maskormenace | audio;

[ Ah, yes, but the difference is Dorian knows how and when to say no. Mahanon never learned that. Well, not until it was too late. ]

It's hardly a favor when I have some ready made for "just in case."

[ He sighs, heavily and obviously. ]

Honestly, Cullen, I shouldn't have to be the one who explains friends don't owe favors, but do things because they're friends.

[ And even with that lesson learned, will he say no when the pivotal moment comes? Cullen has his doubts and he hopes it doesn't get Mahanon killed. ]

Do you often have trouble sleeping that you've readied such a supply?

[ It's a worry Dorian has, too. He's confident in that he'll make the right choice, but he'd greatly appreciate his friends not dying.

Though he'll happily go on a witch hunt if anything happens to him because of someone else. ]

Not usually. Because the herbs are different here, I had to try a few different recipes. But, I've found the proper mix so I have more on hand than I would normally.

[ He will not be alone on that witch hunt. Cullen has enough templar left in him to believe that to be one mage who deserved the Brand. ]

Then if you would be willing to part with a bottle, I would greatly appreciate it.

[ While it would be something to give someone like that such a terrible thing and make him live knowing he is blocked, there's the fact it can allegedly be reversed. Topped with Dorian would just want him dead. ]

Of course. In fact I can spare more than just the one.

[ Cullen wants him dead as well, though he is cruel enough to wish for him to suffer. ]

What can I do for you in thanks for your generosity?

[ In truth, Dorian is cruel enough for this, too. Guess there's just some people that inspire it... ]

How about we just save that for later, yes?

As you wish.

[ A beat. ]

Dorian, there is a man named Victor Court who is interested in learning about magic. Would you be willing to speak with him?

[ It's almost a little funny how Cullen keeps finding himself smashed in with magic users. ]

I don't see why not! I'm always happy to speak about magic. [ He laughs a little, his tone amused; ] Even if the other person doesn't always want to hear it.

[ It really isn't funny. ]

I'm glad to hear that. I told him you might be willing to speak with him on the subject. I believe he's eager to hear what you have to say.

[ No, it's a little funny... ]

I can't imagine who wouldn't be! I'm rather delightful, not to mention an engaging conversation partner.

[ Except he knows he has off days just like everyone else. ]

I'll be certain to look him up.

[ Dorian Pavus, actual terrible person. ]

I'll let him know to await your contact.

[ DID HE NOT JUST SAY HE IS A DELIGHT??? Please follow along. ]

Oh! [ Perhaps he's the one who needs to follow along... ] Shall we meet in the middle? I've some draughts ready.

[ Uh oh, vague guilt incoming. ]

Are you certain it would not be an inconvenience? I can wait until tomorrow and more appropriate hours.

[ The way Dorian says his name is akin to a very, very frustrated parent who's at their wits end with their child for being ridiculous; ]

Cullen. [ Idiot!!! ] I'll be outside in mere minutes. If you're not there, I'll be quite cross with you for wasting my time.

[ And, with that, he disconnects and quickly heads into the room he's been using for his studies and gathers up a few bottles of the sleeping draught he's been working on, tucking them into a small container so they won't jostle too much. Then it's out to the backyard, lit by the magelights he's placed along a path through their ever growing grape vines. He could go all the way to Cullen's but instead he sits on a stack of 2x4's ( waiting to be constructed into a gazebo eventually ) and waits. ]

[ Wow. Try to be considerate and look what happens!

Cullen doesn't make him wait. Realizing that Dorian's coming whether he ought to be or not, Cullen slips on a pair of shoes, snags a jacket, and heads to the door. Deciding that that isn't quite good enough, he keeps going, through it and out into the yard. It doesn't take him long to spot Dorian at the site of his next project. ]

Thank you.

[ Gratitude first, because Dorian could be inside sleeping or learning or concocting strange magic and instead he's out here delivering potions. ]

I do appreciate it. Sleeping has yet to become easy for me.

[ Dorian offers a friendly smile when Cullen cones into view; he's pleased, too, to be able to help. Because for all that he still makes a play at being selfish and absorbed with nothing but himself, he's not. Well, not completely—he still does like himself quite a bit. But, there is room for others. Case proven right now. Yes, he could be asleep—that much is obvious by the way he's dressed in a peacock green set of silk pajamas—but he wasn't intent on sleeping for a while yet. And he knows from experience that late night wakefulness is often easier to handle with company.

Shifting to the side just a touch, he makes more room for Cullen, silently offering for him to sit for a moment or two. He offers up the parcel for Cullen to take, only settling his hands in his lap once he does. Once or twice or several more times they'd crossed paths in Skyhold on sleepless nights. Dorian knows they both have their own ghosts, but the thing about them is they've never pressed, just existed and offered a conversation or a game or just a silent companion. He may not know Cullen's side, but it's done something for him. ]

It's no trouble at all. Perhaps this will help some. Do let me know, yes? It's not as perfect as I'd like it to be, but I think it's well on the way.

