Little But Not Less | ✓

Adamantly Alone - Part II

Dorian sighed as he saw the light in Gael's chamber snuff out, plunging the small arched window into darkness. Getting up from the bench, strategically placed within view of the Inquisitor's chambers, Dorian brushed the dust off his leathers before trudging back to his own bed, the room cold and dark. Sending a small tendril of flame into the fireplace, the logs quickly catching alight, Dorian began to unstrap his complex chest piece. 

Slinging his clothes across an armchair by the fire, Dorian poured himself a goblet of sweet wine, swirling the contents briefly before giving it a deep sniff. The pungent aroma filled his nostrils, and Dorian found himself momentarily at ease. The effects of the drink did not last long, however, as Dorian found himself sitting at the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

Dorian was no fool, but he was a coward. Adamant had made him face things that he hadn't wanted to face, that he wasn't ready to face. When Gael hadn't come out after him, the white-haired elf not emerging from that twisted abyss, Dorian had felt something he had never felt before, the feeling still thundering inside him. Dread, fear, desperation - it was a chorus of screams that Dorian couldn't drown out, no matter how many bottles he drained or how hard he tried to run away from it. Somehow, Gael always managed to catch up to him and remind him of everything that he could lose.

Everything he could not bear to lose.

Dorian felt the wine he had just downed begin to rise up his throat, searing its way up his oesophagus. Behind his tightly shut eyelids, the terrible events at Adamant continued to plague him. The thought of never seeing Gael's tiny, beautiful, miraculous frame again sent Dorian into a downward spiral, and for a moment he had felt like he had already lost everything. It wasn't until Gael's body, beaten and worn, had tumbled out of the rift in a heap of green and red that he realised how much he cradled in his hands, and how much could just as easily slip through his fingers.

Dorian's newly admitted reliance on the elf scared him, and the only thing he could do to alleviate his fears was to push the Inquisitor away, even if it hurt them both in the process. Dorian had long accepted that romantic relationships would never end well, and the trend wouldn't change even if he were to pursue something with the Inquisitor. If it were doomed from the start, then it was better to step away before it could consume him.

Dorian felt his resolve tremble as Gael's hurt face clouded his vision, the mage groaning as he began to pour himself another cup of wine, pausing before taking a swig directly from the large bottle, the goblet forgotten. Nursing the bottle to his chest, Dorian climbed onto his bed, leaning his head against the frame as he willed himself to forget, forget, forget.

"Get yourself together, Pavus," Dorian chided himself, the sweet drink suddenly bitter on his tongue as he took another hefty sip, praying that the alcohol will hit him soon.

~~~

Dorian rubbed his chin in contemplation as his eyes raked over the books and tomes in the library, trying to find something that could disclose the true identity of Corypheus, or at least offer a glimmer of hope in the dismal reality they all lived in. Dorian was so engrossed in the poorly organised shelves that he didn't notice Gael's light steps stop behind him, the young man clearing his throat cautiously. Dorian bristled, wanting to turn to the elf and drink in his appearance, but kept his eyes trained on the novels before him, their titles blurring. Swallowing to calm his nerves, Dorian spoke before Gael could, wanting to cut off the elf's dulcet voice before it could wreak havoc in his head.

"You have remarkably little here on early Tevinter history," Dorian said, voice dripping with fake calmness, Gael shifting uncomfortably at the impersonal tone. Gael opened his mouth to say something, but Dorian's own moved like wildfire, his eyes never leaving the shelves as his fingers brushed past the spines of dusty books.