TITLE: Dorian
CHAPTER: Seven, The Caves of My Secret Self
"He, who had done more than any human being to draw her out of the caves of her secret, folded life, now threw her down into deeper recesses of fear and doubt. The fall was greater than she had ever known, because she had ventured so far into emotion and had abandoned herself to it." ― Anais Nin
Circe
Bull insisted on helping me from my horse. It wasn't necessary. Instead of exhausted I felt exhilarated and astonished at what we'd seen in the Western Approach. I wanted to get to my desk and begin documenting all we'd discovered. Once that's completed I'll call a War Table to discuss issues and how to overcome certain obstacles and problem areas. After I thanked my groom for leading my tired horse away, I headed toward my quarters calling for my maid to bring me food and drink.
Bull frowned with disappointment when I turned down his offer to buy me dinner at the Inn, but I had work to do. Besides, I was still a little shy about what we shared that night. All those long weeks on the road and he never pushed for anything else. He'd promised, though, hadn't he? And I would hold him to that promise.
At the top of the stairs, I found Dorian waiting for me. He held up his hand before I could speak.
"Inquisitor, I only wished to make sure you were uninjured and to apologize."
I threw down my cloak and hung up my staff. "You have nothing to apologize for, Lord Pavus. We'll have to return to the Western Approaches soon, do you wish to accompany us?"
But the look on his face took the bravado out of my voice. Trying my best to sound professional and unemotional, I failed when I noticed he looked as if he hadn't slept. His normally impeccably groomed hair curled around the edges of his collar. Even his mustache drooped over his frown.
I tried again. "Dorian, I do not seek an apology. I shouldn't have been stumbling around in the middle of the night. Friends understand each other and I hope we can continue to be friends."
The room darkened with the setting sun, filling the room with colors of orange and red. He smelled of leather and the mana simmered in him casting an aura around him so thick, I could almost reach out and touch the shimmer. I held out my hand and he took it. The mana crackled across our joined hands.
"Thank you, Inquisitor. I would like that very much."
"Well, you needn't make it sound like a servant's response."
"Apologies." He made a short bow. "What tone would the Inquisitor like me to use?"
"Stop that." I tried to laugh it off, but his downcast eyes told me this was not a laughing matter. "Dorian, please help me understand. What changed and why are you behaving this way?"
"I have wronged you, Circe and I don't know how to make it up to you."
A servant entered with a tray of food and a pitcher of mead. Our eyes met and held while she placed the items on my desk. She filled two mugs before leaving us alone. He took the cup I held out to him.
"To friends."
A great breath went out of him and I watched his shoulders relax. The urge to hug him almost overwhelmed me. How could I reassure him? His dark eyes reached for mine again. With his free hand, he placed two fingers on my cheek.
"To friends."
He raised his cup but didn't drink. Finally, I saw the corners of his mouth turn up. There's my friend, Dorian.
"We are all strangers here. We all have a personal life before this." I waved my hand to indicate the Inquisition. "And someday we'll all go back to that life."
Dorian set his cup down without drinking. "And never see you again? The endearing crooked smile winked out of sight.
Say goodbye to him? Never see him again? Something like a panic rose up in me, I took a deep sip and picked up an apple slice and a piece of cheese. "Come sit with me, I have so much to tell you."
With him taking a seat across from me, my desk rose up like a barrier between us. Throughout the long nights in my tent, I thought about Dorian and my knowledge of his preference for men. That he did, was not the issue. Maker, how I'd missed him. The issue was how to stop this girlish crush. This growing desire in me to offer him more than friendship. And the deep disappointment that he would never want me or see me more than just a bookish young mage.
"Circe?"
"What? Yes, the Western Approach. What an arid wasteland, full of evil smells and new creatures. I closed eight rifts, Dorian. My hand ached so badly by the end of the day. We encountered Rage, Pride, and Despair Demons. They were bad enough, but the Terror Demons. I hate their spindly creeping ways."
Dorian moved his chair to my side of the desk and absently picked up my left hand. While his strong fingers massaged my aching hand I tried to keep talking. But I was beginning to understand, it would be better for both us if we didn't touch each other.
"Go on. There is more. Yes?"
"We took Griffon Wing Keep with difficulty. I made the mistake closing the Rifts first. So that by the time we made for the Keep we were all tired and almost out of food and water. If it hadn't been for Scout Harding and her stores…" I tugged my hand from his. "We must go back and take Adamant Fortress. Only then will the Inquisition truly hold the Approach. I want you there, Dorian. I believe even greater terrors lie within and I need you by my side."
"Then by your side is where I will be. There is no question of that, Inquisitor."
Then I realized or saw, the great bear in the room. The thing we had not talked about. The thing which hovered over us in the room lit only by a few candles and the last rays of the sun. My heart skipped in my chest and something akin to butterflies churned my stomach.
"There is another question. Yes?" I said softly into the darkness, using one of his favorite expressions.
"Did The Iron Bull touch you?"
"I already apologized for stumbling across you and Harry. Your personal life is not for me to judge or my concern. Moral is important. I understand that, of course." Slowly rising, I headed for the safety of the balcony.
Behind me in an instant, he trapped me against the icy balustrade. With all the force of a noble Altus Mage, accustomed to getting his way, his words lashed out at me. "Answer my question. Did he hurt you?"
Did he hurt me, I wondered? How interesting, though, that pain did seem to be part of the experience. He'd asked me to bite him and I had obliged. Twice, in fact.
"Your glassy eyes and blush betray you, Inquisitor! You fled from me into the arms of a Qunari. You fool, he's Ben-Hassrath and Tal-Vashoth. You allowed him close and now he can spy and manipulate you, Badly done, Circe. Badly done."
My hand connected with his face before I consciously thought of it. The sound of the blow echoed into the night sky amplifying the truth of what I had done. The Anchor flared to life. Damn this man for angering me so easily. And twice damn my inexperience. I will not allow this to happen again. I am the Inquisitor. It doesn't matter that I wasn't their first choice or that I'm nothing but a green girl. I accepted this responsibility and vowed to see it through. There isn't time for this...this… for learning about men or friendship. I must hold myself above fraternization if I am to lead the Inquisition to victory.
Ignoring his wide eyes and the hand that covered his cheek, I gave as good as I received. "I will not allow you will not speak of the Bull in those terms. Nor do I owe you an explanation. I'm well aware of his past and intentions for his role with the Inquisition. Please leave me, Lord Pavus. I wish to complete my notes and ready myself for sleep."
Without a word, he spun away from me and left me standing in the dark with only the stars and the frozen mountains to judge my actions. When I heard the door slam at the bottom of the stairs my exhaustion got the better of me and I sank to the cold stones.
