Dragon Age
"The Relic"
Chapter Two: Skyhold
Khrys felt the bed depress behind her and half rolled over toward it. She felt the presence of someone else in the room and that pulled her to a groggy, conscious state. She knew who it was. The Wolf still stalked her dreams, Solas still thought of her, but she'd found someone new…a lion this time. Michel de Chevin, the 'disgraced' Chevalier and former Champion to Celene, he was no longer disgraced as Gaspard offered him a full pardon for what had happened during the War of the Lions though his parentage remained concealed. He was grateful to Gaspard for not executing him when he had every right to but preferred to serve the Inquisition and, to his surprise, Gaspard granted him both the pardon and his choice of posts. It took time, a lot of time, and even more patience, but as much as Michel didn't want to admit he'd fallen in love with her, he had. Khrys' draw was undeniable and irresistible. He loved her completely and loved Gabriella like his own daughter.
"Amour," she heard him purr softly as he joined her in the bed. His gentle voice drawing her from sleep she rolled onto her back and felt Michel settle next to her trapping her with his arms.
Khrys smiled at his Orlesian term of endearment and he kissed her deeply. He hated leaving for weeks at a time and traveling with that damned thing named Cole, but loved the feeling of coming back to her. She snaked her right hand over his back through the darkness she could still see him. He broke from her lips and dropped his mouth to her neck gently kissing her. He loved the taste of her skin, soft and sweet. "Vhenan," she replied in kind smiling sweetly as she rubbed her right hand up and down his lean but strong back.
It was still dark, if the light or lack thereof, outside was anything to go by. Michel shifted his position bracing himself over her with both arms as she parted her legs letting him settle between them. He did miss her, a lot. Over three weeks away running down leads make her ache for him as well. She knew what she was in for now, a night of lovemaking…really good lovemaking. It was hard to get Michel into her bed but it was well worth the struggle.
After Corypheus was defeated Michel had returned to Orlais, cautiously, given that he was disgraced for treachery by Celene. There was a little more to it than that, Briala screwed him, he had Gaspard defeated and she called in her favor and he was honor-bound to obey. Gaspard was true to his word though, he pardoned him but still didn't insult the Champion by asking him to serve the man he'd bested in single combat. Michel loved being a Chevalier but his presence at the Academie was uncomfortable when half saw him as a traitor. He returned to the Skyhold nearly two years later when the Inquisition didn't disband as anticipated.
He fell back into service as an agent and as one of Cullen's Captains. Occasionally he left to follow a lead unusually with Fenris and Cole.
The longer he was near her, the more Michel found he was drawn to Khrys; she was beautiful, kind, and very sensible for a mage. There was pain in her past, a lot of it and she could see that and the same went for him but she didn't treat him like something that would break so he returned the favor. As much as he didn't want to get involved with her he couldn't help it. It started when he brought a Halla carving back from one of his missions to the Brecilian Forest, he'd remembered that her vallaslin was Ghilan'nain's before Solas removed it. It was a simple gesture that started it all but for a relationship that was pending for years.
Michel ran his left hand over her tiny body feeling her smooth skin under his fingers. She was comfortably sleeping on her stomach with as content a smile as he'd ever seen. It made him smile knowing that she was so happy with him. He was fine with her on her stomach; it gave him a free view and access to her small round ass. He caressed her buttocks and the small of her back as he slowly moved up her back. Her long white hair spilled out over her back and shoulders, she'd said that her hair used to be as black as ink until the stress of receiving the anchor turned her hair an impressive snow white. As clean and pure as the white hair looked he'd love to have seen it black. It was a small matter; she was beautiful no matter her hair color.
She purred and stirred as he tickled the middle of her back, the ticklish area on her and goosebumps rose on her skin. He smiled at her cat-like stretch as she moved her head to the side he was on to look at him. "Good morning," she mumbled with a smile.
Michel kissed her cheek. "Good morning," he replied.
"I hate it when you're gone so long," she said and Michel brushed a lock of her hair from her face. "How was Orlais?"
"Same as it always is," he replied with a snort. "I'm sorry I was gone so long, love."
"Well, you made a good start making it up to me last night," she giggled and Michel growled rolling her toward him onto her back.
She laughed looking up at him; Michel was stoic but when he was comfortable he was playful. "Who says it's over?" he smirked and took up a handful of her right breast.
"You promise?" she giggled grabbing the Lover's Knot necklace he wore pulling him to her as the Orlesian answered her question with a kiss and a soft chuckle.
