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“No. Creators, no. Take that off, you’re not going out like that.” Lavellan protested the moment he walked into the Undercroft to find Dorian perched delicately on a tall stool as the massive qunari behind him carefully tied the crimson ropes across his shoulders. The Iron Bull looked up from his work only long enough to grin before focusing on the careful task at hand.
“Mother? Is that you?” Dorian laughed with wicked delight, looking around as if Lavellan was not the one standing in front of him with crossed arms and a speculative look. “Strange, I could have swore I heard her shrill complaining clear as day.”
“Excuse you.” Lavellan huffed before throwing his hands up and motioning to Dorian’s clothing. “What do you think you’re wearing?”
“It’s called Antaam-saar.” The Iron Bull supplied helpfully as he carefully began winding the knots of bright red rope down one of Dorian’s arms. “Well, it’s copying the style at least. I’m sure Par Vollen’s armor smiths would flip their shit if they saw this kind of leather stitching–”
“It’s qunari armor!”
“No, it’s styled after qunari armor.”
“Seriously, boss. They’d call in the army if they saw a mage wearing–”
“Whose idea was this?!”
Both Dorian and Iron Bull started to snicker, unable to help themselves. Iron Bull returned dutifully to his task again, Dorian preening helpfully under the attention.
“Some designers out of Orlais thought it would be a great idea to appropriate some of the Qunari culture into Skyhold. I believe it was an effort to foster good will with you, considering how uh…intimately involved? You are with one of their citizens.”
“Former citizen.” Iron Bull and Lavellan corrected in sync, causing Dorian to chuckle as the knots at his wrist were tightened carefully.
“It’s…it’s…It would offend any qunari within fifty miles!”
“Oh? Are you horribly offended, the Iron Bull?” Dorian asked, tipping his head back to examine the man’s face as he began threading long coils of rope through the rope anchor across Dorian’s collarbone to do the other arm.
“Having you all tied up walking around half dressed wearing my knots? Yeah, I’m pissed.” The man laughed.
“It’s …scandalous!” Lavellan finally yelled. “You’re hardly wearing anything! What good is it going to do you in battle? Hoping to turn on the enemy enough they’re less likely to gut you?”
“Ohhh, it’s too revealing for his delicate dalish eyes.” Dorian whispered conspiringly to Iron Bull, just loud enough for Lavellan to hear. Iron Bull snickered and Lavellan slapped a palm to his forehead.
“Boss, maybe you should take a look at the throne and bed designs they drew up for you before you start throwing the ‘scandalous’ word around.” Iron Bull chuckled as he began to wind the ropes around Dorian’s shoulder. For the benefit of Dagna and Harritt, his fingers were far more clinical than they would have normally been.
Lavellan warily approached the design bench next to his lovers, eyeing the drawings across it with a sort of morbid curiosity. What he saw there made his mouth fall open. “They expect me to put these…” He turned, still clutching the papers in his hand as he looked at Dorian and Iron Bull incredulously. “I’m supposed to sit on the throne with … naked…?!” His raised voice carried throughout the Undercroft and Lavellan glared daggers in the direction of snickering, both from Dagna and Harritt, as well as Iron Bull and Dorian.
“Look at the bed, Kadan.” Iron Bull said with a calm sort of comfort in his voice as he worked.
Lavellan flipped the page over, then promptly turned red. “Oh my gods.” He finally managed.
“Just imagine if we tied you to the posts, it’d look like they were holding you–”
“Shut up, Dorian!” Lavellan exclaimed, his ears now burning red as his face. “Oh my gods!” He repeated. “Who thought it’d be a good idea to cover Skyhold with naked qunari!?”
“They’re not naked, they’re tastefully covered up.” Dorian quipped, making Iron Bull snort behind him.
“Tasteful is up for debate, Kadan.” He said solemnly, anchoring the knots at Dorian’s elbow with wide strips of red fabric. “Some Orlesian named Phillipe is to blame. His name is signed at the bottom of all the drawings.”
