Spellbound

28. Journey to Kirkwall

The Bull, Varric, and Fenris took turns coaching their cart. When Lavellan protested that he wanted to partake in the workload while the others stretched out, Fenris shoved him back down on the bench next to Dorian.

"No, you rest. I haven't recovered yet from seeing you ground to dust and even if some mysterious magic tricks saved you, I would rather you take it slow." His white hair glowed in the night like the stars as he took over from Varric.

With a grunt, the dwarf dropped next to Bull, and they shared a bottle of alcohol that had been one of the few personal items Bull had brought on the trip. Together with his ax and a spare pair of pants 'in case of a dragon emergency.'

While they talked about dragons and one of Varric's friends who was just as obsessed with them as Bull, Lavellan leaned against Dorian's side. The mage had offered his cape as a blanket and shrouded them in cosy warmth in the chilly night. Lavellan never wanted to move away from his grip as he sleepily listened to his companions droning on.

Isabela sat by Fenris' side, talking to him in her smoky voice as the elf pretended to ignore her. Lavellan knew he listened. Whenever Isabela focused on the rest of the group to drop raunchy comments to Bull's suggestions, Fenris stared at her lip piercing, at her dark hair, or at the plush of her bosom in her corset.

Dorian nuzzled Lavellan's temple, breathing in his scent. Neither of them minded the shrewd grins on Bull's and Varric's faces as they watched them woo each other.

"You can sleep if you want to. Kirkwall is far and I will wake you once it's break time."

Lavellan grumbled, but buried his head deeper in Dorian's shoulder. A mischievous tongue licked over the tip of his ear, making him flinch.

"I slept for so long already."

"You will be shocked to hear people do that every day," Dorian deadpanned. Lavellan nudged his side without heat and Dorian giggled as he bundled him tighter into the cape.

"Rest however long you need. Our pilgrimage is long enough that no amount of sleep will get you through it."

"And here I am, making that pilgrimage every other week to see you," Varric spoke up. While Dorian explained his exquisite company was one the dwarf couldn't resist, Lavellan let his eyes slip shut. With Isabela's voice droning on through his sleep, he dozed for a while. The cart jumped and jerked under their bodies, but Dorian's body caught most of the disruption to cradle Lavellan's exhausted body.

Even after all the sleep from Vivienne's healing, he needed time to recover. He hoped his bones wouldn't ache again by the time he woke from the rough ride.

After some hours out cold, Dorian woke him for their break, as promised. They all left the cart to get circulation back into their legs and eat. While Bull disappeared between the trees to relieve his bladder, Lavellan found himself fascinated by the easy friendship between Isabela and Varric.

"So, you belong to the group of - what do you call them, Varric - troublemakers Varric enjoys hanging out with in Kirkwall?"

Isabela grinned, prior demure demeanour exchanged for the coarse confidence of a pirate. She took a sip of her drink and wiped her chin with the back of her hand before she beckoned at Lavellan.

"And you are Dorian's little pet. You're sweet, I can't blame him."

Flattered by her compliment, Lavellan lowered his eyes. Dorian's indignant gasp by his side had the flames in their midst spark.

"When she says it, it's alright?" He squawked, hurt in his pride. When Varric leaned back with a smug smile, Isabela rolled her coal-rimmed eyes at the dramatic mage.