TITLE: Dorian
CHAPTER: 14, Learning to Dance
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." ― Friedrich Nietzsche
Circe
The flickering candlelight cast garish shapes against the gold and white walls. The smell of unwashed bodies overlaid with perfume floated to where I stood at the top of the marble and gold staircase. I'd rather face a horde of demons than the sea of painted and masked faces below. I'd been to balls before, this crush of courtiers shouldn't be new to me. B ut this the first time the attention was directed at me, instead of my father.
The masks and fancy manners did little to hid their malice and suspicion. I forced some air into my lungs and took a step. A hand on my elbow steadied me, and there was Dorian. He pulled my fingers into the bend of his arm. We spent our days riding and walking over the countryside, but just now I require assistance walking down a staircase. In spite of my attempt at bravado, I squeezed my fingers around Dorian's arm when the Orlesians pressed closer as they announced us.
"The Inquisitor, Lady Trevelyan and Lord Dorian Pavus, Altus Mage and heir to House Pavus."
"Ignore them, my Lady. I am here." Dorian whispered patting my hand where it curled around his arm.
His friendly smile warmed my heart. In the candlelight with his light eyes and black hair, he appeared more handsome than ever.
"Why do you stare, Circe?"
"You look very handsome tonight."
"That is nothing new. I am but an adornment on your arm. Tonight, your radiances outshines the stars."
"It's the necklace, nothing more. Which I shall return to you at the end of the night."
"It was a gift, Inquisitor."
"That I cannot accept…"
"Of course, you can. I'll hear no more about it. Come along, Circe. Your adoring fans await."
The guarded look in his eyes didn't match his smile and courtly manner. I stopped to ask, but he squeezed my fingers over his arm.
"I believe the metaphor you're looking for is hungry wolves, not adoring fans," I whispered, and he laughed. Good. If he could laugh, he might relax. We descended.
The Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons intercepted us and bowed low over my hand. The insipid smile, the groveling all meant to put me off my guard. Well, that wouldn't happen. As my father was fond of saying, now there's a slimy fellow. Slimy, indeed. From his bad teeth and fetid breath to his body odor. He made a show of manners and charm, but when he took my hand to kiss it, I almost...almost recoiled. I took one step away from him and found myself backed against The Bull. One of his big hands on my lower back steadied me. When Gaspard finally looked up, Bull's face glowering face motivated him to release my hand with a small gasp.
"The necklace is lovely, Inquisitor. How charming against the luster of your youthful skin. The sapphire pulls the eyes…"
"Watch it…"
"Yes, yes, of course, my Quinary friend. Quite, right. May I offer you and your party a moment of quiet? Yes? Please follow me."
A glance at Dorian confirmed my suspicions. It wouldn't do to keep the Empress waiting, but there is obviously something he wishes to tell us. We are here to investigate rumors of an assassination attempt on the Empress. Dorian stayed at my side while The Bull and the rest of our party fanned out around me.
The Duke led us to a small chamber off the main hall and nodded us inside. The sound of murmuring voices outside quieted when he shut the door. Servants handed us a fluted glass of something refreshing and bubbly. Another servant passed around a plate inlaid with gold and mother of pearl overflowing with delicate looking meat pasties and fruit.
"Inquisitor, the Empress awaits. I require but a moment of your time. As your very competent Spy Master no doubt told you, Briala is the elven handmaid and spymaster of Empress Celene."
I felt it wiser not to speak. Whether it was my father's small court or the Winter Palace, it was always good to remember you were never really alone. A nod of my head was all he required to keep talking.
"Well!" He downed a glass of amber liquid and reached for another.
Behind me, Dorian snorted. "Abuse of good wine."
"Just so, My Lord. Would I receive the same courtesy in Tevinter I've shown you here?"
"Do go on, Duke."
"As you wish." The Duke bowed to Dorian and gathered himself to speak.
I wondered just how much of this was carefully rehearsed.
"As I'm sure you've noticed already under the light of the candles, the beautiful clothes and food lay a trap waiting for the right moment to unfold. I will tell you what I know, but you must use your celebrity to move about the guests and gather clues."
"Duke, what have your own spymasters told you?"
"Nothing more than I'm about to relate to you."
I set my empty glass down and listened to what this slimy fellow had to say.
~o0o~
Dorian and I stood in the shadows of the Guest Wing searching for clues. We found an something Dorian referred to as a cylinder seal in the Hall of Heroes. Shrouded in the shifting shadows filled with motes of dust Dorian had me laughing in spite of the seriousness of our mission. The glowering portraits of these so called heroes stared down at us.
"Look at this one, Circe. Such a large sword… That only means one thing. Yes?"
I felt the blush rising, but I couldn't resist responding to him. "To compensate for his small feet? Only you would compare a sword to a…"
He's at my side in an instant. "Say it. I dare you."
"I don't believe I will. I don't know what you're referring to at any rate."
"That I can believe," Dorian muttered behind me after I made my escape.
How is that each time we're alone the conversation turned to intimate relations? I tried to cover my discomfort by resorting to chatter. It's not that I wouldn't or couldn't talk about such things. It's very much because I cannot look into those light greens eyes, feel his breath upon my cheek with his hands touching me and say it. Aren't those words for two people who are intimate? I'm afraid chatter will have to do.
"Such grandeur. My father's court is quite humble compared to the Winter Palace."
"And that my Inquisitor is what makes you such a charming woman and a great leader. Arrogance without merit bores quickly."
"And you know nothing about such mundane things as vanity?"
"My dearest Inquisitor. If I am arrogant, it is nothing more than the natural display of my superior skills as a Mage…"
"…and a lover, no doubt."
"Do not doubt that. More than that, I like to think I am a generous lover. This is where you belong. Among the scented candles and gold plate. Excellent food and wine, where the man who loved you dressed you in fine clothes and brought you happiness."