He'd changed so much since joining the Inquisition and it was all because of her. He found what he needed in her, someone to trust, someone he didn't need to lie to. He told her his parentage early on; he wanted to be nothing but honest with her. He wasn't a noble in fact he was a bastard but he was the embodiment of the Chevaliers and that's what Gaspard saw. Despite his apprehension at falling for someone he swore to serve he let himself trust her and fell in love.
Skyhold was always busy, organized chaos, is what Khrys called it; Ant Farm was a closer description that Dorian used. In fifteen years a small town had sprung up where the military camp had been in the valley below Skyhold, unimaginatively called Herald…Khrys hated it but there was nothing she could do about it. It was still hard to get to despite the well-traveled route established by the Army. Ten years ago a faction of Orlesian soldiers that broke away from Gaspard's forces threatened to attack Skyhold if the Inquisition didn't leave. Cullen took the threat seriously but Khrys just chortled and told them to come if they dared. Gaspard quickly crushed the faction but not before they tried to make their way up the mountain only to get mired in chest deep snow.
Dorian's journey home from Denerim would have been considerably shorter if he took a ship from Denerim to Jader and then rode to Skyhold from there but he got sea sick just looking at the water. So, rather than making himself so sick he couldn't stand it, he took the extra week of travel. As he made his way up the road his guard split off and headed to the barracks in the precariously perched town below the fortress.
Over the years Skyhold had been completely upgraded and repaired, it was a gleaming fortress in the sky, probably the more impenetrable one in all of Thedas. Walls and battlements were upgraded by Dwarven builders and every roof and room was fixed, they did as much as they could to repair the prison but whatever let go under the foundation took a lot of the stability with it. It would probably never be repaired to its former glory but it was still an effective prison. Skyhold's interior had changed a bit too. The merchants were moved and no longer inside the hold, that area was dedicated to the stables. The barn had been rebuilt and was bigger holding twice as many horses, Dennett had long retired back to the Hinterlands and a young man named Ulrich Flynn was his replacement. Dennett spent a year grooming him to be his replacement and he was every bit as good as Dennett.
Most of the changes to Skyhold came in the form of battlements, structures, and walls and some cosmetic changes. The Herald's Rest was still there, managed by Cullen's wife Ariel, and the 'Mage Tower' served as housing for some of the mages and a library in itself. Fiona had started a Mage College but it grew too big to be housed in that Tower. There was a number of Templars present in Skyhold at all times. No matter how much the mages assured everyone that nothing could go wrong and there was no risk of possession Cullen remained wary. Thirty Templars maintained a constant presence in the keep much to the chagrin of the mages.
Skyhold was home for Dorian; his country was so unfamiliar to him now, all the ugliness normally hidden away by Tevinter bluster was dragged into the light after he joined the Inquisition. He knew Tevinter had its issues but being with the Inquisition culture shocked him seeing it all. He loved his country but it disgusted him with the way they treated people and acted toward anyone different, including him, one of the so called elite. He'd never take Bree there; her Elf blood would subject her to abuse that he never wanted her to experience. He'd never even introduced his mother to her grandchild, to be quite honest he wasn't sure how she would treat her. It scared him and that was the biggest reason why he hadn't done it. He didn't want to handle the shame he'd feel if his family turned their nose up at their elf-blooded grandchild. Not shame about Bree, he was quite proud of her, shame about his condescending, hypocritical, Tevinter family.
He dropped is horse off at the stables and then made his way into Skyhold passing various people who welcomed him back by name. He passed a few people who actually bowed, part of him enjoyed that but it bothered him more than anything else now. He may have been at the top tier of the Inquisition but it wasn't reason for someone to bow to him.
Dorian hoofed it up the steps and cursed every one of them, his legs tired from all the riding and occasional walking. He couldn't wait to take a nice hot bath and sleep in his bed fitted with all the Orlesian silk he could find. He may have lived in the most inhospitable environment but he wasn't a barbarian.
The heavy door closed behind Bree as she entered the Main Hall from the apartment wing where her room was located along with her father's. Gabriella Pavus was a beautiful girl, fifteen years old she and about five foot four, relatively the size as her mother who was barely five foot, really the only Elven thing she'd inherited from Khrys. Her hair was black as ink and always shiny; she had light blue eyes like her mother, and had the dark complexion of Dorian. She looked more Tevinter than Dalish but the human traits were dominant in a pairing like that. Her long black hair was braided up into a solid thick braid that hung down her back. She wore different shades of brown leather from head to toe as she pulled on dark brown supple leather gloves. As she headed out of the Main Hall she passed Cullen who was heading to his office from the restricted corridor to the War Table.
