killedwithlove | PSL: Dorian

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dorian

PSL: Dorian

The trip to Tevinter was long and dangerous, but it was safer than the alternative of staying in Orlais or Fereldan, staying near the Inquisitor or near the Wolf.

He hadn't been able to plan it. He wasn't good at planning, regardless, but if he had planned, the Wolf would have realised what he was going to do and have stopped him. Changed him. Rewritten what he was and he didn't want to ever be rewritten again.

He hid from people with a thought and often spent the day hiding with wild animals, soothing them into letting him rest with them, stay hidden and safe.

It took him less time that it should have, but more than he wanted, to reach the property of House Pavus. He had followed the pull of warmth once he hit the city limits, where slaves were well treated and there was no stench of fear/despair/blood tangled in the brickwork.

He walked past the guards by telling them not to see him and into the palace itself. Finding Dorian was more difficult. He didn't know Dorian well after so long. So he had to ask someone where he was and that was how he had ended sitting on top of a dome with a small group of confused guards and servants trying to work out where the intruder was while Cole tried to work out what he should do next.

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Being welcomed home with open arms and open hearts and smiles was well beyond him, and Dorian had known that even before setting back out for home after the last spat he'd had with the Inquisitor. But all in all, he was more welcome here than he had been when he'd first left to join the cause back when it was still something good for Ferelden, and that was saying something. Halward was still a stubborn, headstrong man, but he had given up on this idea that he should try and change Dorian into something he was never meant to be.

The atmosphere of the entire Pavus estate had changed since he'd become an established member of it again. The slaves were hardly slaves anymore, more along the lines of indentured servants, with orders to save their earnings until they could support themselves. If there was one thing that speaking with the Inquisitor had helped him realize, it was that even though he'd grown up with servants, slaves, maids, that didn't make it right. So he'd vowed to keep them safe, and give them proper lives.

He actually had a lot of loyal staff these days because of it.

One of them had come to see him in his study, looking dazed and quite bewildered as he knocked, then announced a visitor. He didn't sound convinced that there actually WAS a visitor, but he still let Dorian know that one had arrived, intent on seeing him.

Dorian knew the look, and was on his feet at once. He was dressed in Tevinter finery, and by now his hair had grown out substantially, held back in a loose ponytail. There were other trappings of his status, jewelry that could be used as foci, and his staff was in hand as soon as he was up, adorned with its skull and ivory tendrils. He frowned softly upon spotting Cole's wide-brimmed hat behind the servant.

"Leave us," he ordered the man quietly, waiting until he was obeyed then going to invite Cole into the study himself. Stacked shoulder-high with books on most surfaces, covered in candle stubs that would need to be melted down into more candles later, every surface held some subject of study. Dorian looked very much at home in the middle of it all. His hands eventually lit on Cole's shoulders, gripping down gently.

"Cole, what are you doing here?"

Cole... fluttered.

He was holding onto his human form, but it was ragged at the edges, wanting to bleed out. There was so much Compassion here that it warmed him through, staved off the chill of fear.

He didn't answer at first, moving in a curl of smoke to a bookcase and touching one of the tomes, listening to it talked about the desires of those who had read it, to make something better, to not resort to taking life for power.

"Visiting you."

It was a cagey answer, but an honest one. Was he being deliberately obtuse? Hard to say.

"Obviously," Dorian sighed, his hands falling from where they'd been hovering after Cole had simply evaporated from under them. He followed after, after a few seconds, standing there at Cole's side with his hands together behind his back. He looked over after a moment of thoughtful silence. "You left the Inquisition, and came to a place you know could be incredibly dangerous to you. Are you...alright?"

Cole was quiet for another long moment, rocking on his feet.

"It... feels safer. Than where I was. He won't look here. Too dangerous, too fraught, but you're here and you care. I didn't know where else I could go. This is safer than Kirkwall."

For a different value of safe. Kirkwall would probably tear him to pieces, leave only Despair instead of Cole.

Dorian gave a slightly callous laugh at that. "If you'd gone to Kirkwall I might have come and retrieved you myself." He moved back toward the massive desk that held what he was working on at the moment, which picked up where he'd left off at Skyhold when he'd still had its resources available to him. It had been difficult, but like hell was he just going to let all of this happen just because he'd returned home.

As a matter of fact, since returning, establishing a shaky alliance with his father, and having Maeveris Tilani at his back, he was now amassing a small but not unworthy force of his own. Soporati that would rather die that be in the hands of a magister bent on enslaving the world. Lower-class mages that just wanted to live to see another day, and have a reason to live. Nobles that bristled at the idea of Tevinter's glory being used to destroy the entire world. Everyone had their own personal reasons, and many did not get along. But it was a start.

Dorian's fingers ran over one of the books that he'd stolen from Skyhold. It was a volume on military movements and magical armaments. There were others like it here; anything that he was certain could be used to further grow the Inquisition's power, he had tucked it away into his own belongings. The Inquisitor was smart, but he definitely wasn't sneaky.

"You're certain you feel safe here? You know as well as I do what could happen if the Venatori managed to catch you."

If he'd gone to Kirkwall, Varric would him packed him up and sent him anywhere else in the world.

