last time he was in Denerim? Dorian rather hopes there will be a bit less legwork. Who better to represent his homeland than a former member of the Inquisition the king wanted to disband, right? He has to remind himself not to get smart with a king, but Maker help him, he might not be able to resist. The way Alastair banished the mages from Redcliffe didn't do him any favors in Dorian's mind.

If that's how he was with a small group of mages? He can only imagine what an entire country ruled by mages will go.

His visit to Denerim the first time wasn't as big of a deal since he was merely an ambassador to Tevinter, there were far bigger names than his own there. The Inquisitor tended to steal the spotlight on most occasions. Who could blame them? This time, it's different. This could make or break relations between the Imperium and Fereldan should their talks sour. When Dorian is finally brought before the King, he offers a bow. Of course he can do pleasantries, he's a Pavus. ]

Your Highness, it's an honor.

[Denerim was a far cry from Minrathous or Qarinus. It was colder, for one. Darker. The streets were narrow, the buildings casting shadows over the ground. There was a perpetual smell of dog and likely worse. In some places, damage from the Darkspawn Horde was still visible, but every one of those places had scaffolding nearby, proving that Ferelden was rebuilding.

Perhaps surprisingly, one of the first places that had been rebuilt was the Alienage. It was easy to see even in passing, as the most common entrance to the city was through the market, and just off the market was the gate. To the other way, though, was the palace. A respectable structure - at least by Fereldan standards - mostly stone, and some small amount of wattle and daub. Much of it was closed off due to damage, and the king himself deciding money was better spent rebuilding elsewhere than the castle. A home for one man was strongly outweighed by homes for the people.

And now, tempers had eased with the Inquisition disbanded. Enough so that his missive to Tevinter wasn't looked at so askance. Even now, Ferelden wasn't in the greatest position. As a nation, there was a sort of peace with Orlais that was ever and always tentative, and the waves being made by one magister in particular had been seen with appraising eyes. If he couldn't be allied with Orlais, perhaps something else could be arranged. That was how he saw his guest, and how he greeted him - with a hopeful smile and grateful nod - followed by an extended hand.]

Magister Pavus. I have to admit, I rather thought you'd tell us where to jump instead of coming, but I'm glad to see you here. I've been looking forward to this meeting.

What, and miss all the southern charm? Perish the thought. Were it anyone else in the Magisterium, that may have been the case, but here I am.

[ Dorian had almost forgotten the distinct smell of dog that the south seemed to harbor almost constantly.He can't fault the city for its various states of disrepair, since Skyhold seemed to be in much the same state at any given time. It may have been repaired for now by all he knew, but he doubted it. There are always more important things to worry about-- unless you happen to be in Tevinter where appearances are everything. He takes Alastair's hand and gives it a firm shake. It takes him by surprise when the hand is offered given the last time he saw the King, it was a less than positive interaction. Not that they'd spoken a word to one another. ]

I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised by your invitation- and your looking forward to it. I anticipated it may be like pulling teeth. [ As most politics tend to be, of course. ]

I'll try to make it less torturous than that.

[Alistair gave him a smile, then motioned him inward. Not that the throne room was horrible, but it was... public. And while he hadn't made a secret of speaking with a Tevinter representative, he wanted them to be on firm footing before the public knew more of what talks would entail.]

I'll be honeset, ser. There are only two magisters in all of Tevinter I would've invited here, and I would have invited you both, but I feared for your Lucerni movement if both of you were to come. Who knows what they would've pushed through as legislation if both of you were absent. You see - I have been watching.

[The hallways were clean and nicely lit, grey stone stacked upon grey stone until he brought them to an open doorway. Beyond it was, very obviously, the royal library. Shelves and shelves of books, a great table dominating the center of the room, a fireplace and multiple sconces keeping everything both well-lit and warm.]

And I'm glad for what I see. The Tevinter you're trying to build is a Tevinter I want to have ties to.

So far, the bar has been set rather high.

[ Dorian falls into step a few paces behind Alistair, surveying the hallways as they walk. Not much adorns the walls, though of course Ferelden isn't going to be quite as flashy as Tevinter or even Orlais. With good reason. The library, though, he can certainly appreciate. It's much easier to feel welcome when surrounded by books, though he will have to judge its greatness by the collected works. Less magic-related and more historical in nature, he's willing to wager. The warmth starts to sink in the moment they enter, and it's a far cry better than it had been outside. ]

A wise decision. I've no doubt in my mind that the Magisterium has gathered quite a collection should the occasion arise. [ He sighs, nodding his head. ]

I appreciate the sentiment. It's a shame more of my countrymen don't feel quite the same.

I've noticed - and it truly is a shame.

