Dorian drummed his fingers on the chess board, staring blankly at the empty seat across from him. He had been fashionably late, but surely only enough to have annoyed the Commander, not late enough to encourage Cullen to just leave. While often punctual to a fault, the man had been known to forget their plans or get roped into endless meetings.
Something was a touch different this time, though. Cullen had been the one to send the missive requesting that they play this afternoon. Their arrangements were rarely so formal, usually organized with little more than a flirtatious tease over breakfast or Dorian simply popping into the Commander's tower and taunting him until the man gave.
Maybe Dorian had grown a little too comfortable with their…could it be called a relationship? That was a dangerous idea. Cullen was as likely to kill Dorian as fuck him; perhaps both at the same time, in fact.
But this was not acceptable. He could not waste the entire afternoon waiting for a man who may have only asked him there just to annoy him by not turning up.
Dorian went back to his quarters first, wondering if it had been a ploy to get Dorian out of his room for some unknown, nefarious reason. Perhaps to seek evidence of duplicity, a letter revealing his connections with the Venatori? Dorian was not stupid enough to have any such evidence though, and he thought it unlikely Cullen considered him that idiotic.
He went to the library next, shifting through his stacks of research in search of signs of something out of place or missing. It seemed none of it had been touched since he'd retired the previous evening.
So it had not been some ploy in the greater game. While Dorian was certainly petty enough to do such a thing simply to vex Cullen, he was fairly certain the reverse was not true. Cullen did not toy with subtlety. He struck with an appropriately Southern brute honesty, which Dorian had discovered worked a little too well. Dorian had been caught off guard repeatedly by blunt truths and carefree lies, by grand gestures that left him shaking from the intoxicating mix of want and fear.
He might be a little obsessed, but that was hardly his fault.
Dorian leaned against the wall, staring out the window at Cullen's tower. Cullen was probably in there now, far too pleased with whatever his actual plan was since it certainly worked. He had Dorian's attention. If Dorian went to him now, the victory would be too plain and he would be at the mercy of whatever Cullen wanted from him this time.
Tracing his mouth idly, he winced very slightly at his sore lip. Violence and passion had always gone hand in hand for him, but Cullen took it further than Dorian had been prepared for — yet still not far enough. Dorian wasn't even sure if Cullen actually liked men that way, and they never did enough for him to find out. Maybe it was all just part of the game they played. That was probably the case, but Dorian hoped it wasn't. Now that he'd had a taste, he could not help but want more, to want everything.
Dorian cursed himself as he sat down at the desk and started working on whatever it was Maxwell had asked for. Something about red lyrium, right? Dorian pretended to focus, all a show for the passersby and the hawkish Grand Enchanter watching from across the tower.
Of all the plans and schemes, he really should not be letting this whatever it was with the Commander distract him. He was Magister Pavus, and he was not going to lose to a Fereldan dog.
After finally managing to focus on research for a time, Dorian gathered some notes to take to Dagna. The dwarf eyed him a little suspiciously when he entered the Undercroft.
"Is everything all right?"
Dorian put on a practiced smile. "What wouldn't be?"
Dagna shrugged as she started sifting through the notes. "Your mana seems off. A little…stiff maybe?" Dorian's lips parted, but Dagna shook her head and continued, "Did you and the Commander fight or something?"
Dorian chuckled to cover how uncomfortable he was at how almost accurately she could read him. "Not at all. We're cordial as always."
Dagna raised her eyebrows. "Cordial. Right. Just thought maybe something happened to sour his mood."
Dorian was about to make a dismissive comment to discourage this notion that the two of them were in some sort of relationship, but he froze as he thought over her words. "His mood? You've seen him today?"
Dagna scoffed. "Seen? Technically not. Heard? Absolutely." She looked him over again, far too curious. "He was dressing down a soldier in the hall. Loudly," she explained. "Poor Eustace," she added under her breath.
Dorian nodded and vaguely thanked her. He paused in the great hall, finding a soldier slumped in a dark corner surrounded by a few others apparently trying to make him feel better. They did not appear high ranking, so whatever had so pissed Cullen off surely could not be that bad. Maybe he was just shooting the messenger, as it were?
Dorian was thankful he'd had the wits to keep from looking for Cullen. If something had so irritated him, Dorian was uncertain it would be wise to draw that ire in his direction.