Cole wandered for a few moments, fingers trailing along the ranks of books to pick up fleeting impressions and lingering emotions and thoughts. He considered the question, picking his own feelings and thoughts out from those around him.

Other people felt safe here. They felt things he didn't quite know, good things, but unfamiliar. Hope? Maybe Hope.

"Yes. I feel safe here. You'll protect me. From the Venatori. And from him."

"I'll try my very best, at least." Dorian glanced around the stacks again,, then rounded his desk to settle back into his work. "I've got a great deal left to do for the day, Cole. If you'll find Iria, she'll take you to one of the spare rooms. Whatever one you like. Supper will be called in a few hours and while I know you don't eat, I'd like to introduce you to the others-"

Not father, bad idea, panic and hate before anything else, can't hurt him like that.

The thought was accompanied by a brief tightening of expression. He was still working on things with Halward.

"I already know your father. Through you and the people here."

Cole has not got better about reading people's minds. If anything, it became more and more of a necessity as he travelled, to know what people saw and thought so he could make his way safely.

"I won't distract you. I'll be quiet. I promise."

He didn't want to go somewhere by himself. He wanted to stay with Dorian. Where he felt safe.

Dorian grimaced, just a bit. "You know of my father through us all. But he does not know of you, and honestly he's not the easiest person to talk to, even on those batters with which we're both familiar. He has a very...traditional sort of view on spirits and demons.

He settled forward in his seat with his elbow propped on the edge of his desk, gesturing to one of the comfortable-looking seats at its side. He occasionally had advisors stop in to help him, but sometimes became frustrated with them, as he made them nervous in kind. It was still a work in progress, around here.

"Fine, stay. You can be useful though, find me a book, if it's not a bother." He tapped a list that was settled on top of a stack, and he sort of took for granted that Cole would know what he was looking for, even if the writing wasn't in the common Trade language. His tone was distracted now, as he went back to the one that he'd already been flipping through, placing small slips of paper between some of the pages to mark them, making notations on a board with a candle stub mostly melted off of it, wax crusting the corner. His eyes were narrowed; he was tired, and his eyes itched. He'd been at this for hours already.

Cole wrinkled his nose. Knew, knew of, it meant the same thing to him, he didn't really understand how seeing someone in person would be that different for him. For Halward, sure, but not for him.

He moved with a thought, appearing in the seat in another curl of smoke, curled up in a small ball, knees to his chest and his chin resting on top of his knee, hugging his legs. He took off his hat after a long moment, setting it aside and letting the faint breezes tug at his sweat damp hair. He picked up the list, frowning and squinting at it and then resting his fingers on the ink instead, humming and nodding. "Yes, all right, I understand now. Took them, kept the safe, stop the Inquisition spreading too far, grasping too tight, but the chaos, where did I put them all- I can find them. But you should have a break. Your eyes are dry and your back wants to stretch and straighten and crack. The chair thinks you've been there too long as well."

"The chair is too hard for its own good." His backside went numb after too long sitting in it. When that happened, Dorian paced. When he paced, it made the staff nervous. Restlessness in magisters made them all acutely aware that he was capable of terrifying things, even if he hadn't yet lashed out at them. There was always the potential. Such was the nature of living in Minrathous as long as some of them had.

The wide-eyed look Cole gave him just made him sigh, and Dorian stepped over to his side, just outside of arm's reach. "You smell like you slept in a stable. Would you mind terribly if I asked you to visit the baths? Would that even work for someone that's not always solid?"

"The chair is as hard as it was made."

Cole stroked his fingertips over the chair he was on, restless and slowly settling again. He hadn't had a chance to bathe. Or eat. He didn't need to do either usually, but the heat and the weeks of staying with animals hadn't done any favours for him.

"I... can bathe. Hold shape. It's warm here, so warm, so much caring, you made it better, you said you would and you did." He looked up through his hair, blinking. "I'm making you less comfortable. I'll have a bath."

"Thank you, Cole." Dorian sighed. There was really no use denying that he was more on-edge now. If Cole was here, of his own volition, what did that mean for the boy? Or the Inquisition? He'd left and made his home back in Minrathous because it had been his goal from the beginning, to try and corral and then eventually snuff out the gross abuse of power among his countrymen. It was going slowly, but it was going, and that was what was important.

But he'd missed Cole, and he knew it would be better for them both with him here. So it was a warm spot in the middle of the tension.

"When you've finished, I would appreciate a favor." He snapped his fingers, and a bell near the door rang, summoning one of the younger staff to come in without hesitation. "Please, introduce yourself." He gestured to the elvhen woman with a kind smile, and she looked somewhat bewildered until she looked over at Cole and startled badly at spotting him, though her mind was struggling to lock onto him.

Cole hesitated for a moment. After so long on the run, it was instinct to hide, to keep himself from being noticed and keep people from remembering, so he couldn't be traced by either of them.

Then he made himself grip onto reality, toes curling in his shoes as if to hold onto here. "Hello. I'm Cole. I was with the Inquisition, but I'm not now."

Of course, the effect was spoiled by the fact he was bedraggled and half hiding behind Dorian.

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PSL: Dorian

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