TITLE: Dorian
CHAPTER: 1, If I Loved You
"If I loved you
Time and again I would try to say
All I'd want you to know
If I loved you
Words wouldn't come in an easy way
Round in circles I'd go
Longin' to tell you but afraid and shy
I'd let my golden chances pass me by
Soon you'd leave me
Off you would go in the mist of day
Never, never to know
How I love you, if I loved you."
Circe
He found me on the balcony outside my quarters. I needed time to think and just now, time alone proved elusive. Exhausted after the battle that led to our final victory over Corypheus and confused about my future role here in Skyhold, I admit to hiding. Although the campaign ended five days ago, fatigue and lethargy stayed with me through the long ride home. Sleep, when I could find it and slow my mind from its racing thoughts, didn't come easily.
He walked toward me with his usual strut, resplendent in new black armor that showed off his lean strength. I couldn't help but return his grin. I never could, Dorian Pavus, my friend, my confidant and the man to whom I'd stupidly lost my heart.
"The whole bloody town is waiting for you, Inquisitor. The soldiers all lined up in their tacky uniforms and shiny weapons. The washerwomen, blacksmith, the Elves all dressed up in their dreary robes, and the Southern mages are in excellent form. Now, come along. They're waiting for you," he said placing a shawl over my shoulders.
I shivered at his touch. It's not that I don't want to celebrate. It's my duty as the Inquisitor to go out there and say a few words. Like thank you, and you're all so brave and all that, but exhaustion dragged me down and exposed my emotions. Rather thoughtlessly, I replied, "You'll protect me, won't you?"
"Only with my life." I heard the smile in his tone as he smoothed the expensive silk shawl and rested his hands on my shoulders.
"You don't have to go quite that far." What a thoughtless thing to say. All of us, Dorian and I included had saved each other's lives many times.
When he turned me around and tucked me under his chin, I let myself relax against his broad chest. I decided to allow myself a moment. Just one moment and that would be enough. My eyes drifted closed. What would it be like to wake this way, with him, my head on his chest and his arms around me?
"You're such a complicated mix of a scholar and leader. When you look at me the way you are now, I see the young girl you were never allowed to be."
"Never wanted to be," I corrected him quickly. "You see too much."
"Yes, but you allow it. You trust me. Yes? Don't run away, this time, Circe. Always running back and forth and up and down checking on everyone."
"Everyone but you, is that it?"
"What troubles you?" The concern in his eyes is genuine, and I want to lean into it, but the consequences of revealing myself would prove too painful to bear. During the endless days of campaigning, he's been a good friend, and it was easy to hide the depth of my feelings. The need to stay alive long enough to close the Breach and end Corypheus made it simple to focus on the issues as they arose. Now, with peace and sufficient time to start living again, attempting to hide my love for him seemed awkward and useless. What good would it to me, anyway? Merely embarrass us both, of that I am sure. At least, I could be truthful about one thing.
"Yesterday… I thought I might have lost you in the Fade."
"I was right behind you. You were never out of my sight." He moved his hands to smooth back my hair. "I should have asked. Are you alright?"
"No, it was… I knew what I needed to accomplish. I couldn't see you. It was terrifying." I had to put some distance between us. I moved down the cold balustrade as if to gain a better vantage point. Over my shoulder, I said, "I'm okay. Don't worry about me," my laughter sounded forced. If I could hear it, he certainly could. "I'm the Inquisitor, right? And you'd never ask a man that question."
"Quite correct my little bluestocking and I would never tell a man how I think about winding my fingers through the riot of curls you keep so tightly braided. Circe, have you ever allowed a man to unbraid your hair?"
"Certainly not. Isn't that your department?" I answered back, but our usual banter was absent tonight, and my attempt at humor fell flat.
"What are you suggesting? And how shall I respond? That you're the most attractive man, I've ever met. The only man I've thought about…" A blush crept up over my chest and neck. He watched the flush travel over the exposed flesh of my upper breasts exposed by this damn dress. Created out of black velvet and embroidered with colors of red and blue it's a beautiful dress. In my ears hang precious gems of blue that match my eyes. Heavy against my breasts lies necklace of braided gold set with a stone the same as those in my ears. Josephine and Liliana talked me into wearing this flimsy thing. I think they hid my usual uniform of leather coat, leggings, and boots.
"Ah, there's the blush I long to see." He tilted my chin up and repeated my statement. "Thought about…? Say it."
The conversation just took a turn I hadn't expected. So much for taking control. Come on Inquisitor, be in control.
"The things I've missed."
"And what you have you missed? You're a well-trained mage, the best education, and now fame, wealth and a line of handsome suitors. Ah, I think I know what it is. The night's festivities, the successes of the last months heated your cool interior. Ah, I suspect a proper Trevelyan lady saves herself for marriage. Yes?"
"You enjoy making me blush."
"No trail of broken hearts? No secret kisses in dark hallways? As I suspected, you've never even been kissed. Yes? Not Bull, or Cullen or Hawk, then? No?"
I clenched the frozen balustrade until my fingers ached with cold.
"You go too far, Mage. Men don't kiss girls who keep their noses buried in books or closeted away practicing their magic."
"Tsk! Most men don't know what's under their very noses. Now, finish your thought. The only man you've ever thought about…?"
"The only man I've allowed this close. There. Happy? Sadly, I'm not your type. So why don't you take your pick of one of those handsome dandies in the main hall and leave me to my gloomy thoughts? I'll come down shortly, say a few words, then I'm going to bed."
