Dorian was walking past the stables, supposedly deserted except for the beasts, when he heard the shuddering whimper. It was coming from a stack of hay along the side of the creatures' abode. Dorian didn't know terribly much about farms or horses, but he was relatively certain a haystack should be inanimately silent. It was already well past nightfall, so there was no reason anyone should be here anyway; that in mind, the Tevinter approached the stack quietly and brushed some of the straw from the top to see who or what was there.
What he found was the Inquisitor. She was wrapped up in a protective ball, little sticks of hay stuck in her hair while the rest of her was covered by a thick blanket to keep the rough edges from getting caught. Based on the red around her eyes he imagined she must have been crying at some point and came out here to collect herself.
"Kaffas," he sighed, pulling her from the hay quickly and carefully. She had slept ill enough the previous night that even with the earlier nap she didn't rouse when he picked her up. One thing was certain: elven women were definitely quite slight of build, and it was like she hardly weighed anything. Dorian just gathered her up, let the blanket fall, and thought about what to do next.
The most obvious answer would be to return Belathen to her quarters. However, Dorian was fairly certain that Cullen was there, and if this was any indication they probably had a bit to discuss before waking up together again. Even if it was the last morning for a while she would be home. Cullen's rooms would be free, but Dorian had no confidence in his ability to get her up the ladder like this. He looked her over again, considering waking her forcefully, then thought better of it. She had an impossible day ahead of her.
With a sigh, Dorian headed to the only place left go him. Even Cullen hadn't entered the mage's quarters; nobody had since he joined the Inquisition. Even during his short-lived liaison with the Iron Bull, Dorian had kept his private room... private. But this was his best friend after all, and she certainly had earned some kindness.
Which is precisely how Belathen awoke the next morning, the morning daylight creeping in, to strange images. This was not anywhere she knew, she caught that as she stared at the ceiling, but she would know that stonework anywhere. This was definitely still her own Skyhold. As she rolled to her side, Bel was soon struck with the realization she was not in this bed alone. It took a few blinks to get the haze out of her eyes, but it soon resolved into the image of her best friend- and the cause of her current displeasure with her love. The memories of the previous night rushed back, causing her to groan.
As soon as she did, Bel learned just how quickly the Tevinter could move as he turned to meet her eyes. "Good morning," he greeted.
"Ah... good morning." Fenedhis, how did Dorian manage to look so put-together first thing in the morning? Even his hair seemed reluctant to ruffle itself! Belathen fought back the blush threatening her cheeks; Dorian was Cullen's lover, not hers. She forced herself to get a grip but caught the twinkle in his eyes. And he was enjoying her discomfort. Why was he her best friend again?
"I found you... checking the mounts, shall we say?" A single hand darted to her face, moving hair out of danger of ending up in her mouth. "I don't mean to pry but if you need an ear..." He just stopped there, letting the offer linger in the air unsaid.
Belathen took a deep breath. THIS was why he was her closest friend, excepting maybe Cullen. "Are you sure? It's a bit of complaining about the Commander."
"I can't say I've never tiffed with Cullen," Dorian noted. "Is this about his obsessive cleaning or the tendency to get upset if you don't act how he thinks you should act?"
Bel chuckled. "I actually don't mind those," she admitted. "This would be the excessive protectiveness."
"Oh." Dorian was suddenly sitting up like a shot from a bow. "You... found out."
"Solas doesn't ask for favors," Belathen noted. "So when he said he couldn't join I was surprised. Until I told Cullen and he barely reacted."
Dorian winced. "That man cannot act to save his life."
"No, he cannot."
"I am sorry. For my part in all this."
Belathen stretched and got up herself. The room was larger than many in the Keep, but strangely bare of personality. Not as she would have expected at all considering the owner. "It isn't your fault. Honestly I just feel selfish. To tell the truth, I want you there Dorian. I had been leaving you here for Cullen's sake since we arrived at Skyhold."
That explained a lot. Once they returned from the future, Bel had taken to heading out with Dorian whenever she could. Through the Storm Coast, the Mires, he had travelled at her side; then they got to Skyhold, and she had changed her tactics to the elf she called hahren. Dorian had thought it a Dalish thing; apparently, it was a Bel thing.
"I joined your Inquisition for a reason," Dorian reminded. "I would rather stick with you than stay here."
Belathen smiled. "I guess we both owe Cullen a thank you then."
"Do we string him along until after you judge the false Warden?"
"Well, he DID go behind my back..."