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Nightmare: Greetings, Dorian…It is Dorian, isn’t it? For a moment, I mistook you for your father.
Dorian settled into his chair with a fresh glass of wine, "I think the matter will be resolved shortly."
Another day, another tiring drama of the Magisterium. It was patently ridiculous that so much of his time was spent appealing to the petty egos of old men. When he had accepted his father's seat he had expected there to be far more fiery speeches and late nights pouring over wording and, most excitingly, duels.
The truth, as it often was, was far more banal. Fewer fiery speeches and more lectures no one listened to. Most of the actual writing of laws was done by clerks and lawyers. And as for the duels - well, he still got to do a few of those, but not nearly as many as he would like. While Dorian had no doubt he would be victorious against any of his witless co-workers, now he had to think of such things like appearances and who would be upset, and who would replace the person he summarily removed from existence.
Frankly it was exhausting as it was boring.
"It's not Rabira I'm worried about, Dorian." Mae took her seat across the desk from him, setting her own glass of wine down, "He can only cause so much trouble. There's something else I needed to discuss with you."
"I would hope so, Rabira hardly justifies a house call. Not that you need an excuse to visit, my dear Maevaris, you are always a welcome visitor," and his smile was even genuine when he said that. Sometimes he wondered if he had any of those left, so often was he forced to put on a game face in his daily life.
She did not meet it with her own smile and that was the first sign Dorian had that he was not going to like this conversation, "Come now, it can't be all that bad, Mae."
"There is a rumor going around Minrathous about you, Dorian-"
Dorian let out a snort and waved his hand holding his wine carelessly, "that's hardly new, I'm a subject of many rumors! I like it that way. I have a scrap book where I collect them all and read over them with a girlish glee."
"It's about The Iron Bull, Dorian."
That stopped him short. Dorian set his glass down on his desk and sat up straight, with the kind of posture his mother had spent years trying to beat into him, "What is the rumor and who is spreading it?" he asked with a deadly calm.
Mae's look of sympathy did not make Dorian feel any better, "They don't know his name, but there is no denying someone knows something of the truth. They are saying during break you abscond away to a summer home to meet with a Qunari."
"Meet with?" He asked with a humorless laugh, "I imagine they used far more descriptive words than that, Mae. Tell me, are they accusing me of just sodomy or is it treason as well?"
"From what Abrexius tells me it depends on who is sharing the rumor and whether they are just interested in lascivious gossip or if they are more invested in your downfall."
"*Our* downfall, you mean," Dorian said sharply, leaning forward. Mae didn't wince or give any sign that his words hit home, she was far too well trained for that, but they both knew he was right, "If they choose to pursue accusations of treason it would drag down all of the Lucerni, not just myself."
"So you understand why we must treat this seriously," his friend said with an odd sense of peace he did not feel matched the conversation topic.
"Who was it? What is it they know? There's been rumors before, how are these any different?" His reckless abandon with men in the South had not been without consequence. When Dorian returned there had been any number of whispers about the prodigal son of House Pavus and a massive Qunari in the Inquisition. He had laughed them off, confirming and denying in turns as if the whole matter amused him.
But what happened in the South was one thing; an aberration, a bit of meaty gossip about the ever irreverent Dorian Pavus. If it was thought that Dorian was actively sleeping with a qunari as a Magister of the Imperium - the consequences would be far more severe.
"I haven't poked around too much. That in itself is a reaction. You need to decide how you wish to proceed with this first," Mae took a sip of her wine. Her expression was not unkind, but it held none of the friendly mirth their banter usually held, even over politics.
"How can I choose to respond if I don't know the scope of it, Mae? Is this someone just dragging up rumors from my time in the Inquisition and applying it to my movements today? Or-"
"These don't seem like just passing rumors, Dorian. Abrexius suspects the source to be Plaguleia or someone close to her."
Dorian snarled and pushed himself to his feet, suddenly no longer able to sit still. "Plaguleia! Just last session she was practically begging for my intervention for her amendments to the spending bill. That opportunistic little bitch, I am going to bring ruin to her house and all of those of her name."
Mae remained in her seat, watching him walk back and forth, "We don't know for sure it was her, but you know as well as I that she has some sway. Others will listen to her."
"Then we must act fast. What are you thinking?" he stopped himself from slamming his hands down on his desk, slowing the movement to something far more controlled, "We could bribe her but that would all but confirm the veracity of the rumors. I know she's been a useful ally at times but surely we could find someone to take her place, someone with less audacity-" he stopped short as he took in Mae's expression. She clearly had something to say.
"What is it? Tell me there isn't something worse," he asked, dread laced through his voice.
Mae cleared her throat and gestured to the chair beside her, "Sit down, Dorian. I think there is another option we should discuss."
