Note:

This story is based on a playthrough of me and one of my best friends. We decided to team up to make a certain mage wickedly happy, and ended up quite pleased with the roguishly handsome Inquisitor we created. However, the first kiss scene after going to the meeting with Halward still feels strange to me, as does going into bed with Dorian before really talking things through. I want my Dorian utterly loved, and the Inquisitor we built can do that, I knew. So, as a treat for my friend, I began to write this story. Crossposted from Archive of Our Own.
It is mostly conversations between the Inquisitor and Dorian, since the overall plot of the game is well known. Do not be surprised to find it referred to only briefly, and for other characters to make only cameo appearances. This is the story of the seduction of Dorian Pavus, and thus, a comedy in the classic sense of drama. Hence the Shakespeare allusion in the title.
Hope you enjoy the ride!

Chapter 1 - That Damned Smile

Things had become difficult, that much was for sure. Yes, ancient darkspawn magisters, undead archdemons, red lyrium templars, time bending magic - those were all threats and cause for concern, Dorian Pavus mused, but none were as dangerous to him as that smile.

Maker...

Sitting in the newly established tavern of Skyhold, a few weeks after the fall of Haven, Dorian slowly came to realize he was in serious trouble. Not because he had fled his family before they could perform some horrible blood magic ritual, intend on turning him into a potato without a will (a very dashing potato, yes, but a mindless vegetable still). Not even because he had joined the Inquisition, a religious movement that caused him to risk his life for a greater good he actually believed in. No, it was that smile, that damned smile on the Inquisitor's face.

Liam Trevelyan, a nobleman from Ostwick in his twenties, was clearly one of the Maker's better creations. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscled but rather sinewy, with unkempt brown hair and eyes of such piercing blue colour that it was hard to look elsewhere. Except of course that smile.

The young man had been a quick favourite with many even during their time in Haven, but now that he was Inquisitor, there were many women and even some men in Skyhold who swooned whenever he entered the room. A skilled dual-wielding rogue who moved with the grace of a predator, Liam was every maiden's fantasy, and there was no denying he was growing into the role of Inquisitor. Whenever he spoke these days, he either exuded an aura of confident leadership or an aura of smug confidence that bordered on flirtatiousness.

Seeing Liam now, leaning against the bar of the tavern, laughing with Flissa the barkeeper in a way that was clearly seductive, made Dorian's heart race. The boy Dorian had been stuck in the future with had been likeable and very intriguing, but the man Liam was growing into at an alarming rate was painfully attractive. That Inquisitor could very well prove to be Dorian's undoing, he knew. And the worst thing about it was that while Dorian was his usual carefree, flirty self, he had not yet told Liam the truth about his inclinations... nor was he sure he ever would. The Inquisitor was from a very religious family, after all, so his views on men preferring the company of men might be more traditional. Still, when Liam took two mugs of ale from Flissa and turned around, his piercing blue gaze met Dorian's for a moment, and that damnable handsome Inquisitor smiled at him and gestured towards the table where he was sitting with Varric.

"Pavus, do come here!"

Dorian took a deep breath, smoothing out his intricate robes in an attempt to appear nonchalant, though inside, his heart fluttered erratically. He slowly rose from his seat, sashaying with a deliberate ease towards the table where the Inquisitor sat with Varric. His approach was that of a man who was very aware of every eye on him, but he pretended to be oblivious.

The dwarf, with his keen senses, picked up on the slight tension and greeted Dorian with his characteristic wry grin, "Took you long enough, Sparkler. Thought you'd melted in your seat from all that... intense staring."

Dorian rolled his eyes, his usual playful smirk returning. "Ah, my dwarven friend, always the observant one, aren't you? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're jealous of all the attention showered on our revered Inquisitor's here," he teased, flicking a glance towards Liam.

"And here I thought I was everyone's favourite," Varric replied, taking a long swig of his drink. "Guess being a best-selling author isn't enough these days, with a hole in the sky and all that."

The Inquisitor, in the midst of this banter, looked slightly taken aback but thoroughly amused. Dorian took the opportunity to sit next to him, leaning back with an air of casual grace.

