Spellbound

33. Slave of Your Heart

A plate with dates sat between the two men lounging on the bed. The silken sheets were tangled around their limbs, letting a leg peek here, a shoulder there. Just enough skin to give their nudity away to observers was exposed. Weightless on Lavellan's skin, the silk cradled him like it would cradle the statue of a god.

"How is Fenris doing?"

Lavellan looked at Goldie as she slid through his fingers languidly. She had welcomed him back, not as bashful about her missing him as a certain mage was.

"Well, I'd say. I saw him not bathed in blood only once last week and that was when Hawke picked him up early to go on another mad rampage. His temper is a useful weapon and his new friends help him deal. He laughs a lot at Hawke's jokes. In general, his mood got lighter since Danarius died."

Satisfied, Dorian popped another date between his lips. When Lavellan's eyes got stuck on them, a knowing grin curled devilishly on Dorian's features.

"I would have needed to have a word with him if your sacrifice hadn't been worth it. I was terrified of losing you. Not once did I forget how he ruined my third most favourite black tunic."

Lavellan scoffed.

"Glad I am worth that much to you."

At Dorian's solemn nod, Lavellan snatched a date as well.

"Few of my friends reach that level."

They snickered before Lavellan rolled onto his back and stretched out. Goldie slithered away and instead of her, Dorian's hand came to caress Lavellan's shoulder idly. Old scars stood out white against his skin and Dorian followed their random lines with reverence.

"I have a favour to ask," Lavellan began. His lazy eyes watched Dorian perk up. His moustache coiled with his wicked grin.

"Does it have to do with me inquisiting you again? Or perhaps you wish to switch sometime? I'm willing and I look great in ropes."

Lavellan rolled his eyes, though he filed away that information for later.

"No, you fool. I came here with the help of Varric's friend Bianca."

"The crossbow?"

"No, a different Bianca. He swears the crossbow isn't named after her, but they seem very close. And she builds weapons like Bianca the crossbow, so who knows what Varric is hiding. So, this Bianca is a dwarven merchant. She offered to bring me back home if I ended up killing you and had nothing to do here."

Dorian's eyes drew together.

"Refreshing."

"I should tell her we made up. If you want me to stay, I will stay. Until Varric comes by the next time. Or the time after."

Surprise overcame Dorian's features only for a moment, then he disguised his relief with another grin. As he hovered over Lavellan, Lavellan smirked up at him to pull him closer by the back of his head. Their foreheads aligned as they breathed in tandem.

"You'll stay for however long I seduce you?"

"Keep coming up with new things, or else I'll get bored," Lavellan threatened, but Dorian made an arrogant noise.

"Piece of cake, as you'd say in the south."

They parted again, and Dorian happily ate his dates. Their earlier laziness dropped since the mage was thrilled to spend time with Lavellan again. The Dalish could see the gears turning in his head as he came up with a hundred fun and or sexy ideas to pass their days.

"Can you send a messenger? She's in Minrathous."

"I can. Write your message on a piece of paper and I shall have a crow carry it to her. I'm sure the telekinetic method mages use would scare a dwarf shitless." When Dorian rose from the bed, he threw on his robe and handed Lavellan the material to write. While Dorian got ready, the elf sat in the bed and tried to remember how the language of the humans was written. He spoke it more than he wrote in it, but it was a good middle ground between Elvish and Dwarven.