Chapter 5 - Would You Rather (The Tavern Night Part 2)
Drinking in rustic environments was not a particular habit of Dorian's, yet tonight was special – not just because he was in a private nook, waiting for the Inquisitor to return with more wine, but also because of the strangely liberating honesty in their conversation so far. Dorian wasn't exactly sure where this was going, but it was certainly the most exhilarating night in a very long time. His mind raced as he tried to prepare for giving the Inquisitor a few compliments, thinly veiled behind cheeky remarks and a sugar-coating dose of sarcasm.
When finally Liam's tousled brown hair appeared from downstairs again, Dorian could see the Inquisitor was not only returning with wine, but also a bowl filled with cheese, dried peppers, and spicy sausage bits. The addition of food was a surprise, one that made Dorian both appreciative and a tad more nervous. The casual intimacy of sharing a meal, especially in such a setting, wasn't lost on him.
Lifting an eyebrow in exaggerated surprise, Dorian quipped, "Ah, the full Skyhold hospitality experience! I wasn't aware I was such an esteemed guest tonight. Should I have worn a more formal robe?" He let his eyes travel down his own attire, winking.
"No, you look fetching enough for the two of us," Liam assured him.
Leaning back in his chair, Dorian's eyes danced with mischief. "Thank you, thank you. But as for assessing you, Inquisitor... Are you sure you're ready? It might require an entire evening. And perhaps even yet another jug of wine. Or three." He flashed a playful grin, twirling a strand of his moustache between his fingers. "I promise to be at least half as ruthless as you were."
Liam put down the jug and the bowl, making sure they were accessible for Dorian in a gesture that was unobtrusive, but genuinely caring. Then he slouched onto a chair, tilting it backwards against the wall, and locked his arms behind his head. "Hit me, Pavus," he bluntly ordered Dorian to begin his 'assessment'.
Dorian smirked, eyes gleaming with both amusement and a touch of apprehension. He allowed himself a deliberate moment to let his gaze roam over Liam in a similar manner the Inquisitor had done to him earlier. A bit of playful revenge, as it were.
"Well," Dorian began, reaching out to grab a piece of cheese and pop it into his mouth, clearly intending to draw out the suspense. "You have this... 'hero of the realm' look about you, which is frankly, rather cliché. I mean, tousled hair, piercing blue eyes, muscles where one would want them... Really, Inquisitor, it's like you walked out of one of Varric's novels."
"I do aim to please," Liam said dryly, his arms still behind his head.
Dorian took a sip of wine, swirling it in the cup before continuing. "Your sense of fashion..." Dorian sighed dramatically, "It's not terrible. Functional, I guess. But those boots? I stand by my criticism."
Liam only rolled his eyes at that. "Is it that bad, really?"
Letting his tone grow more sincere, Dorian admitted, "Overall, no. You have an undeniable presence, my friend. When you walk into a room, people notice. It's not just the title, or the stories. It's... you. There's an intensity, a magnetism about you." Dorian's voice softened, his eyes conveying an earnestness that betrayed the depth of his true feelings. "And while you wear the weight of the world on your shoulders, you still find moments to laugh, to challenge, to tease. It's infuriating and captivating all at once." Finishing off with a flourish, he smirked and added, "And, dare I say, you might even be a bit charming when you put your mind to it. But don't let it go to your head. We wouldn't want you to become... what's the word? Oh yes, insufferable."
"That was... very tame," Liam said in a teasing tone, unclasping his hands to grab the wine jug. "I expected more barbs from the famously sharp-witted Dorian Pavus, but hey, 'take what you can get and give nothing back', eh?" He refilled Dorian's cup without even commenting on it before turning to his own. "But on one point, I beg to differ," the Inquisitor said, raising an eyebrow and sipping on his wine, deliberately leaving Dorian curious.
