Sparkler and the Wolf

11: Interference

Dorian was disappointed when he saw no sign of Fenris, later learning the elf had been in the garden playing chess with Cullen. It bothered him that the news sparked a twinge of jealousy but he squashed it down. He was not a bumbling teenager, he would not give in to these base emotions. He had dinner with Varric and the Iron Bull, determined not to let the elf's behaviour affect his appetite. When Fenris failed to make an appearance he ignored the irritation he felt and retired to his quarters.

When he woke the next day he was vexed Fenris hadn't come to see him the previous evening, not even to bid him goodnight. He was in a foul mood as he dressed, grumbling to himself about elves and their ridiculous ideas about courtship. He was so caught up in his musings he almost tripped on the package left outside his door.

Frowning, he picked it up and returned to his quarters, curious about what it might contain. It was a small, oddly shaped package wrapped in navy blue silk and tied with an emerald ribbon.

He marvelled at how the package had been carefully wrapped and tugged the ribbon off. The silk fell away and as it did, a small bottle of wine was revealed, resting on top of a leather bound book. He stared at the bottle, curious, until he recognized it as being the same label to what Fenris had poured him in his quarters that first night. He smiled at it, knowing without opening it that it would be watered down.

Setting it aside, he lifted the book free of the silk cloth. It was a copy of The Book of Shartan, the elf who had fought alongside Andraste to free the elves from slavery. He felt a tear well in his eye at the gift. It was not the kind of thing he'd ever expect from anyone, but the symbolism of it and the significance it held for the sender was more touching than anything he'd received before.

Bloody elf, he muttered under his breath as he wiped the tears from his cheeks, sniffing loudly. This was foreign territory for him and he hoped he was up to the task of being able to reciprocate in kind. He had no map for this sort of thing, but staring at the gifts he was humbled, and he prayed to the Maker he wouldn't screw this up.

----xxx----

Fenris had fretted himself into a frenzy over what to give the mage as a first gift. Dorian was a noble, accustomed to gifts and favours of extravagance. His paltry offering had seemed plain and unremarkable and it had taken him the better part of an hour to leave it at Dorian's door.

Back in his room, he drank several glasses of wine, determined to stop second-guessing himself over it. What made him stop was knowing that if Dorian didn't like it, then he was on the wrong path and could forget his pursuit of the man. But he trusted his instincts and knew without doubt Dorian would be pleased and with that thought had fallen asleep, a confident smile on his face.

-----xxx----

He had every intention of thanking Fenris in person with a passionate kiss, but when next he opened his door it was to the sight of a messenger standing there, hand raised to knock.

"Oh! My apologies messere!" The young man stammered. "Didn't mean to startle you, but the Inquisitor sent me to fetch you. I'm to take you to her straight away."

Dorian grunted. "I understand, but would it be all right if I took a moment? I need to take care of something first."

The man's cheeks flushed crimson. "I do apologize but that won't be possible. The Inquisitor's party is already at the gates."

"Fasta vaas." Dorian swore. "Very well, lead the way."

----xxx---

A bustle of activity roused him from the pleasant dream he was having. He rolled out of bed wondering at the ruckus and dressed, strapping his armour and great sword in place before leaving his quarters.