Anywhere I would have followed you // closed

[aban_aqun]

Who: the Iron Bull aban_aqun and Dorian Pavus bestdressed
When: Four days after arriving
Where: their cottage
What: feelings
Warnings: feelings; will be updated as necessary



Slowly but surely, Dorian and Bull have been exploring their cottage and attempting to make it feel more like home. Dorian's spent time exploring the clearly magicked platforms and stairs above the house, and Bull-- has watched from the ground, for now. As much as Dorian assures him that it appears entirely stable and unlikely to fall out of the sky, Bull is content to simply trust the magic and not engage with it. For now.

Learning to trust magic has been an on-going process since he left Seheron. Bull likes to think he's made exceptional progress in the past decade or so.

Despite their focus on trying to settle, Bull hasn't forgotten the weight Dorian is carrying: the one that's been on his shoulders since they arrived. The one that's nothing to do with being here.

"Hey, found someone getting rid of these and thought you'd like them," he says when he finds Dorian in their bedroom. Draped across the Bull's arms are gauzy curtains that would look good draped around the bare canopy of the bed.

Comments

[bestdressed]

Were the circumstances otherwise, Dorian might be willing to admit to liking their little cottage. If he allowed himself to a imagine a future in which he and Bull could have a home together--if, of course--it might have been something very much like this. Once they clean things up, wash the sheets and dust the furniture and sweep the floors, it's very cozy, and Dorian has already indulged in more than one bath in the pretty porcelain tub. But the magical stairway leading up from the roof is, of course, his favorite part. The boards don't seem heavy enough to cause any damage to the house if the enchantment were to fail one day, and he's spent whatever free time he's manage to have on the platform looking over the city, or simply sitting with his feet dangling off the edge with a book in hand.

Otherwise he prefers the bed to the sofa, which is where he's settled now, cross-legged in soft pants and a loose shirt, books and notes spread out in a semi-circle around him. He looks up with a smile as Bull enters, taking in the fabric he's holding and arching a brow. "Second-hand curtains?" He questions, injecting some artificial exasperation into his amusement. "Is this truly what my life has become?"

[aban_aqun]

Bull rolls his eye and drapes the curtains over the edge of the bed.

"Pretty sure you chose this life the moment you set foot in Ferelden," he teases. "They're clean." His eye roves over the books and papers spread out. He isn't surprised that Dorian has thrown himself into academics - he's sure the familiarity of it is a vague comfort, despite the frustration. Eventually, he circles to the other side of the bed to sit on the end of it.

He's quiet for a moment, considering. Is it worth interrupting what seems like a moment of calm in a sea of uncertainty?

"I know you've had a lot on your mind."

[bestdressed]

Dorian feels the mattress dip as Bull settles, stops a few of his papers from sliding out of the book he'd been making notations on. He knows full well by now what Bull is doing. Ben-Hassrath. There's no way he hasn't noticed how strangely morose he's been, even beyond how devastated he is about losing his magic and ending up here in the first place. It's been difficult, honestly, keeping these things to himself. They're too important, and he feels disingenuous. He's had a few days now to think about and begin to process the idea of his father being dead, and himself named Magister Pavus against all expectations. He's had some time to consider what that means not only for himself, but for Bull. All that's left is to lay these things before him, and hope that Bull understands him as well as he's always seemed to.

Maker, but he doesn't want to lose him.

Beyond that, they still have to discuss the reality of their situation here in Aefenglom: Bull's status as mutatus--the changed, a Tevene term Dorian's coined in his head to use in lieu of "monsters," a word he dislikes in this context--and what that means for their survival here. There's concept of Bonding to go over, how it works and how it seems to be the most sensible way to both slow and control the seemingly inevitable changes Bull is fated to undergo, as well as to stabilize Dorian's erratic new power.

"An understatement, but yes." He agrees wearily. "I hardly know where to begin."

[aban_aqun]

"Let's start with what you've been carrying from Thedas," he says quietly. Bull isn't even trying to be subtle, though he is being gentle. Dorian arrived with something on his chest and he's had no chance to deal with that before being thrust into all of this, and Bull at least wants to offer a space to let all that breathe.