Dorian flopped down into the chair next to Mae's, body language just loose and casual enough to belie the obedience of the action, "What other option could there possibly be?"
Mae was his dear friend - one of his closest friends, one of the few people in Minrathous he was able to fully trust. Their bond was unshakable, built on shared passions and goals and grief. That was the only reason he didn't react physically to her next words.
"Perhaps," his dear friend said, reaching out to rest a hand on his, "this is an opportunity to live openly. Perhaps we don't deny it. We don't squash it."
Dorian looked down at her hand on his, then back up at her. He didn't even raise his voice, "Have you lost your mind?"
"Dorian-"
"Absolutely not!" He was out of his seat in an explosion of motion, the heavy wooden chair falling backwards with a loud crash, "It is out of the question. How could you even suggest such a thing! Don't deny it- shall I just stroll to the middle of the congress and announce, don't worry my dear fellows, the qunari I bed is not of the Qun anymore! No treason here, I just simply can't get enough of his very large cock!"
Mae rolled her eyes and sat back, the purse of her lips taking on an unamused slant, "Yes, obviously that was going to be my suggestion, Dorian, clearly our only options are making this go away and giving explicit details on the Magisterium floor. Are you done with the dramatics?"
"Oh, I have barely begun with the dramatics, Maevaris," Dorian replied with a bitter laugh.
"Times have changed-"
"Not that much-"
"And," she raised her voice over his interjection, "I see how it weighs on you. Being apart from him. If I could have just one more day with Thorold-"
Dorian made a rude noise while he began to pace once more, "This is not about you and Thorold. Acknowledging Bull would be a distraction, another way for our enemies to attack us. Thorold may not have been human, but he wasn't a qunari. He had the weight of the Ambassadoria behind him," he spun on his heel, voice rising with each crossing of the room, "And! Maker forbid it was discovered what his role was before he left the Qun- Mae, the Lucerni would not recover from this."
"The Lucerni is more than just your reputation, Dorian," Mae replied, hands folded in her lap.
"No, it's the reputation of many brave souls who are making sacrifices every day to try and make Tevinter a better place. And you suggest I allow my own distractions drag them down. I will not allow myself to threaten all that we worked for," He stopped again, this time not slowing his hand when he brought it to his desk.
Neither Mae nor Dorian flinched at the crack of it, but Mae looked thoroughly unimpressed.
"Is that what The Iron Bull is to you, Dorian? A distraction? Something dragging you down?"
He blanched at the accusation, bright and painful anger roiling in his stomach, "Of course not! It's also for him that I cannot do this thing. The target it would put on his back- he's survived so much already, I will not let him be hurt in my name."
Mae laughed at him, and it was not a question that it was directed at him, "That's a load of shit, Pavus. Being with him at all is enough to make him a target. Evil acts thrive in the dark, bringing this to the light would only serve to better protect him."
"Like it protected Thorold?" Dorian shot back before immediately wishing he could unsay those words. Her expression shuttered from the blow he should have never thrown, "Mae, I apologize, that was out of line-"
"Yes, it was," she said quietly, "But forgiveness is not needed. It is a valid point. But believe me when I say every moment I had of loving him openly, of not being ashamed. It was worth it."
"I am not ashamed of The Iron Bull," He said sharply, defenses snapping back into place.
"Aren't you? Isn't what this is all is about? Fearing what others will say and think about you and how that will affect your political aspirations? You are just like your father, Dorian."
The rage that filled him was so white hot it tipped back into cold. Ice in his veins, flames upon his face, he spun back around to face her, "How dare you. How dare you, Mae. We are nothing alike- I'm doing this to protect Bull, to protect our future, Tevinter's future-"
"How is that any different? Dorian, you left Tevinter because you wanted to live your truth-"
"I left Tevinter because he wanted to use blood magic on me to make me 'normal'," the words came out in a hiss, not shouted, never loud. A secret that remained hidden for years but ever present somewhere deep in Dorian's guts, never letting him be. He hadn't spoken of it for years. Not since he revealed it to the Inquisitor and, a few months later, the Bull.
Maevaris didn't even try to hide her shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, "He didn't."
"Oh," Dorian leaned towards her, the twist of his lips forming into something mean, "He did, Mae. Or he tried, at least, and that is the legacy he left me. That's the legacy you throw in my face."
"Dorian," She stood then, causing him to recoil despite the lack of hostility in the movement. Maybe because of it, "Dorian, I am so sorry."
He quickly moved away before she could try to reach out to him, "Don't be. It's fine. I mean, it's not, but it is what it is." Dorian leaned against the desk, his back to her. It was an insult as much as it was a sign of trust. He tilted his head a bit, glancing at her over his shoulder, "That doesn't leave this room."
