Chapter Text
It is truly pathetic, Dorian tells himself, just how accustomed to Bull’s presence he has gotten. Or rather, he supposes, how very unaccustomed he now is to the man’s absence. He tossed one volume of Magica Imperium aside and reached for another. Bull has been gone almost three weeks and even though he knew they were knee-deep in snow and red lyrium in Emprise du Lion Dorian found himself wishing he had gone with them. It had to be better than sitting here, going through useless tome after useless tome. He would never find Corypheus’s true name at this rate. If only he had…venhedis, Dorian knew it was bad when he found himself wishing for access to his father’s library.
“If you’re going to treat the ones I brought you as badly as you treat these I may just have to take them home with me.”
Dorian shot to his feet even as his eyes took in the sight of someone he’d never expected to see this far south. “Emile! What in Andraste’s ass are you doing here?”
“Such lovely imagery the south is teaching you Dorian,” Emile drawled, his lips turning slightly with a frown as he watched Dorian rush towards him.
Dorian stopped suddenly, realizing the south had taught him more lessons than Emile thought considering he’d been about to embrace the man. Settling instead for a firm clap of the shoulder which Emile reciprocated, Dorian allowed his eyes to wander over his old friend. Not, of course, that Emile could be considered old. He had fallen in age somewhere between Dorian and Felix and had been a good friend to both. The man’s chestnut hair was somewhat longer than had been the trend the last time Dorian had been in Tevinter, but the sparkle in his green eyes was just the same even if there were the slightest suggestions of laugh lines now creasing Emile’s face.
Kaffas, but it was good to see someone from home. Dorian couldn’t prevent himself from reaching to grip his friend’s shoulder again. “It’s good to see you Em.”
“And you Dorian,” Emile replied warmly before gesturing at Dorian’s little nook. “You look quite at home here.”
“Yes, well, one must simply have a spot to call their own.”
“Is that why you claimed every library you saw in Minrathous?” Emile laughed at Dorian’s slight blush before continuing, “I believe I have somethings that will make this place even more like home.”
“Oh really?”
Emile sobered, his eyes moistening as his focus slid off Dorian. “I brought Felix’s library Dorian, he wanted you to have it.”
“Oh. Oh, Felix,” Dorian whispered, thankful his chair was behind him or he was quite certain he’d have continued falling right to the ground.
“I also have a letter, but perhaps…”
Dorian wiped at an errant tear before looking up to find Emile hesitantly holding out an envelope bearing Felix’s seal. With a soft sigh, Dorian stood and took the letter, tucking it into his robes before pasting a smile on his face. “Come my friend, there will be time for that later. Let’s go see this great library you have brought and find you someplace to settle. You must be tired after your journey.”
“Ren, I can’t put you out of your own room,” Emile denied with a shake of his head.
“It really is quite alright. There are other places in the keep I can lay my head, just none that are quite fit for guests,” Dorian assured his friend. Just his luck that Josephine expected a contingent of Anders representatives in today. At least she had been able to arrange to store the multitude of crates Emile had arrived with until Dorian had a chance to sort through them.
“You could just stay here Ren, it’s not like it would be…”
“Yes, well, it wouldn’t be right this time Em. You see, that is…”
“Fasta vass, you don’t mean to tell me that you’re now a kept man?” The surprise in Emile’s voice might have been insulting if the look on his face hadn’t been so amusing. “Suddenly I see what the south has to offer that might tempt you to stay.”
“Oh Em, you have no idea,” Dorian admitted with a chuckle, wishing Bull were here to meet Emile. He was certain that moment would be one worthy of one of Varric’s horrible novels.
“Well then, since I know I won’t be leaving you without a place to rest, I shall stay here,” Emile agreed, dropping his traveling cloak casually on the bed before returning to tuck Dorian's arm through his own. “And now you shall feed me some of this horrible southern food and tell me all about this mystery man.”
“That my dear friend may take a while,” Dorian admitted with a sly grin. “Maybe over a pint of Ferelden Ale?”
“Oh Ren, the south has positively ruined you.”