Chapter Text
The evening was growing late, though the festivities were just starting in the great hall of Skyhold. A gathering of many people, some noblemen, some middle class peasants, others that traveled from halfway around the world to attend. All wishing to be in the presence of the Inquisitor Adaar and her Inquisition. It was to be a meeting of peace and discussion on their next act against the portals that continued to spit demons out with each passing moment. Sure, they could close one at a time, but that can only go so far. They weren't immortal or anything. Most living beings need breaks too. A sigh escaped the Tevinter mage as he took gentle steps through the crowd. Vivienne was greeting a great deal of the noblemen. Winning several of their hearts with ease, though, she just as quickly turned them down. . Blackwall was in one of the many corners, not really sulking, but observing. He'd loosen up, eventually. Solas was no where to be seen. Probably in his study just a few doors away. If he wanted to get away from the gathering, he should try for the cellar or the kitchen. It was loud enough that no one could really hear their own thoughts without proper concentration. He smiled at the though. An annoyed Solas. There was perhaps no real way to get away from all the noise. Oh well. He shrugged and continued to look with his silver shaded eyes. Curious as to what else he'd find. His gaze finally locked onto Adaar and a small handful of peasant folk, discussing stories of her grand adventures and what she hops to do in the very near future. Some laughing echoed around them and Dorian knew it was not an entirely serious conversation. Good. The Inquisitor needed to have some joy in her dark life. Banishing demons all day can really effect one's mood for quite some time.
"Hey, sparkler, you try the wine? It's really sweet! I'm making sure I have some before you get your pretty hands on it." A low voice boomed and Dorian was forced to look down at the small Dwarf Rogue. The man smiled big, having obviously had several glasses already. Dorian smirked back, feeling his mustache tickle his cheek just a tad.
"I'll...keep that in mind, yes. Thank you, Varric." He nodded, still smirking as the Dwarf chuckled back. "Though, I would like to think you've had more than enough, given the face your making." He tilted his head towards him as his eyes glanced around once more before focusing back to the Rogue.
"Nooonsense! I'm fine! Best I've felt in ages! Seriously, you should get some before it's gone..!" He added, stepping away with a wink, trotting wuickly towards the Inquisitor and offering his wise words into the current story. Shaking his head, Dorian figured now was better than any other time to grab a glass or two. He made way to the bar, passing several people and was given a lovely pat on his shoulder from a passer by. He turned with a raised brow, not meaning to give off such a confused look. It was a man, eyes half open and a smile wide as ever.
"Ser Pavus?" He was greeted with. Dorian stopped his walk in full, the hand still on his shoulder. "Yes?" Tone spoke with hints of confusion. There were many strangers here, but he did not give his last name so openly in the room just yet. Perhaps someone said something, who knew, but it still took Dorian off guard just a tad. It was a face he had never seen before. Though, the skin showed signs of being tan and well kept. Not a scratch on the older man's face. He was, perhaps, in his forties, not too old but enough to show he's seen a great deal of things in his life. The man bowed lowering his head steady. "It is an honor to meet you in person. I've heard many a stories involving your talents and power. All aiming to bring peace to this breaking world. I thank you." The man stated. His accent dripping with tones of Tevinter. It was enough to make the Mage stutter just slightly.
"I-I..yes, well, thank you, good sir." He bowed his head back, but it wasn't as long. A quick little bow and a small smile. "It's an honor to help. I hope we can succeed with this mission and then we can work on truly bringing peace." His words were, somewhat, false, but he did not wish to be bitter this evening. He wanted to express joy and move on form the dark things of the past. The future seemed to be bright, even with the threat of the end of the world by some old Magister's creepy hands. But they were looking past him and onto the possibilities of what lay before them.
"Well, it is good to see someone representing Tevinter in such a positive light. There are not many who can do such a thing." The older man nodded, his smile warm, but his eyes seemed searching. Dorian simply shook his head. "By no means am I a good man. I just wished to do what was right. That should be the case for anyone, no matter where they come from, sir." He tilted his head a tad, almost giving off a small smolder. The man chuckled with a shake of his head, his feet moving him away and towards others. "Don't look so down on yourself, ser." He finished, giving a wave.
