flashback log: bull and dorian WHO: Dorian Pavus + The Iron Bull WHEN: Flashback to the Trespasser DLC — two to three years after the last flashback log WHERE: The Winter Palace, Halamshiral, Orlais WHAT: Another flashback! While reuniting with Bull after a long absence, Dorian learns that his father is dead, and that he's heir to the now-empty seat in the Magisterium. WARNINGS: N/A
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For a year after Corypheus's defeat, Dorian stayed with the Inquisition. There was work to be done, people to save. They traveled south to the Frostback Basin and made allies with the Avvar. They traveled into the Deep Roads and uncovered the long-unknown source of lyrium — information that could alter everything they knew about the world. Dorian remained at the Inquisitor's side for as long as he could.
He remained at Bull's side for as long as he could.
But he couldn't stay forever. For a year after that, Dorian served as liaison between Tevinter and the Inquisition. He was gone for months at a time, protecting the Inquisition's interests in Tevinter and trying to reach political agreements. He wrote often, but distance was difficult for him and Bull. They weren't good at being physically apart, they weren't good at going long stretches without speaking.
Dorian wrote letters that were for only for Bull, private musings and desires in his elegant handwriting. It wasn't the same as being together. Whenever Dorian returned to Skyhold, he threw himself at Bull, sleeping at his side and finding excuses to sleep late in the mornings.
Prior the Exalted Council, Dorian had been gone for nearly four months. He had work to do in order to represent Tevinter's interests, he had a purpose through days of negotiations. The nights, however, were another story.
He spent them in his guest quarters with the Iron Bull, making up for lost time. The first morning, Bull awoke to Dorian wrapped around him, sleeping with his head on Bull's chest while he lightly snored. They'd missed the scheduled breakfast, but didn't care. The second morning, however, Dorian wasn't in bed at all.
A short time earlier, there'd been a knock loud enough to wake them both, but Dorian had kissed Bull and patted his chest and told him to go back to sleep. He'd learned from their mistake the day before, and ordered breakfast to be brought up to them. Being somewhat important did have its benefits.
Now, Dorian was at the window, wrapped in his embroidered silk robe and gazing out at the courtyard. The tray of food was on a nearby table, untouched and still covered. Dorian hadn't woken Bull in order to eat.
When he was with Dorian, Bull slept like the fucking dead. There wasn’t a care in the world, thanks to actually getting to wrap his arms around his lover and be in relative peace. These days, that was rare enough for them that he took advantage of it the best he could.
During the days, it was easy for him to find things to do. Train people, befriend servants, hang out with the Chargers in the tavern, catch up with Sera.. Dorian was busy, and Bull knew well enough to stay out of the way and let talks happen. He hated politics enough that his fill came from letting Dorian rant before leaving the rest of it at the door, each night. And now, they’d been away from each other for months and he was having a hard time letting Dorian out of the bed to go do work that needed to be done.
But he did. And then when he got his lover back, he was all too happy to make it worth it for both of them.
He woke slowly, head turning as soon as he realized he wasn’t covered in a Dorian shaped blanket, and spotted him at the window. He was torn between patting the bed and calling Dorian to come back, and getting up himself - and in the end it was his hungry stomach and the smell of breakfast that pulled him out of bed. Walking behind Dorian, naked as the day he was born, he stopped behind his lover and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his shoulder. “Here I figured you wouldn’t have enough of me for at least a week. Already worn out and not ready for seconds- thirds, Kadan?”
Dorian usually had one of two reactions when Bull was affectionate. The first was to react like a cat dipped in water, tensing up and squirming under the attention while making some kind of protest that simultaneously invited more. The second was to melt against him, to snuggle up against him like a needy cat starved for pets, pressing his body close and welcoming more of his touch.
Now, Dorian had no response at all.
His voice was hollow when he spoke. "My father is dead."
Bull stopped mid-kiss, freezing in place with that kind of greeting. Really, he’d expected the melting thing, and uh, that was a disappointment. Not that he could blame Dorian, Bull may not have gotten the whole parental thing, but he knew the history there, and he knew how other people typically felt about their own parents.
