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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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It turned out not jumping directly into bed was the most fun I’d ever had with a partner. We would catch each other alone in corridors or sneak into each other’s tents in the field after our companions were asleep. Once, in a room full of people, he bit the tip of my ear while no one was looking, but when they turned around I could say for certain that my face must have been something to behold.
I was sure not everyone knew about the two of us yet but everyone had noticed my mood changing. The grim, brooding Herald had become a light hearted Inquisitor, smiling and waving, even seen laughing if the stories were to be believed.
Leliana had told Josephine, as I’d predicted she would, and the first time I’d walked through her office afterward she had clearly not known what to do. Her eyes went wide and she tried to suppress a grin and look busy with her papers. I had just wiggled my eyebrows at her and grinned, she laughed. I had invited her to my quarters to speak later and when we had, the conversation was effortless between us. She had regaled me with tales of growing up as a young noblewoman in Nevarra, vented about the frustrations of dealing with pretentious and entitled people day in and day out, and let me know that she herself was bisexual and saw no shame or indecency in my newfound relationship.
She also gave me some friendly advice on how he and I might proceed with caution, while she attempted to quietly build trust in him within the keep.
“You would do that for me?” I had asked.
“It would be a pleasant change of pace for me, and between Leliana and I, I imagine it’s quite an attainable goal,” she had responded, eyes alight with intrigue.
I had always known the Inquisition would have been hopeless without Josephine’s connections, but I had not known how much I appreciated her as a person until she dropped all of the courtly formality.
Whatever she had started that night even seemed to be working. People around the hold no longer shot so many sideways glances at Dorian.
Today I was on my way to speak to the requisition officer about a shipment of wool we’d received, which I believed we could use to make extra blankets for our men in Emprise Du Lion, when I saw Cassandra for the first time in a long while. She was swinging her sword heavily at a training dummy.
“Inquisitor,” she said when she saw me, “May I... speak to you a moment?”
Cassandra, the woman who had had me chained and the woman who had become my most ardent defender. I adored her, I really did.
“Any time, day or night,” I said as I approached her.
“I’ve heard... some rumors,” she started, wringing her hands.
I nodded for her to continue, but I dreaded this conversation.
“... That you and Dorian are.... involved.... romantically,” her face looked slightly hurt, hearing it from Leliana she had to have known it was true. I was glad for my foresight in never having exploited her attraction to me. I had thought this would hurt Bull’s feelings, but I hadn’t even considered hers. That made me ashamed of myself.
I considered telling her it was nothing serious to spare her feelings, as it hadn’t become THAT yet, but that would have been evasive and dishonest.
“It’s true,” I told her apologetically.
She took it with all the grace and strength I loved her for. No judgement, no tears shed, only a brief warning to be careful with him.
I thanked her and promised her I would be before I continued into the requisition office, letting her take her own frustration out on the training dummy.
With that task accomplished I had nothing pressing left to do with my day. Of course, there were always pressing matters for the Inquisitor, but the Empress’ ball was still a week away and no leads Leliana had found on the Wardens had turned up anything useful as of yet. Cullen’s forces only ever grew and our presence across Thedas was well established. What I did this afternoon wasn’t going to ripple across the entire Inquisition.
So I retrieved the tome of the Silver Knight I had found in a ruined little village in the Exalted Plains from my quarters and made my way to where Dorian was seated in his usual chair by the window. He cocked an eyebrow at my arrival but did not look up from his page.
“May I?” I asked, gesturing to the chair opposite him.
“How many times must I tell you that the Herald of Andraste should not have to ask?” he said wryly, still refusing to look up.
I smirked and sat with my own book. When I’d first laid eyes upon it amongst the rubble and read the note where the author described “knowing stories even the Dalish did not” I had been skeptical but intrigued. The “Exalted Plains”, as the humans had called them, had been a hard place for me to visit. While there, Dorian sarcastically remarked on the name meant to honor the ‘great’ victory over the elves. I had felt immensely grateful for that, he must have known that where Sera felt no attachment to this land, I felt loss and sorrow.