It was a little early for it, but Dorian headed to the Herald's Rest. He did not quite make it when his ears caught the familiar voice coming from the smithy.
"How can you possibly deny me this?"
"It isn't necessary," Cassandra's voice replied firmly.
"It is," Cullen replied furiously.
Despite himself, Dorian approached the door and leaned close to listen.
"You asked for my opinion and I have given it," Cassandra was saying. "Why would you expect it to change?"
"I expect you to keep your word!" Cullen growled. "It's relentless." Cassandra said something too quiet for Dorian to hear, but Cullen cut over her. "This has nothing to do with him!"
Dorian's heart skipped a beat. It may be a bit arrogant to assume he was the him referenced, yet he could not help but make that leap.
"He's been trying to get under your skin since Haven, everyone knows this."
"I'm fully capable of handling one fucking Tevinter."
Well, that was certainly true, much to Dorian's annoyance.
"And you are capable of your duties just the same. I said I would watch you and I have — it isn't time yet."
There was a crash of tools clattering to the floor and Dorian leapt back from the door in surprise.
"You can do this, Commander," Cassandra said calmly, despite it sounding like Cullen had flipped a bloody table.
"Maker take you," Cullen snarled, and Dorian did not have time to hide before the door flung open.
Cullen froze, his eyes wide as he locked on Dorian. He recovered from his shock fairly quickly, his mouth drawing into a thin line and his jaw tight as he stormed by without a word. Cassandra exited a moment later, grabbing Dorian's arm in a vise grip and hissing, "You heard nothing."
Dorian had the presence of mind to nod, and Cassandra released him and headed up into the castle proper.
He did not know what this was all about, but Cullen was evidently not in a good state of mind. Dorian looked up toward Cullen's tower, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. It was dangerous, true, but Cullen was much easier to manipulate when he was angry. If nothing else, it could be fun.
Dorian let himself into the office without knocking, only to be struck in the head with a flying wooden box the moment he stepped inside.
"Maker, I —." Cullen stopped himself when he saw who had invaded his privacy. "What are you doing here?" he sneered.
Dorian rubbed his head as he bent down to see what Cullen had turned into a projectile. A vial of lyrium fell from the box and Dorian's heart got caught in his throat. His vague plan of irritating Cullen further and seeking weakness vanished as he stood up, kicked the door shut behind him, and promptly locked all the doors with a wave of his hand.
Cullen visibly tensed, his body still hunched over the table but every bit of him prepared to fight. "Get out," he ordered through clenched teeth.
"No," Dorian replied, instead stepping further into the room.
Cullen put a hand on the hilt of his sword; no, not just put, he grabbed onto it with clear intentions to draw the weapons. "Get out."
Dorian did not look at the sword, though he made sure it was visible at the corner of his vision as he met Cullen's eyes and walked to the other side of the desk. Cullen's mouth was curled into a primal leer, eyes dark with something that was decidedly not arousal.
"Have you taken more?"
A muscle twitched in Cullen's throat. He straightened up a little, but did not release the hold of his sword. "No," he replied firmly.
Dorian smiled kindly. "That's good."
"That's —." Cullen blinked, a hint of confusion overtaking the murderous gleam in his gaze as his fingers relaxed ever so slightly. "What do you care?"
"You don't need it."
Cullen's gaze dropped to the box Dorian had left on the floor. "I do need it," he admitted weakly.
A part of Dorian wished he could use this like he used every other weakness he could find, but his hatred for what the Chantry had done to this man was too strong. And maybe his attraction to Cullen was a little too strong, too.
"A lion doesn't belong on a leash."
Cullen's eyes snapped back up to Dorian's. "It's not your concern."
Dorian shrugged, tugging the short missive from his pocket. "Isn't it?"
Cullen's hand slipped from the hilt of his sword. "Oh. I…." Cullen closed his eyes. "I apologize. I lost track of time."
"You knew I wouldn't let you take it," Dorian guessed. Judging by the way Cullen looked at him then, frowning but with a hint of fear in his eyes, Dorian was right on the mark. "That's why you asked to meet." He set the note down on the desk. "That's also why you didn't show."
For a long moment, Cullen said nothing. He stared at Dorian with clear apprehension, apparently waiting for Dorian to strike while he was down. "Why do you care?" Cullen asked finally, an attempted snarl landing quiet and earnest instead.
"I already told you —."
