Chapter Text
"You want me to deliver the coffee today?" Dorian asked, raising a perfectly plucked brow at his supervisor. "Why me? In fact, why am I delivering?"
Anne didn't even bother to turn in his direction as she carefully yet quickly rolled up another chicken salad wrap. "You're delivering because these guys have been buying coffee from us religiously for the past three weeks and we might as well make them feel appreciated by going to them with a free round on us," she explained mildly, twisting a plastic sheet around the wrap with practiced flicks. "And you're delivering because Lilith would attempt to murder someone while crossing the street and Thalia would spill all of the coffee over the guy she likes."
"No I wouldn't!" Thalia squawked, popping up from her spot on the other side of the counter, face and pointed ears burning a brilliant shade of red. Lilith, from where she was scrubbing at a jam stain on the booth just behind her 'twin', snorted.
"Your knees have a tendency to malfunction whenever that guy comes in and your hands wind up braiding your hair with all the skill of a three year old. Your is usually already braided," Lilith stated, pointing her cloth at the other elf. "Yeah, you would."
If it were possibly, Thalia turned a shade darker. "What - I - Yeah, well, you would murder someone if you went!"
Lilith smirked. "Never said I wouldn't."
Dorian rolled his eyes, catching the timer just before it could start ringing and made his way over to the oven. "And why can't you make the delivery instead?" he asked as he pulled on his pair of over mitts (his, specifically, because there was no way he was going to stick his hands in someone else's mitts with someone else's dried sweat all over the inside) and pulled the tray of cinnamon rolls out. Perfectly golden and waiting for the cream cheese glaze. "I am more than capable of watching over these two for all of ten minutes."
Again, Anne didn't bother to face him, but he could see the smile curling over her lips out of the corner of his eye. "Because you have the biggest soft spot for Thalia and Lilith and would let them walk all over you. I would end up returning to the building on fire and the only thing you could say in your defense was that the twins turned their big blue eyes at you."
Dorian scowled at the cinnamon rolls. Well, she wasn't wrong.
As he put the tray on the cooling rack, Anne finished with the day's grab-n-go wraps and started for the industrial sized coffee machine. "I'll start getting the coffee made - go grab enough supplies for ten from the catering closet and then we can pick out an assortment of pastries for them."
He sighed, sliding his mitts off and hooking them in place. "If needs must," he said. Lilith snickered as he strode by while Thalia pouted from her position on the floor - Dorian wasn't entirely sure if she was upset because she was cleaning the base boards or because she wasn't going to be able to see...that one guy, what was his name? Cream? Creme? Creed?
All too soon the coffee was placed in a portable container along with a ridiculous amount of sugar, cream, and pastries. Dorian donned his coat (the girls always teased him for not wearing just a plain jacket, but he was from Trevinter, and Val Royauxe was cold) and scarf before hefting the bag of goods onto his shoulder and strutting out the door, much to his coworkers' amusement. The sky was still dark, moon hiding behind a line of buildings and stars bright in the too-early morning dark. There weren't too many people on the street, which worked perfectly in Dorian's books. The less people traffic to the construction sight the better.
Just a few blocks away from the Herald of Coffee was where The Bull's Chargers had set up shop; they were a small construction company that had been commissioned to remodel an old building. Dorian - well anyone at the Herald, really - had only met one of their members, but from what little the man had to say about the job thus far the building that was being worked on essentially had to be completely rebuilt from the ground up. Something about a crumbling foundation and bursting pipes and a nug infestation. Just outside of the building a mobile home had been quickly set up, clearly the Base of Operations.
As Dorian approached the mobile home, he could see a light on through one of the windows. He managed to stifle a breath of relief - Anne wouldn't have sent him out so early in the morning if someone wasn't going to be awake to receive the coffee and pastries, but knowing his luck he hadn't been one hundred percent. 'Must be a good thing,' he thought as he climbed the short steps up to the door and knocked, 'that this is a business district, what with all the noise they must make tearing everything apart before sane people hear their alarms go off.'
The wait for someone to get to the door was short, thankfully, and Dorian offered up Pleasant Smile #6 when his eyes landed on Thalia's crush. "Good morning," he greeted. He shrugged, dragging the man's somewhat confused eyes to the large bag over his shoulders. "All of us at the Herald thought you all might like a care package - fresh coffee and sweets straight from the oven."
The man's eyes cleared, and something of a grin twitched at his lips. "Oh, well, thanks," the man said, opening the door wider and stepping aside to let Dorian through. The inside was warm, with a large desk set up to one side, a couple of small sofas and chairs crammed into the corner, a long table just to the side of that, and a closed door just opposite the one he had just entered. Everything seemed cozy, even if the bright pink curtains over the windows were a bit of a brow raiser.