"Good morning, Cullen," she greeted with the bright smile that everyone in Skyhold was used to.
Cullen bowed to her respectfully. "Lady Bree," he greeted in kind. "Going riding?" he asked and she nodded, that was typical of her. She loved to ride. If she wasn't found in Skyhold odds were good that was out riding. "There's a new trail to the north east, my scouts cleared it two days ago."
She nodded to him gratefully and Cullen continued on through the rotunda and to his office. Cullen's role in with the Inquisition hadn't changed much. He was still the commander of their forces and Khrys' military advisor. He still worked more than he slept but he actually had gotten married and had been married for about ten years now. Ariel was among the refugees fleeing from the Mage-Templar War in the Hinderlands, when the Inquisition ended the fighting in the Hinterlands she came to the Skyhold refugee camp that became the town. When Cullen met Ariel for the first time eleven years ago the entire tavern could see him blushing like a teenager. They were married now with two children a daughter, Arabela who was eight and a son Bowen who was six.
On his way up Skyhold's seemingly endless supply of steps, Dorian passed Fenris who was sent to the Inquisition with information by Tess Hawke; she'd sent the former slave to Skyhold with a lead on one of Solas' operations twelve years ago. He was a valuable addition though his recruitment took some time. Fenris turned an interrogation that would have taken Cullen and Thom hours to complete into one that took under a minute. Showing off his nifty and extremely unnerving talent by putting his right hand into the spy's chest made the poor guy sing like a canary. Khrys had never been so impressed.
With Varric and Cullen in Skyhold, Fenris felt a little more at ease but he hated being surrounded by more Mages then he'd ever seen since being in Minrathous. Cole also unnerved him, the spirit was a puzzle to him but after going on a few outings with him he came to realize that they were an effective team. That didn't mean Fenris was by any means comfortable with the idea of a spirit having his back but the biggest crimp in Solas' plans over the years had two names; Cole and Fenris.
"Elf." He acknowledged.
"Mage." Fenris returned in kind. The Elf scowled to him, at first Dorian thought he'd always offended him but he soon realized that was Fenris' normal expression. Fenris wasn't a bad guy; at least he got to practice his Tevene with someone, albeit mostly curse words, but that someone was a man with the biggest and honestly best reason for a grudge against mages. He was a Lyrium Warrior, the rarest of Tevinter warriors, he'd never seen one and the first time he'd met Fenris he nearly pissed himself. Unfortunately, Fenris' personality was abrasive to say the least. He cared for Khrys and Bree liked him so Dorian gave him a little slack. Bree'd also had a crush on the mysterious Elf since she was 10 years old, he could see the appeal, it bothered him to some degree but on the same hand he couldn't blame her…the warrior was good looking, at least he raised her to have good taste…or poor taste if his mistakes were anything to go by.
Dorian groaned…he really needed to stop thinking about this. This was all Alistair's fault now every man he saw in Skyhold had the potential to be his daughter's lover or husband. Until the trip to Denerim she was just his little girl now she was of the age that suitors would come to call. "I'm going to kill Alistair," he thought happily, that would make him feel better but wouldn't make the problem go away since the planted seed already had roots.
Bree saw her father appear in the frame of the large main door. He grinned seeing her as he walked directly for her. "Daddy," Bree greeted smiling broadly and embraced him tightly as they met at the hearth by the Rotunda door.
"Hello, my dear," Dorian said and wrapped his arms around his daughter. It was impossible to put into words how much he missed her. She was dressed for riding, typical Bree, it was a beautiful day and he was actually surprised that she wasn't out riding already.
"How was Denerim?" she asked and he sighed heavily as she stepped back from him.
"Made me miss home actually or at the very least Orlais," he replied and Bree chuckled, a strange comment considering her father hated Orlais. He was proper and refined, used to being pampered. At Skyhold he didn't really get what he had grown up with but at Denerim and Val Royeaux he got treated like a king. "Going riding?"
She nodded, it was obvious, and he knew her well enough to know her routine. "Yeah. You?"
"Going up to speak with your mother," he said and Bree made a cringing face.
"You might want to wait, Dad," she said and Dorian could hear the next words before she said them. "Michel came back late last night."
