III. SEMI-CLOSED.

[liberalum]

WHO: Dorian Pavus and the continued adventures of less dashing people.
WHAT: After briefly reuniting with his father, Dorian returns to Skyhold to navigate the current local turmoil and not have feelings where anyone can see.
WHEN: The latter half of Haring.
WHERE: Skyhold.
NOTES: This is a catch-all for pre-planned threads, rather than open prompts. PM or plurk me if you'd like to do something!

Comments

[liberalum]

This first part gets a sketch of a smile, but no comment. How seriously he takes the Inquisition is practically embarrassing and doesn't warrant closer analysis, but there's no denying simple truths. The things he does, and the friends he's made.

"I was staying with someone when he sent people for me," he confesses, a little further. "There was a scuffle, people died. What friends I had left in Tevinter, well, they don't want to get on the sharper end of the Pavus dynasty now that there's blood on the ground. But I still managed a level of comfort before Felix contacted me with what his father was doing in Redcliffe, with the southern mages, the Venatori, all that rot. I gave up everything I had to follow."

He tips his glass, dismissive of his own words. "I don't expect to be played even the smallest violin. People show up penniless at the gates of Skyhold every day. But it can, occasionally, begin to chafe when only a scattered handful of people seem to remember that about me, and to hear it from him, like I'm going through yet another phase. And he thinks he knows me."

[fleurdesel]

His glass that needs refilling, Adelaide does so without comment- they would be down here for some time and if nothing else? This is something worth drinking over. Family and the many ways in which they could disappoint you; there is no greater cause to drink than perhaps heartbreak. There may be shades of it in this for Dorian but it is not hers to pry.

He tries. He tries harder for all that he is flippant; whether or not most notice that or not she can't say. But Adelaide does. It is the one reason she was comfortable enough to sit with him, speak with him. To take his word and his regard seriously in matters with the Council. "People are selfish with their empathy, this age. They save it for those they approve of rather than those that might be strange to them but equally deserving."

Like a Tevinter Altus, estranged from his homeland and his family, fighting to see a better world.

"Is that not common?" She wouldn't know- mages are taken from their families here. Other than letters she has not seen her family, heard of them, or disappointed them since she was a child. "Assuming they know you, and that they know best."

[liberalum]

"Probably."

This comes out a little flat and grudging, gently tipping wine glass subtle to watch the fluid within paint the sides and fade away again. "I appreciate your listening. I know if Felix were feeling better than he is, he'd be the one pouring wine and reminding me that this fresh stupidity is only more of the same. We've seen one another at our personal worsts, after all. Even if his worst is the sort that nets easy sympathy."

That's the sort of joke that only works if you've been around Felix any length of time. He isn't one to milk for sympathy, or attention of any kind. Dorian drains his glass a mouthful of wine.

[fleurdesel]

"You've heard my unfortunate and troubled past. It is only fair." Though hers had been less lasting in stabs that build up over time to twist a man into knots with his own family and more singularly traumatic event- the two weren't equivalent. Different shades of pain that can't be soothed with magic. Seeing his father, then, must have been like wrenching the stitches from a slow mending wound.

"...He's well enough for you to visit and drink with him, if you prefer. Though not to the usual excess." With the relatively recent collapse yet lingering she cannot recommend much by the way of wine.