Disclaimer: turns out I don't own any of these characters, or the world, or any of the swearing. I'm okay with that. It's for fun, not money. Bioware does good work, they can keep it.

Chapter 7

Dorian was rather enjoying this rare lull in action. Many missions were being undertaken to prepare to countermand Coryphaeus's plans. Fitzwilliam was, at this very moment, with the Inquisition Council planning to foil an assassination attempt on the Empress of Orlais. Dorian felt sure he'd be excluded from that one. No one wanted him at court at the moment. The mage was scandal wrapped in gossip, inside a storm of shame. That probably shouldn't have bothered him, but it did, just a little. He'd love to see Fitzwilliam in whatever getup Josephine concocted for the occasion.

Still, the rest of their ragged band had also been freed from duty and in a rare moment of truly pristine insanity they had all agreed to meet at the tavern for drinks. All of them. Aside from the Chargers, who apparently had their own plans for the evening. The tavern keeper had pushed several square tables together in a corner for them, and was keeping a close eye. It was going well.

He and Vivienne were exchanging affectionate barbs and sipping wine. She'd paid for it, and it was quite good.

Iron Bull was flirting with everyone. Even Cole. Which was an odd sight indeed. The Qunari was asking the boy what his… "watchword" would be? Dorian's eyes went wide. Surely they weren't talking about what he thought they were. Varric barged in and saved the boy, which only brought Iron Bull's rather personal questions onto him, but at least the dwarf could understand what it meant. Aaaaand Iron Bull was laughing at whatever he had said. Dorian was loath to have missed it.

Blackwall was sitting quietly. Sipping his ale and smiling. He was just happy to be among them. Even if Cullen was more like the type of man he would have normally shared a drink with. The Warden liked seeing them banding together. He seemed to have a special fondness for Cole and, of all people, Sera. He sat and watched like… not quite like a father. A fun uncle, maybe. The kind who would get you out of trouble and not tell your father, but would make you wish he had. Probably give some kind of "for your own good" speech too.

Cassandra was quiet as well. Which actually kind of surprised Dorian. The woman was… loquacious on a normal day but with a drink in her? Well it was only a matter of time before she started gushing to Varric about his books, or asking Iron Bull what a watchword was… dear lord, she was doing it now wasn't she. Oh yes, certainly. Between the Qunari's leer and the bright red the Seeker was turning there was no way she hadn't asked just that.

Solas was talking to Cole quietly, explaining some of the more… physical aspects of nature, when Iron Bull stood up.

He pointed to Vivienne. "Periwinkle," he shouted. He turned pointing that finger at Blackwall next – "Petit-alms." Then to Solas – "Savory." Cassandra – "Satin." Varric – "Bianca!" He laughed. "Just kidding. Paragon." He turned to Sera – "Cookies," he said with a smirk. Then turned to Dorain and said, "Venatori". Dorian attempted to scowl, but it was as good a watchword as any. Better than most, in fact. Then Bull turned and looked at Cole. Cole looked back, smiling. "I just don't know," he said, flopping back onto the bench and making everyone on it bounce.

"Templar," Cole said, so softly Dorian wasn't sure if anyone heard him.

…

Really the night was going remarkably well. Dorian and Sera had been on several missions with the Inquisitor recently. He was pleased to find that she liked him, despite her intense dislike of mages. He liked her too. She was one to speak her mind. No matter what. And now was one of those moments.

Dorian and Solas had been having a conversation about the different methods they used to cast their magic and manipulate the fade. Vivienne had joined in and they were really having the nicest conversation.

"Ugh," Sera said loudly. "There being three of you doesn't make it normal!" She wasn't being malicious, really, just indiscrete. It made Dorian smile at her intently for long moments until finally she said, "Stop staring at me."

"I can't believe you're scared of magic, Sera." Dorian said, sipping his wine. "It's a gift as mundane to me as your bow to you. Surely you see there's nothing to fear in a properly used tool?"