The Tevinter mage's eyes narrowed in playful suspicion as he met Liam's gaze. "Oh? And which point might that be, Inquisitor?" He took a measured sip of the refilled wine, allowing his eyes to remain locked onto Liam's, not breaking the gaze even for a moment. There was a pause, the air heavy with anticipation, and Dorian felt that nervous flutter in his stomach once again. "Come now, Liam," he said, injecting a touch of his signature wit and feigned impatience into his voice, "don't keep a man in suspense. It's unbecoming, and frankly, rather cruel."
"You say cruel... I say clever," Liam retorted in a voice that was suddenly much lower than his usual one. He leant forward, coming dangerously closer to Dorian with each spoken word. "You see, Pavus, the point I'd beg to differ on is your assessment of my charm," he said, each word pronounced carefully, his tone and proximity making Dorian's heart race. Liam's blue eyes almost bore into Dorian by now. "I'm not just 'a bit charming' when I put my mind to it," Liam insisted, letting his gaze linger on Dorian's lips far too long to still be proper. "I'm... dangerously... charming... if need be," he added, his voice a velvety purr, his lips twitching into a smirk that was something between cruel and playful.
He studied Dorian's expression for a moment before withdrawing so abruptly that it sucked the air out of Dorian's lungs.
"Not that you'd have to agree, though. If I'm only 'a bit charming' to you, so be it," Liam added casually, picking up a piece of cheese as if he had not just been the most desirable thing Dorian had seen in ages.
The Mage had to take a moment to gather himself, the heat of Liam's proximity still playing tricks on his senses. His mind raced to form a reply, battling with the torrent of feelings that threatened to spill over. Leaning back gracefully in his chair, he took a deep breath and flashed one of his signature grins, though there was a touch of vulnerability behind it this time.
"Well," Dorian started, playfully tapping a finger against his wine cup as he regarded Inquisitor. "I'm pleased to see the Inquisitor knows how to challenge an assessment. Though, I must say," he let out a dramatic sigh, feigning exasperation, "it's rather unfair of you to play your cards like that. Most of us mortals have only so much resistance. But alright, I concede. 'A bit charming' was perhaps an understatement. However, 'dangerously charming'?" Dorian raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Now that's a title one would have to earn repeatedly, wouldn't you agree?"
Taking a daring sip from his wine, he let the liquid courage bolster him. "The challenge, my dear Inquisitor, is not just in proving it once, but in maintaining such... allure over time. Do you think you're up to the task?" Dorian asked with a glint in his eye, daring Liam to rise to the challenge.
The Inquisitor hesitated for longer than Dorian would have expected. "Probably not," he replied, much to Dorian's surprise, sounding rather reflective. "Which is why I stopped flirting with most people here. They'd be disappointed eventually, when they figure out the mighty Inquisitor is also just flesh and bones." He shrugged, taking another deep sip of wine.
Dorian set down his wine cup with deliberate slowness, the previous teasing atmosphere replaced by one of palpable tension and subtle intimacy. He shifted slightly in his chair, tilting his head as he regarded Liam with an intensity that mirrored the Inquisitor's earlier demeanour.
"You underestimate yourself," Dorian began, choosing his words carefully. "The weight of the world is on your shoulders, and yet you've managed to maintain such... vivacity. I would argue it's your very humanity, that balance of might and vulnerability, that makes you compelling. Not the title or the mark on your hand."
He paused, taking a moment to form his next words, his voice softening.
"But about the flirting," Dorian continued, his gaze unwavering, "I've always considered our exchanges more than just casual banter. There's an... electricity between us, wouldn't you say? A dance of words, if you will. But perhaps I'm merely projecting my own ideals onto this, imagining sparks where there's only the dull glow of camaraderie." Dorian offered a faint smile, tinged with genuine curiosity.
"Dull glow of camaraderie?" Liam repeated slowly. "Is this how you see our friendship?" He frowned, sounding genuinely hurt, but cautious to act on something that might just be a misunderstanding.