But There wasn’t a part of him that wouldn’t have shoved Halward Pavus off of a cliff, for what he’d done to Dorian. Still, Bull had his manners and knew it was better not to speak ill of the dead, so he just leaned away slightly and gave Dorian his personal space back. “Well. Shit. That what the knock was this morning?”
Dorian took a steadying breath when he realized that his eyes were starting to sting with tears. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat. He made a vague gesture toward the tray on the table. "They were thoughtful enough to bring me a letter with our breakfast."
With the speed at which news traveled from Tevinter to Skyhold, and from Skyhold to the Winter Palace, Halward Pavus had been dead for some time, and Dorian hadn't known.
"Assassinated, I believe, though the letter doesn't specify," he said, his tone clipped. He was overly dismissive when he was upset.
Well, fuck, now the nug bacon was tainted. Of course they’d tainted the damn breakfast with this kind of news. Bull sighed and shifted foot to foot, making no move to cover himself but letting Dorian alone for right now. Every part of him itched to pull his lover in for a hug and squeeze, but he knew there was at least half a chance Dorian didn’t want comfort right now. That comfort might make him feel weak over a man he deserved better from.
“You saw him a few times when you were back home. Was he making enemies?” It was easier to try and figure out the whys than offer empty words of sympathies, and neither of them were fond of making a situation even more awkward.
Dorian appreciated the question. It gave him something to think about rather than a chance to succumb to whatever feelings he had. He wasn't certain what his feelings were, just yet. He never did reconcile with his father, not truly. Their relationship was still contentious, still complicated, but Dorian didn't think his father a wholly terrible man. He thought his father quite a good man, really. He'd had a good childhood, a happy childhood. Things hadn't turned sour until he'd been forced to bear the weight of family expectations.
"I have my theories," he said, glancing back at Bull briefly before he went to the table to take the cover off the tray of food. He didn't have a stomach for it, but it gave him something to do with his hands. "A simple 'It's Tevinter' being one of them. Assassinations, threats, they're somewhat common. I don't think my father was particularly offensive within the Magisterium, but …"
He trailed off, picking up a piece of bacon and then setting it back down. "It may have something to do with me. I — my ties to the Inquisition, my alliance with Mae and the fledgling Lucerni party … they wish to change things within Tevinter society and that's ruffled quite a few feathers. A connection to me may be a problem."
His brow furrowed. He knew that the pieces didn't quite line up. "However, the Lucerni party consists of a dozen young politicians who lack any sort of political skill. They're passionate, but they're loose cannons. And I …"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "My instinct tells me that one of them, and I do have one in mind, removed my father from power in order to leave his seat open for me."
Bull watched Dorian’s every movement, hands on his bare hips as he quietly surveyed the situation. So Dorian’s jackass dad was murdered - probably - and it likely took a few weeks to get the news out here. So Dorian was already feeling frustrated without answers, and guilty now on top of that. Bull didn’t like it.
Hell, he didn’t like anything out of his control. He could shrug things off for days, but damnit why didn’t things go according to plan. The plan was supposed to be a week of fucking before the Inquisitor arrived and they had to get down to business. This was… shit. Political intrigue and pure shit.
“Shit.” That last reveal had Bull throwing his arms up in the air and looking up at the ceiling in defeat. “Fuckin-” Bull cut off again, growling low. “He made you a fucking Magister? Thought that ship would’ve sailed a long damn time ago.”
Dorian ran his fingertips along the edge of the tray. "In the few times I'd spoken to my father, he'd never said anything about being his heir," he said quietly. "I thought he'd disinherited me, cut me off in the same way I pushed him away. I wasn't aware that he'd…"
He cursed under his breath, something ugly in Tevene, and he shoved at the nearest chair so hard that it crashed to the floor.
Bull couldn’t argue with that. The swearing part, anyway. Muttering under his breath, “Damn well wish he would’ve.” Bull huffed out a sigh and took a few steps forward, refusing to let Dorian keep his distance for much longer.