Dorian paused. "Oh goody," he thought to himself more annoyed about that than anything else, Michel was a good man. The Chevalier had always gotten on his nerves though and refused to bend his code of honor even a little bit. "Ahh…well…I guess I'll go take a very long bath…after seventeen years no matter how much perfume I spritz everywhere Fereldan still smells like wet dog." Bree giggled and walked away from him. "Be careful, Love."
Dorian was happy to see his room, the four poster bed was covered with fine quality blankets and Orlesian silk, a little ostentatious for Skyhold but didn't care, he appreciated the finer things in life but everyone else just shook their heads. Servants saw him coming and scurried around readying his room, lighting the hearth and attending to anything else he might need. His only order, ready a bath. Denerim was warmer than Skyhold and the journey up the mountain reminded him how much he hated snow. He changed his clothes collected a few personal things and found the bath house empty. He locked the door and if he could have dove headfirst into the tub of steaming hot water he would have. A nice long soak would warm his cold body, he missed the warmth of Tevinter but Skyhold was easily a hundred times better than the Magisterium.
The water was hot and the steam succeeded in relaxing him, he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh but he couldn't let the idea of Bree getting betrothal offers go. He was still reeling from Alistair, King of Fereldan, offering his only son and heir as a match. That would make Bree a Queen if it took place. At least Alistair didn't appear to be interested in political gain and he was right, Duncan was a good kid. Well spoken, smart, a little quiet but he didn't hold that against him, and had a wonderful sense of humor. This was aggravating him; he'd been thinking about this the whole damn journey from Denerim. Bree was his little girl, his only little girl, the one thing in his life that he was actually proud of. Inevitably, she would grow up but he was nowhere near ready for this.
He sighed again hearing the attendant come in and poured another pale of hot water into his tub as Dorian paid him no mind.
"You think you will lose her." Cole stated, suddenly appearing in the room out of thin air.
Dorian jumped at the sudden voice in the room and Cole's presence, causing the water to slosh, splashing some over the lip and onto the floor. "Andraste's ass, Cole!" he barked. "What are you doing in here?!"
"You think you will lose her. Or that she'll resent you for forcing her to do it," Cole continued, ignoring the concept of privacy that still eluded him. "She won't."
Dorian grumbled to the Spirit. "What? Won't resent me or I won't lose her?" he asked in a bitter tone.
"You are 'Daddy', no one else makes her feel as safe as you do, not Cullen, or Michel, or Mama…you," he spouted quickly and then finally looked at him coming out of his 'trance' like readings. "You are not your parents, Dorian," he added and Dorian blinked.
Dorian became acutely aware of the fact he was naked sitting in a tub having this rather one sided conversation. "I'd much rather discuss this when I'm a little less indisposed."
"The attendant wants you to take him to bed," Cole said and Dorian's brow furrowed. Cole was still an enigma, a Spirit outside the fade, most people had gotten used to him prattling on but it was still unnerving.
"Perfect," he droned more annoyed than anything else. "Out." Cole obeyed and vanished the same way he came in "you are not your parents" Dorian thought repeating the line from Cole. He knew that, but he was protective of his little girl. He grumbled to himself and splashed water in his face trying to think of something, anything else for a while. Now his thoughts drifted to Cole's last comment, the attendant wanted to sleep with him. Well, at least he could still turn a head or two. He'd seen this man before; an Orlesian man somewhere around twenty-five, considerably younger than he was now and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't flattered. When Bree was born his romantic life came to a halt by his own design. He devoted himself to raising Bree and his relationship at the time, Bull, commended him for it. Bull respected his wishes and let Dorian move at his own pace. Excruciatingly slow to the point that Bull and he drifted apart.
He wasn't interested, he had someone he loved, someone he wanted more than anything all the time but he couldn't have him all the time, he served Starkhaven. His right hand went to the bear-tooth necklace given to him by Balian and fiddled with it. A bit rustic for him but it was the meaning behind it, he groaned loudly and sank deeper into the water up to the jaw line he missed Balian. When the hell did he become so damn complicated?
Khrys wasn't exactly sure what time it was, no one had come to find her but most people who were important enough to come to her chambers because they needed her knew that if Michel had been gone for a while and had just returned it was in their best interests to leave the pair alone. Unless Skyhold was under attack by a damn dragon or Fen'Harel himself it could wait or be handled by army of advisors and aids she had. Food had been sent up with both of their favorite breakfast on the tray and a small vase with a single Chrystal Grace in it. The Elf kitchen worker blushed wildly as handsome Chevalier accepted the tray at the bottom of the steps. The loose white shirt he was wearing revealed his lean muscles and past battle scars. He was the talk of Skyhold and in the upper echelon of 'best looking guys on campus' he was taken however and happy with that, everyone in Skyhold could see that he wore her favors every day. Between the dragon webbing fabric always displayed on his armor and left half of the Lover's Knot it was inescapably clear that he was spoken for. That didn't mean he wasn't flattered with people dropping stuff simply because they were distracted by him.
