faderift | VII. CLOSED.

How long do y'think it would take Cullen to notice, should we hang it in his office instead?

[ Having your picture painted is much less excruciating when you've someone to talk to, turns out, especially when that person isn't your family. The last time Dorian had to sit for such a thing, he'd been restlessly adolescent, and counting the minutes while imagining all the ways he might accidentally splash a red vintage on it first chance he gets. Perhaps casually set it on fire, a spell gone wayward.

That sort of thing. But as far as he knows, there's still a painting of his father, his mother, and himself hanging untouched in some particularly dusty corner of the Qarinus estate.

He reaches to top up his glass. When he'd uncorked the bottle, the masked artiste had uttered something about it having been intended as a prop only, but Dorian had pretended not to understand his accent until the painter had decided against separating the Tevinter mage from his glass. ]

I only ask because he's famously continued to ignore the state of disrepair that room is perpetually in.

[ He's dressed finely, in scarlets and golds, mage robes of Tevinter make and fanfare. He is careful not to knock the drape of its hem, lest he get a paintbrush thrown at him. ]

Edited 2016-09-11 13:01 (UTC)

( a similar painting exists in the thevenet household, the knight-general standing solemn behind his seated wife, a much-younger benevenuta sat primly at her feet, not long before she'd gone to the circle; she hadn't minded it so much, but she'd been small to hold so still and it had taken f o r e v e r.

this, even if she isn't partaking of the prop wine besides occasionally stealing from dorian's ill-gotten glass, is a much superior experience. )

How very lowering, ( she says, reflectively, ) if he were to remove our portrait and still leave his ceiling.

( it's going to be an exceptional portrait, if she does say so herself. she might fade beside dorian in sleek nevarran grey, if not for bright, bright eyes and the strategic application of usually unworn jewels draped not only against her skin but into the elaborate style of oiled and artfully placed curls; orlais is precisely the correct place for her to kick up a notch the sort of dress sense that has sent sighs around skyhold about the likelihood of benevenuta contracting some sort of sternum-based cold-weather illness. )

[ Similarly, much of one shoulder and the length of his arm is exposed to the temperate climate of the room, freshly bronzed from getting any sun, for once. Dorian ha's a quiet laugh at that, because, it's probably exactly what would happen. They've selected wisely, in selecting Josie. She's polite, thoughtful, and so many people drift through her office every day that will certainly appreciate a lovely painting of two random Northern mages.

Not so random, if you ask Dorian, and who doesn't. ]

I'm not entirely certain why we say Skyhold is so defensible when it has as many holes in it as cheese from the Anderfels. Iron Bull's room has a draft, although I know the day I succeed in convincing him of this truth, he'll be out with something like-- I like it that way, puts hair on your chest, [ is not a bad effort at the qunari's manner of speaking. ]

Edited (renewed accounts mean last second icon changes) 2016-09-15 12:30 (UTC)

[ It's beginning to cool again in the mornings, the sun lazier to rise, the air tasting of a slowly encroaching winter. Dorian is not thrilled about it, but at least up here, in direct sunlight, it can go ignored, in the same way his back is turned to the icy slopes of the mountains while he watches the training grounds beneath him where Iron Bull drills his men.

Dorian leans against the stone, elbows taking his weight while one ankles idles behind the other. His interest in the activities below is casual rather than fixed, but consistent, content, like he's contemplating going down there but has decided, for now, that he's happy to be out of the way.

Fond, perhaps. If you squint.

He isn't paying too much attention to those who approach. Most of the time, it's a scout or a recruit making his or her rounds rather than anyone of personal interest, but he does account for his periphery just in case. ]

Edited 2016-09-15 12:25 (UTC)

[ With how frequently the Inquisition flings its members, it's actually been a little while since Adelaide and Dorian have broken bread with one another, but it's enough of a habit that it settles in easily by the time the sun is setting. Adelaide retrieves the wine; Dorian has ordered the food in the form of a couple of slices of water crust pie, one of the better things to come out of Fereldan cuisine, if anything must.

With exception to one sigh as to underseasoned mutton, Dorian isn't complaining. He's been doing a marked less of that over the last few weeks, instead, given to quicker smiles, comfortable silences, a sunnier outlook. He might not even notice.

