[Dorian chuckled softly, looking back over at him. It would be so simple, were he a different man, but Dorian wasn't like the broken and crooked men. Fenris had clearly spelled out to him his boundaries- and Dorian respected that.
Much as he wanted to reach out, to take the elf's jaw in his hand, and see what his skin felt like under his fingers.]
You are a remarkable man, Fenris. Not because of what you are, but who you are. I only regret that we had not met before this.
[He took another drink, looking him over, and then looked away.]
But yes, you are an attractive man. Just dangerous enough to make me cautious of pointing that out, as well.
[And that respect spoke volumes to the elf, it truly did. For someone to whom Tevinter mages were just there to take advantage, use them as they liked, the restraint was...very welcome. ]
I have done very little that is remarkable. Everything I have achieved, I have done so through others.
[First the Fog Warriors, then Hawke. He couldn't face his demons alone, ultimately, he still needed the crutch of someone else. Living by his own actions was harder than he'd anticipated. ]
You wish to speak of being remarkable, you should look inward. You have stood up to people who would likely kill you for your ideals. You plan to return, to take out the rot and make it a better place. I may believe you are idealistic in your efforts, but it does not mean I do not admire you for them.
[A pause, a half-smile. ]
Nor would I harm you for paying me compliments. Though I am sure there are others far more deserving of your attentions than I. You are an attractive man yourself, Dorian, you must have them lined up at your door.
Ah, the tales I could tell. But I am not one to speak of them, but you might assume that. The truth is that there were men that I favored, but the only lines at my door were women that my father wanted to marry me off to, like I was a piece of prize livestock.
My father saw to that.
[He takes a drink. The words were spoken candidly, with a tone of almost amusement, a mask for his own voice to hide the deep sorrow that, in some ways, he was a mere pawn.]
But I suppose we would not be products of the Imperium if we were not fractured in some way. Better to be a bit broken than rotting out from the inside, like most Magisters.
[It was gently said, quietly. It wasn't a fear of becoming fond of Magisters, no, it was a fear of becoming fond of anyone at all. Isabela, Vanadi, they had been casual, just sex. It made things easier, it let him feel like he had some control over a romantic entanglement. A control Danarius wrenched from him often, there he had thought there were true feelings, true affection, they turned out to be lies. Manipulation. Never again, he had sworn.
But...]
Honestly, not many seek mine out. I am not exactly...sociable.
[He nearly had a cutting remark, a witty retort, to push Fenris away. He's not used to allowing himself to feel anything more than surface fondness for anyone- giving them a sociable front to hide the fact that everyone was kept at more than arm's length away.]
I suppose I make up for that. Though, the quiet suits me just as well. Back in Skyhold, and even in Tevinter, I spent most of my time surrounded by books. I'm certain I might not look it, but...I always did care for books more than other people. Books are more straightforward, and they rarely gossip about you, or tell you that you're lacking.
[He smiled a bit.
He never needed to feign that he was more interested in his studies than in women.]
I have not become as comfortable with them, yet. I am still learning how to read them at all. But I can see why they would be a comfort to you. They are an escape.
[He doesn't seem fazed by it, if anything, he smiles a bit, almost cheerfully.]
That is not a fault, Fenris! Here, why don't we make an agreement- I'll tutor you. I have some experience in that, and it would give me an excuse to see you more often, if you'd like.
You'll be keeping up with Varric's novels in no time, Fenris.
[He said it, assuming that Fenris would want to read what their mutual friend had to say.]
Adventures, romance, I've always thought it admirable that he could craft a story. My own writings were considerably more scholarly. I suppose I would only fail at writing romance, I'm not even entirely certain what it feels like.
[It's a protest, to keep up his facade, and then he takes a drink, settling for trying to reach for honesty.]
There was...things are different, in Tevinter, you understand. Men fall into each others beds without much of a second thought. But...anything more than that is something that no sane man would allow himself to hope for.
I'm not certain I will ever find it, or anything like it.
[Said with no small amount of disdain. He looks at his wine again, considers, and takes a drink. If they're going to be honest. ]
None of my dalliances have ever had any real feeling to them. It was just physical. Not just with Isabela, but with an elf I met in the Initiative, also. He and I had...similar backgrounds, but even then I never let myself feel. It's dangerous.
[And that was the thing, wasn't it? It was safer, behind the walls. You never had to fear someone hurting you. Someone finding how absolutely broken you are and walking away. Or worse, uncovering more of the brokenness in yourself.
At his offer, Fenris gives a soft chuckle, not believing it at first. He has grown to like Dorian, for he is nothing like the Tevinter mages Fenris knows. Perhaps that's why Fenris wrote the other man off as out of his league a while ago. Dorian is indefinitely a better person than he is, in many different ways. ]
[Dorian chuckles, a low, amused sound that doesn't belong in any Magister's throat, and he takes a drink.
Likely that Fenris didn't know how beautiful he was, or if he did, he wrote himself off for some other reason. It was curious.
