'Do you think he hears you?'
Errol leaned against the door frame, interrupting the holy silence. In front of him, Dorian was on knee in front of a statue of Andraste.
'Do dalish have no reverence for prayer?' His voice came out raw and startled.
Errol wondered if he had walked in on Dorian crying. There were some things they didn't share with each other, feelings seemed to be a big one.
'I'm sorry,' Errol unhitched himself from the door frame. 'I can leave, if you wish.
'I don't,' Dorian stood, wiping his cheeks with his the back of his hand. 'Believe he hears me, that is.'
He and Errol walked through the garden together. With Dorian and Errol companionship becoming more and more frequent, people had been staring less and less. Errol had to admit, he was going to miss the scandalized gossip.
'If you don't believe he hears you, why do you pray?'
Dorian thought, as he did, his gaze wandered around the garden. There had been a few protests when Errol decided to make it a garden for herbs and roots rather than a homage to Andraste. Now, with wildflowers in bloom, and the small crop coming in quickly. He could see what it was Errol had in mind when he had first planned it.
'Do you have gods you pray to?' Errol smiled, he rarely got to talk of his own gods and took any chance he got.
'Of course. I often ask Anduril to guide my arrows, she never fails me.'
'Do you ever ask them for guidance?' Dorian looked down at the elf. His eyes, green as the garden around them, shone back. Taking in the somber mood, he frowned at the human.
Errol wondered if he should admit, that every night he prayed that Mythal would look after everyone in his charge. He wondered if Dorian would feel better if he know that often his prayers reduced to bouts of anger and tears as he screamed at his gods.
'Whatever it is, Dorian, I'm always here to listen.'
'With ears that big, I should hope so.'
Dorian laughed when Errol lunged for him, his quick hands getting in a punch before Dorian held his arms in surrender.
'Damn shem,' Errol struggled to be angry, his laughter breaking through the scowl.