Chapter 6 - Forbidden Romances (The Tavern Night Part 3)
The Inquisitor's face betrayed no emotions when he returned after what had felt like an eternity, even if it had probably been just a few minutes. It was hard to tell whether he had spoken to Bull downstairs, simply taken a piss, or quietly cried in a corner. The worst thing, however, was that Dorian knew he himself was unable to mask the discomfort and anxiety in his impeccably groomed face. Liam's behaviour had the usually flippant mage on the edge of his seat, quite literally.
"Sorry for making you wait," the Inquisitor said calmly, sitting back down with a sigh. "You were offering advice. I don't want to appear ungrateful."
Dorian waved the words away with a gesture of feigned nonchalance. "Oh, don't be ridiculous, my dear Inquisitor. The whole South is ungrateful for the marvel that is the scion of House Pavus, so a piece of advice turned down should be the least of your worries," Dorian said, injecting as much playfulness into his tone as he could, hoping to mask his anxiety at last.
"That may be so, but I know you were being kind. And curious. And, hey, a little self-deprecation cannot hurt, can it now? So, here's what you must know about my... well, not 'regret', but constant 'what if'. It's a relationship thing. Forbidden romance. You're familiar with those?" Liam's eyebrows twitched as he tilted his head to look at Dorian in a way that was so awfully sweet, it was hard not to hug the Inquisitor.
"Forbidden romances? Me? Why, I've absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Dorian feigned ignorance, tapping a finger to his chin theatrically. "In all seriousness, I might have dabbled—once or twice—in such... scandalous affairs. Tevinter thrives on secrecy and forbidden liaisons, after all. It's practically a rite of passage for us."
Leaning back in his chair, Dorian locked eyes with Liam, his tone gentler now.
"But it seems to me you're not speaking in hypotheticals. There's someone in your past—or present—who's left a mark on you. Someone you can't quite shake." He gave the Inquisitor a soft, sympathetic smile. "Care to share? I promise, it'll stay between us."
"Share? Huh… Why not?" Liam shrugged. He emptied his wine, sighed deeply, and stared into the empty cup. "A few years ago, I had an affair. One that my family didn't approve of. One that I ended, thinking it was the best... for everyone involved. One that I didn't want to realize meant so much to me." He sighed again and looked at Dorian hesitantly. "You're not going to judge me, are you?"
He sounded vulnerable, almost sweet, and the desire to touch him – just for comfort – became unbearable for Dorian. The mage slowly reached across the table, laying his hand on Liam's for a brief moment. The gesture was delicate, intimate without being intrusive, offering silent support.
"Liam," he began, his voice softer than its usual timbre of playful sarcasm, "judging people is a tedious affair, best left for the Chantry clerics and their ilk." He withdrew his hand slowly, holding Liam's gaze. "We've all made decisions in the heat of a moment, decisions that, in retrospect, we might have done differently. It's what makes us human. Or elf, or qunari, or whatever species you might fall under," he added with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the mood ever so slightly. "But, in earnest, I understand. Families, societal expectations, they can weigh us down, leading us to make choices we believe are 'right' when they're just... convenient. And often, the heart gets the brunt of it." Dorian paused, choosing his next words carefully. "You are trusting me with this, and I honour that. No judgment here, only understanding and a willing ear."
Liam nodded, running his hand over his face. "So... I'm not sure how to put this in a way that wouldn't offend most people, but since you're hard to offend, I'll just spill the beans. I was twenty-one, serving at the court of Teyrn Moreland of Ostwick, and I was quite enamoured with Lady Elise... the teyrn's daughter-in-law," Liam said, but Dorian could tell that wasn't all. "At least, that was the official version." Liam bit his lip, and then sighed in frustration. "Actually, I was bedding both Elise and her husband, the teyrn's son and heir, Aidan. There, it's out."
Dorian's eyebrows shot up, clearly caught off guard by this revelation. He blinked a few times, his usually quick wit momentarily frozen as he processed what Liam had just shared. After a few beats, he leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his cup thoughtfully.
"Well, Inquisitor," he began, attempting to recover his composure with a playful lilt to his voice, "you've certainly outdone my expectations for juicy gossip tonight. And here I thought Tevinter had a monopoly on scandalous affairs."
"Apparently not," was the dry answer he got.
Dorian took a sip from his cup, eyeing Liam with a smirk, "Threesomes in Marcher nobility, with both husband and wife? You're either incredibly brave or... no, just incredibly brave." Clearing his throat, his tone shifted to one more sincere, adding, "My friend, I imagine that must have been... complicated, to say the least. A love triangle of that nature, especially within nobility, is no small affair. I can't claim to fully grasp the intricacies of your situation, but I'm here to listen if you need."