"Well, my dear Inquisitor, I do hope you got that tankard for me. I'd hate to think you'd favour a best-selling author over your most charming Tevinter mage."

Liam's piercing blue eyes twinkled, and he slid one of the mugs towards Dorian. "Only if you promise to share," he replied with a smirk.

Dorian chuckled, "Oh, I always share... when it suits me." He took a sip from the mug, his eyes never leaving Liam's.

Varric, sensing the growing tension between the two, cleared his throat. "You know, there's a tale from Kirkwall about sharing drinks. It usually ends with both parties regretting it the next morning."

Dorian raised an eyebrow, "Is that so? I may have heard that one. There was a roguish pirate queen involved. And didn't this tale also include a broody elf and a verbose dwarf?"

Varric chuckled, "You know, Sparkler, not every story from Kirkwall is about me. Some are about a certain mage and a reckless rogue."

Dorian laughed, "Ah, but that's a tale for another day." He took another drink, the weight of the moment slightly lifting. "For now, I'm more interested in the present."

The tension in the air was palpable. Varric seemed unsure of whether to stay – for inspiration's sake, of course – or to leave. There was a brief stolen glance between the dwarf and Dorian, one that said nothing really and yet everything all at once.

Sensing he might be the third wheel, Varric finally decided to bow out. "To the present… oh, would you look at that, my mug's empty. Terrible thing, empty mugs. And you know, I think I hear Bianca calling. Enjoy your drink," he winked at Dorian as he made his exit.

"What? Varric, we can always get you another…" The Inquisitor began, half rising, but Varric just raised his hands, smirked, and turned to leave.

"Great, now you scared away my company for tonight, Pavus," Liam groaned playfully.

He had taken to calling Dorian by his last name, as he did for most others as well in an attempt to mock noble traditions. There was something very charming about his rebellious nature, since he managed to walk the fine line between being interesting while still being respectful and dignified. Liam ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and then smiled.

"Seems I have to get another drink then. One ale for two? The Inquisition isn't that poor. Unless of course you scared Varric away to now leave me as well, ruining my attempt to get drunk in decent company entirely?"

Dorian leaned in, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, if I truly wished to leave, you'd be left bemoaning my absence rather than nursing a drink. But scaring away your dwarf, why blame that on me? It takes more than one mage, however handsome and well-dressed, to scare away the famous Varric Tethras, I would imagine. Though you won't hear me complain… Let's just say I like my company refined."

"Me, refined? You are clearly drunk already, while I still feel far too sober. That, my friend, is considered cheating in some more civilized areas of Thedas," Liam said, nudging Dorian with his shoulder.

That playful accusation brought out Dorian's own teasing side even more. He fluttered his fingers dismissively. "You, Trevelyan, with your regal yet rebellious air, should be celebrating. After all, you've got the pleasure of the great Dorian Pavus' company all to yourself." He winked, relishing in his own dramatic flair. "But if it's another drink you desire," Dorian continued, raising his hand to signal Flissa, "let it not be said that I don't indulge the Inquisitor's every whim." With a dramatic flourish, he ordered, "Two of your finest concoctions for the two finest gentlemen in Skyhold, if you please!"

Leaning closer to Liam, with his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, Dorian said, "Besides, getting drunk in decent company is overrated. It's far more exhilarating with indecent company, wouldn't you say?"

He gave Liam a lingering look, filled with flirtatious intent, testing the waters and enjoying every moment of it. Liam laughed heartily at that, and Dorian found the dimples forming on his cheeks almost irresistible.

"Fine, fine, you got me there. But let's not get too indecent, alright? I don't want to have the Seeker groan at me for the rest of my days. Urgh," Liam said, imitating Cassandra's trademark sound of annoyance. "So, how are you fitting in? Already regretting that hasty decision of leaving the sinful pleasures of Minrathous behind to join our joyous little Inquisition?"

Liam's tone was light-hearted, for he had no idea what horrible situation Dorian was running away from, and Dorian would rather it stayed that way. Dorian chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand, the amber liquid catching the soft glow of the tavern's lights.

