The belief that he had utterly and completely failed his master by coming back too late to reconcile with him had done something to Dorian.
He wasn't sure exactly what it was; if he simply didn't care or if he had just given up on everything, but he went back to Minrathous, picking up from where he had left it to an even greater extent. And this time, he didn't give a damn about who saw him and what he did.
All he knew is that… it didn't matter anymore. He was angry, he was hurting, he was lost and confused, and if he went home, then he would all but surrender himself to a life of absolute misery and grief.
He would be the son who dropped out of an important position at the Circle, the underdog with no colleagues because he thought differently than the others. Married to a woman he would never be able to love, never be able to please and, at best, he would be her arm-candy.
A prised stallion who would be unable to be used for mating.
And while his parents and his future wife nagged and prodded him about impregnating her, he would sit there and nod. Nod and wait until his father died so he could take over his position in the Magisterium, a position he didn't even want.
That would be his life.
He would be living a lie for the rest of his life.
A lie that would eventually kill him.
No.
He just couldn't live that sort of life. Trapped in a gilded cage, trapped in himself, screaming on the inside, clawing to get back on the outside.
No, if he was going to die, then he would die doing it his way and he could might as well die having some fun.
He hadn't cared about doing it gradually.
Once he was back in Minrathous, he went to one of his favourite taverns and ordered himself a bottle of wine to start with, and he hadn't stopped with one. He drank until he saw double and once he saw double of a very attractive man, he seduced him and took him back to the inn he was staying at for a night of pleasure, not caring who saw him.
In fact, he wanted people to see him.
Dorian Pavus, son of Halward Pavus, drinking and fucking around as he damned well pleased without a care in the fucking world.
After all, what did he have going for him? He had no friends, no allies, no real status of his own except being the "son of a Magister" and there was nothing, nothing that he had done that he could be proud off.
He was a tool, he was weak and he was flawed.
It was easier to fall into the temptation of just absolutely surrendering himself to the alcohol and the pleasure because maybe, just maybe, the pain would go away.
He could live with the shame, but the pain...? He wasn't sure he could handle that one.
This… This was just easier and, if he was lucky, the alcohol would kill him before some sort of robber would.
At least then he would die without thinking or feeling anything.
It didn't take long before he was the talk of the town and the rumours… To Dorian's surprise, they were tame. They weren't positive no, but they weren't negative either, at least not those he heard.
People described him as a "dangerously free spirit", which Dorian guessed was fancy-talk for someone with breeches looser than those of a whore's, but he didn't care.
He wasn't sure when the shift happened, but he welcomed it with open arms as men started approaching him instead of the other way around. He would drink and eat with them, laugh with them and come home with them for a round or two in the hay.
Some asked him to stay, but he never did. He always, always left before dawn because he didn't want to look at the night's conquest. Not because he was afraid he had dragged him something that was more darkspawn than human, but because he couldn't bare himself to.
He was living a fantasy and looking at it with clearer eyes, the haze of alcohol lifted from his mind… It made it too real.
Because this wasn't who he was at the same time as it was.
He had been a rebel. A scholar. A scientist and a researcher. Now he was lower than a whore because he didn't take any payment except for alcohol and food.
He wished he would care.
He got several messages from people saying they wanted to speak to him. He thought he recalled a few notes from Magister Tilani and even a letter from Rilenius, but he ignored them.
He didn't want to speak to either one of them.
The letters from his family immediately went into the fire as he didn't even want to see what they contained. Probably more angry words and demands for him to come home.
Before long, his own private savings had started to dry out, but by then, Dorian was in a state of simply not caring. He didn't think about the days to come, he only cared about here and now. He was alive right now and he had needs right now.
Tomorrow would bring whatever it did tomorrow.
Despite the sudden lack of money, Dorian found that he had no trouble getting exactly what he wanted whenever he wanted.
Not that his demands or needs were very high or even expensive.
In a way, he suddenly had more of an understanding when it came to the seductresses and suave gentlemen, playing their victims until they got what they wanted from them. It was exactly what Dorian was doing, but unlike them, he didn't play with the hearts of his victims. He was simple in his demands and he laid it out clear. It was sex, nothing more.
He knew that he could count his blessings that he was as handsome as he was. He was a beauty; he was young, he was fit, with lean muscles and soft, unmarred skin. He was flexible thanks to his training and he was willing.
He was perfect.
And Dorian had to admit, it made him feel good. He was wanted and he had a different power than before. Yes, he submitted his body more often than not, wanting his "victims" to do the job so he could just enjoy the ride, but he was hardly passive. He was aggressive, taking what he wanted and he made damn sure that he reached his own, satisfying end.
As time went by, Dorian became less careful. He was still successfully avoiding messengers and henchmen sent by his parents, helpfully tipped off by the tavern's owners or his more frequent partners, but he was still leaving trails as to where he went.
He lived as he was in a permanent daze; unfazed, uncaring, taking it as it came.
That's when he met the son of Lord Ulia Abrexis.