"Actually, it was terribly easy," Liam said, shrugging almost helplessly. "She was pretty and charming, and he was smart... and suave. Everyone in Ostwick liked them. It was hard not to fall for them... both of them. And well, one day... urgh." He sighed and looked at Dorian. "Lady Elise invited me to her bed, and decent little me said no, and then her husband showed up, inviting me again, and when I stared at him dumbfounded, he kissed me until I no longer knew why I had objected in the first place." Liam chuckled nervously at that.
Dorian blinked, his surprise evident, but he tried hard to maintain an air of levity. "Well," he started with a mischievous smile, "I suppose when two attractive, insistent nobles come knocking on your door, one would be hard-pressed to decline. Especially if kisses are involved in their persuasion tactics. I can see why you might look back on it with some wistfulness, despite any complications. Passion, desire, affection... When they come together, it's hard not to get swept away, especially when it's shared with two individuals."
"It wasn't just passion, Dorian," Liam insisted, uncharacteristically calling Dorian by his first name, a clear indication of how serious he was right now. He winced, the memory of the pain fresh in his slightly intoxicated mind. "I loved them," the Inquisitor confessed, his tone a vulnerable whisper.
Dorian's usually playful expression shifted, his amber eyes softened with genuine empathy. He placed his wine cup down slowly, giving the confession the gravity it deserved.
"I..." he began, his voice a gentle cadence, "...I can see how deep this runs for you. And I won't belittle it with jests or playful remarks. Love is a tempestuous beast, even more so when shared between three souls. A love that deep, that intricate... It's something not many get to experience in their lifetimes." He looked intently at Liam, his voice filled with curiosity and a touch of melancholy, daring to ask, "But, Liam, if it was love—true love—why did you walk away from it? What was the price of that love?"
Liam made a snorting sound. "Well, did I say my family disapproved? They were the ones still taking it rather well. Aidan's father was even more livid. When he found out, he didn't just throw me out the house – he had Aidan do it, and made him publicly admit that his wife had been fornicating with another man. Of course the fact that Aidan and I had also been intimate was casually neglected. 'Bann Trevelyan's son, the ungrateful seducer, Lady Elise, the unfaithful harlot, Aidan Moreland, the sorry husband.' Simple story. Sells easily." His tone sounded bitter. "But it was either that, or the teyrn would have disinherited Aidan, annulled the marriage, and sent Elise to a Chantry."
Dorian could tell that Liam was now close to tears, for the Inquisitor's voice was trembling. That realization made his heart ache, and for once, his usually quick-witted tongue was silent. He reached out, hesitated for a brief moment, then gently touched Liam's hand, a simple gesture of comfort and understanding. To his surprise, Liam took his hand and squeezed it hard.
"Such cruelty from the hands of the powerful. The lengths some go to in order to maintain appearances and power," Dorian mused. After a heartbeat, his eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of determination mixed with curiosity. "But, Liam, here's what I don't understand: Now, you're the Inquisitor. Your name is on everyone's lips. You have respect, influence, and power that even the most stubborn of teyrns would find difficult to defy. If you still hold a candle for them—and I daresay, by the passion in your voice, you do—why not go back? You could bring them to Skyhold. Aidan, Elise, and yourself, safe from prying eyes and disapproving fathers."
"Just like your old mentor Alexius, I can't turn back time," Liam said, his voice sounding hollow. "They're both lost to me."
He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, and then sighed. Dorian could feel his hand was trembling.
"Ah... um, my scandalous dismissal wasn't enough, it seems. Whatever conflict there was between Aidan and his father... I'm not sure. All I know is that there's no going back." Liam winced before looking at Dorian, tears in his beautiful blue eyes. "He's dead. Aidan. Suicide, they said. Couldn't bear the shame of his cheating wife. But I know that's bullshit." Liam sniffled, and withdrew his hand, wiping away a tear. "Anyway, Elise was thrown out the day after Aidan died. They didn't even allow her to go to the funeral, or so I heard. Drove her into penury. I have no idea what became of her... only that Aidan's bitch of a half-sister is the teyrn's heir now, and all those turn-cloaks who used to love Aidan and Elise now pretend they never knew them."
A pause followed, heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears. Dorian's usual veneer of confident charisma crumbled, and his face registered the shock and pain that Liam's confession had invoked. The atmosphere around them felt heavy, laden with sorrow and remorse.
"Maker's breath..." Dorian whispered, unable to formulate a more comprehensive response initially. Taking a moment, he collected himself, the gravity of Liam's words weighing heavily on him. "I... I'm truly sorry, Liam. Such tragedies... they're scars that remain fresh no matter how much time passes."