"You can set everything down on the table over there, if you'd like," the man said, closing the door and gesturing towards the table. "Do you need any help with that?"
"No, no, I've got it all covered," Dorian said as he set the bag down (shoulder screaming with relief). "I'm the one getting paid to do this, after all. Seems a bit greedy of you to take the gift and my job, doesn't it? You should even be thankful it was me delivering everything today. Our dear Thalia would have somehow managed to spill everything as soon as you opened the door. Wouldn't make for a very good care package."
"Right, though I would be surprised if she'd even make it all the way here without fumbling apart," the man said, voice wry with amusement.
A grin threatened to split Dorian's face as he untwirled his scarf and set his coat aside. Thalia would probably kill him, but... "Oh, she's a moderately competant employee, so long as a certain someone doesn't come up to her register and place an order for seven individuals."
He heard a cough, most likely an embarrassed one. "Ah, well. Thanks. Lemme know if you, erm, change your mind about needing help."
Dorain gave a hum of acknowledgement, mind already tuning out everything around him, and got to work, movements quick and efficient with practice. First, the jug of coffee, set up so that the drip was easily accessible. Then the cups, the sugar packets, stir sticks and creamers. A small container with actual half-n-half just to the side. Lids and cup sleeves stacked carefully on the other side of the coffee. The small platter with the pastries, still steaming, was laid out on the other end of the table. Next to that, a stack of plates and napkins, and a cup packed with packages of wrapped plastic ware.
It only took a few minutes to get everything ready, and Dorain leaned back with a critical eye to survey his work. 'Hmm, should I perhaps turn the tray, show off the twirl in the danishes? No, it's fine, the apple crumbles carry the eye around the display. Perhaps unstack the cups? Make them easier to grab? But what if they get knocked over, that would just annoy them...'
One of his hands had just reached up to finger the end of his mustache - a habit he was still working on curving - when sudden a very large, very heavy weight was draped across his back and shoulders.
Dorian stiffened, eyes wide and body suddenly leaning forward with the weight. 'What the--!?' Something close a squeak nearly escaped him, hands fumbling to catch the edge of the table in an attempt to support himself. Something close to a squeak did escape him when another weight suddenly covered the back of his head and ended in a rough point just before his hairline. 'WHAT THE--!?'
"Coffeeee..."
The weight on his back shifted, and Dorian felt his breath stutter out of his throat when a massive, scarred, grey hand reached over his shoulder and fumbled for the stack of cups on the table. 'Qunari?' his thought's sputtered, mind flailing in all directions. 'Is that a Qunari draped across my back?
'WHY IS THERE A QUNARI DRAPED ACROSS MY BACK.'
Dorian tried to straighten, hoping the man - definitely a man pressed against him - would take the hint and back the fuck off. He had no such luck. "Ex - Excuse me, sir - "
"Krem," the man rumbled behind him, and Dorian could feel more than he could hear it, close as they were, "It's too early for talking."
"What are you - get off me, you - "
"Oh, sh - Chief, I'm over here!"
The Chief paused, large hand around a single cup stalled in mid-air on it's path to the coffee, and Dorian could feel the weight shift. "...Huh?" the man said, voice confused and sleep rumpled, and why the man was even in the office when he wasn't even appropriately functional was beyond Dorian's mental capacity at the moment. "Krem? What are you... Then who is this?"
Dorian huffed, face burning and back and neck beginning to ache from the stress of fighting against the heaviness of the man leaning what felt like most of his weight on him into the table. "How about you get off me instead of asking questions to find out, you are heavy and much too close for personal comfort!" he snapped.
"Uh - right, sorry - " And the weight disappeared.
Dorian straightened instantly, whirling around to glare at the man. Only to pause and slowly lift his head, brow climbing into his hairline until he was finally able to catch the man's eye.
He had known, rationally, that Qunari were big. In Tevinter there was a single semester class that covered the basics of anatomy of other races, and Qunari got a special five week lesson. More than likely because of the stand-off that had been taking place in Seheron for the past several hundred years. The race were built large, their smallest usually ranging around the average height of humans and all of them with some variation of either grey or blue skin. And all of them with horns. Dorian had even seen a handful or two in his journey out of Tevinter, but none of them hand been more than a handful of inches taller than him, not that he had gotten close enough to truly gauge their height.