“I’m…how could…!”
“So just a couple of statutes for the bedroom then?” Dorian asked, sounding surprisingly hopeful. “And the bed. We need the bed. The bed is glorious.”
“Dorian!” Lavellan spluttered, causing Iron Bull and Dorian both to roar with laughter. “How can you not be offended?!” Lavellan finally whirled on Iron Bull, waving the drawings in his hand.
“If I got offended every time someone sexualized Qunari, I’d have it pretty rough.” Iron Bull said easily. “I mean, look at this body. Do you want me to flex a little? There are people out there who will never see this kind of glory. So a statute–”
“I’m in love with a pair of lunatics.” Lavellan finally declared, tossing the papers back across the desk.
“Awwh, he said he loves us.” Iron Bull nudged Dorian with a knowing little smile, to which the ‘vint flashed white teeth and sat a little straighter, flourishing just a little under the praise.
“So just the bed.” Dorian fished, making Lavellan groan loudly.
“The headboard is shit, it’s too small. Absolutely–”
“I’ll draw up the alterations!” Dorian clapped his hands together as Iron Bull released him, apparently done with the rope work. “We’ll send them away and have it all built to our requirements!”
Lavellan slapped a hand to his forehead once again, though he peeked between his fingers to eye up Dorian, who was now stretching to test the mobility of the rope.
“With the proper materials the ropes can be enchanted to spread barriers from knot to knot, it’d actually provide good protection.” Dagna piped up as she trotted across the Undercroft to see Iron Bull’s finished work. “Did you want a set made?”
Both Dorian and Iron Bull looked over at Lavellan, who still had his hands over his face, the red flush in his ears giving away his appreciation. “Maybe just one?” He said in a quiet little voice.
Iron Bull was chuckling to himself as he helped Dagna measure the amount of rope he’d used. While the two of them finalized schematics, Dorian walked to Lavellan, practically strutting as he felt Lavellan’s lustful eyes all over him.
“You know, Amatus.” He began, sliding a hand around Lavellan’s hip and pulling the blushing elf close. “If you decide to get some new Tevinter statuary created, I am willing to model for it.”
“You’re terrible.” Lavellan protested, though his lips were pulling into a grin as Dorian nuzzled his lips and mustache across his neck.
“You’re getting over it.” Dorian mumbled, voice low as the two of them watched Iron Bull demonstrate several knots for Dagna’s curious attentions.
“Don’t you think it’s cruel?” Lavellan finally whispered, “To shove it in his face like this? He’s left the qun behind, maybe we shouldn’t be dragging it back up?”
“He’s allowed to miss home, Amatus.” Dorian said into his ear, watching as closely as Lavellan as Iron Bull guided Dagna’s hand through the process of tying a complex knot. She was a surprisingly fast learner. “He’s allowed to be comforted by familiar little things. Sure…the statutes are a little gaudy.” Dorian added with a laugh. “But seeing us in something like this? Something he obviously likes? I don’t see the harm.”
Lavellan swallowed, offering Dorian a soft little smile. “You think I should get a set made too, then?”
“Yes.” Dorian agreed, sliding a hand across Lavellan’s hip, giving him a little squeeze. “I also think you should let him put you in it right next to me, behind closed doors where he can properly enjoy it.”
Lavellan considered this for a few moments as Dorian left his side, letting his hand trail across Dorian’s skin when the man was called back so Dagna could examine a few final details and put them into the schematics. After a quick inner debate, he finally took a couple steps forward, casually rubbing his arm against Iron Bull’s as he stood next to him.
“Maybe measure up a set for me, then.” He said, trying to sound disinterested. He failed, judging by the way Dorian’s face broke into a grin and Iron Bull’s face brightened. The heat in the qunari’s eye as he regarded the elf told him he’d made the right choice.
Dorian was never going to let him live it down, but Lavellan found himself okay with that.