" 'And what would humans be without love?'
RARE, said Death" - Terry Pratchett

Typical. Dorian thought as he hurried out the library and off to his room. It was typical that a week after one pain, the next one arrived… and it naturally had to arrive in the beak of one of those blasted birds.

Felix had died.

The young man had been ill, of course. He had known he was dying and had been remarkably unafraid of the fact… but Dorian hadn't been prepared.

The mage heaved his heavy door open, slipped inside and shoved it shut again. He didn't want to be disturbed. No one would care that a good man had gone to the Maker. He was from Tevinter after all, and Southerners were utterly unable to look beyond that to the fact that one or two people who hailed from that country were capable of good acts.

A tear trickled down his cheek as he sat on the edge of his bed. He thought of Felix's bright smile as he brought Dorian snacks; he thought of the young man's friendship even though he knew of Dorian's… different tastes; he thought of how Felix had been the first person to accept him for who he was and remain an honest friend.

He sighed, shuddering as his breath caught on the lump in his throat.

No one here would care. And now, Dorian was alone. He battled his misery, trying to convince himself he wasn't alone. Krem was from Tevinter, and while the man didn't particularly like Dorian, he wasn't openly aggressive towards him; then there was Bull who, for unfathomable reasons, was actually very fond of him; there was Lavellan, who still smiled at despite how horrible he had been towards her when they had encountered his father; there was even Cole, who liked him well enough, even if he did tend to blurt out things that ought to have been private.

Even with his ability to list his friends here, or perhaps because he was aware they fit onto the digits on one hands, Dorian felt alone. He curled his knees into his chest and rolled away from the door, pressing his face into the damp smell of his mattress. The straw would need replacing soon, but he was putting it off, unsure of how to go about changing it.

A scraping noise caught his attention, but he didn't move. He was a little surprised the Iron Bull had noticed he was missing so soon.

"I'm not the Iron Bull." Cole's confused voice broke up the silence, and Dorian sat up.

"Are you alright, Cole?" wondering if the boy needed something. He didn't tend to wander into people's rooms.

"I am." But he stepped forwards and awkwardly looped his arms around Dorian's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his own hands coming up to Cole's shoulders to steady him.

"You're lonely." Cole pulled back and gave him a worried frown. "Varric said hugs remind people that they are not alone, so I thought I would help… I can go and get the Iron Bull if he can help better than me?"

Dorian very much wanted Bull's arms wrapped around him, but he didn't want to tell Cole that.

"You'll do just fine. Come here." He opened his arms aide, and managed to smile when Cole tumbled into them.

"I don't like it when you hurt." Cole softly told him, as though imparting a great secret.

"Of course not. We're friends." Dorian told him. "I don't like it when you're hurt either."

And he really didn't. He had been shouted at by one of the cooks a few weeks ago for trying to help her, then finding that with his new element of humanity, reversing his mistake was not as easy. The forlorn expression he had worn before Varric had consoled him had bothered Dorian. He had even considered trying to find something to say in an attempt to cheer the boy up.

"Oh." Cole replied, but when Dorian glanced down, the boy was grinning so widely that his face had to hurt. "I like having friends."

They sat together for a time, neither saying a word. Dorian wasn't sure how this was helping, after all the boy didn't know Felix, didn't care about him and certainly wouldn't mourn him, yet sitting here with the boy cuddled up with him was a comfort he didn't expect.

Tevinter certainly could do with more cuddles. Showing affection like this was considered weak, but perhaps it would do that society some good.

"Hey, Dorian?" Bull's voice called out, just before the wooden door was shoved wide enough for Bull to come through. "Well, what's going on in here?"

Cole laughed and jumped up. He grinned widely at Bull before running out, the large man shaking his head at him as a find expression melted onto his face.

"Felix died." He blurted out.

"Felix?" Bull sat down beside Dorian.

"Yeah. He was my friend and he was a good man." Dorian didn't want to go into details though.

"Fair enough. We staying here, or do you wanna go to the tavern?"

"I don't want to be a bore…" he hesitated, not wanting to leave. He felt safe in his room.

"Too late for that." Snorted Bull, before tugging Dorian into his lap.

"You don't mind?" He checked, placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"No."

And with that, Bull wrapped his arms around Dorian in a secure hold. Dorian leaned into the embrace and kissed him softly, allowing their lips to meet in a gentle embrace of their own. It was like someone had cast slow upon them, forcing them to take time in exploring the other's body, in allowing roaming hands to drift over flesh.