These pages were about the last stand of the Second Exalted March, from the human perspective. The song of Ser Brandis of Orlais, not Linduranae the Emerald Knight.
We had never learned that our people were given the chance to yield. To live. They had refused, even knowing the battle could not be won they had died to show the human forces the strength of the elves. Part of me called that foolish pride, part of me imagined I’d have done the same.
I read the passage over and over. I thought it was describing Linduranae, but the song claimed she had not been felled by Ser Brandis as the Dalish told it, but rather an arrow. He had mourned her death. He had wanted to honor her. He had taken her sword, though the Shems had not known it was called Evanura, and placed it beneath a tree. What was that supposed to mean? There were not many trees in the Exalted Plains.
‘He carried it Easterly,’ the book said. My brow furrowed. The Dalish had never recovered Evanura. It would be a valued treasure of our people if it could be found. But it could not be as simple as this. The Emerald Graves? The Vallasdhalen? Of course, the Dalish would never have seen a copy of this manuscript, but could it be so simple as that? Had he carried it to the tree marked for her, and, what? Buried it there?
I had visited the Vallasdhalen, I had sought out Keeper Hawen’s clansmen, regrettably finding them dead. Of all the places we’d traveled, the Emerald Graves had been my favorite. Standing beneath those trees, still growing and breathing after all these centuries, it had brought me great peace. The sad and tortured history of the elves was just that. History. It could not be changed. What was important was how I used my own self to raise elves back up. I imagined if this book spoke true, and Evanura were available to recover, it would raise a cheer across all our people, maybe even the ones in the cities.
I imagined Dorian could be of aid in that particular endeavor too. A Tevinter, with an elf? It could be inspiring, could it not? It was either going to be a tale of triumph or tragedy. Though, maybe I should ask him if it would even be out of the ordinary, perhaps it was commonplace in the Imperium, I’d been wrong about so much else of his homeland I felt I should stop making assumptions.
I looked over at him to find he was staring at me, which was a bit startling.
“What?” I asked.
“I have never seen you with a book in your hand,” he explained. “At first I’d thought you were here to mock me, but then you actually started reading it.”
“How generous of you to assume I wasn’t just admiring the pages.”
He chuckled a bit at that. “The look on your face suggested you understood at least some of the words,” he teased, “Anything interesting?”
“Actually, yes,” I admitted. “If the author is to be believed, and it hasn’t already been taken by anybody else, I could go on an adventure and attempt to locate Evanura.”
“The... entire Elvhen pantheon?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled, shaking my head. It was adorable how close to being correct he was. “That is the Enavuris. Evanura is a sword. Legend says it was last held by Linduranae the Enerald Knight during the Second Exalted March where she died. Then it was lost to us.”
“And the book has a treasure map, does it?”
“Something like that,” I said. “Would you fancy an adventure today?”
“I wouldn’t,” he said, but he marked his page and put his own novel down. “I really wouldn’t, you’re always dragging me off into the wilderness where we are attacked by lyrium infested Templars and over large spiders, but I know how desperately you need the assistance so of course I must oblige you.”
“How desperately I need the assistance?” I rebuked.
“Yes I’ve grown rather fond of you," he chided, "if you went off and died on me I might even notice you were gone.”
“Well I’m going to take a ride,” I stated matter-of-factly, not knowing how to respond to his sentiment. “If you would like to come, you’re welcome to, but there will be wilderness.”
I walked down the stone stairway and quite immediately heard a sigh and his footsteps behind me. Varric was by the hearth writing and I was suddenly very excited to see him.
“Varric!” I hissed, “Legendary quest based on some old sheets of paper, potential for ancient Elvhen treasure, venison over a campfire for dinner. What say you?”
“I’ll get Bianca,” he stood up.
“We going somewhere, Boss?” Bull shouted from the table across the hall where trays of food had been set out for Josephine to host some noble or other today. He was helping himself to some free lunch and must have seen me talking to Varric. I walked over to him and took a slice of a bread loaf with little bits of fruit in it.
“Emerald Graves,” I said, taking a mouthful of the sweet bread.
“Sounds good,” he grunted.