"You're to become a great legacy, after all." His words were of a whisper, his grin shifting to a sinister type of smile, but Dorian paid no mind to it. He wanted some of that wine Varric was talking about. Making it to the tables of various goods, Dorian grabbed a free glass and began pouring himself some, watching it carefully, as if he were painting.
"Finally." A deep, booming voice echoed behind him. Dorian did not move. "I was wonderin' when you'd get your hands on this stuff." A small chuckle left Dorian.
"Bull." The Mage's voice was content, joyful even, to know Bull came down on his own volition. He was proud of him, almost. Feeling the Qunari's body against him showed what he feared.
No shirt. Again. A small sigh escaped the mage.
"You could not even wear a vest?" He stated, slowly turning to the Bull with a wide smile, eyes wide as he looked over his amatus. A large armed shrug followed. "Hey, it was warm out, and I'd rather not deal with the buttons.." He stated with a sigh, raising his hands and wiggling the fingers he had. "These fingers aren't really meant to put buttons through holes. Not without a few popping off." He chuckled. Dorian soon followed in the chuckle. "You can always ask me for help, you know?" He snarked back, swirling the red wine with a hum to his tone. Bull simply rolled his eye. "And have you pick on me and my sausage fingers? Not a chance." He leaned in, gently brushing his lips against the Mage's cheek. A light peck was given and Dorian gave off a grunt of approval. He could feel his warm breath brush against his skin, the prickle of his chin hair against his shaved jaw. "You need a shave, dear Bull." Dorian mumbled, holding back a louder chuckle. The warrior moved his head back, eye looking down at the turned mage. He turned Dorian by his shoulders and brought him into a small hug. Dorain, being cautious, move his hands out of the way so the wine would not spill. His free hand gently patted the Bulls's side.
"Is this an 'I really missed you" hug?" He asked curiously, making sure nothing were to spill. Bull nodded. "Am I that obvious?" He asked with hints of sarcasm. Dorian simply scoffed as the hug broke and he took a sip from the glass. "It's alright. I don't know many who wouldn't want to be in between those strong arms of yours." He laughed again as he made sure to take another quick sip. Bull continued to stare, smiling with that ever loving smile he always held when they were alone. Even among the crowd, it felt as if the room held just Bull and himself. Dorian could live with that. But, alas, he still had guests to entertain. Anything for the lovely Inquisitor. She had a lot on her plate, even though she was a Qunari, there was only so much to pairs of hands can do.
"Well, I will take my leave, Bull. Later tonight, perhaps?" He asked with a raised brow.
"My room or yours?" The Iron Bull stated with his loving grin growing sly. A tsk and a shake of his head, the Mage finished off the last of the wine that he had sipped through the conversation. Though, it all seemed to still, his fingers loosened and dropped the glass as fast as gravity could take it. Dorian's form slumped and his eyes were hazed. Thankfully, Bull was near by and ran to catch him before his body could land on any of the glass.
"Dorian??" Bull asked, wondering if he had just tripped or chugged too fast. But he was not given a reply, not even a witty remark for his quickness. Instead, he was met with half lidded eyes and an expression of shock and pain. "Dorian? Are you alright? What happened?" Bull asked, his other hand moving to his face, rubbing the cheek he had kissed only moments ago. Still. No reply. He shifted the body, trying to find a wound of some kind. Anything to give reason for his behavior. His eye landed right onto a weird green sliver at the dead center of his back. Like some odd mist, it went away, leaving no wound or any evidence. Bull had no idea what that was, or why it was there, but he could not point it out to anyone now. Some of the guests were ignoring the two or were far enough not to notice. That is, till Bull began to shout for medical.
"Hey-! We need medical over here! Something happened to Dorian!" He called, gaining the attention of the Inquisitor. Bull continued to look down at the fallen Mage, noticing his eyes had fully closed, lips parted and expression still pained. Bull's heart raced. "Come on, big guy, stay with me." His voice shook, trying everything in his power to stay calm. But the more he stared, the more he worried. The sounds of rushing feet gathered and Bull remained at Dorian's side. His hand falling at one of his wrists, gripping just slightly, only to gasp.
