Author's Note: Yes, I'm back and I wrote a short piece on Dorian and the Inquisitor.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age, this is owned by Bioware.

Safe Harbor

Maxwell Trevelyan spent most of his childhood and adolescence believing that as a mage, he did not deserve to have a soul mark. It wasn't until he became the Herald of Andraste, a deity he wasn't entirely sure he believed in that his opinion on the matter changed. Fortunately, his apathy towards the Maker only seemed to bother Cassandra. Everyone else took it in stride.

"And it's not like I'm saying that the Maker doesn't exist, I just don't take everything at face value."

"You'll have to excuse the Seeker," Varric said. "She's always been grumpy. It's in her nature."

"I heard that!" Cassandra tartly replied.

They walked to their destination in silence. It wasn't until after he finished speaking to Alexius that Cassandra voiced her opinion.

"We cannot let this stand!"

"I know," he replied. "However, we need to find a way to help the other mages. Hopefully Felix will have some ideas when we meet him."

Then walked they in on a rather attractive man, taking down sloth demons. "Oh, there you are. Now help me close this."

Max stopped. Was this man really…? "Are you here to help us."

"In a manner of speaking," he said.

After they closed the crack, he hoped Dorian would say something that might hint that his suspicions were true. Unfortunately, the object of his desire did not talk about anything besides Alexius and Felix. And then they got thrown into the future, and he focused simply on staying alive. It wasn't until after they brought the mages back to Haven that they finally found time to chat.

"Are you enjoying the party?" he inquired.

"It is rather interesting to see how you Southerners party, although there isn't any decent wine around here."

"You could always dance with me?" Max offered.

Dorian shook his head. "I'll pass. Besides what would your advisors think of the Tevinter mage corrupting their precious Herald."

"They'll survive." He was about to ask Dorian about his words, when the Red Templars attacked.

When he finally staggered into the camp, it was Dorian who threw his arms around him and yelled. "Don't ever do that to me again!"

"Um… Dorian you're squeezing my rib cage."

"Oh, sorry." He let go of his grip and offered an arm, which Max gratefully clasped. He sat and fell asleep by the campfire.

It wasn't until they arrived in Skyhold and he settled in that he asked Dorian. "Do you have my words?"

"I was starting to think you would never ask. I even wondered if I read the situation wrong." Dorian rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing Max's writing. "So where are my words on you?"

Max blushed, and unbuttoned the ridiculous shirt that his advisors insisted he wear. "Right here." He pointed to the left side of torso.

Dorian gently traced the words. He reached forward and pressed his lips to Max. Just as Max was starting to relax and enjoy the kiss, he broke it off.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

"Dorian, you are hot, funny, and one of the bravest mages I know. Any man would be lucky to have you."

Dorian blushed.

"Speechless, I see."

"I never thought I'd be able to have an actual relationship."

"Neither did I," Max replied. "And yet here we are." He'd finally found his safe harbor, his handsome and talented soulmate.