The food on the tray had been picked apart by Michel and Khrys set between them on the bed with him at the foot and Khrys sitting cross legged leaning against the headboard. He noted that still after all this time she was still self-conscious about the loss of her left forearm. She covered it up and hid it in clothing whenever she could. Even now half naked on the bed she used the blankets to try to hide it. Part of him could understand it when she was in public, but in private with him she had nothing to fear, no judgement, nothing that needed hiding. She was a beautiful woman, smart, kind, and funny the loss of her arm to something she had absolutely no control over didn't diminish any of her attributes. Every time he mentioned something about it Khrys recoiled like she was ashamed of it so he didn't press her too much about it, when she was ready to talk, if she ever was, he'd listen but for now it wasn't important.
"A single Chrystal Grace…" he began gently touching the flowers soft pedals with his right hand as he lounged sideways on the bed. "let me guess…Bree."
Khrys smiled. "She probably heard you came back last night and figured you'd be up here all day," she said blushing at the sight of him at the foot of her bed. She thanked the creators for him every day, he was so good to her, treated her like a Queen but wasn't afraid to lock horns with her when they had a disagreement. She liked that, it was same reason that she'd liked Solas, though Michel wasn't an ancient Elf bent on destroying the world because of a temper tantrum. She was grateful that he was able to look beyond his own past and trust her, he conditioned himself to forget the bastard peasant boy and was almost ashamed of what he was then he'd been manipulated by an Elf and it cost him everything. If he hadn't opened himself up she'd still be alone.
Michel lifted the tray off the bed and set it down on the floor with his right hand but took the flower from the vase on the way back up. "Have I become that predictable?" he asked his tone light with a snort.
Khrys shrugged. "You were never really that hard to figure out, Vhenan," she replied with a smile as he scooted up the bed to sit where she was.
"Is that so?" he asked still playing with her as he shook the droplets of water off the flowers stem.
"You've been the same since I met you in the Du Lion, a kind and honorable man," she replied trying to figure out what he was going to do with the pale blue flower.
She was right, his core beliefs had never changed, he was driven by the Chevalier code…he lived by it. He spent the majority of his life living a lie but thankfully, honor was not exclusive to the nobles. He heeded his code even when it cost him the most and that was why Gaspard didn't kill him on the spot.
Michel smiled to her. "I've loved you since you killed that demon. You were my Champion that day." he said quietly as he rose to his knees tucking the flower behind her left ear and brushing the knuckles of his right hand down her cheek. "And I will love you forever."
Khrys ducked her head blushing like mad, her blushing smile made him smile as well and he lifted her chin gently with his left hand kissing her softly. Their position changed as she straddled over his lap feeling his hand right hand brace her at the small of her back and his left hand run his fingers through her long, thick, and impossibly silky soft white hair. "I love you," she said softly as her right hand traced down his face.
Dorian made his rounds around Skyhold; he'd been given several tasks to do while in Denerim so he was now handling the back hauls. He didn't mind really, it made no difference to him. He'd learned his place in the Inquisition and most of the people who asked him to do something he was more than happy to help. He delivered messages to Josephine and chatted with the Ambassador for a while discussing juicy gossip in Denerim then he moved on to Charter and passed information to the Spymaster before headed through the rotunda to Cullen's office. He had to admit that Charter wasn't nearly as scary as Leliana but he still didn't want to be on the wrong side of the Spymaster when she was pissed off. He'd see her put an arrow in someone's eye from so far away he could barely see them. Black Heart they called her and that alone should scare the hell out of anyone.
The crisp mountain air hit him with a refreshing blast as he crossed the bridge to his destination. Before Fenris had arrived the Commander was his favorite person to irritate, it was too easy and thus became his favorite pastime.
"Commander," Dorian greeted as he closed the door behind him.
Cullen looked up briefly from the note he was reading and grunted a response before returning his attention to the note. Appearance wise Cullen had changed little in fifteen years. He looked almost exactly the same, Dorian envied him. He retained the rugged handsomeness without looking any older, only his hair showed his age and the stress he'd endured as the temples had begun to fleck with grey. And still he wore his trademark lion armor every day. Practical in its purpose, they were still under a threat, but not at an all-out war…yet. Cullen preferred to remain ready at all times hence the armor he wore on a daily basis.
