hallarider | running by your side

running by your side

[for

pavus_redemit]

It was never difficult to find Dorian. Sometimes, it felt as though the Tevinter mage made a point of making himself as accessible as possible, being out in the open for everyone to see. It was a good idea when Bramen truly thought about it, something to dispel the idea of a cloaked magister working away in secret, researching blood magic and crafting secret potions to control minds - all rumours the Inquisitor had heard in passing about his lover. Thoughts that made Dorian chuckle and roll his eyes, easily dismissing their jeers and accusations. That was one of the things Bramen loved most about him.

Not a day passed that Bramen didn't feel as though there was something new he'd come to appreciate and adore something about Dorian. Perhaps it was foolish, maybe it was a bit silly but he was a foolish and silly elf at times. Dorian often made him feel as such, in the best way possible. That was why Bramen wanted to show appreciation for the man, something to show he cared. He cared, that he listened. Oh, how he listened to the tales the mage had, captivated by the history of Tevinter. There was so much in Dorian's own culture that had parallels within Bramen's own, it was fascinating to uncover. Every time they spoke, he learned a little more.

But one story had stuck with the elf for a long time now. One story he recalled so vividly as he now ascended the stairs towards the library, holding something wrapped in cloth in his hands. He remembered stargazing with the mage, curled up together in his room as they watched stars falling from the sky. He recalled Dorian's words, the feeling of his warm body in the cool night air - and that's why he had this now. He clutched that cloth tightly, reaching the top of the stairs as he made his way over to Dorian's little nook, smiling warmly and fondly as he looked over to the chair his lover so often made himself at home in. He wasn't in that chair now but he was close by, pulling a few books off the shelf - a little evening reading no doubt.

Bramen kept that cloth clutched close, a tender look in his eyes as he watched Dorian for a moment more.

"A bit of light reading?" he asked, letting his mouth crack into a smile. No doubt some of those books were for the morning - or merely to reference a page or two. Though Dorian often got sucked in to more than a few pages. He was always thirsty for knowledge.

Hopefully what was wrapped up in this cloth would fascinate him all the same.

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Of course Bramen wouldn't want anything in return. His lover was selfless to a fault sometimes. Dorian huffed a little laugh against his lips, gave him another quick peck then slipped away from his arms to pick up the staff.

"The blade will add weight which will make it easier to control but they have to get the balance just right," he said as he tested it in his hands. "A skull on the top should provide some balance but there must be good sturdy grips. Sweaty hands would slide all over this. It would be terribly embarrassing to be casting and then whoops, off it goes flying over the heads of our enemies."

Honestly, he was like a little child now, delighted with the gift. He practically radiated excitement.

Bramen's smile remained strong even as Dorian pulled away, pleased that the man was so delighted by it. It was far from perfect, far from finished but with the way Dorian was acting, it was as though the man had never received a gift in his life. He was more than content to watch Dorian marvel at it, glad that the work Dagna and Harritt had put into Bramen's idea was going over so well.

He chuckled a little at Dorian's description, stepping closer to touch his hand to his lover's arm, giving it a light squeeze. "I promise we'll have something there soon," a rogue knew the importance of a good grip, after all, "Once it's done, you'll be the first to test it out. Make certain it doesn't slip anywhere."

It was endearing to see the man like this, so full of joy and elation. "I was thinking a dragon-slaying rune might be good for it... Or a cleansing rune, to push back the demons, keep them at bay for me when I'm closing up the rifts."

"I would think cleansing is more suited for me," he said with a grin for Bramen. "Give Bull the dragon slaying one. He would be tickled by that."

His friendship with the Qunari was entirely unexpected but the man was oddly endearing. He quite enjoyed how his father would have hated it as well. That was a nice bonus.

"It's a wonderful work of art, darling." He put it back in Bramen's hands. "I know you'll have them make me something perfect. And no matter what you say I'm going to find a way to repay you for this."

Dorian was the work of art. The staff was simply a stroke of luck. It still warmed the elf inside, feeling it well up in his chest. A cleansing rune would suit his lover fine, a light in the dark, a spark of brilliance to push back temptation. He took the staff back, leaning in to kiss his partner's cheek before he began to wrap it once again, looking fondly at Dorian all over again.

"No, consider this payback for that carver antler you got for me," he beamed, pleased to have finally found something to match the significance found there. He kept that antler proudly on display in his room, upon his writing desk. Something he could gaze upon whenever he was bogged down with whatever work the Inquisition needed, letters and requests, the boring side of leadership. That antler brought him so many fond memories - and fond feelings of the man who'd given it to him. Now Dorian would have something similar, a reminder of Bramen's affections.

"Now I'd say we're even."

He laughed warmly, "Fine. We're even but I still plan to ravish you tonight when we're in bed. You can't deny me that pleasure."

