Char: Dorian & Val'Aishlym

Summary: ...He idly wonders if it was love at first sight...

Roots: Enter The Mage

The There & Then

Then,

He watched the pale elf nock back an arrow with a wince then hold the position. What exactly he was aiming at, the mage did not know.

The longer he observed, the less he believed he was actually aiming at anything. The elf would nock an arrow back, hold that position, relax his position, then rinse and repeat. Dorian, with his arms cross his chest and hand fondling his chin, turned his gaze to the right to see that Solas was also observing the elf's behavior, but instead of looking as confused as Dorian was feeling, he just looked curious.

Dorian dropped his hands to his side and approached the other mage. "What in the Maker's name is he doing? Is it some type of elven training? An arm thing?" Dorian asked. Solas cut his eyes to the other mage with a raised brow.

"It is an archer thing, not an elven thing," Solas answered. "I suspect the mark on his hand is painful. He is trying to work through that pain to better grip his bow," Solas crossed his arms. "After the initial shock wore off, I'm guessing so did the adrenaline that came with it. His marksmanship had steadily been growing worse as time passed,"

"Odd, I did not really see much of a change," Dorian mumbled.

"One cannot judge change if one has not seen the beginning. You have seen the now, but you have not seen the then." Solas responded. "Watch yourself," Solas suddenly commanded, a light veil of blue light surrounding them.

Dorian had already spotted the stray arrow coming towards them before Solas had even said anything. Before the arrow could strike the barrier, it was reduced to ashes in a puff of smoke.

The elven Herald who had – who Dorian hoped had mistakenly let the arrow go, was giving him a look. He looked….disgusted?

"I get the feeling he's not too happy the arrow did not find its mark…" Dorian mumbled to Solas.

"I am not sure what has upset him," Solas said with a shrug. "Maybe he heard us speaking of him?"

"Elf ears are that good? We're not exactly within earshot of him – are we?" Dorian looked at Solas but the man had already began to walk away. "Interesting," Dorian hummed, returning his gaze to the Herald. The elf had turned away and resumed his previous 'practice'.

After a while of observing the elf, Dorian decided to make his way over to him. "What a marvelous stance you have," Dorian commented as the elf nocked back another arrow. The elf cut his eyes to Dorian with a frown.

"What do you have to compare to? I thought you were a mage," the elf grunted as he relaxed his position. He brought his hand up that held the mark, causing it to glow brightly. Dorian crossed his arms.

"Well, there's that dwarf – what's his name….Varric," Dorian smirked. "And also every other archer within these walls…and there is also the many hundreds of archers we've already come in contact with and possibly will always come in contact with,"

"Isn't he the one that uses a crossbow?" Val'Aishlym asked. "You do realize a bow and a crossbow are different,"

"Ah, yes, yes….the size of the arrow, the size of the bow," Dorian moved his hand around in a circular motion. "Not so very different but different. And the archers within and outside these walls?"

"If you are that bored, why do you not go bother someone else," Val'Aishlym nocked an arrow again. Dorian raised an eyebrow.

"I apologize. I did not realize I was being a bother. I was genuinely fascinated by your stance."

"Go find something else to fascinate you." the elf gave Dorian a dirty look.

"That's a little unfair – you are by far the most interesting person I've come in contact with since I got here. I would never settle for anything less," Dorian grinned. Val'Aishlym dropped the bow and the arrow. Dorian raised an eyebrow as the elf turned completely to face him, pulling the quiver off his back. Dorian hadn't noticed this earlier, but the elf was quite….pretty, for lack of a better word. Pale face, wide crimson eyes, high cheek bones, delicate nose, and smallish mouth – the light green tattoos under his eyes did well to bring out…well his eyes.

"That's odd, you are the most annoying person I've come in contact with since I got here – and I've had the displeasure of dealing with Cassandra for days. I would settle for less," Val'Aishlym huffed before walking away, cussing under his breath. Dorian wished he understood elvhen, he was sure what was coming from the small elf would be highly amusing. Instead, he just smirked as he watched the grumbling elf walk away.