They'd been apart for months. Their chance to have a real reunion has been stolen from them, tossed amid the general chaos of being pulled from one world into another. Bull want that moment back, as best they can manage.

They can talk about the rest after. Bull has been steadfastly ignoring his new status, far less concerned about it than he is about Dorian feeling so cut off from his magic - something that is fundamentally part of him. Bull can survive, he's adaptable. This is something that's been foisted upon him and in his head it's entirely different. And less important.

[bestdressed]

"All right," he sighs, resigned. He considers how to put his thoughts to words, but quickly decides that he ought to just be plain about it. Bull will know all that it implies without having it explained to him in painstaking detail.

Quietly, Dorian reaches out and closes a few of his books, notes still shoved inside to mark his page. He breathes in, and wishes they were closer.

"My father is dead," he says, more raw than he'd intended. The first time he's spoken the words aloud. They drop like stones into a still pond, heavy and disruptive. They're weightier outside his head. Someone else knows, so now it must be real. "Likely assassinated. I received notice only hours before coming through the mirror here." His voice dips. "The letter congratulated me on assuming his seat in the Magisterium. I was still under the impression that I'd been disowned, but apparently he changed his mind."

[aban_aqun]

"Dorian."

It's all he can say at first, full of sympathy. He knows how complicated Dorian's relationship with his father was, he knows the pain the mage has carried for years. But he also knows what something like this would mean to him: evidence that Halward Pavus kept Dorian as his heir. Bull reaches for him, hand sliding across the bed until he can find Dorian's.

An apology is on the tip of his tongue, human condolences that he learned long ago. But it doesn't feel right to offer them, not when he'd considered increasingly creative ways to send Halward to his grave not that long ago.

His thumb strokes across the back of Dorian's hand.

"How are you feeling?"

[bestdressed]

The compulsion to shuffle across the bed and climb into Bull's lap is there, but Dorian doesn't follow it. Instead he simply lets Bull hold his hand and takes comfort in the way his palm envelops his fingers.

"It's still difficult to believe," he admits. His father has always been a figure that seemed beyond the reproach of mere mortals. He was, in many ways, almost a mythical being in Dorian's life. It's difficult to imagine him being gone, let alone killed outright. "But with a seat in the Magisterium, I'll be in a position to truly help Maevaris with the Lucerni. As a Magister I could finally do something worthwhile."

Even after steeling himself to say it, his voice still falters, even if his sense of duty and purpose does not.

"Bull, I have to go back. For good this time."

[aban_aqun]

He knows it's coming before Dorian says the words. He's been given his father's seat, which means power and position and influence - all things that Dorian had been bred to wield with confidence and cunning. A seat in the Magisterium means that Dorian might finally be able to help affect the change he so desperately wants to see in Tevinter.

So Bull is not surprised, not for a moment, at the words when they come. He lowers his gaze, trying to ignore how hard the news hits him even if it is expected. Bull doesn't say anything at first, just stares at some point between them.

For good this time.

"I'll go with you."

[bestdressed]

He'd expected that Bull would say something to that effect. Thankfully, he has his response prepared. "You can't," he insists quietly, though the pain this causes him is clear with the strain in his voice in the upward knitting of his brow. "It would be terrible for you. You would be miserable in Minrathous, not to mention constantly in danger."

Another thing that's difficult to believe: that he could ever willingly walk away from Bull, who has openly and unselfishly and generously given him the love he's craved all his life. That and more. But he loves Bull fiercely enough to refuse him now. "Your place is with the Chargers. I can't take you from that."

Dorian averts his gaze for a moment, swallows hard around the lump in his throat before breathing out something like a bitter laugh on his next exhale.

"This does, of course, assume that we will ever return home in the first place--let alone in a timely manner."