What a treasure he found in his lover. Even the horrid weather of the south couldn't dampen his spirits. As long as the south had Bramen Dorian was content, more than content to stay here with him.

"Unless you have some objections to that?"

"I could never object to that," Bramen laughed, finishing the wrap on the staff. Of course he wouldn't object to a night with his lover, especially when the man was frisky. Though, he enjoyed any night with the man, really. He gave the staff a pat and tilted his head a little, the idea of retiring early for the night now dancing in his head. Hardly a thought he'd ever reject.

"I need to bring this back to the undercroft... But why don't you head up to my chambers, wait for me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows a little. "Bring a book along, we could study together for a while..." Amongst so many other things in that big bed of his. Dorian was never short of ideas there.

"Study. Yes. That's what we do when we're alone together." Dorian chuckled at the suggestion but he was one hundred percent behind it. "I will wait for you there with a book from my private collection."

He had a few books that he kept away from everyone in Skyhold. He didn't need to since everything was in Tevene and very few people could read it or speak it but they were special to him. No southern apostate or Chantry hen was getting their hands on them.

"Don't take too long, darling." He trailed his fingers down Bramen's arm and brushed his hand as he drew them away. "I do so enjoy studying together."

As Dorian drew away, Bramen moved closer to steal another kiss from his lover. Simply a short one, something soft before he too pulled back. There would be time for something more intimate soon enough, when they were behind closed doors. Especially if it involved one of Dorian's private books. He had a whole assortment of things, things only Bramen was privy to.

Holding the staff close again, he made his way towards the stairs, giving Dorian a short glance over his shoulder. "I'll see you soon," it was a promise and an invitation, one he would certainly make good on. With that, however, Bramen made his way down the stairs and proceeded towards the main hall. It wouldn't take him long to return this - but he'd take his time. Let Dorian get settled before his arrival.

Dorian tilted his head to the side his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched his lover walk away. It was a fantastic view. Perhaps later he'd get his teeth into that lovely ass walking away from him.

Once Bramen was out of few Dorian went straight to his room. Many of his things were in Bramen's room now as he was practically living there with him. His private books were here, taking up room in Bramen's bookshelves. His lover wasn't using the space very well anyway. Dorian was happy to fill them up.

What he picked from the shelves was a rather naughty collection of myths and poetry from ancient Tevinter. He shrugged out of the upper half of his robes and took off his boots. Now comfortable he took the book with him and settled on the bed. He could read while he waited.

Bramen's bookshelves were hardly things he used. When he'd first arrived, they'd been filled with Chantry propaganda as Dorian had called it and the moment the man started spending more time here, he'd promptly cleared out what he deemed filth. It was largely just Dorian's books now along with a few written by Varric and several choice volumes of Genitivi's work - mainly the Chantry scholar's writings on the Fade and magic, things that caught Bramen's eye. Of all the Chantry writings, Dorian seemed to hold Genitivi's with esteem. All the more reason Bramen was pleased to keep them within the man's reach here in his bedchambers.

Though it was true - much of Bramen's room was being taken over by Dorian's own belongings. Though the man had arrived with nothing at all in the South, being part of the Inquisition gave him time to amass all sorts of things. All of his books, trinkets shaped like skulls and dragons, a number of robes and formal wear that all hung next to Bramen's own attire - among a number of other things he kept tucked away from view. Vials of oil, a blindfold, bits of rope - most things that Bramen had admitted to being hesitant about using, shying away from the idea of spicing things up a little more. Maybe tonight though. Maybe.

Bramen didn't waste time in the undercroft though, not with thoughts of Dorian in mind. He could already envision his lover laying their in his bed- their bed, half undressed, the fur blankets cushioned behind him. He could already see that inviting look on Dorian's face, the way the man would urge him to come closer. He kept his chat with Dagna brief, telling her Dorian's reaction to the staff - the idea made her clap her hands, quite eager to see just what the mage could do with it once it was done. He promsied she'd be the first to see him test it out and then bid her and Harritt a farewell. He returned to the main hall and made his way up towards his chambers.

Just as the herald entered his room and began to climb the stairs, a loud caw-! came from the window. One of Leliana's ravens swooped into the room, flying over towards the bed with a letter in its beak. The bird perched down on the headboard, shaking its feathers out as it cawed again, trying to get Dorian's attention. It certainly had Bramen's, the elf standing at the stairs and staring over to the bird. It made almost a purring sound, dropping the letter onto the bed next to Dorian, the red-eyed bird now staring at Dorian, waiting for the mage to accept it.

Bramen moved closer to the bed, clearing his throat a little before holding out his arm for the bird. "Expecting a letter?" he asked, canting his head a little. The bird saw Bramen's arm and took it as a sign to move, jumping and flapping over to the elf, perching there instead. The rogue gave the raven a light scratch under its beak, smoothing the feathers on its chest and eliciting another almost purr from the creature.

