Chapter Text
Fenris and Orana walked back to the Hawke Estate in relative silence. Dorian had asked Orana to let him tell Fenris the whole story, which she naturally agreed to. What she did tell Fenris right before entering the house was, "She is alive and safe and Lord Dorian said her conversation and her sewing gave him all the pleasure he ever needed from her." For the second time that day, Fenris allowed Orana to think the world and the people in it were more virtuous than they really were.
Once back in his foyer, Fenris just yelled, "Pavus, what the fuck?"
Once again, Dorian's voice came from his bedroom. "There's only one room in this house with two chairs and wine, which if you ask me is the bare minimum of what this conversation needs."
By the time Dorian had finished that sentence, Fenris was in the room with him. Dorian proferred the bottle of wine he had been nursing. Fenris took a swig and sat down. "So, Lutana."
"Right, there could only be so many Lutanas in the world, yes? So I figured, there must be something else, something Orana doesn't realize she knows, or an angle I'm not seeing. Eventually, I asked her if she had always been owned by Hadriana, and she said, 'no, Hadriana bought the rest of us at the same time as the other magister bought Lutana.' I recalled my Lutana saying she had been sold because her previous master, Magister Cinnameus, had fallen on hard times and had to sell all of his slaves to pay his creditors. So I asked Orana if she remembered her first master's name."
"And she said Cinnameus," Fenris finished for him, and he handed Dorian the wine.
Dorian nodded excitedly and took a swig.
"But you said Lutana was your seamstress. Orana seemed pretty certain her sister was destined for concubinage."
Dorian stared at Fenris like he was an idiot.
"Ohhh, so your father…"
"…bought me a 'pet' for my 15th birthday, like a good and loving Altus father does, yes." Dorian grimaced and downed another mouthful of wine before handing it back to Fenris.
"Did you not tell him you wanted to exchange her for the other variety?"
"You think he didn't already know? Please Fenris, I had shamed my ancestors in the Circle Chantry long before I reached 15. No, his theory was that I just needed to…'practice'."
The wine bottle stopped on its way to Fenris's lips. "'Practice'?"
"Yes, that if I just…gave it a go, I'd see that it 'felt just as good', at least enough to sire an heir or two." Dorian snorted, "As if that's anything like what 'feels good' to me. Anyway, when I refused to touch her, Father reassigned her as my seamstress. After telling her for the third time or so 'that isn't how you measure legs or hips', she burst into tears, telling me that she was terrified that if she couldn't seduce me, she'd be beaten or sold to someone worse. So I made my father swear to me in front of her that that wouldn't happen."
"And your father kept his word?" Fenris passed the wine back to Dorian.
"It's like Orana's father said," Dorian gave Fenris a sad smile. "My father was a good man." He shrugged. "Or he hoped that my familiarity with her and her familiarity with my nude form would eventually lead to something anyway."
"Alright, so you know Orana's sister. You still haven't explained why you were on the floor clutching her and crying your eyes out when I came back this evening."
"Haven't I? No I suppose I haven't." Dorian took a deep drink of the wine. "When Orana told me how the rest of her family died, I just couldn't help but imagine my dear Lutana being savagely bled to death in a blood ritual." His voice began to crack. "I may have gone a little over the top." He chuckled dismissively.
There it was again, Dorian's apparent distaste for blood magic, with much more visceral emotion this time. But did that really prove anything, when that strong reaction was evoked by the imagined loss of a pet? Because that was what she was to him, even though he never slept with her. He still called her "my Lutana", still had his father swear only to him that she wouldn't be harmed. Plenty of people kept animals as pets while still eating meat, attachment to one slave did not ensure the safety of any others.
But seeing as how they had somewhat backed into the topic Fenris had meant to discuss with him anyway, he decided to ask Dorian the question he had intended to open with. "Do you support abolishing slavery, Pavus?"
Dorian casually tilted his head, as if in thought and not deliberately trying to avoid Fenris's gaze. "I can't say I ever really gave it much thought, to be honest, aside from being aware that the debate exists and some of the broader arguments on both sides. I do believe there should be more effective protections against cruel treatment—"
Fenris snorted. "Oh, you're one of those. Of course you are."
"One of what?"
"You believe you treat your slaves well. Humanely. A few lashes for correction instead of a savage beating. They get to keep their children unless you really need the money. I'll bet your father is gentle when he fucks his concubine, and maybe even lets her come. And your family only bleeds them to within an inch of their lives to fuel your spells, but of course that just means it takes more of them to—"
"I don't!" Dorian burst out. "I don't practice blood magic! Blood magic is…the resort of a weak mind," he said with a certain tightness in his voice, almost as if he were trying to keep from crying. Fenris could almost swear his eyes even looked wetter, until Dorian closed them and started taking deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, he stood up and added with perfect, practiced diction, "And I absolutely will not be held responsible for the sins of my father." Then he strode towards the door.
Fenris jeered at his back, "I thought your father was a 'good man'."
Dorian halted, almost out the door, turned his head just enough for Fenris to see his profile, and croaked, "Was." He left Fenris's room and shortly after, Fenris heard the door of the former apprentices' room slam.
Later, Fenris heard the door quietly click open and very careful steps going down the stairs. Then, the rustle of laundry being taken down from the clothesline in the foyer, followed by the careful steps returning to Dorian's room.
Fenris entered the room shortly thereafter with the Canticle of Shartan under his arm. He found Dorian making up his bed, with almost as much care and precision as a slave would have done. He was smoothing out the top sheet, with small puffs of steam and light hissing as he heated his hand to dry any lingering damp areas.
"You actually do have experience with housekeeping."
Dorian didn't look at him. "Hardly. Roomkeeping, perhaps. Shame your family enough, and the Order of Argent is there to assure your poor parents that a strict bed-making regimen will keep you from sucking Laetan cock in the library." He snorted. "I am proud to say that I managed it three times in the Reverend Father's own study before I ran away. Plus another time with a newly invested Soporatus brother." He threw the coverlet over the bed, straightened it out, then sat down facing Fenris. "What can I do for you?" he asked wearily.
Fenris remembered why he was there. He fixed his eyes on Dorian's face and asked, "Pavus, if your father had bought you a boy instead of a girl, would you have fucked him?"
Dorian looked down at his hands, rubbing around the bases of his fingers, clearly accustomed to having rings to fiddle with in awkward situations. His nostrils flared. His jaw clenched beneath his pursed lips. Then he looked back up at Fenris, cleared his throat and answered with some difficulty, "Yes. I would have. In a heartbeat."
Fenris nodded, dropped the book on the bed next to him, and began to walk away.
"You're not…you wouldn't rather I left?" Dorian called after him.
"Why? I knew the answer before I asked, I just wanted to see if you'd be honest, with yourself and me."