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An Unlikely Pairing (Dragon Age Inquisition)	By : Elvhennan Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 949 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Dragon Age: Inquisition. I do not own the fandom nor the characters and I make no profit off of this story.

Chapter List
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I realized later I had not asked Dorian about Tevinter ruins at all. He did have a way of distracting me. All the time. In his presence it was almost too easy to forget that outside the world was ending.
I thought maybe I should distance myself from him, I had much more pressing concerns, I couldn’t really afford to be focused on my fucking love life.
Of course I thought about this as I stared at his ass walking down a road in the Hinterlands.
We were looking for more of the strange relics revealed by the Occularums that seemed to be scattered about all of Thedas. Solas wanted to study them, he thought maybe they could reveal some kind of lost secret, give us an upper hand in the fight against Corypheus. And so we were climbing the winding, rocky trail behind Dennet’s farm.
Of course we’d delivered some letters and gifts to his wife while we were out here and thanked her heartily for allowing her husband to be whisked away with us. In return she’d given us bread and two jars of her homemade fruit preserves to put in our packs, though she requested that one of those jars make it back to her husband as it was a particular favorite of his. I promised her that I would try my best, but one look at Bull and she seemed... skeptical.
“I camped these hills for two weeks when I first got here,” Dorian announced after taking in the view from the hills. “Me, camping!” He laughed.
It was quite the scene to imagine, though with his magic I hardly thought he’d be out gathering wood for a campfire. I wondered if his tent had been made of fine silk. I wondered how he’d occupied himself alone for two weeks. I wondered if Dennet had ever noticed him living back here. That last thought caused me a great bit of internal hilarity.
I would be perfectly content in these hills, especially now that the Templars’ and Mages’ camps had been cleared out and the fighting had ceased. Plenty of Ram and Bear meat to keep me fed, freshwater streams gurgling down from the mountains, indeed I thought it’d be a rather pleasant place to live.
I leapt nimbly over a boulder at the top of the ridge to pick up the last mysterious shard we’d been seeking. When I turned to jump back down I stopped, noticing the way Dorian was staring at Iron Bull. I had done the same on occasion, of course, as he was an impressive figure, but every time I tried to imagine what THAT would be like, it made me feel more nervous than aroused.
I worried for a moment that maybe Dorian disagreed with that sentiment and felt a pang of jealousy.
“Quite the stink eye you’ve got going, Dorian,” said Bull. He was a keen warrior and a spy, I was not surprised he caught on to what was happening.
“You stand there flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest,” Dorian said, not quite aggressively enough to be a real insult, more of an observation. “That’s all.”
Bull smiled and took a step towards the mage. “That’s right,” he growled. “These big muscled hands could tear those robes off while you struggled, helpless in my grip.”
Sera and I stared at the two of them in the same shocked silence, me from atop my boulder, Sera from where she’d been lining up a shot at a Ram, now letting her bow and arrow drop as her head whipped around to look at the two men. But where she had a hint of a smile on her face, I was certain my own must be as red as the Templars we fought. Dorian was my conquest.
“I would pin you down,” Bull continued, “and as you gripped my horns I. Would. Conquer. You.”
Right then and there I thought I might have to try to kill The Iron Bull. I wasn’t sure I could, but certainly I had the high ground at the moment. I was mulling over strategies when I heard Dorian speak again.
“Uhhhh, what?”
“Oh,” Bull backed up a step, grinning, “is that not where you were going with that?”
The look on Dorian’s face was equal parts incredulous and intrigued. “No, it was very much not.”
Bull guffawed and clapped Dorian on the shoulder. I felt a wave of relief. It seemed Dorian felt as I did, that he enjoyed being able to walk.
I hopped down off the boulder and shot Dorian a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. Now it was funny, I couldn’t help imagining it, poor Dorian.
“Shall we return these to Solas?” I asked grinning, holding up the sack of all the shards we’d collected for him.
“Gladly,” smiled Dorian shooting one last look at Bull, who just shrugged.
Sera had finally stopped cackling. She wiped tears from her eyes and strung her bow across her chest once more.
We took our mounts back from the stables at Dennet’s and began the ride home to Skyhold. Bull rode as our vanguard while I was the shield at our backs. We’d just entered the mountain pass that took us out of the Hinterlands, our Harts single file and sure-footed on the winding, rocky trails, when Sera shouted over her shoulder.
“The people back in Tevinter, are they all just like you, Dorian?”
“Meaning what exactly?” asked Dorian sounding like he expected to be insulted, a feeling I was very familiar with.
To his surprise Sera explained, “You know; not scary, keeping their magic rubbish to themselves?”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he proclaimed cheerfully. What he said next was more depressing, ”Sadly, there's an element there who would welcome Corypheus with open arms. A stupidly short-sighted element.”
“I know right? He’s a pissbag.”
“Ha! Quite!” Dorian agreed with a chuckle. “You know, I can't believe you're scared of magic, Sera. It's a gift as mundane to me as your bow to you. Surely you see there's nothing to fear in a properly used tool.”
“Ugh, tell that to all the mages waving their ‘tools’ in people’s faces,” she griped.
“There’s an image,” I heard Dorian mutter as he shook his head. “Still, I’m wondering if familiarity would cure your suspicion of magic.”
“I don’t need to be familiar with your tool,” she argued.
Bull laughed up ahead and I laughed where I was. From behind him I could see Dorian reach up with one hand and pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Please stop saying ‘tool’,” he begged her. “And consider how much we could accomplish. There are benefits for you and everyone. As the Maker said: ‘Magic exists to serve.’”
“I don’t care,” expressed Sera. “I like you, Dorian, don’t ruin it.”
The rest of the ride continued much the same way, our group in good spirits.