Dorian's eyes widened momentarily, realizing he might have miscalculated in his phrasing. He leaned forward, urgency and genuine concern in his voice, his trademark wit momentarily side-lined by the importance of addressing Liam's hurt.
"No, no," he began hurriedly, the subtle nuances of their conversation suddenly much more critical. "I fear I may have misspoken. Our friendship is far from dull. But in trying to capture the essence of our exchanges, I may have chosen... unfortunate phrasing." He ran a hand over his moustache, a nervous gesture uncharacteristic of the typically self-assured mage. "Inquisitor… Liam. What we have is unique. Our camaraderie is like a brilliant flame, not just some faint glimmer. It's what I treasure, even amidst our witty back-and-forths. I simply meant that if our exchanges were only that, with no depth or genuine connection beneath, then it would be dull by comparison. And I would never want to reduce our relationship to mere banter." Pausing to gauge Liam's reaction, Dorian added with a sincere tone, "I cherish our friendship, Inquisitor. And I deeply regret if my words suggested otherwise."
Liam exhaled audibly. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, still sounding rather serious. "I'd be thoroughly disappointed if you only jested with me, supported me, fought dragons with me just to see me naked." The words were meant to sound light-hearted, but there seemed to be an underlying bitterness, as if he felt hurt to be objectified like that – which probably happened more often than not, given his good looks and sunny charisma.
"Oh, come now, my friend. While I won't deny that the idea has its own brand of... charm," Dorian began, smirking momentarily, "my intentions are a little more nuanced than that." He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath as he composed his thoughts. "Firstly, I've never been one to risk my life merely for the allure of a chiselled physique or striking blue eyes," he quipped, offering a playful wink. "And I've certainly not cast spells and faced down ferocious beasts to earn a place in anyone's bedchambers."
"Or so you say," Liam replied, staring into his cup. There was something odd about his demeanour all of a sudden.
Dorian's expression grew sincere. "What we share transcends superficial attraction. The jests, the banter – they're just a facet of a deeper bond. We've laughed, argued, and fought side by side. Those experiences... they forge a connection that's far more meaningful than mere carnal intrigue." Dorian paused, offering a softer, almost shy smile. "I value our friendship, Liam. Truly. My admiration for you isn't limited to the physical. I appreciate the strength of your character, your leadership, and, yes, even the determination with which you stick to those maddening boots of yours. I'd never want our bond to be reduced to or overshadowed by fleeting fantasies. If I've given you any reason to think otherwise, then I deeply apologize."
Liam finally smiled again. "You must truly mean it if you forgive me the boots," he mused, chuckling softly. "Fine. We're on the same page, and I'll forget you ever called me dull." He sighed briefly before taking his cup back in hand and emptying it in what seemed to be a nervous gesture.
Dorian gave an exaggerated, dramatic sigh of relief. "I was terribly concerned those boots would be the end of our illustrious friendship," he quipped, the corners of his lips curling into a sly smile. "But in all seriousness, I would hate for any miscommunication to come between us. The 'dull' remark was merely a jest, though admittedly a poorly chosen one. I can assure you, there's nothing dull about the Inquisitor who's managed to keep all of Thedas from crumbling into chaos. Well, perhaps save for the aforementioned boots."
The Inquisitor groaned ever so slightly. "You've made that point amply clear."
"Have I truly?" Leaning in slightly, Dorian's voice took on a hushed, conspiratorial tone, "I might even admit, just between the two of us, that those boots have grown on me. The way you clean the demon goo of them has a very rustic charm to it. But, let's not let that knowledge become public, shall we? My reputation would be utterly tarnished." He finished with a wink, hoping to lighten the mood further.
"I would never betray a friend's trust," Liam insisted firmly, leaning forward to check Dorian's cup, and then refilling it again. Ever considerate, even despite his rebellious charms. A gentleman in rebel's clothing, Dorian noticed. Then Liam picked up a piece of sausage and looked at it for a while. "Do you think I should do it?" He asked, sounding pensive. "Bull's offer, I mean."
