Ahhh, my first Dragon Age fanfiction. I'm guilty because I refused to play the first two games, and then my cousin forced me to play Inquisition. I'm so guilty, I thought it'd be a rip off of Skyrim but it's way better. ;-; Forgive me, everyone – I was naïve LOL

But at any rate, I'm glad to apart of the fandom now, and my fandom just got serious because now I'm writing fanfiction. Even Skyrim can't say that I wrote…ok, well I tried once sometime before Dragonborn came out but I failed miserably. (Please, forgive Skyrim fans, please forgive)

So the writing prompt I got (because I had nothing) was courtesy of my best friend. I introduced her to my game whilst romancing Dorian, and she said:

"You should do a fanfiction about Dorian and him playing strip poker."

I told her: "There is no strip poker, but there's wicked grace. It's basically the same, I think – though I'm rather vague on the subject."

"Then you should try that."

The moral of the story children? Never get on drugs…

Stay weird; be feared…alright, now things are…now – onto this shit before things get awkward…(not that they weren't already)

(I am using my own character, not just "the inquisitor" – saying that word is redundant and it annoys me)

With Varric gone, Corypheus defeated, and no action going on in foreldan the Inquisitor didn't have anything to do besides sit in his boredom. He could easily read the same books he's read one million times (which in the amount of time he's had idly lately it seems that all the books, in the lower library, he could recite cover to cover), practice his spells, or even spend time idly talking to people around the inquisition…

This gets old; however, and after a few months of a tiresome amount of "nothing" it tends to grind on the nerves. As he sat in his quarters, his eyes settled on the book laid out across the room. It was sprawled, the pages shifting back and forth as a result of the breeze drifting from the open balconies on either side of the large room.

Beautiful carpet marked his room, the bed with a soft plush sense to it that marked relaxation when he lay down at night.

The couch he was currently sitting on was also nice, and he preferred to sit here when idle than anywhere else in his quarters.

After the defeat of Corypheus, a couple of advisers suggested a mirror in the Inquisitor's room. So every now and again, when the elf passed it he saw the great scar he loathed.

The inquisitor's hair was long and blonde, tied back in one ponytail that held up only a small chunk of his hair. Before he left his clan, he was an apprentice…of the leading mage in his clan. His favorite past time was studying, and he loved a wide variety of learning techniques that he utilized even by himself on himself. He was a mage, of course, and his academics were just one of the many things he enjoyed.

When he was young, he would be constantly urged by his mentor to take on more and learn from his mistakes. He remembered the scent of tobacco from the nights when he would sit alone with his mentor in the study.

The inquisitor's eyes had changed, they were once the coloration of a lion's mane, the coloration fading into a deep crimson that marked beauty beyond normality. His eyes were his most distinguishable feature beyond his ears. Yes, his ears – which were long and spiked, and signature of the elven kind…but that is a different topic. Moreover, his eyes used to be this coloration, until he'd been given the anchor. Then…for some reason they changed, and he found the middle of his irises were now golden green, and that coloration faded unto a red. Mayhaps it was a mark that the Anchor left on him internally and out, or otherwise – it was just something that occurred after leaving the fade.

He knew not, but left the question open…for something told him he didn't wish to know.

Deciding on leaving, he sighed out in exasperation to the creators.

He decided on taking his own route down, settling on walking the hall down and back to the inquisition's hall.

This place had been long since brought to its formal glory, and with the inquisitor's help – had even been upgraded properly. Ah, but moreover we should get to his name, no?

The inquisitor was known by his clan as Suladin(1).

Still, he seemed to never be referred to by anything but inquisitor from most…

The only two who called him otherwise were Solas and Varric. His closest companions…

But after the Veil was closed Solas disappeared…

At first he mourned the loss of his close companion, but was glad to have Varric around to play a game of Wicked Grace every-now-and-again.

When Varric went back to the routes; however, the inquisitor was lost in nothing but "inquisitor" once more. Something about the title when he first got it was shining…he loved it, craved it, cherished it like a man with a prized jewel…but then it weighed on him… (2)

So many lives in his hands, and so many decisions that effected too much…

Soon the Jewel became a bane to him, the name giving him a sense of honest-to-creators hatred. He loathed the name, and it became something that he would flinch internally at…

Slowly the name rotted his core to a point where he had to keep himself from scowling every time he was called by it.

Cassandra, Sera, any of them…he hated them for calling him it. He was grateful when Sera began calling him something else. She had a way of reading him more than most.

As he wandered, he felt himself being called by a strange force to the table across the way. Sitting down and situating himself, he found his hands settling on the table as he sighed. It was always this time when Varric and him would play wicked grace, and just as he was about to get lost in thought a familiar voice pulled him out of it.

"You know, I never really noticed you in this solitude before, not before Corypheus was defeated of course…" The smooth voice of Dorian Pavus grew nearer.

"So you have noticed me?" He chooses the route of "let's flirt" with Dorian a lot. Seemed to be a typical fall back for him when they spoke. Dorian wasn't with the bull; they'd broken up sometime after the defeat of Corypheus wherein they had some sort of dispute. Things ended harshly, and the Inquisitor had to deal with them both to get them to straighten their attitudes out…

Because they both made it miserable for everyone when everyone went out as a party. He liked to rotate privileges, and not favor. He had a spreadsheet on which missions he'd task himself with, and whenever he left it would be a new order. It would change every time he left skyhold. It gave him a well-rounded team, rather than one that was lacking in certain departments.

