Sparkler and the Wolf

14. Hitting People with Sticks

Dorian's flight, for it was a flight no matter how he denied it, took him to the ramparts outside the newly renovated mage tower. He gazed down to the rocky cliffs below, wondering idly if his body would be recovered should he decide to fling himself off the wall in a fit of hysteria. After a moment, he concluded it unlikely, his body or parts of it being left frozen to the landscape like some hideous sculpture. That or become some wild beasts' next meal.

He shook himself, marveling at the morbid path his thoughts had taken and sighed, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. What kind he couldn't decide, whether mental, emotional or physical he felt drained in a way he'd never been before.

Blowing up at Fenris the way he had made his cheeks flame in embarrassment. He had no excuse and no reason for it which meant he owed the elf an apology. And if he had to explain his behaviour, he was certain it was simply because the elf had been standing there and therefore made an easy target.

Apology and thank you, he amended with another hunch of his shoulders. He still hadn't thanked Fenris for the gift he'd left at his door. Kaffas, he was making a right mess of things and had no idea how to dig himself free of the hole he'd flung himself in.

"You keep hunching over like that Vint and next thing you know you'll be turned into a turtle." Iron Bull chuckled as he neared the training yard.

"I'm merely conserving body heat." He frowned. "Care to explain why you have Cassandra hitting you with large stick?"

"Oh! Yeah! Come on Seeker! If I wanted to be tickled I would have asked Sera, now hit me!"

Cassandra growled and whacked him hard on the chest, knocking the qunari on his ass. She dropped the stick and headed to the barracks. "Perhaps you can take over, I have work to do."

Dorian frowned at Bull, the qunari getting to his feet and holding the stick out to him. He took it, his frown increasing. "Why am I hitting you with a stick?"

"The Fade. Demon assholes, need it after all that Warden crap. Now shut up and hit me Vint."

"Alright." Dorian said, tightening his grip on the stick and smacking Bull in the chest with it.

"Oh! Yeah! Demon assholes! Who's afraid now! Who killed you!" He growled while Dorian continued to hit him. "That's right, I did! The Iron Bull killed you! Iron fucking Bull!"

Dorian whacked him a good one sending Bull sprawling to his ass again. "Does that really help?" He asked, extending his hand to help Bull to his feet.

"Course it helps. You should try it sometime. Might help you lose that tension you're always trying to hide."

"I'll thank you not to hit me with a stick. I rather like not having bruises marring my skin."

Bull laughed, a deep hearty chuckle and clapped the mage on the shoulder. "That's not what I meant Vint. You're not wiry like the southern mages, you're toned, you keep in shape. I meant you should spar sometime, maybe with a short sword or a staff with a blade on the end."

"You mean hit someone with it and allow someone to hit me?" He gasped sounding scandalized and not a little curious.

"Why not? You might need to know how someday. Maybe run out of lyrium in battle or maybe get silenced by a Templar. What could you do to defend yourself if that happened? Stand there and look pretty till someone runs you through?"

Dorian's instinct had been to reject the idea outright as ridiculous, but he had seen what southern Templars could do. Had seen how defenceless and simple it was for them to kill a mage whose magic was inaccessible. And he had run out of lyrium several times in battle and likely would not have recovered enough mana in time if he'd been alone or outnumbered, rather than with non-mage companions at his side.