[bestdressed]

They go together the next day to the same sort of lesson that Bull had been so reluctant to attend on his first day. Dorian is welcomed, though the class isn't specifically for him; apparently anyone is allowed to observe and participate, not only the "monsters" in question. He's curious and admittedly a bit nervous, but likely not nearly so much as the Bull. Most of what is being covered in the class are basics Dorian's read about by now or head from other foreigners here. He remains close to Bull's side, fingers occasionally drifting to his arm.

When the potions are brought out he takes theirs and uncorks it himself, then slides his other hand into Bull's. "Shall we?" He asks, flashing a reassuring smile. He'll give Bull this last chance to reconsider. Even if he thinks it's for the best that they do this, he isn't going to make Bull do anything before he's ready.

[aban_aqun]

Bull is still reluctant to go. He doesn't want to listen to the weird history, he doesn't want to hear about the way his body and mind might-- change. He's past forty years old, he is done with that kind of changing. And it grates on him to be constantly referred to as a monster.

Having Dorian there is the only thing that makes Bull sit through the lecture. He looks down when Dorian's fingers brush over his own and he moves a bit closer, until they're touching all along their sides.

He eyes the potion when it arrives and Bull allows himself to look momentarily anxious by the possibility of just downing the potion.

"Yes," he answers. Bull holds Dorian's hand and downs his part of the potion.

[bestdressed]

With another upward quirk of his lips, Dorian follows suit. The bottle is empty by the time he lowers it. He holds Bull's hand tightly, leans closer to him, and waits.

Before long there's a flicker of something--a tenuous connection, like he's more aware of Bull's presence than usual. It's difficult not to be aware of Bull if he's nearby, but this is quite different. Like there is Bull beside him, holding his hand, but Bull has a place within him as well--and not in the usual way--if he only looks. This comes along with a strange feeling of elation, and rush that flows through him quickly. He tilts his head to look up at Bull with some surprise and something akin to wonder. Perhaps if it were anyone else he would find this unnerving, but it isn't.

"What does it feel like for you?" He wonders, now far more eager than nervous. This is quite a nice feeling, actually, now that it's sinking in.

[aban_aqun]

Bull isn't sure he feels anything at first beyond his anxiety. But soon enough that's covered by a rush of comfortable warmth. He looks at Dorian, watching his expression change and wondering what he feels.

"I can... feel you, I think."

He doesn't know how to put it into words. Bull brushes his thumb along Dorian's fingers and he tries to pay more attention to what's going on inside him. It's like an adrenaline rush, but not like one he's had before. It feels-- nice.

[bestdressed]

"Yes, I think that must be it," Dorian exclaims, and grasps Bull's hands with both of his own now. He thinks he knows what Bull must be feeling: he's confused and wary and more than a little anxious. Given how well he knows Bull, he'd have been able to tell that even without a magical connection. But with one he thinks he can actually feel it. He can imagine that it must go both ways.

"I'm certain that I can feel you," he says, which is...well, it's a lot to examine. This is deeply intriguing, and he might press Bull for more specifics later, but he doesn't want to push him too hard just yet. They'll both need a little time to get used to it, he thinks. Given the effects of the potion they should have roughly twenty-four hours to determine if this will work for them long-term.

[aban_aqun]

Bull shivers and he tries to sort through what's his and what's Dorian. He's certain the rush of excitement is all Dorian. It doesn't make him feel better, per se, but he does feel-- comforted, in a way. Feeling him so intimately.

He brushes his thumbs over Dorian's hands, staring down between them as he tries to work through all this.

"Do we have to stay much longer?" he asks. He's lost track of what's happening around them and he looks up to see what other pairs are doing. He doesn't let go of Dorian.

[bestdressed]

Bull is deeply uncomfortable. That's more than apparent, even merely in his posture. Immediately Dorian is compelled to do whatever he can to help.

"I can't imagine we have to," Dorian says consideringly. "I don't think they'll stop us if we want to leave, at any rate." Still clasping Bull's hand in both of his, he raises it up to his lips and presses them briefly to his thick knuckles, reassuring. "Do you want to go home?" To the home they've procured for themselves here, at least. It would be better to process all of this in private, he has to agree.