Sera rolled her eyes. "Tell that to all the "proper" mages wavin' their tools in peoples' faces!" She said loudly. Faces around the table began to shift. Blackwall hid a smile behind his mug. Iron Bull outright laughed, a big booming thing that shook the room. Sera glared at him. Varric looked like he might choke.

"There's an image," Dorian said under his breath.

"And What about Coryphemus? How many "proper tools" does he have under him?" She asked seriously.

Varric chuckled and choked out an amused, "Not hardly enough, if you ask me." Before adding, "Might get him to loosen up."

"And the rebel mages?" Sera pressed on, oblivious. "How many "proper tools" have they raised?"

"That's not –" Dorian said, choking on the attempt to keep a straight face. "I—I don't think I can continue." He said, laughing.

"Right," she continued taking a drink from her mug. "Well, I don't care how gifted you are. Don't cram it where it's not wanted."

"Maker," Vivienne chimed in. "How does she not know?"

Blackwall was laughing into his mug, the smile actually reached his eyes. All too rare. Cole looked, blank-faced, around at everyone laughing and said simply, "I'm lost."

Dorian tried once more to have a real conversation with the girl about magic. "I'm wondering, Sera," he said casually. "If familiarity might cure your suspicion of magic?"

"I don't need to be familiar with your tool," Sera spat. Literally, spat. On the floor.

Dorian snickered. "Please, stop saying "tool". Consider how much magic can accomplish, for everyone. Magic exists to serve."

Sera rolled her eyes. "I like you, Dorian," she said with genuine affection. "Don't ruin it." Dorian smiled, shrugged, and raised his glass in acknowledgement. "You're smart to surrender," she said. "I've got a room-full of arrows."

"Where do you get all those arrows?" Dorian asked. "You have hundreds."

Sera looked at him, very seriously and said, "From your arse."

Dorian laughed heartily. "Well," he said when he had managed to stem the stream into a chuckle. "My arse should open up a shop. It is, apparently, quite prolific."

…

Dorian turned to Iron Bull, freeing the others for a short time. "I'll never understand why Qunari warriors spend half their time running around bare-chested," Dorian said.

Bull looked him over. "I thought you'd appreciate that," he joked.

"It's stupid," Dorian said, surprised to find himself actually annoyed about it. "They should wear armor."

"You see a member of the Beresaad in full armor," Bull said, suddenly serious. "You run. Because it's war."

Dorian paused for a moment at the tone in Bull's voice. But decided to press on, "They should wear armor all the time."

"Then they'd have to invade everyone!" Iron Bull objected. "You're so blood-thirsty!"

…

Apparently Dorian was making the rounds, first Sera, then Iron Bull, and now, Blackwall. Another person he had rubbed the wrong way at the beginning. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had rubbed pretty much everyone the wrong way. Odd. He was so handsome and charming. People should like him. But he and Blackwall, well they were just barely on friendly terms.

"I've been watching you, Dorian," the Warden said meaningfully. Aaaand the man was clearly very drunk.

"Is that so?" Dorian replied cautiously.

"The way you carry yourself when you use magic," he clarified. The red on his cheeks had to have been from the ale, right?

"I am very good at the whole magic thing," Dorian said with a smirk.

"No," Blackwall said. "It's not that." And Dorian looked at him quizzically. It's not? I think I'm quite good. "You find joy in it. Not shame. And it shows." The man was smiling at him.

"Well," Dorian said cautiously. "Why be ashamed? Power should be respected. Not swept under the carpet."

Blackwall nodded, taking a swig from his mug. "Something we southerners need to learn, perhaps."

Dorain laughed. "Maybe you're not a complete moron." Dorian said playfully.

Blackwall scowled. "We were having a moment, and now you've ruined it," he said gruffly. Dorian frowned, worried, until the Warden winked at him. Dorian clapped him on the back and moved on. Cassandra took his place beside the Warden. That would be an interesting combination. Dorian thought. He'd have to pull some string there, see if there was any interest.