He even refills Adelaide's glass before his own. ]

[ It is a marked improvement in mood- one that hasn't gone unnoticed. Unremarked upon, certainly, as the precise reasoning hasn't made itself plain until recently and even then? The...failure of hers to keep her nose in her own business leading to her current strained relationship with Benevenuta has prevented Adelaide from delving too deep into assumption.

Now, however?

She is reasonably certain. At least enough to quirk a brow at his filling her glass first and ask, voice wry and fond- ]

Who are you and what have you done with Dorian?

[ He quirks a brow back at her, but charges his own glass without missing a beat. ]

What a ridiculous question, [ he says, light as a feather, as he sits back with his glass in hand. ] I'm radiantly myself at all times, as you well know.

[It's been... a time since he's run into Dorian. Not since Leliana was poisoned, really, and Anders had been a bit short with the other mage. Sure, there's always seeing each other around, but they haven't spoken. Which means that Anders should approach as if nothing's happened.]

Mm. It looks a little violent down there.

Radiant, yes. But as of late you have been positively glowing, Do-Do.

[ Not that she is at all displeased- it is an excellent look for him, this ease. This joy. ]

Perhaps the impending apocalypse agrees with me. Or the summer -- no doubt I'll be back to my usual by the time the colder weather rolls in.

[ He's not about to help her out, after all, evasive as ever when it comes to matters of the heart. But he doesn't seem displeased by her observation. ]

You look as overworked as usual, I'm afraid.

[ Dorian can go either way on ignoring an issue; he is more likely, however, to comment at length on the shade of grey of the elephant in the room. The corners of his eyes wrinkle in a private sort of good humour when he tilts his head enough to see Anders' approach, so that's likely a good sign. ]

Perhaps we ought to suggest they brush up on their diplomacy in place of shield bashing.

Perhaps it is the company you have been keeping.

[ One person in particular. There's been no great strides in research, no particularly positive news on their shared interest to prompt this otherwise. ]

There are the requests for Cullen's attention, the Council, the applications for equipment, supplies, or coin for research that may or may not be beneficial to the Inquisition, trying to coax out more information from those time displaced Magisters, trying to learn more about the spell that locked them into place and re-purpose it- my list of things to do is ever growing. How you do as much as you do and still look so fit and hale? I will never know.

Mm. I don't know.

[He's got a small smile now.]

I'd put wagers on a good half of them having named their swords 'diplomacy.' And their boot knives 'kindness.' Or just their boots, but that tends to be more of a Templar thing and most don't have that look.

Of late, many of my duties have whittled down to poring over books in a comfortable chair and writing stern letters.

[ Their journeys into the Fade had done much to rekindle his academic side, not to mention Bull's fall scaring him, just a little, off the battle field. But not for long.

It's less an attempt at redirection from personal matters, and more a true interest when he says; ]

Allow me to unburden you. I've requested for my written research as to my developments around time magic to be sent to Skyhold -- it's taking a little time, considering it was left in the Imperium and there are measures in place to ensure it doesn't slip into the wrong hands, but it won't be long.

Have you spoken, also, to Magister Alexius?

And even if you lost that bet, they likely wouldn't practice politics whilst shirtless. A tragedy.

[ Except for Bull, who does everything shirtlessly, but Dorian does attempt not to be obvious.

And besides, that little jab didn't escape him. ]

Yes? It's a wonder how they manage to keep them so shiny.

Paperwork, practical research, and mentor wrangling.

[ More and more reasons to drink- and just as many to not. They are building something worthwhile here and she'll...take a break later. Eventually. That thought sustains her.

That and the odd spot of good company in her friends and peers. ]

Your notes would be invaluable. They truly managed something before the breach and rifts became such widespread phenomena- perhaps it's possible to replicate it without tearing holes in the veil. I have asked Magister Alexius but he does not think it can be done without blood magic.

[ And there, a little dark spot in Dorian's sunniness. He should have known better than to suggest it.

Old habits. ]

He was my mentor, you know. [ He lifts his wine glass, idly sloshing its contents. ] Dragged me out of an elven whorehouse in the lesser corners of Minrathous and sat me in front of my exams after I'd been expelled from just about every Circle in Tevinter. He would have been one of the better ones. We used to have talks...