[He walked over to the hearth and lifted a carafe of wine to show, and then to pour. The liquid was a rich red-violet, mulled with cherries and apple, and spiced to contrast the weather. He brought both glasses with him back to the table at the center of the room.]

This may be shocking to you, but I'm actually at a great divide in my own kingdom. Until the incident at Redcliffe, the people liked me. The nobles, not so much. We're a Chantry-fearing nation, and the fact that I gave the mages their leeway and continue to follow the Inquisition's directives on mage freedom has left my rule... precarious. Many of my citizens want the mages to be under the Circle's care once more. I... want to show them that mages are people.

[And who better for this than a Tevinter magister? He'd seemed to think so.]

[ Dorian takes the offered glass and sits at the table, legs crossed as he gets comfortable. They'll be here for quite some time, he imagines. The wine smells sweet, though there is still the hint of bitterness beneath and it pairs well with the spices. ]

I can't imagine it did you any favors kicking the mages out of Redcliffe for something quite beyond their control. People tend to be afraid of what they can't understand.

[ The Circles had their pros and cons, though Dorian was solidly opposed. While lots of mages didn't get the luxury of mage schools like those in Tevinter, perhaps that is something that can change. Vivienne's college of magic seems to be a decent enough start, though they still don't see eye to eye as far as magical jurisdiction. ]

There have been some notable steps, but the Chantry doesn't do the mages any favors. Did you know, your Grace, that the Templars you have in the South are vastly different from those in Tevinter? Back home, they serve the Circle of Magi, enforcing Imperial law. Of course, the term 'enforcing' is used rather loosely. There are many things that I intend to change, but there does need to be a balance between the two. The mage-hunting they do in the South does little for the beliefs of your people. It only encourages the continued stereotypes.

Believe me, I'm aware. Redcliffe, the differences in Tevinter and here...

[He sighed heavily as he lifted his glass, watching the play of firelight through the glass before he sat. This entire matter was one he was taking seriously, and it showed. His shoulders weren't sloped, but the weight that rested on them was nearly visible.]

You're right. There must be a balance. Even when I was in Templar training, I never saw mages as anything but people. The rules about their existence then made no sense to me. You can't keep people hemmed in forever, and I think the incident at Kirkwall - which is putting it lightly - is an example of what happens when you try. Even when I was young and in the monastery, I caused no end of trouble because of the strictures they laid on me. I can't guarantee I wouldn't have blown the place up eventually if I'd had the ability.

[But then, with a sigh, he placed his glass aside and leaned forward, closer to Dorian, to drive his point home.]

That's why I asked for you. Please, serah - work with me to find this balance, and I'll do the same with you. Together, with the Maker's providence, we can start to make Thedas the place it should be.

[The Inquisitor - as he later learned she was - had made an aside that he and Dorian should meet. Gene isn't in a terrible hurry to acquaint himself with an Altus, but Skyhold is only so large. He is set on availing himself of the library, which is considerably more substantial than any he's seen outside Weisshaupt. He's got his nose in a book when he rounds the corner into Dorian's little alcove, and when he realizes it's not the empty place he was expecting, he looks up.

He doesn't have the kneejerk grimace of distaste that one might assume is the Soporati trademark, but then Gene has been a Warden now for some five years, and was never one to grovel. Speaking will give away his (very) faint accent, and by all accounts Dorian is as sharp as he is acerbic. He considers leaving it at a nod, and yet--]

Apologies. I wasn't intending to intrude.

[ People generally tend to leave him to his business, particularly in the library. He's given a wider berth than most in Skyhold, though some in the Inquisition's Inner Circle have warmed up to him as time has gone by, and the Inquisitor is his best and only friend by his own admission. She's been entirely more accepting of him and his presence than most, and he adores her dearly. Occasionally, she visits him in the library to ask him questions of his homeland or to enjoy his company, but for the most part, it remains quiet save for the sound of Leliana's crows.

He notices someone enter his alcove out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't tear his attention away from his book immediately, opting to finish the sentence. As Dorian looks up, he arches an eyebrow at the intruder. Not someone he recognizes, but Skyhold is filled with visiting dignitaries and people looking to join the cause. The accent catches his attention, though it's faint. Perhaps trained away or enough time immersed somewhere else. ]

It's difficult to find a decent place to read undisturbed. [ Not that he's implying that this man is disturbing him. Perhaps he'll take it that way, anyway. ]

[ It's only been a year since his departure from the Inquisition, though it feels much longer than that. So much has happened in a short time span that it makes his head spin. He had only been home a month before he had to set out for Halamshiral, and honestly, a month hadn't nearly been enough time to process everything or even make arrangements. He should have communication from home in his room when he gets back to it so he can continue to get everything in order. There are several different emotions at war with him, but mostly, he's exhausted.