"Well," he heard Blackwall saying to the seeker. "At least he's stopped calling me that hairy lummox." And Cassandra laughed, it was surprisingly feminine. Perhaps there was interest after all.

…

And now Iron Bull had him backed into a corner on the far side of the room. Literally. Dorian's back was in a corner. They'd come a long way from their first mission. Dorian remembered it well. He'd asked the Qunari if, since he was a mage, the man would prefer him bound and leashed. The giant of a man had tried to make light of it, saying he'd buy him dinner first. But Dorian was having none of it and said, "Hopefully before you sewed my mouth shut." That had seemed to annoy Bull because he'd replied with a gruff, "depends on how long you keep yapping." At this particular moment, even drunk as the both were, Dorian kind of missed the old days when Bull would threaten him.

Bull was leaning over him, one hand on the wall to his side. And he was getting… deep.

"I think I know what your problem is, Dorian," he said.

"I have only the one?" Dorian replied playfully. Really what was the man on about? Dorian was actually growing to like the Qunari.

"You see a man who's burned out, who left his people and entire life behind... and for what?" Bull said seriously.

Dorian blinked up at him. "You're suggesting we're… similar?"

Iron Bull suddenly looked sad. "Finding out you don't fit in with the people who raised you?" He said. "Having to walk away from everything you grew up with? Knowing you've disappointed the ones who loved you. Burning out so hard you have to leave everything you've ever known and start over? I might know a bit about that." Dorian couldn't help it, he reached out and touched Bull's arm. Bull smiled at him, a little half of a thing. Sad, but trying. "It takes a tough man to do it," he said sincerely. "So, good on you."

"Good on us," Dorian said genuinely.

That got a heartfelt smile from the Qunari. He grabbed Dorian about the shoulders and tousled his hair. "You big, ol' fop," he said affectionately, as Dorian tried to protest the crime which was being committed against his hair.

…

The night was winding down. Everyone was heading to their beds, slowly. Varric walked with him to the tower. They stood before the fire, just outside the door to the keep, warming their hands.

After a while Dorian spoke. "So what's your estimation, Varric? Think we could win?" Dorian needed some light banter with a good friend after all the recent events. If he and Varric were just a little closer maybe he'd have someone to talk to about Fitz. As it was just being able to trade barbed wit back and forth was a pleasure.

Varric gave a mock gasp. "You aren't asking me to give odds on our beloved Inquisitor's success?"

Dorian laughed. "What would that look like? Three to one?"

"In his favor?" Varric asked, actually contemplating it.

"After Corypheus pulled an archdemon out of his ass, are you joking?" Dorian asked.

"I'll take those odds," Fitzwilliam's familiar voice floated up from behind him. Dorian turned and beamed to see him. It was just like him to take a three to one bet against himself as a challenge. It was endearing.

"This is why I adore him so," Dorian sighed.

Fitzwilliam's eyes went wide, looking to see the dwarf's reaction. Varric laughed, clapped Dorian on the back and said, "I'm going to bed. See ya, Inquisitor."

Fitzwilliam glared at him, but Dorian couldn't be bothered to care. "You're here," he said, still quite drunk. "Why are you here? This isn't the way to your rooms, Inquisitor." Fitzwilliam's face softened, and he smiled and shook his head.

"I need to talk with you," he said. Fitzwilliam approached Dorian and touched his bare arm softly.

"You could at least bring me wine," Dorian said suggestively, leaning in close. "Loosens the tongue – so to speak."

"I suspect you've had a bounty of wine already," Fitzwilliam said gently. "Okay, so I was hoping to steal a moment alone with you," he confessed.