This Qunari, though, was possibly the definition of large. He easily topped seven feet, shoulders broad and arms thick, waist tapering a little - but Dorian was positive that, if he were to try and wrap his arms around the man, his hands would only just overlap. Two massive horns stuck out the sides his head, ridged and straight with the ends curled up, similar to that of a druffalo. A very terrifying druffalo.
And every inch of skin that Dorian could see was covered in scars. Some of them were white against the grey, some a shade of pale blue. A few were indents into flesh, others roped. There was even a dash of scarring over his lips, and a trail of a massive scar disappeared up into an eye patch over one eye. The other was a shade of dusty blue, crinkled in the corners and blinking down at him in confusion.
"Who are you?" the Qunari asked.
Dorian realized, suddenly, that he had been staring, and felt his face flush brilliantly. He glared, shoulders raising as a flash of embarrassment worked it's way into anger. "Who am I?" he asked, voice haughty, reaching up with a finger to poke the man in the chest. "That's what you're going to say? Not, perchance, an apology for nearly squashing me against the table, or for manhandling me so familiarly, or for mistaking me for the only other man in the office - or better yet, how about option D: All of the Above?"
The other man - Krem, if the Qunari was to be trusted, finally he knew the man's name - stepped up beside the large man and pressed a hand against a scarred shoulder, easing the suddenly grinning man back a few steps. He looked apologetic and exasperated. "I am so sorry about that," he said, and Dorian turned his glare on him. Krem winced. "Really - he must've thought I'd gone and gotten the coffee again, that's what usually wakes him up. He was in the other room."
"Wait." Dorian pressed his lips together, glancing between the two of them. "You mean to tell me that this, this brute, was sleeping here? That he works for the Chargers?"
Krem sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, 'brute' is a pretty apt description for him half the time. But he doesn't work for the Chargers. More like we work for him."
The Qunari stepped forward again, and the only reason Dorian didn't step back was because the table was right behind him. A smile was plastered to the man's face, eye squinting with the expression. "The Iron Bull, manager of The Bull's Chargers," he said, sticking out a hand. "Sorry about all that, usually I'm not awake until I get half of my first cup of coffee in me."
Dorian mustered up the will to shove his embarrassment into a box and the red in his cheeks back into the rest of his body. With a sniff he stretched out his own hand to shake - trying not to think about how the Qunari's hand practically engulfed his own. "Dorian Pavus. I work for the Herald of Coffee , where you apparently get your coffee from every morning."
Bull's smile widened, and Dorian felt a twinge of suspicion. "So. Now that we know each other's names, do you think we can do a repeat of that?"
"...Repeat?" His hand was still trapped in Bull's.
"Oh, I just couldn't help but notice that you fit pretty well against me - want to maybe try that again with not so many layers on?"
There was a beat of silence as Dorian did his best not to gape at the man, and Krem could be heard groaning into this hands. And then Dorian grit his teeth, and broke his own No Magic While Working policy. With vengeance.
Thalia thanked the lady that had just picked up her order with a smile and a wave. It was just a bit past opening, the people desperate for their cup of joe before work making their way quickly in and out of the Herald almost on automatic. Business hadn't quite picked up for the day yet - that usually didn't happen until a little after seven in the morning. She skipped back a few paces, hand snagging the cloth out of the bucket to wipe down the steamer. "Hey, Lil, do you think Dorian will get back soon?"
Lilith grunted, head stuck in the back of the display case as she fiddle with the fancy trays. "I dunno, why?"
Thalia hummed, scrubbing at the dried milk stuck to the wand. "No reason, just wondering."
Lilith paused, poking her head out to squint at her. Thalia squirmed, feeling her cheeks go pink. "You're going to bug him about your boyfriend, aren't you?"
"Wha - no, I - He's not my boyfriend!"
Her face was probably the exact shade of a beet. An extremely ripe beet. With a red light on it. Surrounded by red. Sometimes she hated her complexion.
Lilith snickered. "Fine, but you are going to ask about him, right?" She sat up a bit, looking over the counter and out the window. "Because I think that's Dorian right there."
Thalia's head whipped around to the look outside, her long braid of white hair smacking into the side of her face. Sure enough, Dorain was quickly striding across the street. her face split into a grin, and she threw the rag into the bucket - getting water all over the floor and counter - and leapt over the counter to race towards the door.
"Dorian's back!" she shouted, barely hearing Anne shout something in reply from the back office as she flung open the door. "My darling," she greeted, voice appropriately dramatic, "how I have missed you!"