As he licked at the scar across Bull's mouth, the man peeled Dorian's shirt off, hands sure as they tugged at buckles. Already panting as though he had been spell-casting throughout the day, Dorian rubbed his smooth face along Bull's stumble, enjoying the rough scrape.

Though, his attention quickly moved to Bull's firm kneading of his buttocks.

"You're gonna have to get up." Bull grunted in his ear.

"No, like this." he whispered in reply, blood rushing hotly through his veins as he considered rutting like an animal in Bull's lap until he came in his trousers.

"Fine by me." Growled the Iron Bull, rocking his hips up hard enough that Dorian almost bounced.

Dorian whimpered as he gripped Bull's shoulder and bit his ear gently. He gasped as Bull's finger scratched down the seam that ran from the small of his back along the crease of his buttocks. As Dorian moaned, Bull did it again.

It was such a tease, but Dorian knew he wouldn't get much more than rubbing; Bull was a tad paranoid about injuring the mage. He leaned down and, like a mabari with a piece of fresh steak, bit at Bull's neck with some enthusiasm; he had no such paranoia about his lover.

He loved marking the man though. It sent a hot flare through him whenever he saw Bull with a faint mark the shape of his teeth. Not that he ever managed more than a faint mark, Bull's skin was as thick as Druffalo hide and didn't bruise easily. Even so, Dorian liked to try.

Back in Tevinter, his partners would as soon as danced naked in a room full of people than willingly wear such a statement on their skin… in fact, they probably would have preferred it to allowing Dorian to mark them.

And they called Ferelden backwards!

At least, most of them did. Most of them were arrogant and shallow and disinterested in being genuine in any way… but there were a few good people. A select few.

"You ok?"

"Yes, of course. Why have you stopped?" Dorian tried to frown at the large man, but it was surprisingly difficult in the face of such intent concern.

"I dunno. Guess I find it hard to continue when someone is crying."

"I'm not… huh. I guess I am." Dorian pulled back and turned away, trying to hide his face.

He had assumed he was done with crying over Felix… he had expected to be able to forget about it through sex, but apparently not.

"S-sorry." He said, bringing both hands up to cover his face, terribly aware that his makeup would have streaked down. "Fasta Vass! You c-can leave if you like."

There was silence for a moment, and Dorian found himself suddenly wishing that he hadn't said that. He didn't want Bull to see him so undone, but he didn't want the man to leave.

"You idiot." Bull sighed, before Dorian found himself being tugged against a broad chest. "You're allowed to cry when your friend has died."

"I thought I was done with crying for now." He answered, his voice breaking slightly with the words.

"You didn't think you'd be sad when your friend died?" Bull's voice was flat, doubtful.

"I- No, I knew I would be. But I did upset earlier on with Cole."

"So what? You only allowed to be upset once?" Bull's voice was still oddly flat. Dorian didn't like it.

"No! Wait. Yes!" He shifted, bringing his hands down to glare at his lover through his tears. "I cried once when I left home. It was the first night after I had actually left Tevinter and everything was so different and too real. So I cried…. Then I had a drink or two… but I got over it and I didn't cry again."

"Uh-huh."

"So, when Felix died… I didn't expect to get upset. I haven't seen him in months, I knew he was sick and dying so I thought… it's expected and it makes no difference to me. When I left home everything was different but now my friend has died, nothing really changes… I didn't expect… I feel like something should change. The world has lost a good mage, a good man. No one here cares because he was from Tevinter and no one in Tevinter will care because Alexius left and broke off a lot of his ties to other families in doing so."

"So you were his one friend?" Bull's voice had warmth in it again, and Dorian relaxed, unsure what he had said to make the change but glad that it was there.

"Not his only friend. I was his father's apprentice so I really only saw him when he was home… but I know he had a couple of other friends. Well, he did when they lived there. When I left all my friends refused to admit to knowing me, I don't know if his were the same or not…"

"Not really friends then." Bull snorted, but the response made Dorian pause.

"I… wouldn't say that. I don't want to think I grew up without any friends… but perhaps a different brand of friend?"

"Vashedan. That's not friendship."

"Not in the south perhaps." Dorian smiled sleepily from his position against Bull's chest. His body was exhausted, even though he had done little all day.

"Guess you'll just have to stay in Skyhold until all those 'vints come to their senses!" Bull declared, before reaching up to run his hands through Dorian's hair.

"An uphill battle, I'm sure." He mumbled, eyes drooping as one hand began to rub gently.

"Probably."

"Definitely."

"Stop trying to get the last word in and go to sleep."

"No."