She gave him a look in response, "Don't insult me."
"Why not? I rather think it's my turn," he said, knowing he was being a brat and not caring in the least.
Mae walked around the overturned chair to lean against the desk next to him. They were lucky it was a rather sturdy, heavy thing.
"I'm not trying to hurt you, Dorian. I want to see you happy. And while one man's happiness is not more important than a free Tevinter, I do not believe your suffering is required for it."
He grunted in response, folding his arms over his chest and tucking his chin in. Dorian gathered his thoughts for a moment, the smothering weight of sadness replacing the bright flame of his anger, "I think perhaps you are right, Mae. I haven't told anyone about what happened because I wished to preserve his reputation. The reputation of House Pavus. "
"You didn't want to be associated with blood mages. It makes sense. It would hurt your cause," she said gently.
"I didn't want him to be called a maleficar. Even though he was. Or would have been," he stared at the pattern of carpet, following the complicated swirls and floral flow of the design.
"You didn't want him to be a maleficar. He was your father," She reached over to squeeze his arm, "Dorian, I truly did not mean to drag this all up. You are not your father."
"Aren't I though? You're right. I actively sweep my dirty truths under the carpet in order to save face. And yes, I am trying to protect The Iron Bull, but I can't pretend that's the only reason I keep it hidden. I treat him as an inconvenience. What a farce. What a failure," He shook his head, arms tightening around himself.
"Your fears aren't unfounded, Dorian. I am not going to lie and say you aren't selfish, we both know that's not true at times," she nudged his arm playfully, "But not when it comes to the big picture. Your heart is in the right place. And openly loving a qunari - openly admitting you have a heart - that is a opening yourself up for all sorts of trouble in Tevinter. But the movement is larger than any one man. And you deserve happiness, as does your amatus. Together you could weather the storm."
Dorian didn't respond to her. He couldn't find the words. They stood together in silence for a few moments more before Mae stood up straight, "I'll leave you to your thoughts. Think on it. I know whatever you decide will be the right decision for now. There is no telling what the future holds."
Dorian reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently, "Thank you, Mae."
She squeezed it back before letting go, "Talk to him, Dorian."
With that parting message she swept out of the room, leaving Dorian alone in a world turned upside down. The night was quiet but his mind was not. Racing through every possible decision, ever possible outcome. He went through his nightly routine mechanically, barely conscious of his actions at all. Finish his letters. Say good evening to the staff and dismiss them for the night. Check in with his guard detail. Go through his nightly ablutions and prepare for bed.
It was if Dorian blinked and it was well past midnight, his entire night gone. He sat on his bed with an open bottle of wine, not even bothering with glasses. The vintage wasn't worth the effort. Dorian could barely taste it anyway.
What would it mean to tell the world about himself and The Iron Bull? Did the Bull even want that? Oh, Dorian knew he said he did, but how could he possibly know what that would entail. How could Dorian ask him to leave the Chargers, leave his family to come to what little life he could offer in Minrathous? He would be in danger with every step he took. A life of watching his back, a life of being stared at, mocked, jeered at, objectified. He would have no friends in this city beyond those Dorian had, and Dorian had far too few.
The Iron Bull reduced to a beloved bird in a cage just so Dorian could thumb his nose at his father beyond the grave.
Or perhaps that was just the cowardice speaking. A desperate attempt to find any excuse to not change things, to cling to the status quo, to not threaten all that he had worked for.
He leaned over to his side table and pulled out a lacquered box, setting it on his bed. He ran his fingers along the carved edge before opening it, exposing the large dragon tooth inside. Dorian had worn it proudly while with the Inquisition. These days it was a little too inconspicuous. He had a piece of it shaved off and set into a ring so that he could always have a part of Bull with him. He had worried The Iron Bull would be insulted, but when he showed him Bull had just given him a smile and said it looked wonderful on him. And then asked if he ever jerked himself off while wearing it.
Which was neither here nor there.
With a heavy sigh Dorian shifted to lay back against his abundance of over stuffed feather pillows. He brought one hand up to a pedant he never took off, with two stones of immense value to any who might know of their capability and even more value to Dorian personally.
He drew his finger along it, activating the magic it contained, "Amatus?"
There was barely a moments pause before a deep honeyed voice came in response, "Hey, Kadan, I was just thinking about you."
Dorian closed his eyes, drinking in that voice.
Tell him. He thought. Ask him what he wants. Tell him everything you're scared of, everything you hope for
"Kadan?" The Iron Bull sounded concerned when no response from Dorian was forthcoming, "You okay? Is something going on?"
Say it. Say it, you coward.
"No, no, "Dorian said, opening his eyes and staring blankly towards his ceiling, "I just wanted to hear your voice."