Dorian laughed boisterously, it echoed off the cold stone walls of the empty hall. "'I need to talk to you', he says." Dorian's voice dripped affection and amusement and he let the Inquisitor lead him away from the keep and toward Fitzwilliam's quarters. "You have but to ask, Amatus." Dorian said suggestively.

"Oh, come now," Fitzwilliam said as he closed the outer door and helped the mage up the balcony-hall stairs to the inner chamber. "You're hardly in a state for that."

Dorian waved his arms wildly. "I'm not that drunk, Fitz. It's just the wine was very fine and everyone was having such a good time…"

Fitzwilliam opened the inner door and ushered Dorian inside. "Yes, such a good time that we started placing bets. On us losing."

Dorian had to look to make sure Fitzwilliam was joking and not mad. But to be honest his perception wasn't very sharp at the moment so he ended up saying, "You're not mad are you?" He sounded like a small boy who'd accidentally broken his mother's vase.

Fitzwilliam smiled and ran his fingers through the mage's hair. "Do I look mad?"

"I can't tell," Dorian whined. "It's why I asked."

The mage sat heavily on Fitzwilliam's bed and began, attempting, to remove his boots. Maker these laces are tricky. "I'm not mad, Doe," Fitzwilliam said, kneeling beside him and helping him off with his boots. Once that feat was accomplished Dorian looked down at the Inquisitor.

"How did the planning go?" He asked.

Fitzwilliam sighed. "It took forever, but we're ready. We'll leave in the morning."

"We?" Dorian asked, startled.

"I'm sorry," Fitzwilliam said. "I guess I just assumed. You know how these sorts of affairs go, and you have a good eye for intrigue. You seemed a natural choice. But if you'd prefer not to I understand."

Dorian flopped onto his back on the bed giggling. Fitzwilliam was forced to stand, remove his boots, and climb into the bed beside the mage. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him.

"I thought you'd want me to stay," Dorian said, after the giggles died down. "I thought you'd leave the pariah at home. Take the Qunari, maybe. Less embarrassing." Fitzwilliam furrowed his brow.

"Why would you think a thing like that?" Fitzwilliam asked seriously.

Dorian felt sad, suddenly. "Because of the secret?" He said.

Fitzwilliam furrowed his brow again. "What secret, Dorian. You're not making sense."

"This secret," Dorian said before leaning up and kissing him. It was hot and needy and Dorian recognized it for what it was. A grasping attempt to fill a hole gouged out by insecurity. It was familiar. This is how hit had been with other men. It made him feel a bit ill. Or maybe that was the wine.

When they broke Fitzwilliam made it a point to hold his gaze. It lasted so long that it was becoming uncomfortable. Finally, he said, gesturing with his hand, "Dorian, do you think you're… we're… this is a secret?" Dorian looked away but Fitzwilliam's hand came to gently guide him back. "No, Dorian. Tell me. Because if I have… if my actions, something I said or did, have lead you to believe that then I need to correct it."

It was Dorian's turn to feel confused. "No," he said, gently caressing Fitzwilliam's face. "Not you."

"Good," Fitzwilliam sighed but he looked sad. "But that's what you've learned about relationships, right? They can only exist in secret?" Dorian nodded, dropping his eyes again. Silence filled the room. Maker, I'm emotional when I've been drinking, he scoffed inwardly. "Dorian," Fitzwilliam's voice pulled his gaze back. "We're being discrete, is all. If you have someone you want to tell about us, you can do that. I'd say you could tell everyone, but this is a little new to be making formal announcements, don't you think?" Fitzwilliam laughed softly.

Dorian smiled. This is more than I ever dared dream. "This is more than I ever dared dream," he said aloud. Apparently I've no filter now.

"Dream bigger, Dorian," Fitzwilliam said before he leaned down and captured the mage's lips in a smoldering, sensual kiss.

AN: This is a bit shorter than usual but only because the next part got away from me. So the good news is the next chapter will be posted very quickly, since it's already written and just needs some editing. Enjoy!