"What is it!? Did something happen to him?" Vivienne asked with haste, stepping through the party guests and knelt down by both of them. Bull did not look up. The Qunari's head remained lowered. "Bull." Vivienne asked once more. No reply.
"Bull!" The Inquisitor called, finally breaking through to the inner circle. Her voice deep and powerful enough to part the crowd. She let out a small gasp as she noticed the fallen body of Dorian. A shattered glass and a crumbling Bull. "What happened?" Adaar asked with mimicking haste of Vivienne who still knelt in waiting. A doctor and a handful of nurses came over, prepared to look over him. Poison? Was he shot? A dagger? Was there a spy among them? Finally, a breath and Bull was beginning to speak.
"There's no pulse on him." He growled. "Bull, hand him over to the healers. We've got to move." Adaar ordered where Bull hesitantly, but quickly moved to follow. They carried him off with haste as Bull stood and the party guests began to clear by order of the guardsmen. Seems they were all at risk and Dorian was the unlucky guy to be hit first. Dammit. Bull's fists tightened and their color changed, but he did not move. Adaar looked to him, worry in her gaze. "Bull, what happened to him?!" Bull shook his head.
"I-I don't know. We were talking just fine, he had some wine, we laughed, he turned and just..fell." He stated, remembering what just occurred. "It all happened so fast. He didn't even speak." His tone was shaken, obviously of anger and fear for Dorian. "If he dies from this, I.." A gentle touch to his arm made his words stop entirely. "We'll figure this out, Bull. Right now, we'll keep him with the healers." Bull nodded after several moments and moved with Adaar as the rest of the Inquisition tried to sort of the ordeal.
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What ran though Dorian's mind was panic, confusion, and pain. All things Dorian did not wish to experience this evening, but it seems not everyone can get what they want. He remembers feeling his body go limp, the last thing he saw was the glass on the floor and the three fingered hand of Bull grabbing him. But that was it. His light eyes opened and a heavy gasp filled his lungs. Rising quickly, the Mage tried to get to his feet, but his body felt all kinds of heavy. "Wh-?" His body hurt. Everything was weighted and his vision was completely blurred. He still had his clothes on, which is good. Yes. Good. It would do him no good to freeze in such a state. His eyes blinked several times while his fingers flexed, trying to regain all touch before moving much further. He felt tingly, as if a thousand needles were prickling him all over at once.
"Hello?" Dorian finally called out into the howling wind that surrounded him. He could feel his hair was off, the gust of wind brushing his bare shoulder and face. Where was he? All he could see was fog. Green fog. Dark stone and a lime green sky. Wait. He had seen this before.
"No.." He whispered in shock. It couldn't be. Could it? Was he dreaming?
"Hello!?" He called out once more.
"Please, why am I here?!" The Mage got to his feet, fighting all urge to sit back down and curl into a ball. He raised a hand, touching his face. Okay, he was here. Even made effort to pinch his cheek. "Gah-!" Okay, most definitely here.
Damn.
Panic was beginning to grab him by the throat. It was one thing to go with the Inquisitor and the others, but now... he was on his own. No one replied to his calls. No signs of life anywhere. He didn't even have his staff on him. He tried to stay calm. Tried to keep focused. Perhaps if he wandered enough, he could get out. He had to. There's no way he'd stay trapped here. He wouldn't allow it. With one foot in front of the other, the Tevinter Mage began his trek into the Fade. His skin shivered, feeling the chill of the air break into his very form. He had to try. To sit and do nothing is a death sentience. He had to figure out why he was here. How did he even get here? All things he wished to know and hoped he would find out the further he ventured in. He kept quiet and his head low, hands to his sides in efforts to prepare for a fight.
"Not entirely how I wanted to spend the evening." He confessed to himself mainly as his feet continued to crunch through the dark dirt and ash.
This was going to be a long day. Night. Whatever time it was here.