[ He trails off there. Tevinter's redemption isn't dinner material, and rarely the concern of anyone who isn't from there. ]

The theory holds. Practice, well-- time has always been assumed to be an underlying constant in any equation. Changing it looks better on paper than it does in real world application. For instance, there are far more demons to contend with.

I may have noticed similar patterns when discussing the theory.

[ They might have been a force to be reckoned with, in Tevinter. It's a subtle gesture of comfort, almost invisible, a softness to her eyes as she taps their glasses together as though it's a toast rather than contemplation of more maudlin thoughts. ]

...would you be willing to work with him again? With what we have from the displaced magisters and perhaps tapping more into spirit energy rather than that offered by blood- it does run the risk of demons. But most spirit magic runs the risk of demons.

[ Shamefully, Dorian's hardly spoken a word to Gereon in all these months. The better part of a year, by now. It's not the longest he's angrily refused contact with his former mentor, but it probably bothers his son a little, and niggles at Dorian himself whenever he remembers the strange existence of such an illustrious academic genius.

But. ]

If there is a means of strengthening the Veil without negatively affecting its access to the spellwork--

[ He shrugs one mostly-bared shoulder. ]

I would try. If he, himself, is also willing. We didn't part on the best of terms, and I did allow his son to be consigned to the fate of a Grey Warden.

We made a token attempt to prevent it. To me he has been quite civil, all things considered. Felix lives. For a man that gave so much so that his son might have a life? It ought to be all that matters.

[ Northerners are on occasion contrary and overly complicated- more so than she is able to predict despite her best intentions. She grimaces at the reminder she ought to say or do something in apology to Benevenuta.

Now it is her turn to hide a darker look in her wine. ]

As his physician at the time, it is more on my shoulders than yours. For all that you allowed that oaf to carry me from the room.

[ That gets a small laugh out of Dorian, in spite of the subject matter; unapologetic, but low key. ]

Where there is life, there is possibility. He even has a woman, now.

[ That glittery-eyed pointy-eared forest princess he'd been a little rude to. It wasn't anyone's best hour, really. ]

Our last argument was the sort where I was attempting to tell a grievng father that he should allow his son to die in peace. It's complicated. But no doubt tempers have cooled down.

[ He will try. ]

Perhaps we ought to speak of more palatable things. Like that lovely raven-haired rifter you've cavorting with.

So I have heard. They are rumored to be positively saccharine.

[ Which is...after the illness Felix had? Good. She is glad for him to have that slice of life despite his new vocation. The somber mood lifts slightly, only to shift entirely at that next nudge of conversation.

She doesn't go pink but it is a terribly near thing. ]

Or perhaps we might discuss your broad shouldered Qunari, mm?

Pfaugh, ( very lightly, ) why should he have it fixed when he has you to keep warm beside him?

( it doesn't hurt, she's found, to discuss the loves of others; she'd wondered if it might, but no part of her begrudges dorian what he still has. it's terribly precious and so easy to lose - that she applies to others the same philosophies as she does herself is often as not the cause of great disappointment in them, but in this it is a simple thing. take a little joy where you might. it might not be there, tomorrow.

she'd never rather he not have joy, only because she's had sorrow. )

And,

( scrutinizing dorian closely, )

I don't believe it has.

Oh, is that how it is?

[ --playfully, anyway. 'Your' has such a nice ring to it. The mood is lifted, and Adelaide may note her assumptions to be correct as that same sparkle makes a return despite an attempt at irony with the raising of one eyebrow.

That touch of apprehension, however, is certainly true. ]

You've caught me, then. I'd appreciate it if that could be kept somewhat discreet -- alongside my affection for Fereldan ales, you know.

[ Admittedly, Dorian has refrained from bringing it up around Benevenuta, given givens. Being already predisposed towards discretion beyond what can't be avoided when they share a room, it's been easy enough.

But now that it's out there-- ]

There, you see. Empirical proof.

[ He is forever calling Bull ridiculous. The qunari never bats an eyelash. There's a pause, while they sit still and proper for the painting, before Dorian is moved to say, quietly-- ]

I'd attempted to end it.

VII. CLOSED.

halamshiral, high quarter. benevenuta thevenet.

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the battlements. anders.

a private corner of the tavern. adelaide.

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