We crossed through the gates of Skyhold after nightfall and all having felt particularly friendly we headed to the Herald’s Rest to share an evening of drinking. Cabot broke open a few bottles of Butterbile for us. It wasn’t long before Bull made his second pass at Dorian, letting him know that his door was always unlocked if he ever wanted to explore the option. With the notable lack of sex in my own life and the amount of liquor soaked into my brain, it didn’t seem a bad offer at the moment. And I absolutely should have expected others being attracted to HIM, after all he was the most beautiful, if not the most mistrusted, member of my inner circle.
Although Dorian again refused the invitation, the little pang of jealousy flickered in me somewhere primal. Was I jealous because I thought he might eventually break down and give himself to Bull? Or was I jealous that Bull had the courage to let his attraction be known? Was I jealous that even if my attraction was known to him, he might prefer Bull? Probably all of it, I thought as I took another shot.
Krem appeared and pulled Bull away, no doubt to report back on Therinfall Redoubt. I told them I was much too drunk to be debriefed now. Bull said he’d DEBRIEF me anytime I asked. Excellent, the sexual innuendos now extended to me. Dorian seemed to take great pleasure in that.
“I KNOW!” shouted Sera though no one had addressed her. “We’ll have an archery contest.”
“Wha-“ I tried to start but she’d gotten very excited about an idea that had materialized very suddenly. Liquor.
“On Saturday!” She stood up abruptly and beamed at Dorian and I. “Brilliant, innit? I’m going to make a flyer.”
She started walking towards the stairs that would take her to her cabinet. Then she turned and very seriously told us “Varric and Bianca won’t be allowed” before dashing up the steps.
Dorian and I laughed rather hard at all of this, looked at each other, and shook ourselves back into posterity. Where was the Inquisitor’s sulky demeanor? Where was the cool, casual Magister no one could trust? People wouldn’t know what to do if they learned we were real people.
I sighed, still trying to kill the remnants of my laughter. Here we were alone in a tavern again, though with much more familiarity than we had had back then. I would have been suspicious that Sera and Bull had been present both times, but there wasn’t ever a night they weren’t in the tavern. Fenhedis, Sera lived here. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my neck. All of the fighting and riding I was doing these days made for some stiff muscles.
“It’s nice to see you relax,” Dorian remarked, pouring us both another shot. He gave me a sly look. “It’s usually exhausting to watch you.”
“How do you mean?” I sat back up to level with him. He was in the habit of watching me, was he?
“Always running around Skyhold,” he said lifting his glass to take his shot. “Here and there you go, checking in on all your followers. I mean, why don’t they come to you? Feed you grapes. Rub your shoulders.”
I laughed, is that what it was like in Tevinter? I chased my chuckle with the shot he’d poured for me.
“Eh, I suppose it’s more fun this way,” he continued and then smiled deviously. “For me, anyway.”
I gave him a quizzical look.
“You’re rather strapping.”
On the ride to Redcliffe I had wondered if Dorian was flirting with me. This time there wasn’t much to wonder about. Perhaps Bull had inspired HIM to be more direct. This time I certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity.
“I’d noticed you’re quite strapping yourself,” I offered.
“Heh,” he leaned onto his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on them. “Well that only takes eyes.”
I reciprocated his body language, leaning forward onto the table so there was only a foot of space between us. This close I could see that his skin was flawless.
“Luckily I have those,” I looked directly into his.
“Yes you do,” his voice was dancing, he joined me in the staring contest, “a rather fetching pair.”
I was ready to jump his bones in the middle of the Herald’s Rest. We were not as drunk as we were the night in Haven, the rising heat in my breeches was saying that I could absolutely perform.
“Done!” Sera abruptly interrupted us. “Can I use your sword as a hammer?”
I cleared my throat and gathered myself. “Dennet’s got a real hammer in the stables,” I said, my voice threatening to crack. “I’ll fetch it.”
I shot up from my chair and strode straight out the door without so much as a glance back at Dorian. The air was cold tonight and the moon was bright. I had to take a few deep breaths and steady myself, what the fuck was that? Had that really just happened? My mind was stuttering in disbelief. Maybe we WERE that drunk. Had Sera noticed? I was mortified, but the great thing about leather was the it hid certain anatomical features well. She probably, maybe, hopefully hadn’t noticed.
I shook it off and headed down the stone steps to the stables. Blackwall was doing one of his wood carvings by lamplight. I asked him where I could get a hammer and he got up himself to retrieve one for me. I thanked him and told him he was a talented craftsmen.
“Sera will be wondering where I am,” I said in goodbye.
“Goodnight, Inquisitor,” he replied.
When I returned to the Herald’s Rest, Sera informed me Dorian had taken off for the evening. She then proceeded to hammer her flyer directly into a structural beam in the middle of the tavern, much to Cabot’s dismay. I told her I was turning in for the night as well, and invited her to polish off the Butterbile without us. I tried not to let her see how crestfallen I was.
Fuck, I thought. I had completely botched it. Dorian probably had a mouth full of Iron Bull right now. I ran from him. Why did I do that? I would have never done that back in the Free Marches. Sera be damned, posterity be damned, I would have taken his hand and lead him to my chambers and had my way with him. Where had THAT Amheotil gone?
Who was I kidding? Dorian wasn’t some merchant’s son, wondering what it was like to have an elf, that I could only be too happy to oblige. He was a grown man, a powerful mage, a noble, and a picturesque specimen of the male physique. Even in my element in the Free Marches, he would have intimidated me.
I ambled up the stairs to my quarters feeling equal measures giddy that he had flirted with me at all and devastated that I had blown it.
Mostly I was not ready for our next conversation which I was sure would be painfully awkward. For me, at least.
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An Unlikely Pairing (Dragon Age Inquisition)