audio;

[stubble]

[ It's late at night when Cullen makes the post, the time of night when people would probably text something like this. But typing on the phone is still too much of an unnatural struggle for him to default to it.

He sounds relatively normal. Maybe just a tiny bit tired. ]

What is it you do when you cannot sleep and there is no work to be done to better utilize the hours you spend awake?

[ There's a tiny pause. ]

I am no stranger to sleepless nights, yet in coming here, I've now naught to do with mine.

Comments

[curled]

[ 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.

[stubble]

[ Perhaps they won't make the most impressive sight to magisters accustomed to believing themselves the most powerful and important people in the world, but pandering to the self-importance of nobles has never mattered to Cullen. What matters is results. And the Inquisition got them. Thedas has not been overrun by demons. Corypheus has not remade the world.

The magisterium can get over itself. It needs all the allies it can get. ]

Aye. Right you are. My apologies for speaking of such weighty matters at such an hour.

[ Cullen looks down at the bottles, nodding. ]

I will. Thank you. [ Glancing up, he gives Dorian a smile and then gets to his feet. He offers Dorian a hand to his own. ] Shall I escort you back inside?

[curled]

[ True enough. And Dorian is of mind to remind the magisters that they are not as powerful as they think themselves. Though it does him little good now, he begins to formulate a plan of how to speak with the Archon once he returns. He's not an unreasonable man and sensible enough to listen.

But, nothing to do about that now.

Dorian shakes himself free of his thoughts and looks at Cullen's hand and without thinking, just slides his hand over it easily. He uses it as leverage to pull himself up ( even if he did keep most of the weight on his feet instead ). For a moment he doesn't let go and just searches Cullen's face for... something. Even Dorian isn't really positive what he's trying to see.

Forcing himself to look toward his own backdoor he sighs and gives a small smile. ]

No, I think I'll make it fine on my own. [ Dangerous and selfish thoughts are brewing and it is best if he quell them before they force his hand into something he might regret. So, he lets go and gives Cullen's shoulder a passing squeeze before he turns away. ]

Get some sleep, Cullen. You've plenty of work to get done tomorrow!