"Why do you care?" Cullen interrupted.
Dorian hesitated. He didn't like the only answer that came to mind. He could try to lie, of course, but somehow he could not bring himself to. Not just now, not when Cullen was precariously on a knife's edge.
He settled for a half-truth instead. "You want to be free. I understand that."
Cullen slowly walked around the desk and Dorian wondered if Cullen was about to hurt him. The thought shouldn't make his heart race, not like this. But instead Cullen went to the box, gathering up the philter and vial quickly and —.
"No!" Dorian's magic lashed out like a whip, striking Cullen's wrists and forcing him to drop it all before he could take it.
Oh the fury in Cullen's face when he whirled about to glare at him, a dead ringer from the first time Cullen had threatened him. Cullen did not bother trying to grab the lyrium again. He instead threw himself at Dorian, hands around his throat as he shoved him backward, pinning him to the desk. An ink bottle shattered and papers fluttered to the floor, but the Commander did not care as his grip tightened.
Dorian shoved instinctively at Cullen's chest, a bolt of lightning striking near his heart but Cullen's grasp did not waver even as a lingering trickle of that lighting flickered over his breastplate. Dorian struggled, physically trying to force Cullen off but it didn't work in the least, and now panic was rising in his chest as the world darkened dangerously.
Cullen was actually going to kill him.
Dorian gathered everything he had in his next blow and this time it did the trick. The bolt was strong enough to force Cullen against the far wall, where he slumped to the ground, his armor now marred with a large scorch mark. He was still breathing, though entirely dazed as he fumbled his efforts to get to his feet.
Leaning against the desk for support, Dorian gasped for breath and watched Cullen like the predator he was, fighting the instinct to flee while he could.
If he hadn't been so intently focused on Cullen, he might not have noticed the tiny quirk of Cullen's lips before he raised his head. The anger had not subsided, but Dorian had definitely seen that hint of a smile and it stole his breath more deftly than Cullen's hands had.
What the fuck was this, now?
Cullen managed to get to his feet before Dorian's mind could figure that out. He was breathing heavily and obviously in intense pain as he stumbled forward, apparently intent on getting at Dorian again.
Lightning flashed around Dorian's fists, but he did not strike back, not yet. "What are you doing, Commander?"
Cullen hesitated, but then lunged at Dorian again. Just before Dorian's magic forced him away, he landed a punch to Dorian's face that felt like it'd broken his jaw.
"Fuck!" Dorian grasped at it, blinking away tears as he flung a formless wave of magic in Cullen's direction to keep him at bay. "Cullen, if —."
Cullen did not let him finish. He came at him relentlessly, knocking him to the ground and punching, kicking, even biting where he could reach. Dorian let his magic do whatever it willed, a dangerous and desperate loss of control, but apparently it worked when Cullen finally backed off. When Dorian looked up to see what had happened he was startled to realize that his magic was actively choking Cullen.
It wasn't like hands around the neck, no. The blood Cullen had drawn from his shoulder had slipped down his throat. Cullen clawed at his own neck, tearing his skin as his eyes rolled back.
Dorian cut off his magic, even though his blood simply burned to be used like this, it longed to choke Cullen, to steal his breath, to take his life.
But Dorian did not want to.
"Stop it!" Dorian shouted as he got to his feet. He wasn't sure who he was yelling at, but he grabbed Cullen's face and without thinking, he kissed him. He didn't stop kissing him even as they sank onto their knees, didn't falter at the taste of tears slipping between their lips, and didn't flinch when Cullen's hand weakly wrapped around his throat again.
Cullen was the one to finally pull away, hunching over into himself like he was hiding. Dorian realized Cullen had spoken quietly, asking him something, but it was drowned by heavy breathing and desperate sobs.
"What?" Dorian prompted.
Cullen looked up at him, his sorrow and desperation entirely unguarded, and asked, "Why won't you kill me?"
Dorian's breath left him in a rush as understanding struck him. And it hurt so much, all of it: realizing why Cullen had wanted to be with him during this struggle with lyrium, why he'd smiled when Dorian fought back, and it hurt Dorian even more to recognize the answer to the question.
"My dear Commander," he said with a shaky smile, reaching to brush away some of the tears. "I haven't considered killing you in months." He left the rest unsaid. He was not going to admit everything.
He did not need to. He knew Cullen too well, and Cullen already knew.