The Other Dalish

Dorian knocked on the door of Gael's chambers, but was met with silence. Dorian frowned, and knocked again. Silence. Not wishing to barge into the Inquisitor's chambers, though he very much wanted to, Dorian loitered around the door and paced. Hand rubbing his chin, Dorian waited and waited, occasionally knocking just for the sake of it, each bump on the door making him less sure that he would get a response. It wasn't until a servant girl, who had been watching the Tevinter with thinly veiled amusement, finally walked up to him with a laundry basket tethered to her hip that he finally stopped his pacing.

"The Inquisitor is waiting at the gates, Mister Pavus," the girl said, curtseying. "He has been there since dawn."

"The gates? Whatever for?" Dorian asked, and the maid shrugged, shaking her head. 

"I do not know such things, but I have heard that some of his clan may be visiting."

Everything clicked into place, and Dorian's cheeks heated as he grew embarrassed at how he must have looked, pacing around an empty room like a damned Soporati fool. After uncovering the corruption within Wycome and the plot to purge the area of elves, including Lavellan's own clan, Gael had not been settled until the matter had been dealt with. Dorian could remember the view of Gael's back, shoulders trembling and hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs in the night, and the memory alone made him wince. He had spent many nights with Gael, lending him a shoulder and an ear, and it was not until just a week past that the whole matter had been resolved and Clan Lavellan's safety secured. Gael was lighter than he had ever been before, and Dorian's heart was too.

Turning to the maid, Dorian bowed and thanked her, before walking towards the gate. It was just shy of an hour since dawn broke, and Dorian wondered if Gael was still waiting there for his Clan's arrival. Knowing his perseverance, it was likely that he was still standing there, not even allowing himself to sit. Dorian smiled a little at the image of the small elf standing on the edge of the towering gates, an excited grin on his face and his body swamped in a thick coat to block out the harsh, icy winds. 

The mental image soon became real as Dorian grew closer to the gate, Gael standing there waiting. Dorian's breath was knocked out of his lungs as he looked on at Gael, and though he saw the man every day it was as if he were seeing him for the first time. Gael's long hair was untied, something that was quite rare these days since the Inquisitor was almost always dressed ready for combat, even in the confines of Skyhold. Wavy and thick, Gael's hair swung just over his shoulder blades, and glistened with little specks of silver snowflakes, their fractals radiating through his locks. His cheeks and nose were rosy from the biting cold, his fair skin pulled tight over sharp bones as his lips curved in a closed, waiting smile. Green eyes were alight as they watched through the rectangular gaps of the gate, his body bobbing as he rose up and down on his toes with unbridled excitement and a touch of impatience.

Dorian was about to call out to the elf when Gael's face suddenly morphed into something he had never seen before, the elf hastily asking the soldiers perched on the lookout to open the gate. Metal groaned and chains clanged as the gate drew up towards the sky, Gael ducking under it to rush out before it was fully opened. 

"Eilhana! Lethallan!" Gael cried out, Dorian looking on. Eilhana. The name rang a bell, Dorian trying to recall the stories Gael had told him about his Clan over tea and ale. Dorian cursed his love of the drink, some of the details about this particular elf hazy in his mind. Unable to shake off the hold the ale had on his memories, Dorian continued to watch Gael and the elf named Eilhana. The Inquisitor was a flurry of laughter as his coat engulfed another smaller elf, Gael's laughs punctuated with a higher, more feminine tone. Dorian's brow furrowed at the mingling noises, narrowing his eyes as he stepped forward to get a better look as the two bodies that whirled around, Gael hoisting the other figure up in his arms.

"Gael, I have missed you," the female voice said, shaking a little as Gael nodded, dropping Eilhana from his hands though they never left her body, her feet lightly landing on the ground. The elf was still obscured from Dorian's sight, the Tevinter mage cursing the overabundance of furs around Gael's body which shielded his visitor from sight.

