ᴀʟᴛᴜs, ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴀɢɪsᴛᴇʀ (tevene) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-01-01 11:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: cullen rutherford, ₴ inactive: dorian pavus |
Dorian Pavus was here, but “he might not be your Dorian Pavus,” Cullen had been told. He was looking at the man who’d just walked into the lobby at the Department of Outlander Affairs, and how could that be anyone but his Dorian? His face was the same, his hair was the same, the expression that said “I am nervous but don’t want to display it” was the same, and some of the clothes were different, but even that included pieces Cullen recognized. Over Dorian’s shoulders, for instance, was the “don’t fuck with me today” scarf. How was a Dorian who was not his Dorian going to have the “don’t fuck with me today” scarf? So when Dorian came in, Cullen did as instinct dictated and swept forward to hug him tightly and bury his face in the curve of Dorian’s shoulder. The afternoon had been nothing but stress, and a hug from Dorian was virtually guaranteed to make things at least a little better. This was - Well, Dorian didn’t really have words for it. He’d come a long way, he supposed - had sort of evolved from living in the headspace of ‘when it goes inevitably wrong, it will be my fault’ when it came to his personal relationships; previously, the standards of the Tevinter Imperium toward homosexuality caused him to shun most anything chock-full of sentimentality or attachments. There were a multitude of reasons why he and Max hadn’t lasted, and some of it did have to do with Tevinter - but apparently that didn’t matter with Cullen (this Cullen?) and Dorian had gone and married him anyway. Married him. Went through the whole Inquisition with him, as Dorian came into the fray fearing who he could be and yet wishing he could be that person - then went onward with him too, as he did come into who he was and embraced his qualities as a leader, a Magister. Never did Dorian imagine he’d actually have a partner who stuck by him throughout all of that. He was still trying to process everything when Cullen hugged him and of course Dorian hugged him in return - a fierce hug, because above all else Cullen was his friend even if his and Dorian’s memories didn’t match up like puzzle pieces locking into place. “I’ve got you, of course,” he said, squeezing Cullen in his embrace. “You’re here. I’m here.” Not like he knew what that actually meant, but - it was something he could work with. “Thank the Maker for that, at least,” Cullen sighed. As was always the case, having Dorian’s arms around him made breathing a little easier even in the midst of an existential crisis. The man had held him through nightmares, written correspondence for him when withdrawal had his hands shaking too badly, and made the long and trying journey to South Reach with him to meet his family after years with only the barest of contact. Of course his presence was a comfort now that they were apparently jumping dimensions. Even so, Cullen knew that things weren’t exactly the way they were meant to be, not based on the conversations he was having over Vallo’s network. He didn’t let go of Dorian, but he did pull back enough to look at him. “But you…you truly have no memory of us? At all?” “I don’t, I’m afraid,” Dorian replied honestly - because he didn’t see the point in lying about it. That wouldn’t help the situation any. But he kept holding on to Cullen, fingers clenched on the back of his coat - it was so odd, considering the last time Dorian saw him he’d been here. In Vallo. Having found his niche working with recovering addicts at the clinic, and happy with Alexis and their massive amount of furchildren living at Skyhold. That was a different Cullen, however. He hoped that Cullen was still happy - that was all Dorian wanted for him. He wasn’t certain where to start - but he wasn’t going anywhere, so perhaps that had to count for something. There was no way he’d let Cullen navigate the newness and the quirks of Vallo on his own. “The Inquisition went a little bit differently in my timeline. But - if you’d like, you can tell me everything? I’ll bring you to Skyhold too. Unless you want an apartment in the Morningside building.” All right, then. Different timelines, which were apparently converging on this place, so Dorian here simultaneously was and was not the man he knew. Cullen figured he'd just have to work with that as best he could. At least Dorian was less panicked than he would have expected from a Dorian who was abruptly told he was married. "I'm still not sure how Skyhold is both here and in the Frostbacks, but yes, let's go there. Maybe my old tower is still free." Maker, it would be miserable going back to sleeping alone, though. He'd gotten accustomed to having another warm body beside him in the night. Here he didn't even have the dog to fill the space. But he could hardly expect Dorian who didn't remember being with him to...well, be with him. Yes, right, perfect. Skyhold. The internal panic most certainly swelled like a sail caught in the sea breeze, but Dorian would hold on - perhaps wait until he was elsewhere to really break down, because doing that in front of Cullen (the person he was married to? Though no doubt he’d had plenty of panic attacks in front of his spouse and the opposite was also true) was just rude. “It’s quite difficult to explain. Vallo is essentially its own pocket dimension with its own