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Dorian was staring out the window of his nook in Skyhold’s library, watching the Inquisitor roam his fortress. At that moment, Kaaras Adaar, Herald of Andraste and Defender of the Faithful, was sitting in the little Chantry garden he’d invested much time and effort into creating, tending to plants. A Qunari mage, a saarebas who had escaped from his bindings and could very well take down a giant on his own—not that he’d tried that just yet, thankfully—was gardening. Some part of Dorian enjoyed the irony. This was the man that was going to save the world? This was the man that the magister who had started the Blight feared? Preposterous.
And yet, here they all were, alive because of the man picking weeds out of potted elfroot.
It had been about a week since Dorian had woken up in his chambers with a pounding headache, a glass of water on his bedside table and much of the Inquisitor’s clothing spread on top of top of him with his blankets. In other words, it had been a week since Dorian had encountered his father and then later learned that Kaaras had once been one of the fearsome Qunari that he had been raised to fear and hate.
And Dorian, being the rebellious pariah that he was, finally admitted to himself that not only did he find Kaaras attractive as a prime specimen of his race, but was also emotionally attached. And not in a simply friendly way. It was absolutely foolish and doomed to be a terrible mess for any number of reasons, and yet…
“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian muttered forcing himself to turn back to his book for the umpteenth time that day. He was smiling like an idiot just watching the oversized man pick flowers. Maker, what had come over him? He was in the South. He was the man’s subordinate. He was in the middle of a war! He shouldn’t be making calf eyes at the man, no matter how attractive, and surprisingly charming, and witty, and—
By the Maker he was going to strangle himself with his own robes.
It was like he was a young, naïve child back in the Vyrantium Circle again. Soon he’d start doodling Kaaras’s name in the margins of his research notes.
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, wondering why, out of everyone in the south that he could have developed feelings for, it had to be the man who was the unwitting, probably-doomed figurehead of a religious movement.
Well, if nothing else, Dorian doubted he’d outlive Kaaras in this war anyway, so at least he wouldn’t have to live with the consequences for very long.
Dorian sat there, considering for another moment, and then stood, heading down to the garden himself. If they were both doomed to die in this war anyhow, he may as well enjoy himself by making Kaaras blush while he had the chance.
What harm could there really be?
oOo
Dorian was in his thirties and still utterly naïve.
What harm could come of flirting with the Inquisitor, Dorian? What harm could there be in just a few kisses? Surely there was no harm in helping the Inquisitor learn to read, right? How much harm could really come from falling asleep on the Inquisitor’s shoulder in a hidden library in the depths of Skyhold?
“You’re a blighted fool,” Dorian scowled at himself in the mirror alone in his chambers. He hefted his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his staff before marching out to meet the rest of the Inquisitor’s party by the gates.
Dorian knew he was in too deep when he willingly volunteered to accompany the Inquisitor to a place called the “Fallow Mire.” Again.
The first time he’d accompanied the Inquisitor, it had been to rescue some poor souls who had been captured by an Avvar tribe. He hadn’t been particularly happy about going into a swamp filled with rotting corpses that had long-since perished from a plague, but it had been the right thing to do, and as a necromancer, Kaaras thought he would be exceptionally helpful given Scout Harding’s reports.
Now, however, Kaaras was venturing out because Commander Helaine told him that he needed wisp essence in order to craft a spirit blade, and the essence could only be found by slaying Pure Wisps, something specific to areas where the veil was incredibly thin.
And Dorian, being the fool that he was, absolutely refused to let the Inquisitor out of his sight, especially when it was because of him that Kaaras wanted to learn to be a Knight Enchanter in the first place.
“‘Maybe then I can cast barriers. I hate seeing you get hurt when I could have protected you,’” Dorian muttered under his breath. It had been his own fault that a bandit in Crestwood had nearly sliced open his gut. He should’ve cast a Mind Blast, but was too busy showing off with an excessive ice wall. But instead, Kaaras had blamed himself and played nursemaid for a week until the surgeon at Caer Bronach gave him the all-clear for travel.