They were both broken men, but perhaps their cracks and flaws matched, in some way. Perhaps the fissures in their hearts were alike enough to be understanding, but different enough that they could stand together, somehow.]
Trust me, were I to tease you, it would be considerably more direct. Perhaps I would say something like I do wonder if the rest of you is as impressive as the glimpses of skin I can see. Or, perhaps I might give you a challenging smirk and say that I can find better uses for my lips than just giving useless offers.
[Oh. Well. Fenris exhales, seemingly taken aback for a moment. This could be a disaster. Chances are it would be a disaster, but a part of him honestly doesn't care. Maybe just this once, he can throw caution to the wind. Truly be free. His lips curl into a lopsided smirk, as he turns to Dorian. ]
[Fenris makes a small sound of amusement, before standing. Much as he has done many times before, when he leaves Dorian alone to his drinking after they've spoken. This time, however, he pauses before passing Dorian by, placing a hand on the other man's shoulder - the first voluntary contact he's made. It speaks volumes, really.
He leans in a little closer, to speak quietly into Dorian's ear. ]
Then show me.
[And, without giving Dorian the chance to reply, he heads off in the direction of his room, leaving the choice to follow him or not entirely up to the mage.]
[Fenris touches him, and the weight of that settles on him- the hand on his shoulder is regarded almost as a benediction- for someone who hated Tevinter, for the Magisterium, for the man that Dorian was meant to be, Fenris trusted him enough to welcome him into his bed.
Dorian didn't waste much time- he threw back his whiskey and followed, not too closely, but enough that he was able to pick up the pace when they neared his room, and Dorian was able to follow him inside.
[Fenris had moved quietly and carefully, as an elf is wont to do, listening for Dorian's following footsteps. He smiles, a little, at the sound of the closing door, turning and stepping up to him, pressing a hand on his chest.]
[He covered the hand on his chest with his own, almost hesitantly, not wanting to step farther than Fenris was willing to go, keenly aware that sometimes, someone, likely pushed him too far.
And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
[The sad truth was, there was always pain. Every waking second. But he would push past it, when he could. If he didn't...well, his life would be exponentially more lonely than it already is. HIs smile softens at the touch. He's not used to it. Isabela and Vanadi both had been desperate, hungry tumbles. This felt...different, and he was afraid to think on too long why it was so. No. It was easier not to think at all. ]
I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
[The truth of it was that Dorian was fighting against a gnawing loneliness- he had not felt someone else's touch since he left Tevinter- the last man had been Rilienus. Dorian could almost still taste him, the memory of the first man he loved haunting him like a ghost.
It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
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no subject
Much as he wanted to reach out, to take the elf's jaw in his hand, and see what his skin felt like under his fingers.]
You are a remarkable man, Fenris. Not because of what you are, but who you are. I only regret that we had not met before this.
[He took another drink, looking him over, and then looked away.]
But yes, you are an attractive man. Just dangerous enough to make me cautious of pointing that out, as well.
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I have done very little that is remarkable. Everything I have achieved, I have done so through others.
[First the Fog Warriors, then Hawke. He couldn't face his demons alone, ultimately, he still needed the crutch of someone else. Living by his own actions was harder than he'd anticipated. ]
You wish to speak of being remarkable, you should look inward. You have stood up to people who would likely kill you for your ideals. You plan to return, to take out the rot and make it a better place. I may believe you are idealistic in your efforts, but it does not mean I do not admire you for them.
[A pause, a half-smile. ]
Nor would I harm you for paying me compliments. Though I am sure there are others far more deserving of your attentions than I. You are an attractive man yourself, Dorian, you must have them lined up at your door.
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Ah, the tales I could tell. But I am not one to speak of them, but you might assume that. The truth is that there were men that I favored, but the only lines at my door were women that my father wanted to marry me off to, like I was a piece of prize livestock.
My father saw to that.
[He takes a drink. The words were spoken candidly, with a tone of almost amusement, a mask for his own voice to hide the deep sorrow that, in some ways, he was a mere pawn.]
But I suppose we would not be products of the Imperium if we were not fractured in some way. Better to be a bit broken than rotting out from the inside, like most Magisters.
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[He scoffs, downing his own drink, feeling the wine warm his veins. ]
True enough. As damaged as I am, I am glad I am not part of the mess that is most of the Imperium.
[He pauses, and gives a self-deprecating laugh. ]
If someone were to tell me I would find a kindred spirit in a Tevinter mage, I would have likely laughed in their faces. And yet, here you are.
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I am aware that I am an...odd man by their standards, putting it lightly. I wouldn't be a pariah if I were a typical Altus.
[And then he got to the punch line of his joke.]
So you needn't fault yourself if you don't find me completely repulsive. I wouldn't fear for becoming suddenly fond of Magisters, were I you.
[And he took another drink, smirking.]
If anything, it says you know how to keep good company.