“Hey, c’mere.” Reaching out, he wrapped a big hand around Dorian’s shoulder and pulled him in, enveloping him in a warm, comforting hug. “Sorry about your dad.” He wasn’t, but he felt sorry for what Dorian was going through with this, even if Bull would’ve been more than happy to be the one to dispatch the Magister to the Fade and beyond.
Dorian didn't cry.
He came close. His breath hitched and he buried his face against Bull's bare chest. Tears pricked his eyes, but they didn't fall. His feelings about his father were complicated. He never got over being angry with him, never got over that feeling of betrayal, but up until that point, when Dorian was very much an adult, he'd felt like he'd had a good relationship with him. Yes, he'd lied to his father, and his father put too much pressure on him, but they hadn't been unhappy until Halward resorted to house arrest and blood magic to change his only son into something more acceptable.
He let Bull hold him for some time, but just as he settled into breathing in rhythm with Bull's heartbeat, he quietly pushed himself away.
"I have to go back to Tevinter," he said quietly, averting his eyes.
Bull was content just to hold Dorian, especially if it meant they could put off the conversation he knew was coming. After two years of this song and dance - and shit, had it been one hell of a song and dance - he knew Dorian. They still didn’t talk about shit as much as he’d like, but when you cracked Dorian’s outer shell, worming your way in proved to be easier than Bull had originally anticipated.
He so, so desperately wanted to tell him no, to argue, to fight against it. Sending Dorian back to that pit of snakes was the last thing he wanted to do, especially on the heels of Halward Pavus’ death.
But instead, he let out the breath he’d been holding for far too long, blowing hot air over Dorian’s head. “Then I’ll go with you. Don’t have much shit to pack. Krem can lead the Chargers."
Dorian carefully untangled himself from Bull. "No."
He had to turn away. He couldn't look up and see Bull's face. He couldn't. Looking at him meant losing his composure. He could handle his father's death, but he couldn't handle the consequences of it. If he looked at Bull now, he'd shatter into a million pieces.
So instead, he decided to go back to the tray of food, finally taking up a plate and examining what was brought other than bacon. Fruit, he could look at the fruit.
Bull growled again as Dorian pulled away. Not like he hadn’t expected that answer, but of fucking course his lover had to be stubborn anyway and couldn’t just let him do this. Bull, unfortunately, could be just as stubborn, and his lip set into a hard line as his eyebrow creased in as he watched Dorian closely.
“Yes.” He bit out the word, not giving a shit if Dorian was staring at a plate of blueberries or him. He was already mentally going over the conversation he’d have with Krem later today. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
"Because you can't," Dorian said, tossing up a hand in frustration. How did Bull not realize this? He didn't need a list of reasons. There was only one reason, and it was this:
"A Qunari, in Tevinter. You really think that you can simply abandon your men and travel with me to Tevinter to live with me as my lover." He felt his heart crack. Bull was willing to drop everything for him. There was no hesitation. Bull loved him that much.
Still wasn’t a good enough reason, as far as Bull was concerned. To any rational person, it was a damn good reason. He knew Adaar would try to talk him out of it later if given the opportunity, especially if Dorian sent her after him. “Yeah, I can. Krem can handle them, he’ll visit the border, we’ll keep in touch.” It wasn’t like Krem didn’t know this was a possibility already anyway, with how antsy Bull had been on more than one occasion over their months apart in recent days.
Still, he knew why Dorian was protesting. The ‘Vints weren’t exactly going to welcome him with open arms. “Shit, I don’t know, Dorian. We’ll… fuck. Tell everybody we got married. That I’m your slave. Something. I’m going.”
"Married? Are you insane?"
Dorian set the plate down, turning back to him — and that was a mistake. He'd made a point not to look at Bull for a reason, and there he was, naked and beautiful and angry and stubborn.
He couldn't give this man up.
"I have to leave," he said quietly. "As a Magister, I could … change things, I'll have more leverage, Mae will have someone to back her." He was listing reasons so he remembered why he needed to go. None of them seemed like good reasons right now.