--------------
I brought a bow with me, my mouth was watering already thinking of the August Ram roasting over the fire. I loved it here. Everything verdant, the scent of moss and fresh water, Elvhen ruins being reclaimed by nature. The way south through the mountains was cold and dismal, entering this valley felt like stepping into paradise every time.
I kept my Dalish delight here to myself. If I’d been on my own nothing would have stopped me from rolling in the lush blanket of ground cover like I was a child. Perhaps after everyone had fallen asleep I’d sneak away and do just that.
Elgar’nan bleated and shook his head. There was no hiding his delight. I dismounted, removed his saddle and bridle, and let him lope off through the trees.
“Sun’s going to set soon, we’ll make camp here,” I said to the others.
Dorian was already taking the bridle off of Gil so that he could chase after Elgar’nan. Bull had ridden the Nuggalope I’d bought for him, I think he’d decided to call it Doug. I had figured such an imposing man needed an equally imposing mount and I’d always pitied the horses who’d had to carry him. Varric dismounted his own horse and let her graze nearby, but she was not so brave as the Harts, who were now both completely out of sight.
The four of us each put up our own tents in a circle and Dorian conjured a fire in the center. The sky grew darker but I was still a keen hunter at night, they said elves had better eyes. I retrieved my bow and told them I’d be back.
“You sure you don’t need help, Boss?” asked Bull though he was already cracking open a bottle of Antivan Brandy.
“I’m sure a Ram would hear you coming a league away,” I shot back.
He shrugged and took a swig, then passed the bottle to Varric.
I took off into the forest and it wasn’t long before I encountered a herd of August Rams. The population of them here was massive, they were never hard to find. I moved silently through the underbrush, notched an arrow, and lined up my shot. There was a thrum of my bowstring and a soft *thwack* as my arrow struck the animal directly through the eye. It dropped and the rest of the herd scattered.
I allowed myself a grin, feeling proper Dalish as I did in that moment.
I dragged the body back to camp and was toasted by my men. I could dress a deer for roasting in less than 15 minutes, blindfolded, it would be no time at all before we’d be eating.
As I worked, carefully skinning and gutting the creature, I listened to my friends by the fire.
“Come on! Just answer the question Varric!” Dorian was pestering, I'd missed the beginning of this conversation.
“My mother didn’t raise any morons, Sparkler, I won’t touch that one,” Varric sounded exasperated.
“You must have an opinion,” Dorian countered, taking a swig of Brandy before passing the bottle on to Bull, who seemed deeply amused by this particular dialogue. “And you’re a dwarf! Completely unbiased.”
“There's no way I'm answering ‘which Inquisition mage is the best-dressed.’ Not for all the gold in Orzammar,” laughed the dwarf.
I turned my head and cocked an eyebrow, that was the question? Dorian and Varric being so intent on each other, Bull was the only one who saw me. He smiled and held up the bottle of Brandy as an invitation. I took a moment away from my dead ram and wiped a bloody hand on my breeches before going around to take a long drink from the bottle and then handing it back and returning to my work.
“I want a new nickname,” Dorian proceeded to tell Varric.
“What’s wrong with Sparkler? Not colorful enough for you?” he asked. Bull bellowed with laughter.
“You must know me better now. Or does the moniker you gave me five minutes after we met still apply?” Dorian argued.
Varric made a grand gesture, “I have the eyes of a storyteller, it’s a gift.”
I had not read Varric’s writings but from conversation I knew it to be true. It was why I thought he’d quite like this adventure. I hoped if we actually found something, perhaps he’d write it down.
“So I’m a bit of light you stick in the window sill to impress passerby? All flash, no heat?” Dorian worked it over, “Hmmm.... that’s actually pretty clever.”
“See? Embrace your place in the Universe, Sparkler.”
I scowled a bit over my prey, begging to differ. Dorian certainly was a lot of flash, but I wouldn’t have said there was NO heat. I wasn’t about to express that to the whole of the camp, but he and I had gotten QUITE heated on occasion. I lingered on that thought for only a moment before pushing it back away to concentrate on what I was doing.
