Little But Not Less | ✓

Soporati

Dorian collapsed elegantly on a cloth he had laid out on a fallen tree trunk, sighing heavily as he sunk into the shade. He rubbed his eyes, the day impossibly bright in the Emerald Graves. Cassandra was sitting on another stump by the water, scrubbing Maker knows what off her armour, mouth set in a deep scowl. He heard an emphatic disgusted noise escape her pursed lips as she dunked her hands into the stream, the water around them turning a murky red colour. Varric was perched on top of a mound of rocks, quill scratching on the rough pages of a leather-bound book. Every now and then he would look up at Cassandra and catch her staring, causing the Seeker to hastily turn away with reddened cheeks. 'Varric must be writing the next chapter of Swords and Shields,' Dorian thought, rolling his eyes. How anyone could enjoy that syrupy mess of a novel was beyond him.

The group had been trekking across the Emerald Graves for just shy of a week, closing rifts and eliminating Red Templar camps. Dorian had been eager to get out of Skyhold and stretch his limbs, his dimly lit nook in the library starting to close in on him. And being able to spend time with Gael without the prying eyes of snickering Orlesian nobles and suspicious Chantry sisters gazing upon their every move. Dorian wasn't the only one who noticed that the Inquisitor was spending more and more time in the library, claiming a forgotten pile of books as a makeshift chair in Dorian's little space. When Dorian first joined the Inquisition, Lavellan had almost gone out of his way to avoid Dorian, only speaking to him curtly about Tevinter, Dorian regrettably causing the elf to storm off after their heated chat about slavery.

But now, for reasons Dorian could not begin to fathom, the elf had started visiting his area of Skyhold at least once a day, oftentimes more. Whenever he could spare a moment from running around all corners of Skyhold, Gael was found sitting in Dorian's nook with his fingers eagerly combing through arcane texts, excitedly catching Dorian's attention when he found something interesting. He would leap up, lips moving wildly about fade theory, and plop himself next to Dorian so he could point out passages in his texts. Dorian had been shocked speechless on multiple accounts the first time this happened; the fact that the elf could read, the fact that the elf liked to read, the fact that the elf was passionate about magic, and the fact that this passion had made the mage overcome his blatant distaste for Dorian enough that he was smiling and leaning into him.

"Are you even listening to me, Dorian?" Lavellan frowned, lowering the book in his hands. "If I'm bothering you, I can go and re-"

"No!" Dorian shouted, causing Lavellan to jump. "No, I mean, well, no. It's perfectly fine, I was just.. lost in thought for a moment. You were talking about primal magic, yes?" Dorian could feel his cheeks heating, but knew that his tanned skin would disguise most of the blush.

"Lost in thought about what?" Lavellan asked, putting the book aside, eyes locked onto Dorian's curiously. His lips then quirked into an almost invisible smirk, but his eyes shone. "Me?" The word was barely a breath, Lavellan's vallaslin wrinkling as he raised a brow. Dorian felt his mouth matching Lavellan's in a grin.

"Just surprised that I have met someone who is as passionate about magic as me," Dorian replied, pointing to the book on Lavellan's lap. "And I didn't know that you could..."

"Read?" Lavellan finished for him, causing Dorian to nod. "My Keeper taught me how to read a little Common Tongue, and whenever we passed by human cities I would try to get my hands on as many books as I could to teach myself. Mostly about magic, of course, but reading was always a hobby of mine... though no one else in my Clan felt the same way. Hunting was a more popular hobby, as you can imagine."

"But you're quite apt at that too, I've noticed," Dorian chuckled. "You ought to be, considering you manage to kill someone just walking to the dining hall."