The only issue was that some…didn't get along. The inquisitor was an inadvertent smart ass, but at least he attempted to co-inside with those who didn't always agree to his…behavior.

Darian's eyes grew dark, glinting, as he said no more on the subject. Usually Dorian had everything to say, but for now he stalked around dramatically. His figure was strapping, blocking out the firelight temporarily before he settled down across the table. "Hoping for a game of wicked grace are we?"

"I hope you mean the card game, because you can take that another way-" Suladin's eyes glinted right back.

"Oh you are glorious-" He gave a returning dark laugh, before he continued. "You know, your flirtations haven't exactly gone unnoticed, Amatus-"

"Truly? And here I thought I was being subtle-" He responded idly.

Dorian drawled, "Do I detect the usual return of Sarcasm?" The rhetorical question led to a quick suggestion, "You know…I have noticed you enjoy a game of wicked grace or two…and I'm not exactly to bad at it myself…that said, I will only agree to play if we attempt a different fashion of…betting…"

"You have my attention." Suladin responded.

Dorian's lip curled, "I thought I might, which is why I took the liberty of coming up with something more primal. Instead of betting coin…let's…bet each other."

"Oh?" He leaned further across the table, palms settling shakily down on the wood.

"It's a simple game really…and It came to me while watching Cullen fail miserably at beating Josephine…I say…if you lock the door, we might be able to be alone long enough to do the same-"

"Bet our clothes."

"And more than that if we have none left."

"One article of clothing at a time, then." Suladin smirked, deciding to put Dorian in a situation where he was the teased rather than the tease, "And thereafter, whomever wins…decides where we go next."

"Uhg one article at a time? You are pushing even might limits…" Dorian's tone was fake and dramatic, but his eyes were hooded now. The Inquisitor was imagining the male must have been considering what he would look like without the silver studded clothes that he wore.

"I only said we had to bet articles of clothing, I never said we had to keep our hands to ourselves-" His lips curled deviously.

"If that were the case I'm not sure I would be able to finish the game before we ventured into the more primal portion of our urges-"

"Well then, the tease will have to be teased-" (3)

After the Inquisitor took time locking up the door with magical means, they ventured into the game. As time wore on, the inquisitor was none-to-pleased at Dorian's tactics. It wasn't long before the Inquisitor was naked already, and somehow Dorian managed to take off the littlest portions of his clothes so that his chest and southern goods were still covered by the time Suladin was in his birthday suite.

"Tease, as ever." Suladin remarked at one point later.

"Winner, actually." Dorian responded in turn.

When they laid down their hand, Suladin scowled. "I shouldn't have taken your damn bluff."

"But you did." He said, "Which means…" His hand slid up the other's barren leg. "We're going to have some fun…"

Any brooding response he may have had was lost in lust immediately. "You know-" Dorian somehow managed to get around the table and claim the inquisitor under his sculpted body. "It would be truly naughty for the Inquisitor to wander to his quarters naked…"

"And here I thought you'd prefer if you were the only one who saw me like this-" He panted, as Dorian's mouth came down on his neck, teasingly trailing kisses all the way down his chest.

"Oh that's for certain, I was just claiming…that we should stay in here quite a bit longer…mayhaps…get acquainted with one another, you know I never truly got to know you well enough in my eyes-"

"And how do I look in your eyes now?" Came the hoarse response, followed shortly by a loud moan.

A low growl came from the one in control, "If I had words to describe my extreme approval of how you look…" He smirks, "I would say them-"

"Oh D-" This statement was cut off as well, for the male had just gotten off the remainder of his clothing…and was now working down on the Inquisitor's length.

.

.

.

.

.

They lay on the floor panting, Dorian settled still between his legs. The inquisitor felt crushed beneath his weight, but it was a grand feeling. "You know, it might take more than one day to clean up some of the stains we left on the floor here."

"Say it's milk, they'll believe it considering it's a kitchen-"

"Yeah, about that-" Dorian knew exactly where the Inquisitor was going with this statement, "I might need to get a new supply of food considering we just had sex in the same room as…well, the food."

"We never touched it." Dorian's crooked smile warmed Suladin to his core, and just as the inquisitor was about to respond with something several bangs on the door told them that someone was attempting to get into the kitchen.

One glance exchanged told them to get dressed and get out. Only after they were out of the room did Suladin break the magic that locked the door shut. He forgot about the jizz on the floor…completely.

The only reason why I didn't get in depth with the sexual intercourse is because of the fucking Eliminators. If you all are reading this shit, you can kiss my damn ass…this is on behalf of everyone that is writing fanfiction. BTW – you guys are the reason why I'm on the waiting list for Archive of our Own.

Oh – to my fans, if you guys are reading this – you'll eventually find me there on Archive once I get off the waiting list. ^_^ When the time comes you'll find my profile and these stories will be up and running with full potential. (that includes sexual interaction)

1. Suladin – Although I based this character around the parameters of my original, this wasn't the name of him. Solas was, ironically, the original name of my character from the first play through – only because I wanted to have a name of Elven origin. Naturally I found Solas (meaning standing proud) so I gave him that. Then I laughed, and so it was a running joke for me thereafter. In this cause though, I thought it wasn't particularly my favorite idea…

2. This actually is sticking to my character, in fact one time my character claimed he wasn't used to the title to Cullen. Once, I had the chance to be called something other than the Inquisitor to Varric. "I just need a friend", in lay mans terms – that was the start of Wicked Grace.

3. This was based around a running joke that everyone knows.