Why is he doing this? He's so handsome in the dim light with the candlelit flickering in his eyes. I moved across the room and changed the subject.
"Is Tevinter at all like the Winter Palace?"
"No. The gilt rubbed off long ago. We no longer bother to hide the intrigue and plotting under the guise of beautiful manners and good wine. I would take you there, Circe. Show you my country, the places I love and travel the countryside. I would like to see you in winter, wrapped in fur with a red sparkle in your cheeks. I could teach you to ice skate. You've never done that, yes?"
"Dorian, I believe you had too much to drink."
"You wound me, Circe. Not a drop other than that cheap wine the Duke passed off on us."
"I liked the taste."
"Apparently, because you just inquired as to my abilities as a lover."
"You're mistaken. I didn't say any such thing." Here we go again.
"Yes, you did. Shall I tell you of our nights in Tevinter? The long nights of Fall and Winter where warmth and satisfaction are but a glass of warm spiced wine away? You, in the summertime, dressed in fine muslin so thin and soft your small clothes might show beneath. Enjoying a flavored ice in the garden. Your hair up to keep to cool your neck. I believe he would enjoy watching you put up your hair just so he could take it down again."
"And does that man have a name, Dorian?" His unfocused eyes darkened, and he started as if I startled him.
"I'm sure I don't know! Now, come along my dearest Inquisitor. We have work to do, and I'm sure they're missing you in the ballroom. We mustn't cause talk."
We found the Guest Gardens without raising suspicion. At first glance, the lush greenery and chiming sound of fountains seemed to draw us in. Once inside, the statues and the inlaid tiles turned the garden into a cold and lonely place. Dorian seemed to feel it, too. He took my arm and lead us down to the lower garden.
"I've always enjoyed fountains, but the effect here is more like a mausoleum than a garden."
Dorian and I chose a random path watching for anything resembling a clue. With courtiers all around us, we stayed silent and walked arm in arm as if enjoying the garden.
"Would you enjoy fountains in your garden at Skyhold, Inquisitor?"
"I was just thinking the same thing, Lord Pavus." I nodded and smiled graciously to keep up the pretense.
"Come, Inquisitor. The water chills the air. Let us head back to the guest quarters, yes?"
We passed several elaborately dressed guests on the stairs. As we came abreast of the knot of whispering courtiers, I heard one of them comment, "Ma parole…My word! Will you look at that? What satisfaction does the Inquisitor expect from the great pederast himself, Lord Pavus?"
Their knowing laughter enraged me. I felt mana simmer on my skin beneath this horrid itchy gown. My hands tingled…it was only a matter of deciding which spell to use. Dorian took my arm to hurry me up the marble stairs.
They weren't finished. One of the females giggled. Then a male voice chirped, "One hears the Inquisitor often dresses as a boy. Perhaps they enjoy a bit of…"
"Hush, Phillipe! It is common knowledge, that you and your latest lover—what's his name? Bah! I cannot keep track—take your fun in the Trophy Room."
What? I stopped and bent my head toward Dorian as if to gossip, but pitched my voice for the others to hear my words.
"Did you hear that, Dorian? The Trophy Room? You were correct about overcompensation. I suppose if you're just a cub, it makes sense to stand next to the bear. Mais oui, mon Seigneur Pavus?"
Five masked faces turned to look up at me. Apparently, they couldn't come up with a single word between them. Dorian's mouth dropped open, and I couldn't help myself the laughter came unbidden. With no mercy for my high heels, Dorian hustled me up the stairs and into one of the rooms.
The door slammed shut and Dorian followed the sound with his fist into the ornate wooden door. The sound cracked around the small room like a fireball. "I-I am sorry. Dorian, I would not allow them to say those things about you."
"While I appreciate you attempt to defend me. You've really put your foot in it, Inquisitor."
"I'm not worried about it. I'll wager those leeches can take it as well as dish it out. I'm sick to death of all this intrigue." A slip of parchment caught my eye. I held it to the candle and unrolled the thick paper.
Celene,
We can discuss this like adults, can't we? We both know the weapon at Briala's disposal could not only turn the tide of our war but every war. The empire must control it: I do not believe you disagree. She is now a greater threat to Orlais than anything else. If you and I work together, we can wrestle control away from hr. Do not deceive yourself that she will be open to negotiation or diplomacy. You know here better than anyone—you know that's impossible.
Gaspard
"This is exactly what we need," I said. Instead of sharing my excitement Dorian simply nodded rolled the parchment closed and slid it inside his shirt.
"My dearest Inquisitor. I would have you know the truth."
"Oh, Dorian. I know the truth. Come on, we must find more clues."
"Do you even know what pederast means?"
"What does it matter? I know you prefer men…perhaps, young men…It's not for me to judge you, is it? After all, what am I? Just a silly overeducated virgin out in the world for the first time and most definitely in over her head. But if you must tell me, then tell me. Get it out."
Dorian drew me into the shadows. I thought I'd never seen him as sad as this moment. With the exception of his loyalty and unstinting courage, what he said next taught me more, about the handsome man in front of me than anything else he'd said. His voice so low, like warm brandy, embraced me. I welcomed it.
"Where I come from, anything between two men…it's about pleasure. It's accepted but taken no further…"
My heart ached for him. How lonely his life must be. "You're wrong, Dorian. You're not alone."
"You learn not to hope for more. You'd be foolish to."
"No, Dorian. There is always hope. I will not allow you to despair of it."
He raised glittering eyes to mine and laid his palm against my cheek. The moment drew out while the undercurrent murmur of the guests, the sound of tinkling glasses and the guard's footsteps fell away.
His arm circled my waist and pulled me close.
"As I am beginning to understand, my dearest Circe."