After spending all his days listening to those birds cawing constantly Dorian was an expert at ignoring them. So, the bird at the end of the bed was easy to tune out and pretend it didn't exist.

"No," he said calmly when Bramen appeared. "And I'm not dealing with it now. I have plans. Plans that include you. Send that winged beast away."

Dorian would deal with the letter after he had his time with Bramen. They made plans and he refused to let the bird interfere as they so often did when he had been romancing Bramen in the library. Stupid feathered rats except they were terribly intelligent and Dorian wanted to test that one day.

The raven snapped at Dorian, letting out a defiant caw as it gripped Bramen's arm, spreading its wings in a threatening display. Leliana's pets knew when they were being ignored - and this one in particular didn't much care for it. Bramen tried to stroke the bird's feathers, smoothing them down and getting it to settle, a chortle coming from its throat.

"It looks like it has a Tevinter seal on it," the elf said, moving closer to the bed before reaching down to pick up the letter. He examined the wax seal - it was most certainly something from the Imperium, the seal far too elaborate for anything in the south - even something from Orlais. The bird cawed again and ruffled its feathers, seemingly determined not to go anywhere until Dorian accepted what the beast had brought.

"Does it look like a dragon eating its own tail or does it look like someone tried to merge dwarven art with Tevinter styling?" he asked, still refusing to look up from his book.

The seal would determine what his response would be. If it was a letter from his father he would kick it off the bed and ignore it until tomorrow morning. He was in a good mood and he didn't want his father to ruin it.

However, if it was from Mae he would be willing to read it. She usually had good news for him. She was worth delaying his plans with Bramen for.

His father could rot in a pit.

Bramen examined the letter closely, brow knitting a little as he looked at the seal. "I'm not sure what Dwarven art mixed with Tevinter styling looks like... But it's not a dragon eating anything," he said, offering the letter to his lover. The raven seemed content with that and gave another chortle from its throat, spreading its wings and taking flight again - a single flap and it was out the balcony, returning to its roost. The bird trusted Bramen would get the man to read whatever letter it was, its duty done for the time being.

With the letter in Dorian's hands, Bramen opted to sit at the foot of the bed - unbuckling his boots and slipping them off. "Who is it from?"

"Then it's not my father." Dorian put his book down, sat up and took the letter from Bramen. "As long as it isn't from him, I'm interested to read it."

He broke the seal with a finger, flipped the letter open and read the neat, crisp lines of Tevene.

"It's from Maevaris Tilani. You should remember her. She's helped us before with information. She was also married to Varric's cousin for a time," he mumbled a bit while he read, trying to speak common while reading Tevene was a somewhat difficult task. "Wonderful woman. I'm terribly fond of her though she's convinced the south will be the death of me as I'm too delicate and pampered."

With his boots off, Bramen chose to unbutton the high neck of his shirt along with the buttons that went down it. Enough to open it up, loosen the form-fitted outfit. It was far from what he'd prefer to wear on a daily basis but the Inquisitor needed to dress accordingly. He'd grown used to it over time at least. He listened intently to what Dorian had to say, glad to know the letter wasn't from the man's father - though he had a feeling if it was, the mage would've simply crumpled it up the moment it reached his hands.

The name he'd mentioned sound familiar though. Maevaris Tilani. he did recall her being their connection in Tevinter, recommended by Dorian himself. He didn't know much about the woman but assisting her had proven beneficial to the Inquisition on more than one occasion now. The rogue moved closer to Dorian, choosing to lay at the man's side. He propped himself up on one arm, allowing for the other to drape across Dorian's stomach, smiling as the name slowly clicked in his mind.

"The one who called you a hothouse orchid?" he smiled, tone almost teasing. Ignoring the fact that Bramen had needed to ask what exactly a hothouse was originally.

"Yes, that one." He rolled his eyes at that. Of course that was the thing Bramen remembered. He was not so delicate and certainly did not need constant tending like those flowers did.

He ran a hand through Bramen's hair now that his lover was close enough to touch. "She says there's talk among the slaves and lower classes about you. You're becoming a bit of a hero to them. And apparently so am I..."

Dorian trailed off for a moment while he considered that little piece of information. "Huh. My pariah status means I'm the 'good magister' trying to help the people by abandoning the usual trappings and fighting against the upper class."

Maybe Dorian didn't need to be tended to like a delicate flower but that didn't mean the man would reject the attention. Bramen leaned into his lower's touch and exhaled a bit, moving to rest his head against Dorian's chest. He kept his eyes off the letter though, closing them instead as his lover read, idly stroking along the man's side.

