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“Here you had just convinced me that not all Qunari are bloodthirsty brutes whose only ambition is conquering, but now you tell me that you want to fight a dragon.”
“I’m better at fighting than dancing.”
“Which is precisely why you should be practicing dances instead.”
“Krem laughed at me. He tried not to, but he said that I would ‘make an impression.’ I don’t think he meant it in a good way.”
“Yes, you see? If Cremisius, one of The Iron Bull’s mercenaries, finds your dancing skills to be laughable, then the Orlesians will eat you alive once you’re on the dance floor.”
“But it’s dangerous for the village. And it’s in the way of a rift that I need to close. And I should practice for slaying Corypheus’s dragon. Bull thought it was a good idea.”
“Ah, of course. So this isn’t a Qunari trait, but rather that of the Tal-Vashoth. How foolish of me,” Dorian replied with a roll of his eyes as his chin rested on Kaaras’s chest. Kaaras was frowning pensively as he carted one hand through Dorian’s hair, the other resting on the mage’s back.
“I want to help him,” Kaaras replied, and Dorian sighed.
“Yes, of course you do. I believe that is already the unofficial motto of the Inquisition. ‘We are large and powerful. Let us give you blankets and peace of mind.’”
“Food too, sometimes.”
“How could I be so negligent? Of course we cannot ignore the slaughtered rams that have paved the way for the Inquisition’s rise to power. So, my dear Inquisitor, how is it that slaying a dragon will help to improve the morale of Skyhold’s second-most notable Tal-Vashoth?” Dorian asked, and Kaaras stared up at the canopy.
“I couldn’t live under the Qun, but he could—No, don’t look at me like that. Just listen. He could live under the Qun. He did, but luckily he can live outside of it too. That’s rare,” Kaaras explained, and Dorian tried not to cringe when he remembered the man’s story of his escape. “He doesn’t need me to feel guilty, and I don’t, not really. But I think it would be good to remind him that he’s made a life for himself out here too.”
“And you believe that an ill-timed dragon-slaying mission will remind him of that,” Dorian replied, and Kaaras nodded.
“We have enough time to make it to Crestwood and back before we need to leave for Halamshiral.”
“Time which would be much better-suited in lessons with Josephine and Leliana.”
“What if I can get the dances down before we leave? And then I can keep memorizing everything else on the road.”
“Amatus, there are a hundred ways to insult someone simply based on where your eyes are when you’re talking to someone at this sort of thing. Without Josephine’s help, you may end up causing another war, rather than preventing one.”
“You can teach me.”
“So you expect that I will be accompanying you on this dragon hunt?”
“If you’d rather not, then I can ask someone else.”
“Oh? Who, Vivienne and her front-loaded barriers? Or Solas who catches his own coat on fire in every other fight?”
“Probably Cassandra, actually.”
“Oh, well there’s an idea! Let’s just run off to fight a dragon and hope that banging our chests work because your barriers certainly won’t hold for long, and then you can simply glare Orlais into submission.”
“Does that mean you’ll come, then?”
“I certainly don’t trust anyone else to keep you alive,” Dorian replied grudgingly, and Kaaras smiled.
“Me neither,” Kaaras said before he started to slip out from underneath Dorian.
“What are you doing?” he demanded unhappily as he’d been quite warm and comfortable.
“If I’m going to finally learn these dances before we leave, I have to practice,” Kaaras replied as he pulled back on his smallclothes, and Dorian frowned. Did he care about the Empress of Orlais enough to get out of bed and pull his own smalls back on? Most assuredly not. The stability of Thedas? Perhaps. The life of the man whom he was watching pull on pants? Dorian sighed.
“You don’t have to—”
“And if I don’t get up, with whom shall you be dancing, exactly? A candlestick? If you still step on the toes of whatever nobles you dance with at the ball, I shall be very cross with you,” Dorian retorted as he got up and pulled on his own smalls and pants. He refused to dress any more than that, no matter how biting the cold air was.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Not until you manage to get through the dance at least once without forgetting the steps,” Dorian replied with a stern look, and Kaaras’s shoulders sagged but he nodded.
“You should go into motivational speaking,” he said they squared up, never having felt more determined to learn the dance.
“I doubt this method would work so well on anyone else.”
“Lucky for me. I might get jealous otherwise.”
“Only ‘might’?” Dorian smirked as they moved, and Kaaras frowned.
“Well… If you really wanted to, I’d try not to be,” he said carefully, and Dorian nearly missed a step.
“What?”
“If kissing someone else makes you happy, then I’d try not to be jealous.”