He was insane. In no world would this be considered in his right mind, going to Tevinter, as a Qunari - “married” to a Magister or slave or none of those things. Hell, Bull didn’t even want to get married. But fuck if he wasn’t having a moment where he’d do anything to stay with Dorian.
Because the other alternative was- shit. Months apart. Years. Nothing? He wasn’t damn near full of Dorian yet, or ready to give him up. That realization hit him like a force spell straight to the chest, nearly sending him back a step.
“Fuck.” He repeated the word again, this time it held less stubborn heat. “You could get your dumbass killed, is what you could do. You could end up just like your dad, ‘specially if you don’t have me at your back to watch you.”
"I know," Dorian snapped. "But having you there will make it worse."
He knew he wasn't wrong, but it felt terrible to say it. Dorian was already a pariah among his people, and he was only now learning to take a page from Maevaris's book of How to Not Give A Fuck And Force People To Respect You Anyway. To add a Qunari into the mix? It was too much.
But it wasn't just about him. "I'm not letting you go there," he added, far more quietly. "I can't. You'd last a day, perhaps. They will kill you. You can't be there, as my lover or otherwise."
A great deal of the hot air left Bull’s chest all at once and he looked … deflated. His shoulders slumped slightly, into something more than a pout. Pure disappointment. Shaking his head slowly, he turned and walked away from Dorian.
He didn’t go far, just to snag his pants and shrug them on before he bothered saying anything. Dorian was right, he knew it. Bull being there would just make for complications for the Vint, even if Bull was confident in his own ability to stay alive, he’d put his lover in danger, and that was unacceptable.
“Try not to underestimate my ability to stay alive, Kadan.” The title was a little more sarcastic than his usual tone, and he regretted it immediately, but Bull was still running through the emotions himself. Shrugging into his pants, he glanced over at Dorian. “I’m gonna go find some booze. Good shit, none of that weak wine you like.”
"Bull. Amatus." Bull hadn't moved toward the door, but Dorian felt the need to chase him down. They'd spent months apart before. They'd spent the last year largely apart, what if this turned out to be no different? What if they could simply go on as they were? No, Dorian would never have months free where he could simply be at Skyhold, but …
"Please don't go," he said weakly. "And if you're going to go, then … come back and give me something to drink, as well." Dorian couldn't stand the thought that Bull would walk out that door and not come back.
Bull sighed and walked back over to Dorian with that weak little request. He leaned down and kissed Dorian’s forehead, signifying the not-end to this conversation. And a little token of his love. Because… fuck. He loved Dorian enough to want to charge into Tevinter for him, and his pride was still a little wounded at being turned down for that.
“I’ll bring back a few jugs, ‘cause I’m gonna need ‘em. But this conversation isn’t over, Dorian.” He wasn’t giving up that easily, as much as he knew Dorian would like him to. “I know the shit you’re doing is important, but damn if I’m gonna be happy about it. This. What this does to us.”
"I… yes." Dorian took a steadying breath, reassured now that Bull would come back. They could talk about this. They could discuss it, and find some kind of solution that didn't seem altogether terrible.
Perhaps.
* * *
When Bull came back, Dorian was curled up on the bed.
He hadn't changed out of his robe and he hadn't touched his food. The handkerchief that Bull always seemed to have on hand to give him was on the pillow beside him.
While Bull was gone, he'd cried. Quite thoroughly, as a matter of fact. Painful sobs that wracked his entire body, undignified and uncontrolled. He could only contain himself for so long, but Dorian never thought he'd be at a point where he felt comfortable sobbing in front of someone else.
By the time Bull returned, Dorian was simply quiet.
It wasn’t surprising that Bull made a pitstop. On his way out, he stopped by where Cassandra was … delegating divine shit or whatever, and offered her a stick. She’d been all too happy to take him up on it, since the last year had just been her hiding swords under her robes and he damn well knew it.
So Bull got beat on with a big stick for a short period of time. Usually it helped. Usually he roared and yelled about things that were out of his control and then he was done and over it. But in this case… shit. He wasn’t over it. He wasn’t ready for Dorian to pack his bags and leave for Maker knew how long this time. Years, maybe. He knew walking out of the room hurt Dorian, but he knew that if he didn’t, he was going to say something he regretted.