Lord Abrexis wasn't a Magister, but he was wealthy and he was eager to please the Magisterium by throwing large parties in support of whoever Magister he was trying to please that week. Dorian had attended one of his parties and while it had been a lavished one, it had been dull and uneventful.
Of course, nothing could top the party where the Archon had shown up, killing one Magister and then leaving before the dance was even over.
Lord Abrexis party had had one interesting thing though and that was his son.
Tall, handsome, not very gifted in magic or brains, but Braxin Abrexis had gorgeous brown eyes, tanned skin and a muscled body that was simply to die for. They hadn't spoken with one another, but the looks they had shared…
Dorian hadn't expected to see Lord Braxin Abrexis again, but their eyes had met as Dorian had been busy polishing off his second or third glass of wine for the evening, drinking away the night in a dark pub near the Minrathous docks.
Seeing Braxin here was a surprise in itself, but for him to approach him was an even bigger surprise.
"So… It is true then."
"Depends on what truth you have heard," Dorian replied, smirking some as he downed the last of his wine, then set his glass away. "Share and I can either confirm or deny."
Braxin didn't say anything about it. Instead he smiled and sat down next to Dorian, nodding at the innkeeper. "Two more of whatever he had." After glancing at Dorian, he smirked and winked. "On me, of course."
"Ah, you are already speaking my language," Dorian murmured, his mind already a little foggy from the strong wine, but far from drunk. "I knew I liked you, Lord Abrexis."
"Call me Braxin."
"We shall see if I do, as the evening progresses," Dorian murmured, accepting the wine as it was offered to him by the bartender.
"Now… You had heard some rumours about me?"
"I had indeed. Some rather unflattering ones. That the great Altus had fallen from grace and was now selling his body as some common whore?"
Dorian let out a laugh before taking a deep gulp from his wine. "My dear Lord Abrexis," he chuckled, licking his lips slowly to get the droplets of wine from them.
"I can assure you, I do not sell anything, let alone my body. By selling something, one implies that currency is exchanged between two or more hands."
He took another gulp from his wine, savouring the taste of the rich, red liquid as it filled his mouth. He paused, letting Lord Braxin wait while he enjoyed himself before letting his gaze fall back onto the young man.
"I, on the other hand, am having fun and I am refusing to hide it nor be ashamed of it. I have been silent for far too long and I am here now, in the open and showing off my feathers. And if my… Ah. Company insists on treating me to food or drink, then who am I to say no? My family did not raise a barbarian, it is rude to refuse gifts."
He almost believed it himself, the words that came flowing out of his mouth. They spoke of truth he wasn't sure he believed in, of courage he didn't have and of confidence he had never known.
But he didn't need to believe it as long as the others did.
Braxin just chuckled and nipped at his own wine, eyes roaming heavily over Dorian. "I see. That is… admirable. Yes, I admire it."
"I am something to admire," Dorian replied, his own eyes trying to meet and challenge Braxin.
"You are indeed," Braxin murmured before lowering his voice.
"You know, Lord Pavus… You have always been on the tip of people's tongue, for more reason than one. And the work you accomplished while still in the circle was… Impressive."
"One of my many talents. I am quite… Impressive. In so many ways."
"Of that I do not doubt," Braxin chuckled before continuing. "My father is… away, for a little while. Leaving me in charge of the household."
"And?" Dorian asked, raising an eyebrow even though he knew what Braxin was implying.
"And I was wondering if you would like to… spend a few days there. We can speak more, of your accomplishments and such. Get to know one another, as two lords and gentlemen."
Dorian knew very well what they meant.
This was an invitation for them to seek refuge in a more private place where they could drink and fuck to their hearts content without worrying about their reputation or anyone seeing them.
Now how could he refuse such a grand invitation?
"I assume I will be fed and watered if I accept your most… Generous invitation?" Dorian asked with a small grin.
"I can assure you, I will accommodate all of your needs, as your host. After all, I am inviting you to be my guest," Lord Braxin replied, his own grin mirroring Dorian's.
"My, my," Dorian hummed, running his finger over the rim of his wine-glass. "I did not think you had that in you, Lord Braxin. Colour me surprised."
"There are much you don't know about me, Lord Pavus," Braxin replied. "Perhaps we can both find out… A little bit more about one another? As gentlemen, of course."
"As gentlemen," Dorian echoed, his eyes sparkling with interest as he let his foot gently bump, then slide over Braxin's.
"Well, consider my interest tickled and your offer accepted. You are right, we should get to know one another. For future reference, of course. It is important to uphold good relations with one another, yes?"
"Of course," Braxin replied as he stood up, gesturing his hand towards the exit. "Shall we? I can have my carriage come here in but a few minutes."
"Lets. I believe our business here has been concluded for now," Dorian agreed as he stood up, letting his arm brush against Braxin's arm as he passed him.
"I am looking forward to further… Discussions at your home."
The knowing smirk that appeared on Braxin's face told Dorian that he too was very much looking forward to it.