“And why would you possibly think that kissing someone else would make me happy?” Dorian asked, and Kaaras shrugged.
“I don’t really understand why studying necromancy makes you happy either, but it does, so that makes me happy. And I don’t know why someone else might make you happy, but if they did, then that would make me happy too. Sort of.”
“Are you saying that you’d be fine with me having other lovers?”
“Mostly. I’d try to be. If it made you happy,” Kaaras replied, and Dorian went full-stop.
“Maker. Could you be selfish just once? I’ve no interest in anyone else, Amatus.”
“I’m just saying that I want you to be happy.”
“Do you know what would make me happy?” Dorian asked, and Kaaras cocked his head. “I want you to be selfish with me. I want you to want to monopolize all of my time and attention.”
“I do.”
“Evidently not, if you’d still put my imagined whims first.”
“Because I want you to be happy!”
“Yes, so you claim.”
“I can’t help it, Dorian! Before you, nothing mattered. My only interest was surviving to the next day, and even that wasn’t always a priority. But now I’m actually alive and I’m in love with you and it’s amazing and I would let Thedas burn if it made you happy because you mean more to me than anything else in this world ever could!” Kaaras exclaimed, imploring Dorian to understand, and Dorian gaped. He opened and closed his mouth several times in the silence that stretched between them, and then tears welled in his eyes.
“Dorian?” Kaaras asked, terrified when he saw Dorian tear up, but Dorian just shook his head and looked away. “Dorian?” he tried again, kneeling down in front of him to look up at him.
“You just—” Dorian started before cutting himself off. He didn’t know if Kaaras even realized what he’d said, and Dorian wanted to point it out, but he was too afraid. He didn’t want the man to take it back. He didn’t think he could take it. “Maker,” Dorian managed before ducking down to kiss Kaaras with all his might. Kaaras returned the kiss more cautiously as he ran his hands up and down the man’s side, trying to soothe him. “You are the biggest fool,” Dorian sniffed when he broke away, resting his forehead against Kaaras’s.
“You might’ve mentioned that once or twice,” Kaaras replied with a small smile before he squeezed Dorian’s sides gently. “Are you alright?”
“Am I—Festis bei umo canavarum,” he muttered before kissing Kaaras again. “You’re very sentimental for someone who’s killed as many people as you have.”
“You bring it out in me,” Kaaras smiled, and Dorian sniffed and rolled his eyes even as the corners of his mouth twitched up.
“Sweet Maker. Next you’ll be making calf eyes at puppies.”
“I’ve already got the horns,” Kaaras shrugged, and Dorian huffed a small laugh.
“Yes, you do, but I’m afraid that won’t help you at the Winter Palace at all, so come along. Stand back up. You’ve dancing to practice.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“You already asked that, remember?”
“But you kissed me since.”
“It’s hardly my fault that it’s impossible to resist kissing you. Now, stop slouching. You’ll wrinkle your uniform if you don’t stand properly while dancing at the palace,” Dorian scolded as they squared up and he collected himself even as his heart was still racing from the confession. Kaaras did as instructed, but kept fumbling every few steps, paying more attention to Dorian’s expression than what his feet were supposed to be doing. “I know that I’m terribly distracting, but do try to focus.”
“Sorry,” Kaaras said, and he tried harder to focus. Dorian was staying up to help him, after all. So the pair spent most of the night dancing, only stopping when Kaaras finally managed to make it through the dance without making any major mistakes, other than slouching and looking down at his feet.
“Well, I suppose that wasn’t the worst dance I’ve ever had.”
“Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes, you—” Dorian started to reply, but found the rest of his reply swallowed by Kaaras’s lips.
“Thank you,” Kaaras whispered once he broke away.
“You hardly have to thank me for that, just so you’re aware,” he said, but Kaaras shook his head and kissed his cheek.
“I’m grateful.”
“You could stand to be a little less grateful and a little more selfish now and then.”
“You did stay up teaching me to dance all night. And you’re going to help me fight a dragon.”
“No, you’re learning to dance so that you can attend a ball, and you’re doing dragon hunting for The Iron Bull. Selfishness implies that you do something simply for you own gain.”
“Can I kiss you again then?”
“I’m going to have to teach you what it’s like to be spoiled, it seems,” he sighed, and Kaaras glanced around the room, taking in the extravagance of it.
“I think I’m plenty spoiled.”
“No, this is the least you are owed for preventing the end of the world,” Dorian replied, and Kaaras frowned. “I’ll think of something. Anyway, come along. I may always be handsome, but there is some upkeep required, which generally involves sleep, and nothing keeps away the cold quite as well as you.”
“Happy to help.”
“Yes, I know.”