When he made his way back, he had two jugs of …. fuck. Something good, that he nicked from the little tavern at the palace. Bull knew that at the very least, both of them were gonna need a few drinks. “Hey, I got-” he stopped when he spotted Dorian, and his brow furrowed in guilt. Guilt for having snapped. For leaving. His voice dropped to the soft, reassuring tone he did when they were going through the motions of aftercare. “Booze. It’s supposed to put hair on your back.”
"That's disgusting," Dorian mumbled. Nobody wanted hair on their back.
He sniffed, clearing his throat, and he took the handkerchief and tucked it under the pillow. There was no way to hide that he'd been crying, despite his best efforts. His eyes were red, his cheeks still wet, and he looked dreadful. He knew it, too, with the way that he glanced away from Bull. There was no fooling his lover, he knew that, but he gave it his best effort.
“Just another thing for you to get shaved off when you do that full body oil thing you like.” Bull wiggled his eyebrow suggestively, attempting to get at least a half-laugh out of Dorian. There was no point making matters worse in bringing up the topic of going with him again, right now. When Dorian was back on his feet and passionate about it, it’d be a hell of a lot more fun to fight.
This was just… rough. But he knew Dorian wasn’t gonna want him to coddle, so he walked over to the table that contained their now-cold breakfast. “Heard the Boss is due in today or tomorrow.”
"Oh? Good." Dorian pushed his hand back through his hair, trying to smooth it into less of a mess. He'd have to tell the Inquisitor, as well. And everyone else.
As much as he wished he had a choice in the matter, he didn't. He knew how Bull must have felt, that he was choosing Tevinter over him — and yes, he was, but Dorian couldn't allow himself such selfishness. He had an opportunity to better his homeland, to take responsibility for wrongs done and actually do something about it. He couldn't prioritize his own personal happiness above something like that.
"Amatus?"
He swallowed hard. "Could you just… Come here? Please." Maybe he didn't want to be questioned, or talk too much, but he wanted to be held. There was enough distance between them on a regular basis.
It was a tough pill to swallow, but Bull knew that running Dorian off before all of this actually happened wasn’t on his to-do list. If anything, what he wanted was to make as many good memories as they could before they had to separate.
Not that he was done with the idea of going with Dorian, anyway. Not by a long shot.
Something about Dorian’s please really wrenched at his heart, though, and he jerked away from the food abruptly and carried himself over to the bed like he was automated. He didn’t remove his pants before slipping into the bed, figuring that was probably best left to Dorian ripping them off later. If he wanted to.
“We’re still gonna talk about this later, yeah?” Bull couldn’t help asking, even as he slipped a big arm around Dorian and pulled him across his chest.
"Yes," Dorian said quietly. He fit against Bull like he was made for him, curling up against him and resting his head on his lover's chest. He'd grown used to the steady beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest on every breath, the warmth of his skin. This was where he was truly happy, and when he was through being devastated he would be thoroughly angry at the idea that things were so unfair.
"We'll talk about it. We will." Maybe they could work something out. Dorian had something with him, something that he'd brought for Bull and planned to give him on their final day here, but he'd nearly forgotten about it with the news about his father. He was too much of an emotional wreck to think logically about anything at all.
He was silent for some time.
"Please don't think that I want to give you up," was what he finally said. "I don't."
“Good.” It was awkward for Bull to move his head once he was down, but he managed to shift slightly so he could press a kiss to Dorian’s head. His arm was wrapped snugly, and he could’ve easily drifted off to sleep just like this. Like they did so many nights before. But instead he just laid there, eyes up to the ceiling, thinking. It was never a good thing when The Iron Bull was thinking.
“Shit, Dorian.” He huffed out a half-chuckle, half groan. Of course that was what his lover thought. “If you wanted that, we’d have bigger fish to fry than this shit. Just think sometimes you could do with actually being a little more selfish. But I guess that’s me being selfish, asking that from you.”