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[It was gently said, quietly. It wasn't a fear of becoming fond of Magisters, no, it was a fear of becoming fond of anyone at all. Isabela, Vanadi, they had been casual, just sex. It made things easier, it let him feel like he had some control over a romantic entanglement. A control Danarius wrenched from him often, there he had thought there were true feelings, true affection, they turned out to be lies. Manipulation. Never again, he had sworn.
But...]
Honestly, not many seek mine out. I am not exactly...sociable.
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I suppose I make up for that. Though, the quiet suits me just as well. Back in Skyhold, and even in Tevinter, I spent most of my time surrounded by books. I'm certain I might not look it, but...I always did care for books more than other people. Books are more straightforward, and they rarely gossip about you, or tell you that you're lacking.
[He smiled a bit.
He never needed to feign that he was more interested in his studies than in women.]
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I have not become as comfortable with them, yet. I am still learning how to read them at all. But I can see why they would be a comfort to you. They are an escape.
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That is not a fault, Fenris! Here, why don't we make an agreement- I'll tutor you. I have some experience in that, and it would give me an excuse to see you more often, if you'd like.
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I- Thank you, that is good of you. I would like that.
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You'll be keeping up with Varric's novels in no time, Fenris.
[He said it, assuming that Fenris would want to read what their mutual friend had to say.]
Adventures, romance, I've always thought it admirable that he could craft a story. My own writings were considerably more scholarly. I suppose I would only fail at writing romance, I'm not even entirely certain what it feels like.
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Is that a reward or a punishment?
[His smile softens, a little.]
You are not alone in that endeavour. It can be...frightening, to let someone get that close.
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[It's a protest, to keep up his facade, and then he takes a drink, settling for trying to reach for honesty.]
There was...things are different, in Tevinter, you understand. Men fall into each others beds without much of a second thought. But...anything more than that is something that no sane man would allow himself to hope for.
I'm not certain I will ever find it, or anything like it.
no subject
[Said with no small amount of disdain. He looks at his wine again, considers, and takes a drink. If they're going to be honest. ]
None of my dalliances have ever had any real feeling to them. It was just physical. Not just with Isabela, but with an elf I met in the Initiative, also. He and I had...similar backgrounds, but even then I never let myself feel. It's dangerous.
no subject
[He looks down at his drink.]
I never did. Perhaps it's for the best, live my life behind my walls.
[And then he turns to Fenris, and he chuckles softly.]
If ever you want for company, nothing more- just intimacy, you need only ask. I assure you, you will not find me lacking.
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At his offer, Fenris gives a soft chuckle, not believing it at first. He has grown to like Dorian, for he is nothing like the Tevinter mages Fenris knows. Perhaps that's why Fenris wrote the other man off as out of his league a while ago. Dorian is indefinitely a better person than he is, in many different ways. ]
There is no need to tease me, you know.
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Likely that Fenris didn't know how beautiful he was, or if he did, he wrote himself off for some other reason. It was curious.
They were both broken men, but perhaps their cracks and flaws matched, in some way. Perhaps the fissures in their hearts were alike enough to be understanding, but different enough that they could stand together, somehow.]
Trust me, were I to tease you, it would be considerably more direct. Perhaps I would say something like I do wonder if the rest of you is as impressive as the glimpses of skin I can see. Or, perhaps I might give you a challenging smirk and say that I can find better uses for my lips than just giving useless offers.
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Oh? And what uses might those be?
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Now that...you'll have to find a way to convince me to come back to your room. Perhaps a promise of company, and the hint of more, and I can show you.
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He leans in a little closer, to speak quietly into Dorian's ear. ]
Then show me.
[And, without giving Dorian the chance to reply, he heads off in the direction of his room, leaving the choice to follow him or not entirely up to the mage.]
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Dorian didn't waste much time- he threw back his whiskey and followed, not too closely, but enough that he was able to pick up the pace when they neared his room, and Dorian was able to follow him inside.
He closed the door behind them, and locked it.]
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And here you are.
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And there was the mention of pain. He was unsure if he could actually hurt him with a mere touch, so he resolved to be cautious until he was given words otherwise. He reached out, almost reverent, and gently brushed an errant strand of hair out of Fenris's face.]
I make an effort not to disappoint.
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I am not certain you are capable of such a thing.
[He doesn't allow himself the hesitation, the chance to assess the swirling pool of emotion in his chest. Instead, he leans up, almost on his tip toes to press a kiss against Dorian's lips. ]
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It would have been simple enough to charm his way into someone's bed, to get a night off the streets in exchange for letting someone use his body for a few hours. But in the end, it boiled down to that he had too much pride.
And so he had been alone.
He makes a sound when Fenris kisses him, he can smell the lyrium etched into his skin, and that mixes with the taste of alcohol on his lips into something almost intoxicating. Dorian puts a hand at the back of Fenris's head, parting his lips a bit as he pressed against him, kissing him with only half of the passion he felt, and only a quarter of what he could manage if he tried.
Fenris wasn't delicate, no, but nor was he a toy to be used up and cast aside.]
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