Dorian paused, his fingers idly tracing his wine cup's edge. His face was a portrait of contemplation, the playful demeanour momentarily dissipating. "Ah, Bull's offer," he said, a hint of mischief sneaking back into his voice, "Well, there's no denying that The Iron Bull is... direct in his approach. But what I truly think, dear Inquisitor, is that this is not about Bull's approach or his, ahem, impressive horns." Dorian's eyebrows wiggled teasingly. "It's about what you want. And perhaps, more critically, what you're willing to explore."
Liam didn't reply, clearly waiting to hear all that Dorian had to offer. Shifting his weight slightly, the mage leaned closer, his voice dropping a notch, the light playfulness giving way to genuine concern.
"Bull is many things: powerful, direct, and very, very experienced. If you're curious and think you can handle that raw Qunari... charm," he chuckled, "then, by all means, go ahead. However, remember that entanglements, especially those of the intimate kind, can become complicated in our line of work." Clearing his throat, he added, "And not to make this about me, but consider how it might affect those around you. Our dynamic, for instance. Not that I'm saying I'd be jealous or anything, but..."
"But what?" Liam tilted his head. "Would you judge me for bedding a Qunari? I get it, your people and his are at war almost constantly, but I had rather thought you of all people would never judge me for such a thing."
Dorian's face contorted into a mixture of regret and alarm, realizing that he had accidentally ventured into murky waters. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping at the wine-filled goblet before him. "Oh, no, no, Inquisitor. You've misread me, and that's my fault entirely." He swallowed, his charismatic facade momentarily faltering.
"You're correct," he began anew, voice steady. "I'd be the last person to judge anyone based on their... bedtime companions, Qunari or otherwise. My homeland's quarrels with the Qunari aren't your battles, and I'd never pin those prejudices upon you." His eyes, earnest and sincere, sought Liam's. "What I meant was... Bull's a force of nature. And sometimes, people get swept up in forces they don't quite comprehend. I just wanted to make sure you're making the choice for yourself, and not because of some fleeting curiosity or the allure of the unknown." Pausing, Dorian took a deep breath, his voice softer, vulnerable even, and added, "And when I mentioned our dynamic, I simply meant... well, entanglements, as I said earlier, can become complex. But it's not about judgment, Inquisitor. It's about care. For you, for me, for all of us. And perhaps, selfishly, I'd hate for our banter to become a casualty of any... unforeseen complications."
Liam nodded slowly, but still frowned. "So you're saying I should not sleep with anyone because you're afraid our 'banter' would stop?" He said, deliberately rephrasing it in a way that made Dorian seem quite selfish. "Wow. With friends as supportive as you, I'll probably die an old spinster," he added an even bigger barb to the teasing.
Dorian's eyebrows arched dramatically as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "My, my, Inquisitor. I hadn't taken you for such a drama queen." His tone was light, but his eyes flashed with mischief. "Perhaps it's rubbing off from our shared conversations?"
"Perhaps. Or perhaps you're just very egocentric?" Liam shrugged.
Clearing his throat, Dorian continued, "I'm merely saying that sometimes intimate relationships can alter friendships. It's not about limiting your exploits. By all means, paint the town whatever shade of red you desire. But when two members of our little troupe," he motioned around vaguely, encompassing the idea of their group, "decide to mingle in... intimate ways, there's always the potential for shifts in the group's dynamic. However," he added, tapping his finger on his wine glass for emphasis, "if you feel the need to live a life of celibacy due to my worries, I'm sure we can find you an appropriate title. The Chaste Inquisitor, perhaps?"