[aban_aqun]

Bull takes a deep breath and he lets it go slowly. He can't let this get the better of him - being this uncomfortable serves no purpose and, worse, Dorian will feel it. He doesn't want Dorian to feel any of this.

As Dorian kisses his knuckles, Bull leans forward and gently presses his forehead to Dorian's.

"Yes, please," he says quietly. He wants familiar walls, he wants the place that they've made their own. It's as much a home as they have right now, and as long as Dorian is nearby, he knows he'll be alright. Bull looks momentarily contrite. "I'm sorry," he adds.

IUNERIL 17TH - full moon night (eventual nsfw)

[bestdressed]

Dorian may have overdone it with the checking in over the last few days. Funny, given that Bull is supposed to be the one with that sort of obnoxious persistence, much to Dorian's usual irritation. This time it's the opposite, with Bull even responding sharply once, which is so far from normal that Dorian couldn't help being startled. But as the full moons have approached and the sky has become increasingly redder and the local population more and more on edge, Dorian can't help but become uneasy. He's done plenty of reading and researching and asking around about what newly-made Monsters can expect to experience during the full moon. Needless to say, it's nothing good. And given that Bull had been too uncomfortable with the temporary Bond to consider a full one, Dorian can't even do everything in his power to help him. It's deeply frustrating, but he doesn't let that stop him from being there for Bull however he can be. The Coven has begun giving out potions and charms to unbonded Monsters, and knowing that Bull was unlikely to do so, Dorian had taken a few himself to keep on his person. Just in case. He trusts Bull, but he doesn't trust this place, and he's worried as to what sort of changes Bull might experience.

The festivities for Litha will begin in a short few days, and it seems many of the activities are already prepared--the giant hedge mazes, for one. Perhaps strolling together through the city when tensions are so high isn't the best way to spend the evening, but Dorian has had it recommended to him that staying active is important to burn off the extra energy the Sisters grant to Monsters. After stopping to hear the pitch, Dorian turns to Bull with bright eyes, admittedly intrigued.

"Why don't we try it together?" He suggests, the tone of his voice light and playful and more than a little suggestive. "You should be rather used to chasing me by now." A reference, of course, to his propensity for playing hard to get.

[aban_aqun]

Bull feels awful for the way he's snapped at Dorian recently. He's ashamed of himself for losing his temper, for losing control. It shouldn't matter how bad he's feeling, Dorian should never have to bear the brunt of it for any reason. Even worse, he knows that Dorian is only worried about him, and that the mage's worry is his fault: if he weren't so stubborn, if he were more willing to embrace magic as a solution to his problems rather than a cause--

But everything seems to get under his usually thick skin lately. He he itches. Little does he know that there are scales growing in little patches on his back - he can't see them yet, only feels the itch.

It doesn't help that he feels like he can't stay still.

He looks down at Dorian with a dry little smile. "I think I've gotten very good at it, don't you?" he teases, managing to embrace the levity Dorian's offering, at least. Bull looks toward the entrance of the mage and he would be lying if he said there isn't some appeal in the prospect of hunting his lover. His sense of smell has always been a big stronger than a human's, but lately--

Lately he feels like he notices everything.

[bestdressed]

"The best," Dorian agrees lightly, his smile reaching his eyes enough to deepen the creases at the corners that he pretends aren't there. He leans gently into Bull's side, shoulder to arm, the angle of his body open and receptive. Bull has been irritable as of late, true, but Dorian recognizes it for what it is, and it only makes him more determined to keep the connection between them open and understanding and as normal as possible. It's the least he can do.

And this will be fun! He's interested in the concept, and it seems as though Bull is as well. It'll also keep both of them distracted and occupied as the day winds to a close and the moons begin to rise in the sky. "If we're to participate, it seems as though I should be getting a head start," he points out playfully.

[aban_aqun]

Bull pulls Dorian close to him and leans down, burying his nose in the mage's hair. He breathes him deep, letting Dorian's scent roll over him before he lets him go again. "Go on," he urges as he takes a step back. "I can't give you that much of a head start... you're faster than me."

He swears he can taste Dorian in the air between them.