"How does he do it?" Dorian thought to himself and stepped to the desk holding out a bundle of letters and scrolls. "Correspondence from Broiny in Denerim," he said sounding vaguely interested in the task. "Somehow I got turned into a silk dressed messenger boy."
Cullen took the letters and began to sort through them. "At least you finally found a suitable job," he sniped and Dorian actually grinned.
"Such sass, Commander," he cackled grinning. "I like it when you do that."
Cullen was used to this, Dorian enjoyed prodding him and he knew that. Aside from Khrys and Malcolm, Dorian provided him a challenge at Chess. He was his favorite Chess partner, in fact, so much that they had a weekly chess game set up. He allowed a half smile and went back to what he was doing but felt the all too familiar sharp pain scream from his left temple to the right one. Cullen closed his eyes and groaned a little bracing his right hand on the desk and leaning on it.
Dorian observed him and narrowed his eyes a little; he didn't move to help him even though he knew what the problem was. Cullen wouldn't accept it even if he could do something. "Headache?"
Cullen simply nodded once allowing the pain to subside. The headache would spread through his nerves and make them feel like they were on fire, every injury he'd ever sustained would hurt as well; he was in for a bad day and was prepared for that. He dreaded the pain, ever since he broke four ribs and his left shoulder five years ago the flare ups hurt more than usual.
"The tonic's not working anymore?" he inquired but it was more like a statement.
As the pain passed Cullen stood up straight and regained his composure. "Not as well. Sometimes even when I take it, it doesn't stop the pain…just dulls it."
When Cullen stopped taking the Lyrium he was plagued by near debilitating pain. Nerve pain, headaches, nausea, body aches, the works. It could and would kill him eventually. Thirteen years ago Elan Ve'mal, Skyhold's apothecary, created an herbal tonic to help soothe the pain that Cullen experienced daily. It took time and a lot of trial and error but she was able to refine the mix and improved Cullen's quality of life dramatically. When he started with it one dose was good enough to keep him pain free for two weeks or so. No pain, no headaches, and it even helped with the nightmares. Then a few years passed and the length of time between was down to a week, then a few times a week, now it was twice a day and it wasn't working nearly as well. To say it was losing its effectiveness was a monumental understatement.
Dorian took a few steps closer to him. "I know Elan and Birch are still working to improve it. I haven't come up with anything ground breaking in my research as of yet," he said and Cullen's pride showed through in his posture. He was grateful for the researchers, the apothecaries, and mages who were working to help him. "Maybe Morrigan can help."
Cullen looked at him sharply in an almost scolding manner. "I'd rather have you touch me than have that bloody witch come anywhere near me," he growled before realizing that his phrasing wasn't exactly proper.
Dorian couldn't resist. "Well…the truth finally comes out," he smirked as Cullen rolled his eyes at the mage's heavy innuendo. "I knew you'd come around."
"That's not what I mean…I-…" Cullen defended growing as uncomfortable and embarrassed as ever.
Dorian held up his hand and allowed a soft chuckle. "I know what you meant, you're just so much fun to tease, Commander, an easy target," he pacified but could still see the former Templar's slightly red cheeks.
The far door opened and Knight-Captain Lysette entered. Lysette was a recruit long ago and now commanded the Templars in Skyhold. In Cullen's hierarchy of people under his command Lysette was in the top five of his ranking system. "Commander, I didn't mean to interrupt."
Cullen shook his head; he was very much done with Dorian before he embarrassed himself further by phrasing things the wrong way. "No, its fine, Lysette."
"Captian," Dorian nodded at Lysette who gave him a slight bow. "Commander, chess later?"
Cullen nodded but maintained his focus on why Lysette was there. "Fine," he replied, his typical response, as Dorian left. Dorian had spent time in Denerim's library looking at books that might provide some help in figuring out Cullen's dilemma, ultimately a dilemma for all Templars that went off the Lyrium.
It had been hours since he'd returned; at least four and Khrys still hadn't come down from her chambers. He doubted that she even knew he was back. The elf-blooded Chevalier must be a skilled lover indeed, Michel had never done anything to earn his ire but it was the fact that he was a Chevalier that Dorian disapproved of, he used to not care but events recently had colored his opinion. Dorian remembered clearly when Khrys recruited Michel de Chevin in the frozen hellhole of the Du Lion. Next to that bloody undead infested bog in southern Fereldan the Emprise Du Lion was his least favorite place in all of Thedas and that was saying a lot given all the places he'd been.