rules,” Dorian said, adjusting the fabulous ‘don’t fuck with me’ scarf since it had gone a little bit askew after that embrace. Which felt nice, don’t get him wrong - he just needed some time to...catch up. With all of the goings-on. He’d always found Cullen to be ridiculously attractive, so that wasn’t the issue. It was simply that his head and his heart were in two different places right now, and eventually they’d coincide. Of that he was certain. “But yes, shall we?” He nodded toward the exit, and they’d walk a few blocks to find a suitable waypoint. “You’re alright otherwise? I - take it Tevinter hasn’t been too horrible an experience for you?” Now that was a shock if he ever heard one. Cullen chuckled - it was funny to have a repeat of a conversation he'd had a thousand times with old friends with the man who'd been beside him for all of it. "Not nearly as bad as I feared it could be," he answered. "The food is excellent, winter barely exists, and I can get my hands on virtually any book that strikes my fancy. So whilst I still hate Society parties and the fact that someone attempts to assassinate you or me at least once a month, it's not all bad. And I'd rather be fighting off assassins in the wretched summer heat and humidity than worrying about you alone in Ferelden." “Sounds about right,” Dorian responded dourly, hands slipping into his pockets. “Society parties are really not all they are cracked up to be. The charade is...tiresome, to say the least.” That was part of the reason he and Max had parted ways, even though they had been perfectly happy for much of their relationship. Dorian could be himself - he didn't have to act difficult to reach, didn't have to be that person. A person that, upon showing compassion, would get stomped on in Tevinter's world of politics. His affection was not earned easily, but he was a compassionate sort and had love to give; he just couldn't show it, not outwardly, not unless he wanted to be eaten alive. The second the sharks sniffed out blood in the water they'd come swarming - and he already had a target on his forehead, thanks to his father supporting his calls for reform. And then Halward's subsequent assassination, what a coincidence. But things were different here. And, apparently, in Cullen’s timeline - Dorian didn’t have to navigate those treacherous waters alone either. That thought was comforting. “I wanted to make a difference,” he continued, thoughtful, quieter than he often was. “Really inspire change, even if I wouldn’t get to see it directly in my lifetime. I know it’s a risk, but - I like to think those risks were paying off.” “They’re beginning to, in my world,” Cullen said. Strange to think of it that way: his world, rather than the only world. If not for reading the Inquisitor’s report on the world that could have been if he and Dorian hadn’t succeeded in moving back to their proper place in time, he might not have believed it. “The Lucerni have built enough power to be taken seriously in the Magisterium, hence the repeated assassination attempts. It’s likely to be years yet before we actually see an abolition of slavery, but you’re making real progress. You and Mae and the others have brought some reforms into law and worked on changing the culture enough that there’s even been some immediate improvement.” Ah, Mae - now there was a familiar name. Dorian quite missed his dear friend - he hoped she was doing well, in whichever timeline; though he couldn’t imagine that she was any less fierce in any timeline. He adored her, truly. If only he could speak to her again. “That’s good news,” he exhaled. “And I haven’t driven you mad either, with my quirks,” was his assumption, mustache twitching a little to hide the smile. Anyone married to him was surely in for a time - though likely Cullen was used to how Dorian operated, since presumably they had known each other for years at that point. “You are also well?” he inquired, since that was important. “I know it has been a journey for you too.” He figured he’d get the details of their courtship and whatnot later, but Cullen seemed to be happy and healthy - free from lyrium withdrawal effects and doing all he could to help other Templars who had also wrenched themselves away from the shackles of the Order. “It has, and I’ve not driven you mad with my ‘quirks’ yet, either.” Quirks was a nice way of saying ‘massive caravan of baggage,’ Cullen thought. It was almost more odd to hear Dorian being so insecure about the idea that he could be loved than to be in a pocket dimension - it had just been so long since Dorian had any reason to doubt that. “Not in three years with the Inquisition or two of marriage in Tevinter - and no, it’s still not considered legal in Tevinter, but anyone who matters knows what we are to each other. The rest of the Magisterium certainly suspects, but they can’t prove I’m anything more than your big scary Southern Templar bodyguard.” “I had wondered about the legality,” Dorian admitted. Tevinter wasn’t necessarily homophobic - sexuality in Thedas, as a general rule, was very fluid and open and no one really questioned if two men were together, or two women. The issue was that the emphasis was placed on blood lines, and continuing them - thus, a man such as Dorian could dabble all he liked but when it came time to be Serious then he was meant to shove aside all of those impulses. To bury them under pounds and pounds of inner dirt and debris. To do what was expected of him. To continue on in the