"It's good they're talking about you," he smiled, turning his head a bit to nuzzle into Dorian's side, "Showing the world what a Tevinter mage can do, what a man from Tevinter should do." Dorian defied convention, he was far and away from the vision many had of the magisters in the Imperium. Rejecting blood magic, standing for what was just, doing the right thing. More men needed to be like Dorian.

"I'm guessing many slaves and lower class so happen to be elves..." he murmured that a little softer, face still pressed against his partner. "That part's something even the humans seem to chatter about. I suppose long ears and Vallaslin are things that draw attention though."

"Most are elves. The vast majority." Dorian used to find slavery acceptable, beneficial in some cases. Now, it always brought up a slick sense of dread in his stomach. It was one more thing he had to fix in his homeland. "I'm not surprised they're inspired by you but me? That's... well, flattering but not what I was expecting."

He imagined he'd end up like his ancestor, the traitor who was executed. The reason his father was so obsessed with Pavus being a proper Tevinter house again. If the lower classes were supporting him, venerating him, it would cause quite a stir among the Altus and Magisters.

"You draw attention because you're handsome, darling." He patted Bramen's shoulder, hoping to placate what sounded like a wounded ego to Dorian. "I understand exactly how the masses feel as they gaze adoringly at you."

He drew attention because he was an elf. There wasn't any two ways about it. It wasn't worth dwelling over though, just another thing to push into the back of his mind. Some things couldn't easily be changed and that as all right. He was happy for Dorian at the very least, the man bringing attention in his homeland, drawing the eyes of so many. He opened his eyes, smiling a bit as he looked up at Dorian.

"If anyone is being stared at for being handsome, it's you," he said with a short laugh, hand trailing over and across Dorian's stomach. "I'm glad you're causing a stir back in your homeland - you aren't afraid to do the right thing." He traced small, idle patterns along Dorian's stomach, breathing out as he shifted a little, turning his head to kiss at the mage's jaw.

"You're the one who stood up when nobody else would."

"I ran quite far," he muttered as he set aside the letter. He could read it again later and focus on the details then. Right now, he had his lover lavishing attention on him and he needed a minute to think. "I could have stayed and fought from Tevinter. My father was quite a large threat, yes, but perhaps I could've done more."

Of course, if he had stayed he wouldn't have met Bramen. He wouldn't have joined the Inquisition. He wouldn't have fallen in love with the handsome elf lying beside him now.

"But I don't regret leaving as I did. The south is generally horrible and backwards but there is one bright spot." He leaned down and kissed his love gently.

Craning his neck up, Bramen returned Dorian's kiss, breaking away in order to nestle his head against the mage's shoulder, nuzzling against his throat. "You could have stayed in Tevinter... But the Venatori would've tried to find a way to silence you," despite knowing so little about his lover's homeland, it didn't take much to determine what the Venatori would've done to him. It wasn't as though Dorian Pavus was an unknown mage, his family had rank and power. "Even with your father's support..." he murmured that a bit quieter, exhaling.

"You came here for a reason. You stayed for a reason," Bramen clutched his hand a bit tighter against the leather of Dorian's top, closing his eyes again. "What does Maevaris think of it?" The woman cared enough to write, evidently.

His father would have found a way to silence him once his first attempt failed and he found a better way to get what he wanted. Dorian didn't bring that up. It wasn't pleasant to talk about and he wanted to keep things pleasant.

"Mae finds it delightful but dangerous. Some who support you and support me have been threatened. The lower classes are outright killed, not that the Magisterium is concerned with such things." There was a bit of anger in his voice at that and guilt as well. He doesn't want to be the reason anyone gets killed. It's a horrible feeling.

He wrapped an arm around Bramen's shoulders and held him closer to him. His lover comforted him simply with his presence at his side. "I might have to find a way to help."

He knew there were places his supporters would be killed It was a terrible feeling, one that was often difficult to stomach - but they were fighting a war. That was the nature of war, people died. He'd killed enough by his own hand, even before he became the herald. Long before the conclave, he knew the consequences of it all.

"Is there any way to get word out? Tell the lower class in Tevinter that they can seek refuge here in Skyhold? That they can support the Inquisition?" he asked, though a part of him doubted it would be fruitful. If word got out that people from the Imperium were fleeing to aid the Inquisition, action would be taken. Strong as the Inquisition's forces were, there wasn't enough to take on the entire Imperium and Corypheus' forces at once.

"You'll have slave hunters attacking every elf they see in Inquisition uniforms to see if they're an escaped slave," he warned. "It's legal for slave owners to send hunters after any slave and recapture them in any land even the free ones."

It was another policy that Dorian didn't like. It wasn't something that could easily be changed either. He brushed his fingers up and down the side of Bramen's arm as he thought about it.

"You could attempt to contact the Liberators. They're a group, very secretive, within Tevinter society that smuggles slaves to free countries. They're quite hated by much of the Magisters."

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