"A little. I don't mind it," Dorian murmured, turning his head to brush his lips against Bull's chest. "But it's just as selfish of me to ask to hang onto you."
They'd been doing this for a year now, apart for weeks or months at a time. Dorian hadn't thought that that situation would be temporary, but this felt more like his hand was being forced. Bull didn't have to put up with this. He didn't have to stay. He could find someone else.
The idea of Bull with anyone else, however, made him feel unreasonably jealous.
“Hey,” Bull’s voice was still that soft breath, not loud or demanding, no boom that was typical. Even if he knew how much Dorian liked that boom, this wasn’t the time or the place. “I’m not going anywhere. Demon spawns couldn’t separate us at this point, alright?”
Bull would just like to see them try. Hell, he’d like a reason to kill half of the Magisterium, while he was at it, but it seemed like that was part of the topic that Dorian wasn’t gonna cave on. “We’re gonna be here for a little while, yeah? Before you have to go? We’ll figure it out.”
Dorian rubbed circles against Bull's chest, his fingertips tracing the lines of his lover's scars. He'd settled considerably now that he felt like Bull wasn't going to leave him. They could work this out. They'd been long-distance for some time already, there was no reason why they couldn't continue, or find a better solution.
In fact —
He sat up, trying to smooth his hair down. "I have a gift for you," he said. "I brought it with me, I meant to give it to you under other circumstances."
“Hm?” It wasn’t easy for Bull to turn his head a lot when he was in a prone position, but he did his best to follow Dorian with his eye regardless. Just when he was getting comfortable too.
Damn, this was gonna make him sad, wasn’t it?
Pulling himself up with a sigh, Bull readjusted his legs and watched Dorian move around - one of his favorite pastimes, getting to watch Dorian fuss over everything in the room while Bull just relaxed. That was usually before they got down and dirty, given it was normally Bull’s goal to make it so Dorian couldn’t walk properly after sex. “Alright, give it to me big guy.”
Dorian moved to his trunk, unlatching it and opening it up. He'd placed his clothes in the armoire nearby, hanging them all to be worn later, and many of his personal effects were scattered around the room. He still had some items in the trunk, and one of them was wrapped in a blue velvet cloth.
He brought it to the edge of the bed and offered it out. "I want you to know that the materials for this are near impossible to find and it cost me a small fortune, and the magic involved is highly impressive," he said. "I know you aren't going to appreciate that upon seeing it, so I want you to understand that first."
Bull rolled his eye dramatically and huffed out, reaching forward to pull Dorian in for a quick, hard kiss. “I love it when you tell me I gotta be impressed by something you do. Like I’m not all the fuckin’ time.” He wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of experimental - or any - magic, but he could appreciate the hell out of it when Dorian did it.
Mostly cause Dorian was damn pretty when doing it..
Never one to waste time, Bull pulled the velvet back, and his eye got wider as the glittering became more visible. “Oooooh.” He looked like a damn dragon that found a horde of gold, by that point. “Don’t know what the fuck it is, but damn it’s pretty.”
It was pink, too.
Dorian knew what Bull liked.
The crystal was encircled by a gold snake and was affixed to a sturdy chain, like Dorian was aware that he wanted Bull to wear it and he actually had to think about what would be both practical and aesthetically appealing. Bull liked pretty, but he'd destroy anything with delicate filigree and hair-thin chains.
Dorian took in a deep breath, touching his fingertip to it. "This is a sending crystal," he said. He'd had a whole speech planned, and it hadn't been so emotional, but given their current situation, his feelings about this item had changed. It wasn't simply a convenience, it was a lifeline.
He'd brought another item to the bed, wrapped in white silk, and he opened it now. There was another crystal, slightly smaller, and it too had a gold snake wrapped around it. "That one is yours, and this one is mine," he went on. "Activate it, and whatever distance between us is erased."
Bull sat there slightly flabbergast for a few minutes, staring down at the crystal and overturning it in his hand. He looked over at Dorian’s and- Shit, he definitely didn’t need to be told to be impressed by this kind of magic. This was exactly what he needed so he didn’t feel completely rushed out of Dorian’s life.