He was a good man although he did send them to a fight that squarely occupied a place on Dorian's top five worst fights ever list. Taking Suledin Keep was awful, if it wasn't the Giants and the swarms of Red Templars, Imshael certainly stepped up the difficulty factor. Three Mages, a Warrior, and Cole had a bitch of a time trying contain the damn demon enough to weaken it so Solas could send his ass back to the Fade permanently.
On his way up the steps he didn't hear anything too inappropriate but even if he had it was time for them to come up for air. He passed by her two Templar guards, it was hard to get used to seeing people other than Tristan and Corbin, the two Templars that'd been her guards since Haven. Gerard, the Orlesian, was tall dark and handsome and Declan was from Denerim, blonde, and looked a lot like Cullen. Fereldan's gene pool was apparently only so big.
"I hope I'm not coming at a bad time," Dorian announced making sure to emphasize his innuendo as clearly as possible.
He heard the familiar growl from Michel, for as stoic as Michel was the lion liked to growl…especially at him. He was the embodiment of the Orlesian lion; growly, quiet, dangerous, and vicious. It alarmed him to no end realizing that he knew the growl so well he didn't even have to see him to know who it was coming from. He knew he irritated the Chevalier, most of it revolved around him being a Mage, from Tevinter, and generally obnoxious when he teased him.
"Don't bother to knock," Michel snarled to the invasion of their privacy the irritation in his voice was something Dorian was very much used to.
Dorian reached the landing and rounded the railing heading for the couch. He paid no attention to Khrys quickly covering herself with her robe. "I did. Twice," he answered taking in a deep breath and wrinkled his nose. "It smells like an Antivan brothel in here…Dear de Chevin, be a lamb and open those doors." Dorian poked at the sore spot for Michel, his blood, not that Dorian had anything against it but it was a way to tease him.
Michel glowered at Dorian and had to remind himself why he didn't kill the magister on sight for being rude or downright annoying. "He's Bree's father and Khrys' best friend," he reminded himself. "Khrys," he implored, trying to come up with a reason not to throw Dorian back down the steps.
Khrys giggled a little and patted her loves back as she passed him. "He's teasing you, Vhenan."
Dorian smirked and sat down on the couch like he owned the place. He'd slept on that specific couch quite a bit when Bree was a baby and it was just as comfortable as it was then. He spent the first year of Bree's life camped on that couch and a few months before that. He crossed his legs and stretched his arms out across the back of the couch. "It's about time you two came up for air anyway. It's nearly midday. You're making the rest of us look bad, Michel, the stamina of a Champion has not been oversold."
Michel gave him a sarcastic smile as he straightened his clothing. "Did you want something, Dorian, or did you just come here to be rude?" Michel had nothing against Dorian, when they met they were mostly indifferent about each other and all through the fight against Corypheus it was the same. When he began his relationship with Khrys Dorian's attitude toward him changed. They didn't really like each other but they had two things in common. Khrystabel and Gabriella were the most important things in Thedas to them, so they tolerated each other.
"I need to speak to Khrys," he stated and noticed the flower in her hair. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head with a lingering smile. "So you did pay attention in the brothel in Antiva…stepping up the romance a bit."
"I have courted women before." He responded, the irritation in his voice was only amplified by the smirk on Dorian's face. Rather than kill him for being an ass Michel decided to bow out. Dorian purposely did this to get a rise out of him but to his shock he'd started getting used to it. He glared again and huffed turning his eyes to Khrys. "I'm going to go…I will leave you to him."
Dorian didn't look away as Khrys grabbed a handful of Michel's shirt pulling him close rising up on her toes to kiss him. Michel was a tall man for one who was Elf-blooded and damned handsome, the scars on the left side of his face a reminder of the day he lost everything. He allowed a slight smile, he liked seeing Khrys happy. She'd been a mess for a long while after Solas left, then came back, took her arm, and dropped a brand new mess on her head. Michel made her happy; he was the only Chevalier he respected by he wouldn't tell him that.
Michel left their sight to change his clothes as Khrys did what Dorian suggested and opened the balcony doors to let the fresh air in and the musky sex smell out. "How was Denerim?"
"Oh, you know a little less barbaric then the rest of Fereldan," he said sarcastically and sighed. "Lydia and Alistair are doing well. But the best part…you are not going to believe."