[bestdressed]

He's surprised when Bull pulls him closer, though he should have expected it. Instinctively he stiffens against his side, even as he tells himself there's no reason for it. Though there is a reason, of course. Dorian is still slowly but surely shedding his discomfort with open affection and physical contact. By the time Bull leans back, he's relaxed at least somewhat--enough to look up at him and smile, at least. "The objective isn't to chase me, you brute, but to find me," he teases. "Though what happens if you do is entirely up to you."

He steps away for a moment to say a few words to the coordinator at the maze's entrance, confirming that they'll be allowed in. Afterward he returns to Bull, planting a hand on his hip and leaning close to murmur, "Catch me and you may claim your prize." Nothing at all cryptic there. He leaves with that parting message, and enters the maze without so much as a look back.

The hedges tower over him, tall and imposing, but he doesn't waste time gawking up. He moves quickly to put distance between himself and the entrance, taking the first path he finds and following it. That will be predictable, but as the maze opens up further and more routes present themselves, he begins choosing with a strategy in mind. Flowers bloom at several key turning points, and he remembers the ones nearest the turns he picks. The maze is sprawling, gigantic; it cuts through at least one building, the skeleton of an old dockside warehouse. Bull must be pursuing him by now, he thinks. Whether he's been able to follow his trail closely or not remains to be seen.

Dorian opts to stop here for now, using the setting sun to his advantage and hiding on the deeply shadowed side of sharp corner. Peering around it, he'll see anyone turning onto the path before they see him. His heart beats hard, blood pounding through him loud enough that he can hear it in his ears. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air. He feels jittery, on edge, though it isn't with fear, but exhilaration.

[aban_aqun]

Bull follows Dorian at a slower pace, letting him keep his lead. He's amazed by the way his lover's scent lingers, but-- he's always known that it does. The scent of Dorian's pomade on the pillows, his lotion and cologne in the alcove of the library that he likes best. And beneath it all? Something so very personally Dorian.

He's always been aware of it, he realizes, but now it's more vivid in his mind, easier to pick out among the wafting scents of various flowers and plants and earth.

When he feels lost, all he has to do is wait a moment for the breeze to shift.

Eventually, he catches up. Bull tries to clear his mind as he approaches a sharp corner - he can smell Dorian, swears that he feels close, but he can't see him. Bull's heart is pounding and it has nothing to do with exertion: he's excited. Dorian's voice, the promise, still rings in his head as he carefully moves toward the corner, focused and prickling with awareness as he looks for some sign of the mage.

[bestdressed]

The moons are already rising even before the sun has fully set, and Dorian eyes them as he hears the muffled steps that signal Bull's approach. He's very quiet, especially given his size, but Dorian picks up on the movement through the wall of greenery separating them. It's this splitsecond of advance warning that gives him time to react. And sure enough, a moment later Bull comes into sight. Dorian considers his options. He doesn't want to be caught so soon, and to that end, he doesn't want to be cornered. His only real course, then, is to take the path he'd left open to him at his back.

He has to dart out of his hiding place to veer around the corner. He breaks into a sprint, boots pounding the ground as he runs, following the hedge further along the wall of the warehouse. It will be night very soon, but with a roof above them--even a deteriorating one--it's already quite dark in the maze. He doesn't look over his shoulder to see if Bull is behind him, but rather follows the long corridor to the end, then takes the righthand turn. There has to be a way that he can double back, confuse him by hiding beneath his already existing scent, find a hiding spot--something.

[aban_aqun]

Bull's head snaps to the side as Dorian sprints by him and down another path. He darts after him, surprisingly quick given his size. He has him now and he doesn't want to lose the trail, even if he loses sight of him from turn to turn.

As they lose sunlight, Bull's vision suffers. It's the twilight: he's better in the full dark, even, than he is in these in-between hours. Bull stills for a moment, taking deep breaths as he tries to sort out where Dorian is again. He goes to the right and is rewarded with a breath of fresh scent.

He forces himself to move slower, thinking that Dorian might be close. He's also almost certain there's a dead end ahead.