"Oh, Minrathous," he began with a wistful sigh, the edges of his lips curling into a smirk, "Where sin and sophistication dance in a delicate tango." He took a momentary sip, allowing the warm burn of the drink to coat his throat before continuing, "But truth be told, I've always had a desire for the... unexpected. And what's more unexpected than running off with a ragtag group led by a charismatic rogue with alarming blue eyes?"

"Alarming, huh?" Liam looked at Dorian without shame.

Maker, those eyes…

Dorian's gaze met Liam's, holding it a moment longer than necessary. Then, finally breaking the intense stare, Dorian's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Yet, as for the 'sinful pleasures' you mentioned, I've always believed in quality over quantity. One might find that even the grand halls of Skyhold have their own... tantalizing temptations."

"Glad to know you'll make do with what we have," Liam replied, smirking as his eyes wandered off to watch the patrons and Maryden the bard interact. Then a serving boy came with their new mugs, and Liam thanked him with a wide, warm smile. Only then did he turn back to Dorian. "Skyhold treats you well, then? I'd hate to hear you regret hastily joining this charming band of renegade Chantry boys and girls."

Dorian leaned back comfortably, feigning innocence. "But, darling Inquisitor, I'm deeply wounded by your insinuations. Joining this 'band of renegade Chantry boys and girls' was not hasty in the slightest. Every calculated decision in my life is made with style, panache, and an unyielding thirst for adventure." With an exaggerated sigh, he added, "However, it's rather unfortunate that said decision hasn't been accompanied by a personal tour of Skyhold yet. You wouldn't, perchance, be offering?"

Liam laughed again. "Would that I could. But I had to fight teeth and claws for that free evening tonight. You'd think an Inquisitor's life as all high and mighty, but somehow they all want a piece of me, and you'd be surprised how adamant our sweet Lady Montilyet can be if she wants something," he said chuckling, taking a deep sip of his drink.

His words made sense to Dorian in more ways than just one - Dorian was almost sure that the Ambassador had a thing for Liam, and could he fault her? Liam was the perfectly charming sunny boy with a roguish touch, almost too good to be true.

"But don't think I didn't notice you avoiding an actual answer behind all those flowery words and shameless compliments," Liam went on, and leant forward on the table, lowering his voice. There was that shift from playful demeanour to confident leadership that Dorian had begun to notice appearing more often. "Are they treating you well?"

'They' meant everyone - people here in the South were wary of the 'evil Tevinter magisters', and Liam was evidently worried for Dorian's well-being. The mage's flamboyant veneer momentarily faded, replaced by a look of genuine contemplation. He paused, admiring Liam's evident concern. With a soft sigh, he brushed through his moustache, his gaze distant.

"You know, I've always had a flair for blending the dramatic with the genuine. A masterful trait, if I say so myself. But, beneath all the embellishments," Dorian's eyes met Liam's with a frankness that was rarely seen, "I appreciate the concern."

Liam nodded. "Then do tell?" He urged Dorian, raising his mug to show he was all ears and no talking.

"It's been... interesting. While some might view my Tevinter origins with a hefty side of suspicion, most are at least civil. And others," he flashed a mischievous grin, "well, they're just curious about the exotic allure of a genuine Minrathous mage."

"Exotic allure?" Liam chuckled, putting down his cup. "Is that what you truly think they care about?"

Dorian hesitated for a moment, but found only genuine curiosity in those damned blue eyes. Taking a more relaxed posture, he replied, "In truth, there have been moments of unease, sideways glances, and muttered words. But I've faced far worse back home. It's the nature of being fascinating, of challenging norms. And isn't that what the Inquisition is all about? And besides, if things get too rough, I have you to come to my rescue, no? The gallant Inquisitor, always ready to defend his most charming – and let's not forget, dashing – Tevinter ally." Leaning back, Dorian raised his mug, his earlier bravado returning in full force. "To challenging norms and ruffling feathers, may we do it with unparalleled style and finesse."

Liam raised his tankard too, but smirked quite mischievously. "Truth be told - and I hate to be the one to break it to you - since Krem doesn't count, you're also my only Tevinter ally," Liam teased him before drinking far too hastily. He gasped for air. "Lovely stuff. But since it's this week's only chance at getting drunk, I think I need more. Preferably something that burns. What about you?"