"I like you, Pavus, but not enough to be celibate for the rest of my days," Liam said laughing, taking another sip of his wine. "No, no. Don't worry, I won't risk or compromise anything. I was merely entertaining the notion because I believe Bull knows what he's doing, plus he's about the only one where romantic feelings would never play a role, and that's sort of refreshing, don't you think? Simple. Easy. After Sister Nightingale almost turning me into pastry for 'playing with the emotions' of Lady Montilyet, I could use easy." He sighed, slouching a little on his seat, apparently genuinely lost and lonely.
Dorian paused, his fingers playing with his wine cup. He looked intently at Liam, seeing beyond the title of the Inquisitor and into the man himself. It was rare for Dorian to see Liam so candid, so vulnerable. It made the mage's heart ache in ways he hadn't expected.
"Ah, the Inquisitor's burdens," Dorian began softly, with a knowing look. "Romancing ambassadors, fending off matchmakers, dodging political entanglements, and all the while trying to save the world. Such a challenging life you lead."
He then sighed, pushing the jesting aside for a moment. "Liam, behind all this banter, all this playful back-and-forth we share, know this: You have my support, and my friendship, whatever you decide. Bull may be uncomplicated, but remember, it's not the moments of simplicity you cherish when you lay down at night. It's the complexities, the trials, the laughter, the pain." He paused, giving the Inquisitor a meaningful look. "The connections. Those are what make life memorable. Don't ever sell yourself short or think you need to settle for 'easy' to find happiness."
"If you say so." Liam's voice was quiet, almost defeated.
"But, of course, if easy is what you crave for now, who am I to judge? Just... promise me one thing? Whatever you decide, don't lose yourself in the process. We've all come to appreciate the 'dangerously charming' Inquisitor," Dorian smirked, finishing with a wink.
"Promised," Liam agreed eagerly. "And don't you, even for a moment, dare to believe I'd ever stop our banter. It's the highlight of most of my days. That and listening to the growl in Commander Rutherford's voice when he's chastising new recruits. Maker, don't you also just love the sound?" He moaned himself, a sound of delightful enjoyment, and smirked in a handsome way.
A smile appeared on Dorian's lips, playful and amused. "Ah, the Commander's voice. It is quite captivating, isn't it? Like the rich tones of a cello, but with a hint of a whip's crack for those who dare misbehave." He arched an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I must admit, there have been times I've contemplated committing myself to a minor mischief, just to earn a personal reprimanding. Can you imagine? That deep timbre, all focused on you, reciting every little wrongdoing. It'd be a symphony of scolding."
Liam laughed at that, his sombre expression finally turning into one of genuine mirth. "Oh, stop giving me ideas!"
"Too late." Dorian took a moment to let the mental imagery sink in before continuing. "But I mustn't get greedy. Between our banter and that voice, it's a wonder I ever get any sleep here." With a sly smile, he added, "And yet, despite all these enticing distractions, you, Inquisitor, remain the crown jewel of temptation in this establishment."
"Why, thank you," Liam replied in feigned gratitude, smirking. There was a sweet lilt in his tone that betrayed the alcohol was beginning to take effect. "I'm glad to know I'd be higher on your list than our illustrious Commander. Going up against that voice, those shoulders, and that damn scar on his lips? That's tough competition."
Dorian chuckled, his smirk softening into a genuine, amused grin. "Oh, come now, Inquisitor. As delectable as Commander Cullen is with that whole brooding warrior look, there's just something unique about a man who can not only hold his own in battle but also engage in witty repartees without missing a beat." He leaned slightly closer, eyes twinkling. "You can do that, and you have this uncanny ability to make even the most mundane conversations feel like a thrilling game of wits and challenges."
"Now you're just flattering me," Liam objected with a smirk, sipping on his wine.
"On the contrary. I am merely stating facts." After taking a moment to enjoy his wine as well, Dorian looked up again, feigning thoughtfulness. "And let's not forget, you have your own set of features that give the Commander a run for his money. Those piercing blue eyes, for instance, or the way you command a room with just your presence. No, Inquisitor, when it comes to the art of attraction, it's not just about the physical allure. It's the full package. And you, dear friend, are quite the package."