He leaned forward, searching Liam's face for signs of how he might proceed, hesitating but then reaching out to tentatively touch Liam's shoulder.
"The world can be a cruel place, sometimes impossibly so," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But know this, Liam, you've done incredible things as the Inquisitor, and you have the power to honour their memories. To ensure that Aidan's half-sister doesn't tarnish what they stood for. And as for Elise..." Dorian's gaze became determined as he added, "If there's a way, if you wish it, I will help you find her."
Liam winced again. "Thank you," he whispered. "But I already have Leliana looking into the matter, even if it's utterly selfish. I'm not sure though that Elise is still alive... or wishes to be found. She will most likely hate me for abandoning her and Aidan. It's... it's been five years. And while Aidan and I accepted his father's cruel deal, she never did. She would have fought for us. And perhaps she was right." Liam sighed deeply, and then frowned. "Maker, I've truly ruined the mood, haven't I?"
Dorian's eyes were still softened with concern, the weight of Liam's revelation evident in the way he looked at the Inquisitor. But at Liam's last words, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Dorian's mouth. He leaned back slightly, drawing in a deep breath to regain his own composure.
"You have," he replied with a gentle teasing lilt, "but my dear Inquisitor, life is messy, and some stories need to be shared, even if they dampen an otherwise delightful evening." He reached out, once more placing a comforting hand over Liam's. "Do not berate yourself for sharing. Such burdens aren't meant to be carried alone. And concerning Lady Elise, the heart has a way of healing itself. Who knows what time may have wrought? It's entirely possible she remembers the love you both had more than the hurt."
Dorian hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
"And on the topic of moods, while I adore our banter and casual escapades, I appreciate seeing this side of you. Not that I wish you pain, but understanding the depths of another's soul is a privilege not granted to many." He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, to salvage our mood, shall we toast to memories, both painful and pleasant, and to the future which remains unwritten?"
"As much as I appreciate the booze, I don't feel like toasting right now. Either I let out the anger I feel on something, preferably an inanimate object, or I'll find myself some emotional comfort for the pain. But don't worry, I won't ask you to hug me. I know you're not the kind of person for that." Liam's tone sounded sincere, almost mature in the way he understood and dealt with his own pain.
Dorian's fingers tapped on the table, a contemplative rhythm echoing his thoughts. He took a moment to regard Liam, the anguish in his eyes so profound that it stirred a deep empathy within him. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and said, "You might think I'm allergic to such sentiments, but you're wrong, Inquisitor." He sighed, pushing his chair back and standing. "If you have the urge to demolish something, I can gladly escort you to the training grounds. Or we can find some old relics that won't be missed. But if you ever, and I mean ever," Dorian said, emphasizing with a pointed finger, "believe for one moment that I wouldn't offer my shoulder, or, dare I say it, an embrace to a friend in turmoil... then you severely underestimate my capacity for being, occasionally, human." Pausing for dramatic effect, Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Now, will you let me hug you, or shall we go wreak havoc on some unsuspecting vases?"
Liam waited for a moment. After that, he rose to his feet swiftly, his gaze studying Dorian's eyes intently. And then, without further ado, he pulled Dorian close, their bodies pressed against each other, with Liam resting his head on Dorian's shoulder. For a split second, Dorian was taken aback by the unexpected closeness, the warmth and weight of Liam against him. But as soon as the initial surprise faded, Dorian's arms instinctively wrapped around Liam, holding him securely. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in this intimate embrace.
After a while, Dorian pulled back slightly, enough to lock eyes with Liam, though their bodies were still close. "You know, for an Inquisitor, you have a rather captivating way of catching one off-guard," Dorian remarked, trying to lighten the mood with his signature wit, even though his voice trembled slightly. He took a deep breath, searching for the right words, "And while I… I may cloak myself in humour and sarcasm, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate genuine connection, or fail to recognize someone in pain. You matter, Liam. And if you ever need an ear, a shoulder, or an unexpectedly skilled hugger, you know where to find me." Dorian tried to give a reassuring smile, but it was evident that he was deeply affected by the rawness of the moment. "Besides, we must keep the rumours at Skyhold spicy, no?" he added, smirking, trying to inject a bit of levity back into the heavy atmosphere.
Liam let go of him reluctantly, smiling wryly. "Of course, the rumours are important. Do me a favour, will you? If they talk about the two of us, make sure they all believe the sex is good. Anything less than 'earth-shattering' would be a grave insult to my pride," he said chuckling, indicating that his emotional turmoil was slowly subsiding. He sat down again and took his wine cup with trembling hands.