He rose from his seat, passing Dorian by closely, mostly to move between the tightly packed tables, but Dorian loved to imagine it was for his sake.

"You do schnapps, Pavus?" Liam asked, tilting his head playfully.

Dorian smirked, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Ah, the Inquisitor suggesting we delve into the more... potent delicacies? How delightfully scandalous!" He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I must admit, I'm impressed. For a moment, I had you pegged as a 'sipping wine in a sunlit courtyard' sort of nobleman."

"Me? Sipping wine?" Liam laughed, gesturing to the bar. "Do we even have anything else but beer, ale and schnapps at the moment?"

"We? Is the Inquisitor also responsible for the tavern's acquisitions? My, my, be careful, my dear man, you'll work yourself to death," Dorian teased him. Pushing back his chair and standing up gracefully, he added, "But as for schnapps, Ser Trevelyan, while it isn't my customary poison, I've been known to indulge from time to time. Especially when in such... stimulating company."

Liam took that for a satisfactory answer, apparently, as he nodded and began to navigate between the tables in the tightly packed tavern.

Walking towards the bar behind Liam, Dorian continued, "In Tevinter, we have our own versions of firewater. Potions brewed to make the heart race and the mind wander. But for now," he shot Liam a playful glance, "I'll happily settle for whatever Skyhold's cellar has to offer. Still, a word of advice from someone who's danced with the devil's drink once or twice — moderation is key, especially if you wish to retain that boyish charm of yours come morning."

"Moderation?" Liam frowned, smirked, and then ordered pear schnapps, leaning over the bar to almost whisper his wishes into Flissa's ear.

Dorian could not help but admire the Inquisitor's lithe form and graceful movements... and the way his behind looked in those trousers. He was almost startled when Liam turned around, facing him to look the Inquisitor in the face again.

"You think I'm boyish?" Liam asked, his tone somewhat challenging. "Damn. I was hoping to come off as a little more mature now. Is it the stubble? Do I need a full Blackwall beard?" Liam ran a hand over his chin.

Dorian leaned against the bar, his posture relaxed yet poised, and he tilted his head slightly, feigning deep thought. "Well, the stubble certainly adds a touch of rugged charm," he mused, drawing out the words deliberately. "But boyish? It's not a criticism, my dear Inquisitor. It's that undeniable energy you exude, a certain... vivacity, if you will. It's infectious, really." He paused for effect, letting his gaze drift over Liam's features. "And truth be told," Dorian continued, a playful smile dancing on his lips, "maturity is overrated. Give me passion, fire, and a bit of rebellious spark any day. That's where the real allure lies."

"How good of you to teach me the finer aspects of this," Liam replied, his voice suddenly a little lower, but still every bit amused.

Stepping a tad closer, Dorian's voice softened, infused with a touch of flirtation, "Besides, if it's maturity you're looking for, I've got enough of it for the both of us. What do you say, Inquisitor? Shall we balance each other out?"

"Your schnapps, Inquisitor," the sturdy barkeeper interrupted, though the Inquisitor didn't seem to listen.

Liam looked at his mage companion puzzled, and for a moment Dorian thought he had overstepped a boundary, but then Liam chuckled and ran his hand over his face to stifle a louder laughter. "You? Mature?" He shook his head, wiping a pretended tear of laughter from his eye before turning to Flissa. He took the two schnapps cups and thanked her in a warm raspy voice that sent shivers down Dorian's spine.

Dorian's laughter, rich and melodic, joined Liam's. "Ah, you've caught me, Inquisitor! But can you blame a man for trying?"

"Not in the slightest. To never growing up," Liam replied, offering Dorian a schnapps.

The mage accepted the tiny cup with a graceful nod, twirling it between his fingers with practiced ease. "To never growing up, indeed," he toasted, raising his cup higher. "And to nights where the company is as intoxicating as the drink." He paused, his gaze intent on Liam, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a teasing smile. "Or perhaps even more so."

Liam chuckled. "To that, then," he agreed, and downed the schnapps in one go.