"Yes, I suppose I am," Liam agreed, chuckling. But when he lowered his gaze, looking into his wine cup, he added, "Doesn't mean you can always get what you want." His tone sounded unusually brooding for a moment, almost melancholic. Then he pouted, downed his cup, and moved to refill it once more, also checking to see if Dorian still had enough.
Dorian felt a tug of concern in his chest. Setting his own cup down, he leaned forward, his usual air of teasing nonchalance momentarily replaced by sincere empathy. "Inquisitor," he began, his voice soft, "There are many things in this world that are elusive, yes. But if there's something bothering you, I genuinely wish to know. Our banter, as delightful as it is, has never been the sole basis of our camaraderie. We've been through far too much for that. Think of Redcliffe."
"What of it?" Liam sounded annoyed and evasive.
Dorian paused, gauging Liam's reaction before continuing, "I've seen you carry the weight of terrible knowledge and tackle challenges that would break lesser men. But even the Inquisitor is allowed his moments of weakness. If there's something you'd like to share, know that I am here to listen." He reached out to lightly touch Liam's wrist, his gesture both reassuring and seeking. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, were now filled with genuine concern, offering a safe haven for whatever emotions the Inquisitor might need to unburden.
"No, but thank you," Liam quickly said, avoiding Dorian's gaze. It felt like a wall being erected between them, like a deliberate shutting out. It was well within the Inquisitor's rights, of course, and being hurt by it was selfish. "I'd much rather get a little more drunk and then fall into bed. Alone, of course. No Qunari adventures tonight... but I don't mind a little more banter, if you've still got the wits for it."
Dorian inhaled deeply, the sting of rejection palpable. But he was not one to dwell on such matters openly. With a fluid motion, he reclined in his seat, gracefully lifting his cup to his lips before smirking over the rim. "Ah, yes. We'll leave the Qunari escapades for another, more... adventurous evening," he said with an exaggerated wink.
Setting his cup down again, Dorian sat more upright, a playful sparkle returning to his eyes despite the undertone of hurt. "But you seem to have forgotten, dear Inquisitor, that I am Dorian Pavus. I am never without my wits. Especially when it comes to banter with someone who tries to outrank me in charm," he teased, flashing a confident smile. He paused for dramatic effect, twirling his moustache slightly before continuing, "So, my hopelessly alluring friend, are you sure you're up for the challenge? Or is the wine dulling that sharp mind of yours?"
Liam looked at him from the corner of his eyes, raising his eyebrows. "Try me," he challenged Dorian, his usual mirth slowly returning to his handsome features.
Raising his cup in mock salute, Dorian grinned mischievously. "Very well, let's make it interesting then. A game, if you will. 'Would you rather?'" His tone hinted at the danger of the challenge he proposed. "The rules are simple: One must pose a question of choice, and the other must answer without hesitation. The choices might be delightful, or downright devilish. Refusal to answer or hesitation results in a forfeit," he arched an eyebrow suggestively. "Perhaps another drink or dare, depending on the interrogator's whims." Savouring the momentary anticipation, Dorian continued, "Since I am ever the gracious host and gentleman, I'll allow you the first question. But remember, Inquisitor, this game is known to reveal secrets and desires one might not expect." He winked playfully, swirling the wine in his cup.
Liam searched Dorian's face for a moment. He refilled his own cup and Dorian's, and then nodded. Without any further explanations, he then asked his first question. "If you had to choose, which one would you forgo for the rest of your life - sex or alcohol?" As if to underline his question, he handed Dorian back his refilled cup.
The mage choked on a laugh, clearly not expecting such a direct, albeit classic, question right out of the gate. Holding his wine aloft, he tilted his head contemplatively, his moustache twitching in amusement.