When I was done I erected a spit over the flames and set our supper to cooking.
“There’s a river back there,” I said, gesturing to the area behind our campsite. “I’m going to get the blood off.”
“Thank the Maker,” said Dorian, “I’ve got to piss and I’m not about to wander off into this forest alone.”
“Afraid?” Bull teased him.
“That I’d get lost and starve to death? Yes, have you met me?” Dorian admitted.
I shook my head, chuckling, and walked in the direction of the river, Dorian on my heels. While I rinsed the blood from my hands and armor he did indeed relieve himself behind a tree, but as I stepped out of the river he latched onto my coat and pulled me into him, displaying a mischievous grin.
“A man who can provide, I see,” he purred.
“You’ve seen me hunt before, Dorian.”
“With a sword... and Sera,” he said. “I did not know you were so proficient with a bow. Makes me wonder what other talents you’re hiding from me.”
I rolled my eyes, though I doubt he saw it in the darkness. I wasn’t hiding anything, he was the one making me wait, not that I wasn’t enjoying the ride.
I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “You can find out any time you’d like.” Then I ever so gently brushed my bottom lip against the side of his neck.
That was enough. He grabbed my face and pried my mouth open with his, our tongues intertwining. His hands explored my waist and up my back. He moved his mouth to the Vallaslin at my throat, tracing the blood writing with his lips and adding a little nip with his teeth. I let my head fall back and released a deep sigh of pleasure, but I couldn't let myself be lost in him right now.
This time, I summoned all of my self control and pulled away from him first. “All flash and no heat, huh Sparkler?”
He grinned at me.
I shook my head, reaches out and brushed his face with the back of my fingers, and turned to walk in the direction of our camp before I lost my nerve and returned to his lips.
I could hear the others talking as I approached our tents.
“How could you possibly be a spy?”
“Well, it's a pretty easy job. I do some fighting, and drinking, and then once in a while I tell Par-Vollen about it.”
“Heh,” Varric chuckled, “Where's the sneaking, plotting, the subtle machinations?”
“If you do that, everyone knows you're a spy,” Bull explained. “Drinking, fighting, writing notes, that's all it really takes.”
I could see Varric’s face now as he mulled it over. “Shit. You're really the worst Qunari ever or the best. I can't decide.”
Dorian and I joined them, across from one another at the fire. Once again I could enjoy the light playing with his features, casting shadows around the muscles in his arms. I stared at the spot on his neck where my lips had just been, smirking to myself.
We talked, we ate, we drank, and we talked some more for hours into the night. Elgar’nan and Gil had returned to the camp and were lying happily with Varric’s horse and Bull’s Nuggalope. What was left of the Ram at the end of it I wrapped in broad leaves and stored for tomorrow. There was nothing left of the Brandy.
Bull and Varric turned in for the night, as did Dorian, though not before he gave me a last come hither look. As tempting as it was to follow him into his tent what I really wanted was to be out here, in the ancient wilderness of my people.
I had set up my own tent for appearances, really, I had known I wouldn’t want to use it. It was always warm in this valley, even at night. I walked over, instead, to where my Hart lay and leaned my back up against him, nuzzling my face into his fur. I knew they caught him wild, he’d been so skiddish when he’d first arrived at Skyhold and had almost definitely never seen a saddle before. Maybe he had recognized me as kin or maybe that brief fling with the Lavellan clan’s Halla Keeper had taught me more than I thought, but we were bonded now. A small whistle and Elgar’nan was by my side. If the Inquisition disbanded tomorrow and I could only choose one thing to return home with, it would be him.
A small voice nagged me at that thought. Dorian? it asked me. I sighed. I could hardly take a Tevinter lover back to my clan. Dorian was not even my lover, we were simply having fun as two men who enjoyed each other’s company and generally making out, it was hardly a promise of forever. I couldn’t imagine him living in the forest or showing up to my whistle, though that last part would be mildly entertaining. No, I pushed the nagging voice away, Elgar’nan was a much safer bet.
I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, two untamed beasts in the soft undergrowth.
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An Unlikely Pairing (Dragon Age Inquisition)