"And I you. I feared for you, and the Clan, every day," Gael said, voice soft as he pulled the girl into a tight hug, tucking her head under his chin. The girl's hands wrapped themselves around Gael's waist, slender wrists peeking out from the sleeve of her warm orange dress. Pulling back, his hands moving from her back to cup her cheeks, Gael searched her eyes. "Is everyone alright? I only know what I have heard from letters from our Keeper. It would calm me greatly to hear it from you directly."

"We are alright," Eilhana said, laughing softly. "All of us are alright, thanks to you."

"I am glad," Gael breathed out, and Dorian let out a breath as the elf finally moved away from the girl, revealing her to Dorian's faraway eyes. Blonde hair, tinged with the warmth of orange, was tied in an intricate braid down her back, small white flowers intertwined with the dips and ridges of the braids. The elf had large, brown eyes framed with dark lashes, and her lips were plump and pink and shone with moisture. Her cheeks, like Gael's, were red due to the cold, though the rosiness only added to her innocent beauty. 

She was shorter than Gael - a feat Dorian thought impossible - and her figure was mostly hidden under her loose dress, though Dorian could still make out the ample curve of her bosom which was pressed flush against Gael's chest as they stood close together. Dorian felt his throat constrict as he watched the two of them, their bodies impossibly close and fitting together like a puzzle. With their heights, Eilhana only had to step up onto her toes to reach Gael's lips with her own, Dorian frowning at the invasive thought.

They look good together.

Dorian knew that Lavellan was not experienced in relationships of an intimate nature, something that made him giddy whenever he thought about it. But that did not mean he was without attention from women. Noble ladies swooned at the sight of the pretty elf with the shiny title, and his world-saving feats made women trip over themselves to see him. Dorian had grown used to such women, and at first they had irked him, but that feeling dissipated into nothing once he realised that Gael had no eyes for them at all.

But now, with his eyes warm and so, so gentle, and his hands holding this girl like that, all of Dorian's fears came rushing back in a flood. Dorian would never see a woman the way he saw Gael, but watching the Inquisitor now made him realise that the elf may not be the same. Standing next to Eilhana, Dorian could picture the nightmare in his mind; Gael's hands touching her, his lips on hers, his fingers unlacing the back of her dress. He could see her, hovering over him, holding him, being with him. What made Dorian feel sick was not the image of Gael holding a woman; it was how right the image was. Gael holding a girl was natural. Gael wanting a girl was natural. Gael and Eilhana were natural.

Dorian was not.

Unable to watch on any longer, Dorian turned on his heel and walked straight to his quarters, shutting the world out and his heart inside.

~~~

Varric sat at his table and tapped his quill on the edge of the inkwell as the words on the parchment in front of him dried. Shiny black lines turned matte and crisp, and Varric smiled. Reading over his words, Varric nodded, his gravelly voice humming as he put pen to paper again. 

Inquisit Me - Chapter Seventeen - Each Other's Others

After a few moments of writing, Varric's quill stopped moving as his mind grew blank. Starved of ideas, Varric crunched a few toasted nuts in his mouth, spitting out the husks onto the ground.

"Hopefully these two can give me some better material to work with," Varric sighed, peering out the window as he again waited for the ink to dry down. In the distance, he could see Dorian walking back into Skyhold's stone buildings, a frown beneath his moustache and his eyes cloudy. Tracing the mage's steps backwards, Varric's eyes trailed towards the gate to the Inquisitor, who was staring after Dorian with a sad, lost look.

"Misunderstandings and confusing feelings," Varric said, grinning as his pen found some new inspiration.

"This will be my most heart-wrenching chapter yet."

A/N: I just thought it would be funny to add that little scene with Varric - he sees things that Gael and Dorian can't see, and tbh he's just a hardcore Pavellan shipper like me. I'm currently working on the next chapter, and it's turning out to be a bit of a long one (at least, longer than usual!)

And also, I hope you all had a Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year, wherever you are! <3