thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Dorian + OPEN
What| Dorian is quite determined to distract himself, and luckily, the Capitol provides ample opportunity
Where| District 7, out on the streets, a random bar somewhere in the capitol
When| spanning a week from the end of the arena on
Warnings/Notes| none yet, possible spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition but I'll keep it to a minimum

DISTRICT 7 SUITES

It had been a hectic day, racing around to find those he knew from home, but it hadn't ended as sweetly as he would have liked. The depression had settled on him like a heavy blanket, pulling down the edges. He was already trying to compartmentalize it away, to shut it somewhere deep and dark and not touch it again. He knew it would happen eventually and now it had, and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with it.

So he stepped back into his suites (having finally, finally figured out the 'elevators') and decided to do a thorough inventory of what was actually available to him here. He started with the common room. Turning every screen on (once he could figure out how), fiddling with the windows (if they were windows), slamming through the kitchen and opening and shutting the fridge with a frown (some kind of ice magic?).

There was only one thing that was bothering him incredibly deeply about it.

"But where are the books?"

OUT ON THE STREETS

He'd fallen asleep on the couch of the District 7 common room, having not been able to quite face his own quarters. When he woke he didn't want to be there at all, so exploring it was, and after a shower (which took him an hour and two avoxes to figure out), he strode out of the Tribute Tower and into the streets of the Capitol, determined to distract himself. And maybe find a bookstore in the process.

However, he stood out like a sore thumb - one shoulder bare in the middle of winter - and he had not expected it to be COLD - and he kept getting stopped by strangers asking to touch his mustache.

DOWN IN THE BAR

Inevitably, night after night, Dorian found himself in one of the bars in the Capitol. He was still having a difficult time facing his quarters, and nothing was better for distraction than a bar full of people who were at once utterly inane and completely irreverent - who could not see the world for more than four feet in front of them and those four feet were devoted to hedonism. It was completely natural to pretend that he was completely devoted to hedonism as well.

And a nice bottle of Brandy.

That, and the locals were very generous with their free drinks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No, but if I could discover what they were using to nullify your magic, then perhaps it could be reversed," Cullen points out, logically he thinks. He may be drunk but he still has sense. "Obviously they can't just take it from you. It's being suppressed, somehow..."

"I would have thought that would have been obvious, but I-- am not so sure what to think, anymore. I have never felt quite this hollow in my entire life. I- It terrifies me, I'm willing to admit." He laughed, but it was a strained laugh, and he would never have admitted it if his tongue wasn't already loosened. "I think to myself - this must what it feels like to be Tranquil, if one still had the feelings to care about it."

"You are not Tranquil," Cullen mutters darkly. "You will not be made so, and we will find out what's hampering your magic so it can be returned to you."

So, he's perhaps come full circle - so to speak.

"You are- very kind," Dorian said, frowning, the words coming out rough. Oh god, had he really drank this much? He cleared his throat and tried again. "You're a very kind man, you know. Underneath all that- fur and orders and sword swinging." There, that came out much much better. He turned on his stool so he could look at Cullen squarely.

"Though I would not wish this place on anyone, I am thankful that you are here."

"I rarely swing my sword much these days, except for show, and I don't wear that much fur," Cullen points out with a wry look at Dorian.

"But don't think anything of it. We're here, we'll work together. That's all there is to it. I'm not about to abandon my - friends."

"Friends," he repeated, and then smiled, a little mischeviously. "Friends, yes. Odd, isn't it. That we can now fairly accurately call each other friends."

He wondered how much Cullen remembered about their friendship, actually, but he didn't say it out loud.

"I would... you know, Skyhold nearly- Well, save for the stable master, and half the staff and most of the - well fine, everyone outside of the Inner Circle, really - What was I saying..."

He might say something vague about the strangeness of a former Templar and a mage from Tevinter becoming friends, but Dorian's words bring him up a little short.

"I know. I haven't really had friends in a long time, either. People who - care."

"Yes," He said, firmly, as if Cullen managed to finally encapsulate the thought that he had been alluding to.

"Care. Yes, exactly. I mean, I've - I've had friends, some, but you know how how it goes, blood magic and death and suddenly it's quite a bit harder staying close."

He paused for a while, his face falling. "... But Skyhold was home. For a while."

"Funny how that works," Cullen mutters, in a way that clearly says it's not funny at all. The blood magic, the demon summoning, the crazy apostates and Meredith - Meredith.

He finishes off another brandy.

"It is home. Don't know why you think you need to go abandoning it. Even my - timeline? Nadia would be heartbroken if you left. Corypheus or no."

Nadia. A name he knew he should know so well, etched on his heart, but he didn't. Nadia was just a name. He swallowed, looking rather heartbroken himself.

"It was never forever," He said, as if to remind himself. "It never could be. I... It is not how I would want to leave, but if I must, I must. I'm not sure my heart could bear it, otherwise."

Cullen gives him a rather nonplussed sort of look. "Is your Inquisitor the sort to send you away?" he asks, confused.

He laughed, at that, couldn't help it. "No- no. He did everything short of begging me to stay, actually," he remembered fondly, unable to keep that fondness from coming through in his smile. "No, I... I long ago made the decision to return to Tevinter, when everything was done. To stop running, and... change things for the better. If I could."

"Admirable," Cullen says after some thought. "Though I imagine there's plenty of good you could do from within the Inquisition, as well, if you chose."

Because it is, after all, a choice. If it depresses him so much, maybe he should make a different one.

"Oh, of course. No end of it. And I had meant to stay until the time was right."

Just a little while longer.

"It all seems rather a moot point, now."

"Only if you think there's no way for you to get back," Cullen says pointedly, giving Dorian a stern sort of look.

"I'm prone to pessimism, it's true," he said with a sigh. "He would say the same thing, though. 'We can't give up yet, Dorian!'. I can almost hear the exasperation in his voice."

His sadness only deepened. "I wish you had met him. Of course, you have, but I- I wish you remembered."

"It would certainly make things easier to understand if we all remembered the same Inquisitor," Cullen says with a snort.

He glances into his glass, then, and sighs. "I'm sure this fellow is a good sort, and a fine Inquisitor. But I wouldn't trade my memories of Lady Trevelyan for anything."

"... He was the greatest and the best of men," Dorian said, and his face sank, the heartbreak showing plainly. "The-- the very best--" His throat closed up and he was forced to stop speaking lest he begin blubbering, and he quickly signaled for another glass of - what had he been drinking the last half an hour? It hardly mattered.

"I can... hardly believe that yours was different at all, though of course, she must have been."

"He still is, I'm sure. Maker's breath, Dorian, you are an even more miserable drunkard than I am," Cullen points out, almost incredulously.

"It's rather new for me, too," He said, sighing. "Should I attempt flirting with you instead? Would that be better? I'm not sure I have anything else left, in between. It's that or Wicked Grace and someone will be going back to the tower in shame."

"I am never playing Wicked Grace again, not with you or anyone," Cullen says vehemently. "I've had more than enough humiliation for one lifetime. No more."

Dorian laughed, heartily, the memory picture perfect in his mind's eye.

"Trust me," He said wryly, "Nothing about that should have been humiliating for you. I'm sure you started a few legends that night."

Another groan. "And no one will ever take me seriously again. I have to work with you people!"

"It humanized you," Dorian said, all too seriously. "The same way it humanized the Inquisitor. He isn't the only--" But there he stumbled, "She. She isn't the only one, who seems untouchable, sometimes."

"He or she," Cullen corrects with a sigh. "I didn't think you needed to see me lose my pants to see me as human, Dorian. Varric certainly didn't. And Cassandra -"