name of the good Pavus name, even if it meant he spent the rest of his life screaming on the inside. Well. Fuck that, to put it kindly. “But - I wouldn’t expect it to matter to either of us, then.” He approached the waypoint, the soothing orange glow of the crystal - it was a different way to travel, but quite convenient. “Are you alright with - teleporting, in a sense? It’s one of the main ways to get around here. There’s another waypoint such as this near the courtyard of Skyhold.” "Teleporting?" Cullen immediately looked concerned. Travel by magic in Thedas was nigh impossible - even in Tevinter, they agreed that it would take an ocean of lyrium (or blood) to go across the street, so it wasn't worth it. There were all sorts of students at Qarinus theorizing about it and writing theses, of course, but it remained in the realm of the theoretical. "It's safe? And...well, pardon the question, but not powered by the blood of innocents? Just checking." That was a perfectly legitimate question - Dorian had wondered similar things when he first arrived since he was unfortunately familiar with how Magisters operated behind closed doors when it came to the practice of the dark, arcane arts. He’d also been appropriately wary about blood magic in general, especially since there was an entire coven dedicated to the practice. But Asetenarra was nothing if not ‘soft,’ as they said, and he enjoyed spending time with them - was glad that Marina had joined up with them as well; she seemed to fit in nicely and was surprisingly protective over her goth covenmates. “It’s not, no,” he assured. “And it’s perfectly safe. The waypoints were developed in ancient times, by one of the local covens that no longer exist today. The covens are also a whole other thing, which - I will catch you up on that. I’ve actually joined one.” He was somewhat excited to share that part - Beketh didn’t require him to cloak himself in secrecy when it came to talking about them to those he was close to, not about general coven life. And joining them had helped him - quite a bit, actually. "Let's do this teleporting business, then, and you can tell me all about it at Skyhold," Cullen replied. "As long as no one's murdering anyone to make it happen, it can't be worse than sea travel." Cullen still carried enough trauma-induced claustrophobia to truly despise spending even a minute belowdecks on a ship, and he wasn't thrilled with the bobbing and lurching even when he could see the sky. He did like seeing that even here, Dorian had a social outlet and someplace to talk highbrow magical theory with people. He knew how much Dorian had missed that sort of society when they were with the Inquisition. (He still really wasn't making sense of the idea of This Dorian and His Dorian not exactly being the same person.) Very well, then, off they went. Dorian touched the crystal and they were pulled in - it was very quick and efficient, this type of travel, and before they knew it they were navigating the system of waypoints to end up at their destination. The waypoint near the courtyard of Skyhold, as he indicated - when they arrived, he took a breath of fresh air; sunlight sprayed through the cracks of clouds, and that air tasted like wintergreen. It calmed him, somewhat, and he was glad to be back at Skyhold - always glad, even if he didn’t live here anymore. That was also something he’d have to explain to Cullen. “Here we are,” he announced, dusting his jacket off. “I presume you’d want to take your former quarters? And if I can get you anything, please let me know. Max and his spouse have a fancy coffeemaker in the kitchen. The fortress has been modernized quite a bit, though hasn’t lost its original Inquisitorial appeal.” "So you've been here long enough to make friends who tease you, and Trevelyan's been here long enough to get married...but I saw you at home in Minrathous this morning, and I have a letter from Trevelyan on my desk there that was posted from Antiva just last week. Maker's breath." Cullen shook his head as if to clear it and sighed. This was going to take some getting used to. Dorian had asked a question, though, and he really ought to answer it. "But yes...the old tower. Assuming that the Skyhold from whatever one of the infinite bloody worlds also eventually got the roof fixed." No, he was not above getting grumpy about all this multiverse nonsense. He went on with a wry half-smile, though. "I've gotten too spoiled by the comforts of the north to spend a Frostback winter under an open roof alone anymore." It was a lot to get used to - they could take it slowly, however. There wasn’t any rush. Yes, technically, they were at the whims of Vallo - and either of them could disappear tomorrow. But Dorian was going to hope that they could get a bit of a break. Just a little one. Enough to cobble together thoughts and feelings and other emotions, and become something resembling functional human beings. “The roof is fixed,” he confirmed with a laugh. “Come along - I’ve much to tell you, and you’ll have to let me know when you want me to stop. When you’ve reached information overload.” There was indeed quite a bit on the list - his own Inquisition, his adventures in Vallo thus far, Beketh, why he was living in a penthouse with Marina in the city. Enough to fill hours. But all of that would come. He knew he could open up to Cullen - that, at least, would not change. And it was comforting that some things remained the same across the vast expanse of universes. |