The hand on Blackwall's shoulder startled him, and the book went flying, landing with a loud thump on the floor. A warm chuckle filled his ear. For a moment Blackwall swore he felt fingers sliding against his neck.
"Reading something interesting?" Dorian's laughing voice asked from behind him. Blackwall didn't have to glance up to know the look on the man's face. That damned eyebrow,.
"Just... uh... something from, er, by Varric," Blackwall cursed himself for stumbling over his words, and hoped the mage would chalk it up to embarrassment over reading drivel and not embarrassment over... well. He didn't want to finish that train of thought. Better he didn't have to explain himself. Blackwall stood to recover the book before Dorian could reach it.
"Oh? A little murder and mystery? Some thrilling tale of champions and heroic battles?"
Blackwall snagged the book from between two hay bales and tucked it into his jacket. "Something like that."
He turned back to find Dorian leaning against the nearest horse stall. It was a new horse, a tall regal breed from Tevinter. Blackwall suspected the Inquisitor had it brought especially for the mage. They had taken an immediate shine to one another, as if the horse knew they shared a homeland. Dorian had been down to the stables a lot since it arrived.
The horse whuffled against the nape of Dorian's neck, and for a moment a soft look of fondess passed across Dorian's face. Blackwall felt his lips twist into a smile, and coughed to cover it. It was rare to see Dorian without a mask of superiority, but the more he got to know the man, the more he realized that's all it was. A mask. Still-
"I never pegged you for someone who would care so for an animal," Blackwall raised his own eyebrow, "or the stables that go along with it."
"No? You fail to see how I would admire such a stallion of breeding and extreme beauty?"
The stallion shook it's head, as if it knew it was being spoken of, tossing a mane of shining, rich black hair.
"Ah," Blackwall said, "I see it now." His voice dripped with sarcasm, but he actually did see the resemblance. Not that he'd give Dorian the satisfaction of knowing so. Dorian liked to joke about being the product of fine breeding, but it didn't make it any less true. The man was... spectacular. Blackwall shifted his weight, foot to foot, aware they were just standing there. Looking at one another. "Well, I have to get back to..."
"Whittling?" Dorian stepped closer to him, and Blackwall froze, not expecting the warm, spicy scent of the man or how his closeness seemed to affect gravity. Dorian's hand took advantage to slip into his coat, retrieving the book faster than Blackwall thought imaginable. Though in hindsight, he should've expected it. He'd seen the mage move on the battlefield. Like a dancer, that one.
Dorian's handsome face looked confused, staring at the cover of the book, not too different from the time he'd eaten one of Sera's cookies. They'd been... odd. Not bad, just not what one expected from cookies.
"Is this new? I haven't... you're reading this?"
Dorian still stood too close to him, but Blackwall couldn't bring himself to take a step back.
"Varric finished it a few days ago. Asked me to read it."
"I see. And what do you think of it?"
They both stared down at the book in Dorian's hand, the cover very similar in style to Varric's Swords & Shields series. It even had a similar title. Swords & Staves. There was one major change. The tall redheaded woman from the previous series had been replaced.
"I... it's interesting." Blackwall wondered if he was blushing. Thank the Maker for his beard.
"Is it?" Dorian's finger traced down the prominent staff on the cover, a glistening snake circled around it, fangs bared.
It wasn't the staff or snake that made Blackwall laugh gruffly. "Do you want to read it?"
Dorian's fingers were now traveling over the shadowed image behind the staff. In the image, the staff was held out by a dark haired mage. The mage's other arm curled around the waist of a bearded, burly warrior; gripping him just as tightly as the snake did the staff. Dorian tapped at the mage's second hand, pressed to the center of the warrior's bare chest.
"I might. Just how interesting did you find it?"
Blackwall opened his mouth to answer, but only one word came out. "Very."
"I wouldn't want to deprive you of reading it yourself, then." Dorian laughed, flipping through the book, "No diagrams? I'm disappointed. I could add those for you, if you wished." He pressed the book back into Blackwall's hands, holding for a split second longer than necessary. "Or perhaps you'd prefer a demonstration?"
"No." Blackwall felt the word come out more violently than he'd intended.
"Oh not by me, I was thinking more along the lines of the Iron Bull? Two strong warriors-"
"Dorian," Blackwall growled, cutting him off.
"I do like when you say my name. Much better than 'that mage'," Dorian's smile was teasing. He stepped back towards the stallion's stall, opening the gate. "Do let me know when you finish it. I would be very interested to discuss any thoughts you might have."
Dorian led the magnificent animal out into the sunshine, heading towards the pasture Dennet's newly cleared pasture.
"Oh, and one more thing," he called over his shoulder, "if you see Varric, tell him I'd like to speak to him please."
Blackwall didn't answer as he watched them go. He felt as if he'd just eaten one of Sera's cookies himself. His stomach had an unsettled feeling, much as it did anytime Sera fed him something. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and settled back down, thumbing to the page he'd been on when Dorian had startled him. Ah, here it was. Just getting to the good part. They could make fun of Cassandra all they wanted, but that Varric did have a way with words.