[ By now, Cullen probably shouldn't be surprised that Dorian manages to look like he's adhering to some high standard of fashion even when he ought to be asleep, but he is. Probably always will be. There's Dorian in some fancy silk thing that looks as if it ought to be worn in a palace, looking sleek and put together. And here's Cullen, hair a rumpled mess and wearing a plain cotton t-shirt and some cotton trouser-type things with a stretchy waistband that he still doesn't know the proper name of.

He accepts the offered seat with a small smile and takes the parcel. It's too late now to waste a draught on this night, but he will certainly use one tomorrow. ]

Coming from you, I suspect that means anyone with knowledge of the healing arts would find them suitably perfect. [ It's the gentlest of teasing wrapped around an expression of genuine admiration. ] I do thank you for this. Sleep is.. Well, it's still something I struggle with, even now.

[ He shrugs, considering. Because it isn't always nightmares and aches and pains. Sometimes he simply can't quiet his mind long enough to drift off. ]

Perhaps I got too accustomed to doing without during my time with the Inquisition.

[ One never knows when one will be cavorting with a handsome neighbor in the middle of the night!!! Dorian needs to look his best always! Especially here where he knows nothing of the style of dress ( everything still feels so cheaply made... ). Fake it until he makes it. Or achieves some form of faking it well enough he can even fool himself.

In the distance there's sounds of the city; a salty breeze rolls in from the ocean, ruffling his hair and clothes. Sometimes when the moment is just right— ]

You know, [ he starts slowly, turning to look out toward the direction of the ocean, ] –there are times—if I close my eyes—it almost smells like the air coming in on the coast of Qarinus. [ He sighs a soft laugh, looking back, ] But, I suppose rotting vegetation and fish smell the same everywhere.

[ Dorian gives a smile as he lifts his hand to rest against Cullen's shoulder. ]

I suppose it's time for another lesson in using the magic you've been given. That should help you, too.

[ When it's those aches and pains. He doesn't say it, because he knows this is a touchy subject. But the implication is there. ]

[ He has a point. If Cullen closes his eyes and simply smells the air, he can almost imagine that he's there in Kirkwall again. Just for an instant, the tang of sea air smells familiar. But the noticeable lack of smoke and ash and rotting garbage quickly becomes too obvious and without its unique stench, nowhere smells anything like Kirkwall.

Cullen knows the implication of those words, knows Dorian's referring to the pains the lyrium withdrawal has left him with. To communicate that, he reaches up and pats that hand with his own. ]

Thank you, my friend. [ He smiles then, halfway between shyly eager and somewhat embarrassed. Magic is still such a complicated subject for him. ] I look forward to it.

[ Then, quieter, slightly more serious, he adds; ]

What was it like? Qarinus. Do you miss it?

[ For a fleeting moment he lifts his fingers slightly to fit between Cullen's in a bid to acknowledge the thanks. Teaching someone magic isn't the easiest thing, less so when it's magic Dorian hasn't even seen before. It's a study for both of them. That Cullen isn't shying away from his new given powers speaks of something, what that is Dorian doesn't fully know. But, would hope it would put to rest some of the things he's heard. Soon enough, however, he does pull away and laces his fingers together, both hands resting against his thigh. ]

Qarinus? Not really, no. I was there for a short time, [ there's a small pause; he wets his lips then swallows, ] before returning south again for the Exalted Council. It's a lovely place, right on the sea. There's even a dwarven embassy beneath the city, did you know that? [ Dorian hums a slightly amused sound, his hands lift, fingers spread in a wide gesture ] A bustling city full of the usual fare.

[ He doesn't really say what sort of fare, but Cullen's a smart man. He knows what sort of trade happens in Tevinter. ]

I got up to quite the bit of mischief there. Still, were you to believe Mae. [ His hands drop to his knees and he stares down at the ground, watching a few fallen grape leaves sluggishly scuttle across the grass from the breeze. ] Most of the time I believe I'm happy to see it disappear from sight. I miss what it was, not what it has become to me.

[ Dorian takes in a deep breath through his nose and lets a smile briefly pull up one corner of his mouth; it's sad, troubled. His tone shifts into something a touch more serious than he likes to expend. ]

It's in trouble, like most of Tevinter, with it being so close to Seheron. Solas is hardly the only troubling figure on our horizons.

[ Some part of him would like to shy away from it, but he isn't a coward. If it truly is a part of him now, it is his duty to learn to control it properly. Otherwise he might end up being a danger to others.