And no that wasn’t a damn tear at the corner of his eye. … Maybe it was.
Bull cleared his throat finally, trying to not let any emotion overtake him. But he croaked quietly as he started talking. “Shit this is-” Starting over, he shook his head. “Damn, this is fucking great. It’ll work from anywhere?” He was already dreaming up a hundred different possibilities, until a slow smile grew on his face as he hit the one that was going to become pretty much the norm. “And I can talk to you through it? About anything? Dirty?
Dorian watched Bull's expression, trying not to smile — or cry, for that matter. "From anywhere, and about anything," he said, scoffing and glancing away. "Of course your mind would go there first."
He tried to sound disparaging, but it didn't work. Sex was just as important to Dorian as it was to Bull, even if Dorian was a little quieter about it in public. Dorian was just as aggressive, just as filthy, just as sexual as his lover, and there was never a time when Dorian wasn't able to keep up. Dorian was the one who'd started writing letters to Bull with intensely graphic content. As much as he tried to downplay the fact that yes, they'd be able to speak to one another in a sexual way, it had been one of Dorian's very first priorities.
Bull barked out a loud laugh, getting even louder as Dorian flushed a little. He reached around his neck and clasped it on, not wanting to waste time with holding it in his hand when he could be wearing it. Shit, this was the best. Now that he was beaming with the world’s largest grin, Bull leaned over to give Dorian another kiss, this one sweet, passionate and full of promise.
Pulling away just slightly, he whispered against Dorian’s mouth, a smirk tugging at his own. “Can we try it now? You go stand in the corner.”
Dorian didn't dare give himself the hope that this problem was over, but he let out a sigh of relief and kissed Bull hard. "No," he said softly. "You'll miss the full effect. Not in the corner."
He pressed his hand to Bull's chest when he stood up, and as he walked away he slipped his own sending crystal around his neck. Their suite had a small washroom off to one side, and Dorian slipped into it before closing the door.
Moments later, the crystal resting against Bull's chest began to glow.
"You'd best be impressed with this," came Dorian's voice from the crystal. He could be heard, just slightly, through the door, but his words were clearly coming from the crystal itself.
“Shit!” Bull barked out another laugh and fell back against the bed, clutching the necklace with the dopiest fucking look on his face. “Oh damn.” To say he was impressed was an understatement, and Bull honestly couldn’t wait to abuse the hell out of this. Or to, you know, actually keep tabs on Dorian.
He could move the Chargers closer to Tevinter. Not in the lands, but on the border, enough to be within meeting distance - visiting distance if Dorian allowed it - they could make this work, damnit. He was determined.
Breathing out a happy sigh, Bull looked down at the crystal. “I’m so damn impressed I could do push-ups right now with no hands. You better have a few hours blocked off for me.”
Dorian laughed softly, warm and low. For a moment, he could let go of everything else that had happened today. He didn't have to lose Bull. He could speak with him every day, if he wanted. He could listen to Bull's rumbling voice late at night, alone, despite miles separating them.
"Why?" he asked. Bull couldn't see it, but he surely knew that tone of voice. Dorian was likely slumped elegantly against the door, a little smirk on his face, making his body available. "You have plans?"
Bull grumbled something under his breath and rolled to the side, pushing himself up at the same time. He propped a hand under his horn and held his head up, staring a hole into the washroom door. “Yeah, I’ve got plans. Get your glorious ass in here so I can lick wine off of it before the Boss gets here and makes us do the boring shit. We’ll talk about everything else… later.”
And they would. The topic was far from over, but for now, it was at least at a stage that Bull could manage.
The door opened a moment later and Dorian peeked out, smiling faintly. There was still a sadness in his eyes, but Bull's optimism was infectious. What he needed now was this. He needed his lover, he needed to be wanted and loved. He needed to be fucked senseless so there wasn't a painful thought in his head, needed to be overwhelmed and overcome and conquered, so he didn't have to think anymore.
He could think later.
He could worry about the rest later.
Regardless of anything else, he had Bull. That was all that mattered.