With a dramatic gesture, Dorian brought the schnapps to his lips, sipping the potent drink. The burn was immediate and invigorating, and he let out a contented sigh. "Ah, how oddly rustic! I must say, for a southern establishment, Skyhold's tavern truly has quite the selection."

"Come now, not everything's bad down here. Flissa, for example, is an absolute treasure," Liam countered, shooting the bartender an appreciative glance.

"That she is," Dorian agreed hastily. Setting his cup down with a slight thud, he continued, "But, tell me, Inquisitor, what other treasures do you have hidden away in this fortress of yours? I'm always in the mood for a good... discovery." His voice took on a sultry undertone, his eyes gleaming with mischief and anticipation.

"I was rather hoping you'd tell me," Liam retorted. "I've heard you're spending so much time in the castle's library that people think you're sleeping there." He chuckled, but then furrowed his brows. "You are not, are you? Sleeping in the library, I mean. They did give you a real room, didn't they?"

Maker, his concern was so endearing, Dorian knew he had to do something theatrical to get over it. He looked mock-offended, placing a hand over his heart in a melodramatic gesture.

"Oh, how you wound me, Inquisitor! Sleeping in the library? Do I look like the sort to curl up among dusty tomes? Well, perhaps I do have a penchant for knowledge, but I assure you, I have not resorted to using scrolls as pillows... yet."

Liam raised an eyebrow, smirking curiously. "Yet?"

"Fear not, the esteemed members of the Inquisition have, indeed, seen it fit to provide me with my own quarters. Quite lavish ones at that, I must say. Not exactly up to the standards of Tevinter luxury, but charming nonetheless," Dorian assured the Inquisitor. He took another sip of his drink, allowing the warmth to spread through him before continuing, "Although, I must admit, the library here is particularly... enticing. So many ancient texts, long-lost secrets, forbidden spells. It's a veritable treasure trove for someone of my, let's say, academic inclinations."

"Is that code for something not so innocent, or does it merely sound like that?" The Inquisitor asked with a smirk.

"Oh, in this case, it was meant absolutely literally," Dorian assured him. Leaning in closer, the mage whispered conspiratorially, "Between you and me, I may have discovered something quite intriguing the other night. Something that could be of interest to you, Inquisitor." He winked, enjoying the game of cat and mouse they were playing. "But perhaps that's a tale for another time, when we're not amidst such... raucous surroundings."

"Consider me intrigued," Liam said, his tone equally conspiratorial, not shying away from the closeness Dorian had created. "Just try and use your magic to get me some time off and I'm all ears. Charming Lady Montilyet might do the trick, unless of course you're up for the daunting task of swaying the Seeker? Or is that nut too tough for your Tevinter charms to crack?" Liam smirked at that question, playing with his empty schnapps cup, and leant over the bar again to order a second round.

Dorian let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly enjoying the banter. "Ah, the Seeker! Now there's a challenge," he began, swirling the remnants of his schnapps in his cup. "But you underestimate me, Inquisitor. I've faced ancient demons, sinister plots, and the intricate politics of Tevinter. I assure you, Lady Cassandra's steely gaze is... well, admittedly intimidating, but not insurmountable." He gave Liam a sly wink. "But then again, why not make things interesting? Let's place a wager, shall we? If I can charm our dear Seeker into granting you a free evening, what, my dear Inquisitor, would you offer in return?"

"Well, what would you be interested in? I'd do quite a few things for another night off," Liam replied and winked playfully.

"Oh, don't tempt me to get creative." Dorian leaned in, their faces just inches apart, his voice a sultry purr. "A private tour of Skyhold? A midnight stroll on the battlements? Or perhaps something more... tantalizing?"

A moment's pause. Then Dorian withdrew.

Always leave them wanting, wondering…

He took the newly delivered schnapps from the bar and raised it in toast. "To challenges, games, and the promise of delightful rewards."

"To challenges, yes," Liam agreed, drinking the second schnapps a little more slowly. "But I'm afraid I have to pass on that wager. I never gamble. It's a principle."

"A principle?" Dorian repeated incredulously.

