A/N: Who are you Judy?

They fell back atop the pillows together, gasping for breath. Fay started to gasp out a laugh, and Dorian couldn't help but to join in. Dorian felt very overheated, and exceptionally sweaty. He lay still for a moment, his breath slowly returning to normal. He stood up slowly, thinking to open to doors to the balcony. The cool air would help to soothe him. He froze mid stride.

"They were open this whole time?!" A note of panic crept into Dorian's tone. He looked back at Fay, reclining upon the bed, his body glistening with sweat. Every curve, every muscle defined. Damn him for being so attractive. Seeing Fay with no clothes on always gave him pause. It always made him feel like he was seeing something sacred, something that was meant for worthier eyes than his. He was like a bronze god, and Dorian had just worshipped him.

Fay had a lazy smile on his lips.

"Yes."

"So…"

"Everyone heard, yes."

"Maker…" Dorian covered his eyes, and felt a flush cross his cheeks. "So now they all know?"

"That you're a loud lover?" Fay asked, with a cheeky look in his eyes. Dorian frowned at him in mock admonishment.

"No. That… You and I…" He started to feel very uncomfortable.

"Come back here, ma vhenan. I want to hold you." Fay commanded. Dorian raised an eyebrow. He could only admire his confidence. The mage slinked over to the bed, petulant look on his face. Inside, he was a knot of anxiety. Mother Giselle, in particular, had been worried for the Inquisitor's reputation as rumours of he and Dorian's involvement began to circulate. Nobody cared here that Fay loved a man. It was the fact that that man was a mage from the Tevinter Imperium. He was a social pariah at home, and out of it. He didn't belong anywhere.

"Dorian." He still got chills at the sound of his voice saying his name. "I love you. You do not shame me. I am proud to be yours. Let them know. I will continue to hold my head up high, as you should do." Fay's voice was deep, and resounding. Warm, and affectionate. He was so sure of himself. So absolute in his statements. There was very little room for Dorian to doubt. If there was one thing that Dorian was a master at, it was doubting himself. Fay made it more difficult for him to do that.

"Yes, but you weren't the one moaning loudly." Dorian said, feeling mortified, as he nestled onto Fay's chest. "The entirety of Skyhold must have heard me."

"Then that is something they'll know about me. That I can make you happy." There was a hint of smugness in his tone. Dorian swatted him on the arm.

"We don't really know that much about you, do we, Inquisitor?" Dorian was desperately trying to change the subject.

"What do you want to know?" Fay's voice was very cocky. He had been getting cockier and cockier since Dorian had agreed to be his mate. He liked it. It was something private. A rapport just for the two of them. Every day when he woke up and realised that Fay was beside him, he thought his heart would surely burst. Dorian thought for a while, then landed on an easy question.

"How old are you?" At times he was convinced that Fay was younger than him. Perhaps because Dorian was getting to that age where he felt Ancient. Thirty-two. He thought this would be an easy question to get them started off on. But Fay's face tightened, and he looked suddenly apprehensive. He took a breath, started to speak, stopped, then started again.

"I'm sixty-four."

"WHAT?!" A pause. "Do elves measure years differently to shemlen?" Dorian calmed, as he thought this was the most logical answer.

Fay shook his head slowly, and then they were both sitting up. Dorian had to get to the bottom of this.

"You're twice as old as I am? That can't be right. No…"Fay grimaced, then thought for a moment.

"Elvhen have longer lifespans than shemlen. In our legends, it is said that there was once a time when we did not die." There were times when Dorian forgot that he and Fay were not the same species. This was one of those stark reminders, that they were quite different.

"How old could you live to be?" He was now curious on an academic level now. He had never known that elves had a longer life than humans.

"The oldest woman of our bloodline is approximately eight hundred years. Give or take a decade."

Dorian's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Wait… your bloodline?" Fay looked to be mildly uncomfortable talking about this, but he was also somewhat encouraged to talk about this.

"Surely you've noticed by now that my family, that I look somewhat different to other Elvhen."

"You're… taller?"

"Taller, broader, stronger. We're somewhat different. It comes down through my mother's line. She always said it was the old blood. So in relative terms, I'm still a child." He chuckled at this.

"You're sixty-four. You're a geriatric." They both laughed together about it. The tension left Fay's face. And Dorian was trying his best to get a grasp of this strange new information. "I'll have to start calling you Old Man Faolán."

"Don't you dare!" Fay shouted. He tackled the mage on the bed, and they struggled back and forth together for a time, laughing all the way.

It came to be that Fay managed to gain the upper hand, because of course he did. He was so much stronger than Dorian. He straddled him, and held his arms down over his head. They were both panting hard, and laughing still. Dorian felt a flutter in his stomach. The feeling of Fay's bare skin against his drove him absolutely wild. Fay could feel this. He was staring into Dorian's eyes, before dropping his glance for a moment. He looked back up with a smirk.

"Shut up." Dorian panted. Fay lowered himself slowly on his arms to kiss him. If Dorian was out of breath before, he was gasping now.

"You're an evil, evil man, and I love you." Dorian whispered.

"I have nowhere else to be today. I just want to spend time with you. How we spend it, is up to you." Fay began to nuzzle his neck, running his tongue lightly along his jaw.

"Yeah, let's do that. Please." Fay smiled so that his canines were visible. It gave him a wild look.

"So, Old Man Faolán, what do we tell your daughter?" Dorian asked, later that day, as they ate a plate of bread and cheese. Fay chewed awhile in thought. There was a crease between Fay's eyes. Dorian could tell that he was in pain. His hand had been flaring more often lately.

"What do you mean, vhenan?" He was very clearly distracted. Dorian watched him for a moment, concerned, trying to think of a way to ease his pain.

"What do we tell your daughter, about us?" This was something he had been thinking of the last few days. There was no way that Dorian could ever replace Nimué, and he would never want to. But would Naja resent him for spending time with her father? Fay looked up, and saw the concerned look on Dorian's face.

"Ah. I see." He chewed a piece of bread slowly, and thoughtfully. Savouring it.

"Naja adores you, Dorian. She thinks your moustache is the most fascinating thing she has ever seen."

"Well, it is fabulous." Dorian conceded, quietly. Fay took a moment to smirk at him.

"Naja has only love in her heart. I will tell her that you and I love each other very much. And that you are my mate. I will tell them all." Fay became serious for a moment as he considered for a moment.

"I will paint your face, if you would permit me. When next we are among my people." Dorian had been trying to learn more about Dalish customs, but it was a difficult task. Most of their texts had been destroyed, and third party sources were entirely unreliable. Fay had scribbled some corrections on a few books, which Dorian found to be hilarious.

"Paint my face? Well first I'd have to know what that means?"

"Well, it normally applies to a male and female mates, but it is an important ritual. The female paints her mate's face to show his honour, and how she values him. He then paints her face to honour her." Fay frowned for a moment. It is hard to explain what things with deep unspoken meaning represent to outsiders." They both sat in contemplative silence for a time.

"So would I be expected to paint your face?" Dorian asked. "If so… I don't know how to." He paused. "I'd be willing to learn. But the real question is, which of us is the wife in this relationship?" They both laughed together, releasing the tension that had built up.

"I think we both are? Right?" Fay said jokingly. "So how are you at drawing?"

"Terrible. But I can magic real good." Fay was taken aback for a moment, before laughing again.

"I can teach you."

"Well it'll probably be a while before we come across any tribes, right?" Fay scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, you see… I'm about to do something insane. It might make history. Or it might make war."

"Fay… What in the Maker's name are you planning?"