Still, when he showed up with his things, Kaaras was already there waiting, and his smile, one that lit up his entire face despite being just a small twitch at the corner of his lips, already made the trip completely worth it to Dorian, even if Kaaras never managed to cast a proper barrier in his entire life.
Utterly hopeless fool.
oOo
Maker, I love this man, Dorian thought to himself. Then he blinked in surprise, and glanced over at Kaaras who continued silently going through reports from Orlais by the candlelight. It had only been a few days since they returned from the ball at the Winter Palace, and while things seemed to be looking up for the Inquisition, Kaaras was also looking more tired.
His whole life, Dorian had expected falling in love to be something huge and sudden and equal parts terrifying and wonderful. At least, that was what all of the songs and stories had led him to believe. But as he looked at Kaaras staring at the paper with a knot in his brow, Dorian realized that while it hadn’t been as dramatic as he expected, it was no less true.
“Amatus,” he called, half expecting the word to somehow feel different, but it didn’t. It seemed that the feeling had been there for quite some time, but Dorian had simply been too distracted to notice.
“Hm?” Kaaras asked, looking towards him, and Dorian smiled just a little.
“You’ll ruin your sight if you keep reading with only that candle. Come to bed,” he beckoned, and Kaaras didn’t need any more encouragement to blow out the last light in the room and crawl beneath the covers at Dorian’s side.
“See? Much better,” he commented, and Kaaras hummed in agreement as Dorian rested his head on his lover’s shoulder. Much better, Dorian thought, smiling to himself.
oOo
“The Deep Roads?”
“Yes.”
“As in underground. With darkspawn. While there are earthquakes going on.”
“Because of the earthquakes, yes.”
“When we only just had the official celebration for surviving the fight with Corypheus a week ago,” Dorian confirmed again. Kaaras just nodded, and Dorian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment as he thought about having to go to such a miserable place.
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Dorian,” Kaaras assured, but Dorian scowled at him.
“Well you’re certainly not fighting darkspawn without me.”
“Then you’ll come?”
“It seems so,” Dorian confirmed with a heavy sigh. He had expected to be able to bask in their victory for a while longer, but apparently saving the world simply meant that everyone would turn to the Inquisitor, expecting him to solve all of their problems. Still, after all those close calls with darkspawn on the Storm Coast a few months ago, there was no way Dorian could allow the man he loved to go into their nests without him.
“Thank you,” Kaaras smiled apologetically, and Dorian repressed a groan. How could he possibly deny the man when he wore that expression?
“Yes, well. You’re just lucky that I love you too much to send you down there on your own.”
Dorian turned away to go make sure that all of his gear was still in proper order, but before he could take a step, he found himself wrapped up in Kaaras’s arms with kisses being pressed into the side of his head.
“Thank you.”
Dorian felt his heart squeeze, but tried to ignore it.
“Not that I mind this hugging, but mind your horns, will you?” Dorian commented, and Kaaras moved so that his face was nuzzling the top of Dorian’s head, just to make sure he didn’t accidentally hurt him with his horns.
“I love you too,” Kaaras mumbled, planting several more kisses in Dorian’s hair, making Dorian sigh as he most definitely did not blush.
“Surely it’s not that much of a surprise?” Dorian asked when it seemed that Kaaras wasn’t planning to let him go any time soon, not that he minded.
“No,” Kaaras confirmed, but he still held Dorian tightly against him, grinning into the mage’s hair.
“If I say it again, will you release me?” Dorian asked, and Kaaras considered.
“Probably not. Unless you want me to.”
“Why did I have to fall in love with such a sap?” Dorian lamented, grumbling half-heartedly, and Kaaras squeezed him tighter with a smile that threatened to split his face.
“I love you too,” Kaaras repeated, snuggling against his lover more, and Dorian huffed in poorly-feigned annoyance.
“Yes, yes, we both love each other. Delightful. Might you let me go now?” Dorian requested, and Kaaras reluctantly released Dorian, even as he continued smiling like an idiot.
Well, at least if they both died terrible deaths in the deep roads, they had already saved the world and they knew how they felt about one another. That was worth something, at least, Dorian thought as he rolled his eyes even as he let himself smile back just a little. Honestly, Dorian never stood a chance against the man.