Dragon Age Inquisition: The Legacy of Dorian Pavus

69: Compelled

Dorian

After repeated attempts to free his bound wrists, he'd laid back on the bed trying to come up with some kind of plan. Frustrated by his lack of options, he'd only succeeded in giving himself a headache and had closed his eyes, his body and mind exhausted from lack of nourishment and promptly fell asleep.

When next he opened his eyes, he couldn't remember anything. He blinked in the dim light of the room, confused by his surroundings. Where was he? What had happened? The last thing he could recall was waking in a carriage bound for Tevinter. Was he ill? Had he been sick? For clearly he was no longer on the road, but in a house somewhere.

A sound drew his attention and he looked up to see Solas enter the room, a concerned look on his face. He smiled and crossed the room, lighting several candles along the far wall as he did.

"Ah good. You're awake." He said. "I trust you're feeling better?"

"Better?" He echoed, rising to throw his legs over the edge of the bed. A pain in his wrist drew his attention and he frowned at it. Had something happened to his wrists? They felt as though they were inflamed. He rubbed them absently, but could detect no injury there.

"Yes. You've had a very long day. You fell ill on our journey here and have been asleep off and on for the past two days."

"Two days?" He asked, feeling as dense as a small child.

"Here." Solas said, placing a tray on a nearby table. "I've brought you something to eat. You need to regain your strength now that the fever has passed. You have an important banquet to attend this evening."

The smell of food hit his senses, his stomach growling in response to the food as Solas' words faded. He crossed to the table and began eating as though he had never tasted anything so wonderful before. Sated, he turned his attention back to Solas who had remained silent as he'd quenched his hunger.

"What's this about a banquet? Didn't you just say I was recently ill? How can I be expected to attend a banquet?" He asked, washing down the last of his food with a healthy swallow of the sweet red wine Solas had provided.

"Don't you remember?"

Dorian shook his head.

"The magisters are holding a banquet to honour the Inquisitor's victory over Corypheus. As heir to house Pavus, you must be in attendance."

Inquisitor? Banquet? Heir? He frowned. "What do you mean heir, Solas?"

"My apologies Dorian. I had expected you to remember that much at least. Your father was murdered. An assassination from what people are saying."

"My father is dead?" Dorian didn't know what to feel about that. Loss, disappointment, relief? He couldn't believe what he was hearing was real. It felt like he was waking to a nightmare. "Is there to be an investigation?"

"I do not believe so." Solas shook his head, frowning. "But I'm afraid that's not important now. You must get dressed for the banquet. I'll have a servant ready your bath."

Dorian nodded absently, numb with shock over Solas' news. The Inquisitor was here? He remembered the man with the strange mark on his hand. They'd worked together to stop Corypheus after all, but...what was he doing in Qarinus? It's not as though they'd been friends or even all that close. It seemed odd the man would bother coming to Tevinter given all the work he undoubtedly still had to take care of in Ferelden. A servant appeared then and he followed the elf to another room where a hot bath awaited him.

An hour later he was clean, dressed and ready for the banquet. Solas joined him, carrying a gilt-edged box bearing the Pavus family crest.

"What's that?" Dorian asked.