The Inquisitor winced playfully. "Yes, I know, shame on me for having those. I bet you and your perfectly bred Tevinter friends never have to make do with nasty 'principles', but hey, I'm just an Ostwick boy, born and raised by decent people who think an 'orgy' is a family gathering where more than one person throws up because they drank too much."

Liam chuckled softly at his own words. Dorian, too, let out an amused huff, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Ah, my mistake, Inquisitor. Here I was, thinking you were adventurous, willing to risk it all for the thrill of the unknown. But it turns out you're just another noble, playing it safe," he teased with a dramatic sigh. He leaned back against the bar, adopting a mock-woeful expression. "It's quite tragic, really. I'd pictured the great Liam Trevelyan as someone who'd gallop into the unknown, chasing danger with each heartbeat. But alas, a simple wager proves too much. Oh, the crushing disappointment."

The Inquisitor rolled his eyes at that. Dorian took a dramatic pause, letting the moment hang before his lips curled into a playful smile.

"As for orgies," he continued with a sly smirk, "let's just say that in Tevinter, we have a slightly different interpretation of 'family gatherings'. But fear not, I won't corrupt your innocent, Ostwick sensibilities... unless, of course, you ask nicely."

Liam chuckled again.

Maker, the beauty of that handsome face when it shone with genuine delight...

"I'll keep that in mind, Pavus. Thank you for offering, in any case. And thanks for the company. Well, technically keeping my company was your duty, seeing that you're a member of the Inquisition now and the whole damn thing is mine, but you get the point." A slight lilt in his voice betrayed that he had drunk enough now to be tipsy, which also made his cheeks blush a little.

Maker's breath, look at something else…

Dorian's lips curled into a knowing smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight of a slightly tipsy Inquisitor. "Ah, technicalities," he drawled. "But, of course, my allegiance to the Inquisition is unwavering. It's merely a happy accident that its illustrious leader is so... entertaining." Once more, he paused for effect, his gaze locking onto Liam's, the intensity amplified by the alcohol in both their systems. "It's been an enlightening evening, Inquisitor. If this is what duty requires, then I find myself rather eager to fulfil my obligations. A bit more enthusiastically than anticipated, I must admit."

"Enthusiasm is much appreciated," Liam assured him, pushing himself away from the bar slowly.

Realizing that the wonderful moment between them would soon end, Dorian gave a theatrical sigh, pushing a strand of his hair back with a flourish. "But remember, dear Inquisitor, while you may have the entirety of the Inquisition, you don't have all of me... yet. Always leave them wanting more, as they say in the Imperium." He raised his now-empty cup in a cheeky toast. "To accidental duties and delightful diversions."

"Thank you for the tip. I always like to learn from the best," Liam replied, indicating that he took the entire flirting between them as some sort of sparring, as a preparation for 'real' situations... with women. Of course. He was a Chantry boy after all. "I had better leave now. A friend of mine told me that "moderation is key", and I'd hate to disappoint said friend by throwing up quite unceremoniously before my morning war room meeting," Liam jested, quoting Dorian's earlier comment.

Dorian chuckled, tapping a finger against his chin, "Ah, yes, moderation. A concept I'm... vaguely aware of." He slowly stepped away from the bar, the slight sway in his stance revealing he was just as affected by the drinks as Liam was. "Remember, Inquisitor, that while moderation is key, there's also something to be said for experiencing the full range of life's pleasures." He tilted his head, looking at Liam from beneath his dark lashes, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "But, since I'm now an invaluable source of Tevinter wisdom for you, I'll give you another piece of advice - throwing up in front of your council, while it makes a statement, is probably not the one you're aiming for."

"No, probably not. Most likely not," Liam agreed, laughing.

He leaned forward, pulling Dorian into a short hug. The mage was surprised, finding it hard to ease into that embrace, standing so close that Liam could probably feel the warmth of his breath.

"Always a pleasure, Pavus." The Inquisitor indicated a courteous bow.

Dorian gathered his wits quickly. "Fare thee well, O' noble Inquisitor. May your dreams be as scandalous as a Tevinter orgy," Dorian replied, bowing like a mummer would, while all of his soul screamed at him to just leave the tavern and follow behind.

Why not?

The door closed. Liam was gone. All that remained was the memory of his smile. That damned smile.