He listens with interest to Dorian, watching him and noting the little gestures that give added meaning to what he's saying. The visit hadn't been especially pleasant, he thinks, but doesn't pry. If Dorian wishes to tell him, he'll listen but he doesn't want to ruin a pleasant interlude by digging into unpleasant memories. ]

I understand. Perhaps it isn't quite the same, but the village of my birth was destroyed during the Blight. [ The Blight isn't a pleasant topic, but Cullen's voice remains light. Not upbeat, but not weighed down by sorrow or pain. ] I've visited since, and though it's been rebuilt, it isn't the same. It isn't home the way it was when I was a boy.

[ Reaching down, he pats Dorian on the knee. It isn't terribly helpful, he knows, but the sentiment behind it at least is genuine. ]

There is much strife in our world, but you do not face it alone. You have friends now, Dorian. You need only call on us and we will be there.

[ One day he might talk about it all. Right now hardly seems like an appropriate time to just casually bring up that his father was killed. There's such a strange and tumultuous history with his father that even Dorian doesn't know how to feel about it most days. He thinks it would be nice if he did, but... He doesn't and there's little he can do. One day, he imagines, it will all sort itself out. He hopes.

He looks at Cullen then, really looks at him, as best he can in the dark of the night with barely any light around them. For as cranky as he can be, for as stubborn as he can be, he's a good man. There's kindness in him that Dorian can see and doesn't really think Cullen sees that. He's a good friend, one he knows he can count on when all the cards are down. There's no apologies given about his village—none of it was Dorian's fault and it takes some measure of grief or acceptance in doing so. All he does is catch Cullen's hand before he's able to pull it away and gives it a small squeeze. ]

So there is, my dear man. Sometimes it seems as if it doesn't let up.

[ He pauses for a brief moment, uncertain, really, on what he wants to say. ]

I think Tevinter believes they will stand up to any attack the qunari bring against our shores. I don't believe that to be the case—especially not after what happened at the Winter Palace. Should Tevinter fall to them... [ he inhales a breath through his nose, then clears his throat, ] Well, it does not bode well for Thedas.

[ Four years ago, Cullen would not have been overly concerned about a qunari invasion against Tevinter. He would have been happy to let the qunari and the blood mages wipe themselves out far away from the rest of Thedas. Both Tevinter and the Qun had only ever brought suffering to Thedas, as near as he could tell. It would only be what they deserved to destroy each other.

But things have changed now. Cullen still wouldn't trust the average Tevinter mage. He would still expect blood mage and treachery from most magisters. What's changed is that now he knows that all magisters aren't monsters. Dorian has taught him that there are good Tevinters, decent men and women who don't glory in the pain of others.

Perhaps that is even true for the qunari, though after the Exalted Council, he isn't willing to extend them the benefit of the doubt. ]

Then Tevinter must not fall. [ He says it firmly, with the same stubborn refusal to be defeated that he turned against Corypheus and the corrupted templars. ] We stood against Corypheus. We stood against demons and blood magic. We can stand against the qunari too.

[ He looks out into the darkness, toward the sound of the ocean as if it is not... whatever this sea is called, but the Nocen Sea. He has never seen it, though in his mind's eye, he can imagine it well enough. ]

If the Inquisition has taught us nothing else, it is that we are stronger together than separately. And that when we are threatened, we will stand together regardless of our fears and foolish prejudice. [ He looks at Dorian, offering a small smile. ] We may no longer be the Inquisition, but I believe I may speak for Mahanon and the rest when I say that if Tevinter needs us, we will come. Whether it wishes us to do so or not.

[ Anyone can argue there's terrible people no matter the place. Yes, quite a lot of them have made a home for themselves in Tevinter. Dorian wouldn't really argue that. But, he knows there's good people there. They may be few, but they are legion. Or will be soon enough. Terrible people live in Ferelden. Maker knows there are horrible people in Orlais. Dorian will argue until his dying breath that Tevinter can be restored to a glory it deserves, not one built upon the backs and blood of slaves and innocents.

This is such a morose topic for this time of night. Which, as it happens, is Dorian's Prime Time™ to allow his thoughts to travel to places they shouldn't be traveling. Though he hates doing it to himself, it's a habit he hasn't quite broken. Apparently. Time to move on.

So, he smiles again, brows raised high on his forehead and amusement twisting so easily in his words. ]

I imagine not. A pariah, a Dalish and a Fereldan—complete with mabari in tow! Magnificent. Half would die from shock, I imagine. [ He waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss the topic entirely. ] But, hardly something conductive for a restful night's sleep. [ Then, gives a gesture toward the bottles. ] Do let me know how those work, yes? Half a dose should aid you for tonight.

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