He hates traveling, hates the circumstances, and hates feeling like he's on the edge of something, about to teeter forward.

Dorian feels more settled now, having had a bit of rest and a change of clothes. His armor is on, though in less of a battle sense and more a diplomatic one. The familiar masks are up, and nothing is out of place. He feels a little more whole, but of course there's something missing, has been for a year, though he's loathe to admit it. Admittance of the fact makes him seem needy. He's almost willing to concede the matter.

Of course the rest of the Inquisition's Inner Circle would arrive- it was only common sense that they would, but it was something that Dorian still found himself caught unawares by. Actually seeing the Chargers make themselves at home in front of the closest pub makes his heart swell and hurt all in the same instance. It had been an entire year without his better, much larger half, and simply seeing him makes butterflies rise in his gut. ]

[ Bull couldn't really say Halamshiral was a place of comfort for him, but it had a tavern, and that was something. The last year had gone by both quickly and painfully slowly after the defeat of Corypheus. He'd kept the Chargers busy, of course, but it had been more about keeping himself busy than anything productive. He hadn't expected anything beyond a steady paycheck after the Qun had banished him, but what he'd found at Skyhold mean more to him than anything else in the world...and it'd been gone for a year.

Only it wasn't. He wrote when he could, which had been twice but it counted, but it had been over a year since he'd heard Dorian's voice and he wasn't sure he could take much more of it. He almost thought that would be better, even though with every repeated reading of those two letters, he heard the mage's deep and smooth tones accentuating every word, if he could just hear his voice again.

When they arrived, Bull made his way to the tavern first, grabbing a mug of ale and listening to what was what around the place. Lots of whispered intentions, flurries of activity, a Tevinter ambassador? That was something he never thought he'd hear. Tevinter didn't have allies. When more of the talk turned to less-than-idle gossip about how attractive this foreign ambassador may be, the hopeful anticipation that rose in his gut was too much to keep him inside so he finished off his mug quickly and saw himself out.

And stopped in his tracks. The armor was different, new and probably ceremonial, and Dorian was nervous (why wouldn't he be?), but looked well, safe, whole. He took a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding, and the giant was to him and wrapping his arms around the mage in two strides. ]

Dorian, you were being sent to Halamshiral but you couldn't write?

[ It was a big hug. Not sorry. ]

[ Of course there's no stopping Bull once he's gotten his mind set to something, though Dorian doesn't have a mind to even consider it. Bull's arms wrap around him and he feels at ease. The air wheezes out of him in an aborted laugh, and his arms wrap around Bull's neck. It doesn't matter that they're out in the open for the moment- it's simply them reuniting after too far apart. ]

I apologize, being home was a bit more chaotic than I anticipated. I was only home for about a month before I was sent.

[ Maker it felt good to be able to run his hands over Bull's skin again. ]

[ Though Dorian had responded, the Bull doesn't make any motion to move, and doesn't really seem to are about how might be watching. ]

Yeah...? I'm just glad you're okay. And Ambassador, huh? Does that mean I'll be seeing more of you?

I'm quite all right, you overgrown sap. [ Says the fop who has yet to let go. ]

Unfortunately, no. [ He sighs, weary. ] The Ambassadorship was a position given to me by my father- to act as liaison for Tevinter during the summit. It was little more than a position to get me out of the way.

Out of the way of what?

[ A small chilled knot was forming in the pit of his stomach but he was choosing to ignore it. ]

Assassination, I presume. My father was attempting to push through a bit of unpopular legislation.

[ He does let go of Bull, shifting with a bit of unease. ]

[ There was a big thing Dorian wasn't saying and that cold knot was just getting bigger and bigger. Whatever it was, it was bad, and he didn't want to tell Bull about it. ]

Since you're a fancy Ambassador now, they gave you a room right? With a door?

[ Dorian's expression grows fond, eyes sparkling with mischief. Well, he couldn't say no to Bull for numerous reasons. ]

Of course they did. It's a bit too Orlesian for my taste, but it's a bed on solid ground, and the curtains do well against the sun.

[ Bull would be lying if he said part of the reason he wanted to get Dorian alone was to have him, but he also wanted to know what Dorian was hiding. ]

Well, what are you waiting for?

[ Oh, Dorian has every intention of bedding him, it's been far too long, and he really needs to be close to Bull right now. He's the only one capable of making him feel like he isn't drowning.

With an arched brow, Dorian turns and sashays toward the room he's been given. Enjoy the view from back there, Bull. ]

[ At times, sex between the two of them was sharp and desperate, but this time it was something...more, and yet less about the need for climax and more about the need for closeness. It lasted well into the afternoon, and Bull made no motion to leave once they were both spent.

He enjoyed the closeness, an arm casually wrapped around Dorian, holding him against his side, and looking around the room, at least as much as he could from the angle. ]

Damn, you're right. It's really Orlesian.