"Why, Inquisitor, straight to the heart of the matter, are we?" Dorian remarked playfully, though the weight of the decision was evident in his eyes. He glanced at the wine, then back to Liam, trying to formulate the best possible answer in his witty manner.
"Well, a life without the rich taste of this marvellous concoction would indeed be a dreary existence," he began, gesturing to the wine, "but on the other hand, forgoing... carnal delights? Now, that's a nightmare I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemies. But, in the spirit of our game and given that a certain Inquisitor is currently making drinking an exceptionally delightful experience, I would – and mind you, it's a close call – say I'd forgo... alcohol." He raised his cup towards Liam, as if toasting to the very thing he'd chosen to give up.
"Interesting," Liam said, nodding slowly while looking into his own cup. "For me, it's the other way around," he said, surprising Dorian genuinely. "Close call, yes, but if I had to choose... well, I intend to live a long life, provided Corypheus doesn't get to me first, and frankly, I've heard the physical act loses its allure over time. But booze? Even an eighty-year-old can enjoy getting drunk. Plus, drinking in public is much more socially acceptable." He chuckled at that. "Now your question, Pavus?"
Dorian laughed at the comparison. "Well, well, my friend, I must admit, your answer surprises me. But it also provides valuable insight," he teased, taking a sip of his drink. He put his wine down on the table and leaned forward, resting his chin on his fingers. "Alright, here we go. Would you rather..." Dorian paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, "...spend one night in a passionate embrace with the person you desire the most in this world, knowing that afterwards you'll never see them again, or spend an entire lifetime by their side, but never once touch them in any intimate way?"
"The latter," Liam replied without hesitation and without explanation.
Dorian blinked, taken aback by the swiftness of Liam's response. He studied the Inquisitor for a moment, searching for any sign of jest or insincerity. Finding none, he couldn't help but indulge his curiosity, despite the rules they'd set.
"Well, that was... unexpected," Dorian admitted, swirling the wine in his cup, the crimson liquid reflecting the candlelight. "You know, even if it's not my turn to ask, I'm tempted to break our little rule. Your answer has me genuinely intrigued. Care to indulge my insatiable curiosity? Or should I forever be left to ponder the depths of the Inquisitor's enigmatic heart?"
Liam shrugged softly. "Well, I'd say it's rather self-explanatory, but fine... I..." He sighed. "I do like sex. But as I said before, attraction fades, just like beauty does. But love? Well..." Liam winced in an apologetic way. "Please don't tell anyone, but I think I may be a romantic at heart." The way he said it was so endearing, yet he genuinely seemed to think that Dorian would chide him for it.
"Oh, my dear Inquisitor," Dorian began, placing his wine down for dramatic effect. "You've bared your soul and unveiled a secret to me, and now you expect I'd be so cruel as to mock you for it?" He gave Liam an exaggerated pout, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Between us, and for the sake of our 'banter,' your secret is safe. And, dare I say, it's actually rather charming. Now, who could have imagined? The mighty Inquisitor, a romantic at heart. The world is full of delightful surprises."
Drawing back, he raised his cup to Liam, offering a toast. "To unexpected revelations and the hope that they lead to fulfilled dreams."
"What about you, though?" Liam asked directly, not reciprocating the toast. "Would you go for the night of perfect passion or the chaste lifetime of companionship?" He let his blue eyes roam Dorian's face, searching for the answer in a way that made Dorian's heart beat faster.
That gave Dorian reason to hesitate, the weight of the Inquisitor's gaze making him all the more aware of the vulnerability inherent in his answer. He took a moment, swirling the wine in his cup, letting the deep red liquid dance and shimmer in the ambient light.
"Ah, the tables have turned, haven't they?" he said, stalling for time, his lips curled in a half-smile. Drawing a deep breath, he met Liam's eyes with a rare, genuine intensity. "I've had nights of passion, some more forgettable than others. But companionship?" He paused, his voice softening, the playfulness now replaced with a quiet honesty. "In a world that has often looked at me with disdain, the idea of someone who truly understands, accepts, and cherishes me for who I am? That's... well, it's a bit of a dream, isn't it?"
