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The first time Adaar tells him she loves him, they’re in the Herald’s Rest and Dorian has just announced that he’s going to turn in for the night. By now all of the mage’s closest friends know that ‘turn in’ really means ‘mess around with The Iron Bull’, but Adaar decides not to give him a hard time tonight.
Instead she replies with an unceremonious “Okay! Night, love you.” before turning back to her mug of ale and the drunken table dancing currently happening across the room.
Casual confessions of love are nothing new to the Inquisitor, and thus she doesn’t even register what she’s just said until she sees Dorian freeze out of the corner of her eye. She’s about to turn and apologize when Dorian gives her a close-lipped smile and a nod and turns on his heel to leave the tavern.
****
Shit. Adaar thinks as she stumbles carefully through the sparring ring on her way to her quarters. She hadn’t meant to make Dorian uncomfortable, but she couldn’t just keep her love for anyone to herself. Every day she told her friends she loved them in different ways. Josephine responded well when Adaar completed a task for her without her asking, Bull felt loved when she made time to spar with him throughout the week, and Sera beamed at words of encouragement. But in addition to all of that, she was always sure to say the words “I love you.”
Long ago she had learned the hard way that there isn’t always time to tell the people you love exactly what they mean to you. She vowed to herself then to never make that mistake again, and so far she’s kept it. But now under the judging stare of the crescent moon, Adaar thinks it might have been for the best to keep her feelings to herself this time.
****
The next morning as Adaar makes her way up the stairs from Solas’ work area on her way to Leliana’s desk she sends up a plea to any gods listening: Don’t let Dorian be in the library. It’s a stupid thought, Adaar knows. She needs to confront the hole she’s dug head on, be a woman, blah blah blah. Frankly Adaar thinks she’d much rather avoid her friend for as long as possible and then maybe never bring up the moment again.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be her luck. She can make out his familiar form scanning a shelf of books, the buckles of his clothing shining in the light coming through the little window in the nook he’s all but claimed. Thankfully, as long as he’s perusing the shelf that means his back is to her and she has the chance to slip through the library unnoticed. She really shouldn’t be a coward but… Adaar decides she doesn’t really care.
She’s only made it to the second alcove before she hears her name called in that familiar Tevinter accent. The Inquisitor stops in her tracks and turns to see a small smile on Dorian’s face as he waves her over. It doesn’t seem forced, which makes Adaar think that maybe the mage has decided to forget about last night as well. When she reaches him he hands her a fairly thin book titled The Way of Dragons: A Study in the Behavior and Habits of High Dragons.
“I thought you might like to read up on this seeing as I’m quite sure the dragon in the Hinterlands was not the last we’ll be slaying after you and Bull’s enthusiasm over it.” Dorian explains with a smirk. “This is the shortest volume I found; it’s actually quite interesting.”
Adaar finds herself smiling at her friend’s thoughtfulness. Maybe, Adaar thinks to herself, this is Dorian’s way of showing love.
“Thanks,” she says. “I’ll give it a look over. If the catchy title is anything to go by I’m sure it’s very gripping.”
Dorian snorts. “Not the most exciting material, no, but still better than tending to another Orlesian noble’s whims and being subjected to the open-mouthed gaping at the qunari Inquisitor, no doubt.”
“That’s true.” Adaar concedes and tucks the book into the pouch she wears at her waist.
An awkward silence, then. Adaar fiddles with her fingers and entwines her hands nervously in front of her. Dorian shuffles his feet and pointedly looks anywhere but at the Inquisitor. Adaar thinks that it feels immature and ridiculous for them to react this way, yet everything within her screams to just excuse herself to Leliana’s desk. Instead she unclasps her hands, takes a deep breath, and says “Dorian, about what I said last night-“
“No, I… I’m afraid I made it terribly awkward though that was not my intent.” Dorian interrupts, now looking at his feet. “It’s just…” He sighs and lifts his head to look Adaar in the eyes. “I don’t believe anyone has ever said that to me so casually, nor so sincerely. It simply caught me off guard. I need you to know, though, that I love you as well.” He lets out a little giggle, then, and Adaar thinks she can feel her heart melting over the fondness she holds for this man. “That’s not something I expected to find myself saying at any point in my life, let alone to a qunari.”
Adaar smiles and teases. “What in Thedas would younger Dorian say?”
“I’m quite certain he’d request that I be sent to the infirmary for head trauma.” Dorian replies with that familiar smirk on his face. “And if he knew about the Bull and I, well… I’m not sure he would make it to the infirmary himself before keeling over.”
“Well then it’s a good thing he grew to be more open minded, because life without his friendship is not a life I want to envision.” Adaar says in a softer tone, and she knows Dorian can tell just what he means to her by his lopsided grin.
“I can say quite the same.” Dorian says.
There is another moment of silence then, though this one holds the comfort of people who know exactly where they stand with each other. It is only broken by Adaar’s pleased announcement of “Drinks on me tonight.” as she lightly slaps Dorian’s shoulder.
“Oh, you’ll regret that offer.” He laughs and turns back to his bookshelf with a smile.