The opening notes of a waltz floated through the night air. Dorian placed a chaste hand on my back and took my hand. He waited for me to relax then whirled me around the balcony. When we arrived at the far end overlooking the mountains, he stopped but didn't let go of me. Then he bent down and whispered in my ear.
"Those men hold no interest for me tonight. Has no one told you how beautiful you are?"
He's looking at me so earnestly. I can hardly meet his eyes. If I do, I'll give myself away, and that would only embarrass us both. I don't want to lose my friend. I'd never been very good at making friends. Of female friends I had none. When Dorian joined the Inquisition and extended the hand of friendship to me, I accepted it gratefully. I hadn't taken into account that I'd left my childhood in Ostwick. The woman I became fell hard for the man she could never have.
We saved each other's lives, fought side-by-side, laughed together, shared books and many nights talked until sunrise. I know about his relationship with his father, just as he knows all about my family. We're both just tired with all the fuss and the reaction of the war finally ending, and he's not himself.
"You don't have to compliment me, Dorian. I know I'm not what you find attractive."
Then both his hands are on my face again. "Circe, look at me. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever known. Beautiful inside, with your fierce courage and intellect and outside with eyes the color of a summer sky and hair dark as night."
"Stop wasting those compliments," I said pushing him. Then he made a sound, something between a groan of anger and what? Frustration? Then his lips touched mine for my first kiss. I turned away and shivered when his mustache tickled my cheek. "Dorian, you don't have to."
I would gladly share all my first times with him, but I can't let him know that. He's bending his head to kiss me again. As much as I want this, I must put a stop to it.
"It is my pleasure. Now come here and kiss me properly."
"I don't know how."
"Circe! Let me give you this. Let me be your love tonight."
Tears burned my eyes and slipped down my cheeks He tasted them with lips whisper-soft across my cheek. What had my father called them, butterfly kisses? His hands pushed my dress off my shoulders, and he gripped my upper arms. His voice is surprisingly demanding, "What is it? Your hands grip me, yet you push me away, and now you're crying. Something I've never seen you do!"
I'm so tired and ready to be done with all of it. I want to go back to Ostwick, my horses, my tutors, and books. My own brand of frustration rose up in me, and I lashed out at him.
"Don't you understand, Dorian? It's always been you. You're the one I imagine with his hands in my hair, undressing me, teaching me. A little boy with black hair and green eyes who visits my dreams. But you're my friend, and I can't lose that. I won't!"
I pushed myself away from him. Now, I've ruined everything by admitting all that. I blame Andraste for putting all these womanly needs in us. Damn her and damn me for letting it slip.
His body is curved as if I were still in his arms. With his fists clenched, he watched me move away with narrow eyes. I'm only making this worse with my silly behavior.
"So when you joked about being the logical choice for my wife you were serious."
"I'm sorry. I never meant for us to have this conversation. Never wanted to change you."
Straightening, he looked at me with wonder. "We would be so good together."
"Yes, we are good friends. But you can't be serious. Would you expect me to understand your needs? I understand them now, of course. As your wife, I'm not so sure I could share you. Not at all sure, I could sit home while you indulge yourself in the local bathhouse because I do love you, Dorian. To me, marriage means faith, trust, and loyalty. We have that here."
Tears threatened to fall while all my promises and self-control dissolved. I almost lost him yesterday. I could lose him tomorrow. I could no more stop my tears then my feelings for this beautiful man.
"You would be a faithful wife… is that what you're saying?"
I just nodded while he dried my tears with his fingers.
"And the mother of your children," I smiled at the thought. "Marrying me would make your parents happy, and improve your standing in the community. We could go to Tevinter together and work on those changes you spoke of."
"What about that screaming, Dorian? Could you listen to that year after year and still love me?"
"I don't know… Don't be so damn logical!"
"Here in Skyhold, in this world we, created for ourselves we can be this close. But not in Ostwick and not in Tevinter."
"Circe! With you by my side, we could make those changes. We wouldn't have to conform. We would set the tone in Tevinter society and set those Magisters on their collective asses!"
My fists pounded on the black leather of his armor. Andraste's gifts, he's solid and unyielding. All I can think of is giving in to the desire to let him kiss me, touch me and believe in what he says. But this is nothing but a fallacy, and I reached for the strength I'd found so many times and pushed against him.
"And when I'm heavy and misshapen with child and the screaming is too loud. When your needs drove you from the softness of my woman's flesh to that of a man's?"
"Stop it!"
His fingers bit into my upper arms. I reached for him squeezing my fingers into the leather over his biceps. We glared into each other's eyes, anger, while unspent emotion spilled over us. With a fury so primal I couldn't tell if it were his spell or mine. Magic crawled along my skin and weakened me so I could hardly stand.
"Then what?" I shouted into his face. "I hear you talk about how married couples despise each other in the Tevinter noble houses. Would you teach me to hate you?"
"Don't! Circe. I can't…" he shook his head as if to deny my words. Then it happened. The evening's twilight exploded with green fire. Searing pain skipped across my muscles, pinning me to the stone balcony and ripping a scream from my throat. He cried out, too and raised his hands, while anger and frustration faded into something else. I couldn't read him. But I could always read him.
"Dorian," I shouted doubting I made any sound at all. Darkness crept across my vision blinding me with creeping tendrils of death.
I'd ruined everything, and it was my fault.
"If I Loved You" –Rodgers and Hammerstein, Carousel