[ Every time he's with Bull, it's like a breath of fresh air. Every interlude holds a different meaning. There's no rush, no pressing need to be anywhere today- people far more important are still arriving. It's a slow, needful thing, and every kiss, every touch helps keep him surfaced from the chaos.

Afterward, caught between the bone-deep fatigue and the sated bliss, Dorian stays nestled against Bull's side, his hand on his heart. He rolls his eyes and utters a groan. ]

Repugnant, isn't it?

It's not horrible. I've seen worse.

[ He'd seen a lot worse. Hell, most brothels were gaudy on purpose. Still, he couldn't shake the bad feeling he'd had since earlier, when he'd mentioned the Ambassadorship, and he reached over, wrapping his large fingers around the hand Dorian had left on his chest. ]

You're not coming back after the summit, are you.

[ It was a confirmation more than a question. ]

[ ...Ah. There it was. Of course Bull would figure it out, despite how much he wanted to simply have this until he had to face reality once again. He stays silent for a long moment, fingers curling around Bull's much larger ones before he sighs, weary. ]

I'm afraid not. I was going to wait to discuss it until after, but you've rather beaten me to it..

[ He says discuss, but he knows what he has to do. It's unfair to continue to do this to Bull. ]

[ He nodded slightly at the news, not altogether unexpected. Dorian had dreams of redeeming Tevinter, after all, and it was a little difficult to do something like that when you weren't there. It was dangerous, of course, but the solution was pretty clear. ]

So, after the summit, how soon do we leave?

[ He loves his country so deeply, it deserves to be better than what its become. Now, he has the position that he needs to truly cause change. His yelling on the floor will actually garner traction. Dorian can't not take the seat that he's been given. Still, all of that seems so far away when there's still so much he needs to do in his personal life.

Dorian jolts upward to look at Bull, confused. ]

I'm sorry, what? I-- Bull. You realize that asking you to come to Tevinter is suicide, right?

You know I've been to Tevinter before, right?

[ Okay so it was undercover, and it was in secret, and he never really went to the really fancy places. ]

Besides, it sounds like you going to Tevinter is, too.

[ He shakes his head, expression firm. ]

I can't ask that of you. Besides, there are still things I've yet to take care of. [ Like trying to get his mother to see reason. ]

[He didn't make a move to leave or anything. They'd work this out like they did everything else. He was confident in that fact.]

You didn't ask.

Bull. You can't be away from your men for that long. [ He really doesn't want Bull to forsake his family just for him. ]

It's.. probably for the best that we stop this. [ Maker, it's like a knife to the heart as he says it, but his voice is surprisingly even. ]

[Well, there it was.]

No.

[He hadn't felt this happy or good in a long time. He wasn't sure anyone had ever made him feel the way Dorian did before, or would again. He didn't want anyone else. How could he even-]

I can't.

[ He sits up, moving his legs off the bed. Mostly to avoid looking at Bull. He doesn't want to give in, despite how desperate he is for all of this to work. It's not fair to either of them, is it? Bull shouldn't be tied down by some Magister he doesn't get to see because his career is too important. ]

I...see.

[Bull sat up as well, but faced Dorian's back if he was going to be that way.]

You think I'm going to let a few asshole Magisters come between us?

You would be the target more than I would. [ He shakes his head. ] I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were hurt because of my position.

I'm a big boy, Dorian, I can take care of myself.

[He takes a breath.]

You're my Kadan. Tell me what that means.

I know that, Amatus, but--

[ He sighs, fingers gripping the edge of the bed. ]

You said it means 'my heart'.

Yep.

[And he moved to the side of the bed and wrapped the silly little mage up in his arms.]

You ever known a guy to live without that?

No..

[ He lets himself be wrapped up in Bull's strong arms, turning his head so he can bury his face in his shoulder. ]

I'm just.. not certain how we're going to do this.

I don't know. We'll figure it out, but...I don't care how far you are. You'll always be my Kadan.

[He kissed the hair atop Dorian's head.]

And if you need me, I'm there.

I'll always need you, you daft man.

[ Dorian affectionately headbutts his shoulder. ]

Perhaps a bit too much at times.

[He chuckles.]

Yeah, I know, so stop acting like you've got to make this huuuge sacrifice for everyone's good. It's bullshit.

[ The long-suffering sigh of a spouse admitting they're wrong. ]

I suppose you're right...

Dorian...I know what you're doing. It's noble...kinda hot. If anybody can make a difference, it's you.

[He moved a large hand to Dorian's shoulder, still holding him, but giving it a gentle squeeze.]

Shit, you helped save the world. Isn't that where Tevinter wants to be? That important? Who better to show them they can do it without being dicks than you?

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