Khrys eyed him confused as Michel came out of where he'd hid to change his clothes in record time. Dorian observed another one of their little moments and the sweet kiss that he gave her just before leaving. They couldn't keep their hands off each other apparently and he almost felt bad for interrupting them. Michel eyed him on the way out but said nothing. He was good to Khrys and protected Bree so the mutual toleration. "So what happened?" she asked gesturing to the tea she was pouring.
Dorian shook his head and fiddled with the book on the couch beside him, reading the title, Second Shield…Michel's book. "Alistair and Lydia suggested Duncan as a match for Bree."
Khrys froze in mid sip of her tea and looked at him with a furrowed brow. "He did what?"
Dorian cast the book aside and sighed. "Yep, he and Lydia sat me down, served me a Tevinter Red and told me that they thought Bree and Duncan would make a cute couple. Don't get me wrong, Duncan's a good kid and I like him but…"
"She's only fifteen," Khrys finished and set her tea cup down beginning to pace and fidget.
Dorian smiled thankful that she could see his point of view. "My thoughts exactly," he agreed.
Khrys couldn't get over the obvious question, the one that shocked her more than the actual question. "Why would they offer their only son, the heir to their kingdom? Bree's not an heir to anything except maybe Skyhold but we're a military fortress not a noble house," she mused, trying to understand this. Nobles didn't marry for love or at least extremely few did, their marriages were for gain. "The only nobility she has comes from you. Why would they want Duncan to have someone with no standing…or at least not a lot? Why not one of Sebastian's daughters or Gaspard's…he has a daughter right?"
Dorian nodded. "Charlotte, yes," he said then paused not sure how he became so familiar with other peoples' families.
"Right," she said and sighed heavily. "So, what did you say?"
"A huge, resounding, no," he answered. "She's only fifteen and I'm not going to force her into anything that she doesn't want to do," he explained sounding as adamant as possible. "I'll commend them in the fact that they did it in person and never mentioned a quid pro quo but…"
"Quid pro quo for what? The Inquisition's neutral, we don't have anything," she said took a drink of her tea before setting it back down, thinking.
"I'd be more comfortable if Malcolm was the suitor…at least I know he doesn't have anything except an insane father," Dorian said and Khrys chuckled slightly.
"Anders isn't nearly as insane as he used to be…we can thank the Nightmare for that," she said dryly and Dorian actually agreed with that.
"I still say no," he repeated. "Not yet…she's too young. Let her be a kid a little while longer," he said and saw her turn back toward him with a familiar look on her face. He didn't like that look. "Uh oh…I know that look. You're about to disagree with me aren't you?"
She sighed and sat down beside him. "I think it couldn't hurt to let them meet and see what happens," she hedged, and saw Dorian fidget a little. "You said you liked him."
Dorian scoffed and shook his head. "Not enough to marry my daughter."
She giggled at him. Dorian's best and worst quality as a father was that he was over protective, but over protective when it came to the people around her not her hobbies and activities. He mentored her growing magical talent and even encouraged her to go riding on her own. His issues were with people around her, new people and up until now he never worried about men. "Ahh, Dorian…always the over protective father," She said warmly with a smile, it was a quality in him that she really did love. She loved Dorian and always would. "You can't keep her your little girl forever."
"Watch me try," he said firmly and quickly. Dorian didn't have what Khrys did, she had Michel and Dorian had put his personal life on hold to focus on Bree he didn't have a stable relationship, he had Bree. He doted on her and spent as much time with her as possible, reading, teaching, everything his father did for him but without the judgement.
"Dorian," she began and he sighed.
"No," he repeated.
"Dorian, listen, there is no harm in letting them meet," she tried again, and curled her feel under her shifting position to lean against him. "You raised an amazing girl."
Dorian let her snuggle up to him and put his left arm around her. "Me? I didn't do it alone," he chuckled.
"The incessant stubbornness is all you," she insisted with a giggle. "Think about what will happen if you keep her from this. She's too young to get married but if you keep her from this 'opportunity' and Alistair's right about them being a good match and they like each other…"
She felt Dorian's chest heave a heavy sigh. "I don't think I can, Khrys," he said quietly.
"Try," she requested quietly, and Dorian was quiet, thinking about this. When he took a step back and looked beyond his over protective father reservations he realized there was no logical reason he had to keep them from at the very least being introduced. He let him fingers lightly rake though her hair, an odd sight to the outside observer but his affection for Khrys wasn't sexual. Apart from the one night together nearly sixteen years ago he never looked at her in that way but he did love her. "When did I become so complicated?"