Usually, when Thalia threw out a ridiculous line like that Dorian would call dramatically back to her, calling her Sweetheart or Precious Love or some other such twill that made Thalia need to smother down hysterical laughter, and race to embrace her. Once there was even a time when he dipped her down and they had shared the most horrifyingly awesome platonic kiss with tongue. The new guy had quit that day (he would've never lasted that long, anyway), and all of three seconds in the two had to stop because they were laughing so hard. Anne had only shaken her head with a smile and Lilith had gagged.
Today, however, Dorian had swept past her, stuttering out a quick thank you as he made a beeline for the storage room. Thalia blinked, arm still outstretched towards the street. She dropped it after a second, turning to stare after the man in confusion. "My darling?"
Even Lilith was staring after the man.
Dorian shuffled around in the storage room, something falling over with a curse (she assumed it was the Daily Special's sign, it always feel over when someone tried to put the catering bag away), and after a moment he stepped out, tying his apron back in place.
His face was pink and his hair was a wind-swept mess.
"Uh, Dorian, you okay?" she asked, closing the door. "You, uh, look a little..."
"Yes, yes, I'm fine, just - " Dorian huffed, hand coming up to tug on one of the hoops in his ears - Oooh, not a good sign, he only did that when he was in trouble. "Where's Anne? It's just her, right? The manager's not here yet?"
"Still just me," Anne said as she stepped out of the back, frown in place. "Why? What's wrong?"
"You didn't kill anybody, did you?" Lilith asked, sounding only too interested in the possibility.
Dorian winced, and Thalia worried for a moment that he had killed someone. "No, nobody's dead." Well, that's good. "But I might've done something that could very well end up with me as such."
That's not good.
Anne blinked, brow furrowing. Thalia knew that meant the woman was absolutely bewildered. "What could you have possibly done?" Anne asked.
Dorian mumbled something, face cheeks turning ruddy. 'Oh, shit, he's mumbling,' Thalia thought. 'Did he set a nug on fire?'
"Sorry, I didn't catch that."
"I...might've electrocuted the manager of The Bull's Chargers."
Anne stared at Dorian, face blank. Thalia's mouth was gaping wide open, eyes the size of the cinnamon rolls that had been pulled out of the over just that morning. 'He set a person on fire.'
Lilith hooted, smacking a hand onto the countertop. "Awesome!" She skipped forward, face splitting with the size of her grin. "I so wish I could have seen that!"
Thalia had to actually slap a hand to her face to get her mouth to close. "Why would you - I thought you didn't use magic while working?"
Dorian winced again. "Well, yes, I just - I snapped, I suppose you could say. Though I know that's no excuse."
Anne pursed her lips in thought, perfectly manicured fingers tapping against them. "What exactly happened that you broke your No Magic While Working Policy?" she asked, voice mild yet just on the side of concerned. If Thalia hadn't known better she would've said the woman didn't care.
"Well..."
By the end of the story, Thalia was trying very hard not to match Lilith's shrieks of laughter. She could just imagine Dorian's face when the guy gave his rather terrible attempt at flirting, and while Dorian was usually quite chill when men and women flirted with him, his mustache tended to twitch in time with his eye the more ridiculous the attempt was. As it was, she had to press both hands to her mouth keep her smile hidden.
"I see," was Anne's only response, seated in one of the booths and hands placed primly in her lap. Dorian was seated across from her, a cup of tea that the supervisor had made for him clutched in his hands. He looked miserable. Thalia felt bad for him.
But he had electrocuted Krem's manager. So not too bad.
Dorian groaned and bent over his tea. "I'll put my coat back on and leave," he said, shoulders drooping.
Anne frowned at him. "Why would you do that?"
The Tevinter glanced up at her. "Because I used magic on a customer? Because I attacked them? Because I was supposed to be giving them a care package and left one of them drooling on the carpet instead?"
Anne's lips quirked up. "Please tell me you didn't actually call it a care package when you took it over there."
"I'm serious, Anne!"
The woman shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Take a few minutes to drink your tea and you can get back to work," she said, standing.
Thalia scowled. But he electrocuted Krem's manager. He should at least do dishes.
"But," Dorian started, baffled, "shouldn't you be taking me off the schedule? Telling me to go home? Firing me?"
Lilith barked out a laugh. "I broke an entire tray of scones on someone's head just last week, on purpose - and I still feel no remorse." She smirked, waving a hand down her front. "And yet, I'm still at work."
"Mostly because I convinced our HR department that the world would be a much safer place where at least one person could keep an eye on her for fourty hours a week," Anne said mildly, patting the girl on the shoulder as she made her way back to the office. "But, if it makes you feel better, you can always wash the dishes at the end of your shift."
Thalia pumped a fist. Justice!