Dorian raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Earth-shattering, you say? My, my, aren't we confident?" He chuckled, relaxing back into his seat. "Very well, my friend, earth-shattering it is. But let's be clear, if they're going to gossip, I expect you to maintain that it was equally spectacular on my end as well." However, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his eyes, a rare sight for those familiar with Dorian's usual bravado. "You know, it's curious. Here we are, jesting about rumours and romantic exploits, yet, amidst all the playful banter, I can't help but wonder... What if there's something more tangible beneath it all? Something... genuine?" Dorian paused, brushing a strand of hair back from his face, clearly uncomfortable.
"Genuine?" Liam, attempting to drink from his cup, paused mid-motion, causing Dorian's palms to suddenly start sweating.
Dorian let out a sigh, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "Blast it all. I despise such sentimentality. Perhaps it's the wine speaking, or perhaps it's the allure of the Inquisitor's radiant charisma," Dorian said with a smirk, deflecting with humour as he so often did when confronted with his own vulnerabilities. Taking a sip from his own wine cup, he continued, "But really, I must warn you, I'm notoriously terrible at matters of the heart. There's a reason I cloak myself in wit and sarcasm—it's far safer than dealing with genuine emotions. So, if you're considering a... deeper connection, know that it comes with a substantial risk of heartache. And not just from the gossip mill." He raised his cup slightly, a challenging gleam in his eye.
Much to Dorian's surprise, Liam simply said "I know," as if he had actually thought about all that Dorian had said before - including the possibility of there ever being more between them than friendship. But instead of elaborating on that thought, Liam emptied his wine cup and ran a hand through his hair. "I had better go to bed. Sorry for ruining our 'would you rather' game. We'll do that again some other time, alright?" He shifted on his seat, indicating that he meant to rise for good.
Dorian blinked a few times, processing Liam's succinct response. His usual silver tongue seemed momentarily stilled by the unexpectedness of it all. There was a brief silence, the tension palpable.
"Ruining?" Dorian finally managed to quip, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm, "Why, my dear Inquisitor, I was merely beginning to find it interesting." He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart and bring some clarity to the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. "Liam, you've a knack for leaving me both perplexed and intrigued. A formidable combination, I must admit. And while I would love to unravel the enigma that is you another time, I find myself genuinely concerned for your well-being tonight. If you need anything... company, more wine, a listening ear... please know that my door is open." He then added with a playful smirk, "Though I must insist that if you do come knocking, you ought to have a better excuse than our abandoned game."
Dorian took a sip of wine, his gaze never leaving Liam's, attempting to decipher the Inquisitor's thoughts.
"I think I crossed more than enough boundaries for one night," Liam objected, rising from his chair. He walked around the table, placing a hand on Dorian's shoulder in a gesture that felt strangely intimate without being flirty. "Thank you for offering though." Liam squeezed Dorian's shoulder gently. "And don't worry about my well-being. I always pull through. It's the upside of never truly caring about losing, you see?" He said, reminding Dorian of the beginning of tonight's conversation, when Liam had claimed his easy charm and battle skill were both ultimately due to him not caring whether he won or lose, survived or died. After hearing all about Elise and Aidan... that darkness in his tone made so much more sense now. "Night, Pavus," Liam murmured, letting go of Dorian's shoulder.
Dorian looked up, meeting Liam's gaze. There was a depth to it, a weight, which seemed to magnify the distance between the two men despite the intimacy of the touch on his shoulder. Dorian, who usually had a witty comeback for every occasion, found himself speechless. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard.
"Liam," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, the usual bravado missing. "Promise me you'll talk to someone if it ever gets too dark. If not me, then... anyone. You don't always have to be the indomitable Inquisitor. Remember, even the strongest pillars need support sometimes."
The Inquisitor looked at him, his face almost motionless, tired, weary, but there was a hint of a smile, however sad and tired it may seem. He seemed to want to say something, but didn't. Instead he just nodded and left the tavern. As Liam's silhouette receded into the darkness of the stairs, Dorian sat there in the candlelit tavern, his fingers tracing the edge of his now empty wine cup. He was no stranger to stories of heartbreak, of political machinations destroying innocent love, but hearing it from Liam, seeing the raw pain in his eyes, was an altogether different experience. One he was entirely unprepared for, it seemed.
Note: And so, the tavern night is over. Hope you enjoyed the flirtatious banter (of which I feel we get not nearly enough in the game, Dorian is an endless well of it!) and the attempt to give the Inquisitor a little more backstory and depth. Kudos to anyone who can guess the inspiration for Liam's romance gone wrong (tip: it's a ten-year-old series).
Enjoy your lives!