He chuckled softly, a hint of melancholy in his voice.
"So, to answer your question, I'd choose the lifetime. But, mind you, it doesn't mean I'd say no to the occasional flirtation to spice things up." Winking playfully, Dorian took another sip from his cup, feeling somewhat exposed but oddly liberated.
Liam simply said "Huh," an expression of genuine surprise, but he didn't elaborate on it. Instead he just raised his eyebrows, swallowed the information, and took another sip of wine before looking back at Dorian. "So, my turn, I guess. Would you rather go back to a certain point in time of your life to make different choices, or keep things as they are, trying to look forward?"
At that question, Dorian took a moment, leaning back into his chair and studying the ceiling as though it held answers. The weight of the past pressed down upon him, with its regrets, mistakes, and memories, but so too did the potential of the future. "Ah, the luxury of hindsight," he mused, drawing a finger around the edge of his wine cup. His gaze returned to Liam. "If I could change things, perhaps I'd study dragon lore a little earlier. And maybe I'd have kept that wonderful pair of hart leather boots I once had, the ones I lost in a rather... erm, interesting night in Minrathous," he chuckled.
"Must everything be about boots with you?" Liam groaned, feigning exasperation.
"It might have to, yes," Dorian replied. More seriously, he continued, "But to the heart of your question: every choice, good or bad, has shaped the man you see before you. It's tempting to dwell on the 'what ifs' and 'if onlys'. But I believe that every experience, every lesson, has its value. We grow, we evolve." Dorian looked into the distance, introspective for a heartbeat. "And perhaps, in some twisted way, every misstep has led me here, to this moment, with friends like you. So, I'd choose to look forward. The past is a guide, not an anchor."
Dorian took a deep sip of his wine, feeling a bit more vulnerable than he'd like, but hoping the honesty in his answer was evident.
"But enough of my philosophical ramblings. What about you, Inquisitor? Which would you choose?" He turned the question back to Liam, as much to divert attention from himself as to genuinely hear the man's response.
Liam sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I... I guess I can honestly say I have very few regrets. Most of it, I'd do again. I'm also quite happy to be where I am," he said, yet it sounded like there was a 'but', and Liam saw that Dorian noticed it too. "I only sometimes wonder what could have been… Not about the Conclave or the Inquisition, though. Despite all the hardships and pain, I'm glad to be here."
Dorian tilted his head, studying Liam with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Ah, the enigmatic 'what could have been.' It's a dance many of us are familiar with, I believe. You've piqued my interest, Inquisitor. And when Dorian Pavus is intrigued, he's relentless." He flashed a playful grin. "But, if there's a weight on your heart, perhaps it's best to voice it. Or," he glanced at the wine jug, raising an eyebrow, "we can drown it in copious amounts of alcohol. In any case," Dorian added, feeling that playfulness creeping back in, "you've caught me in a particularly generous mood. I might even offer sage advice, or at the very least, another round of our game to distract you."
"No advice needed, the thing is done." Liam sounded suddenly serious. He rose from his seat, surprising Dorian with the swiftness of his motion. "Excuse me for a moment, will you?"
The Inquisitor did not wait for a reply, an unusual impoliteness that made Dorian's neck tingle with alarm. Had he overstepped a boundary, hit a raw nerve? Biting his own tongue, he debated whether or not to follow Liam – would it make him seem too eager, would it feel like admitting defeat?
When Dorian Pavus is intrigued, he's relentless, his own words echoed in his head, and he scoffed at himself. More like, when Dorian Pavus is intrigued, he's paralyzed, afraid of making a wrong move.
Apparently, the Inquisitor was right about one thing: Not caring whether he won or lost was not something Dorian was particularly good at, no matter how hard he tried.