Work Text:
Bored.
Dorian sighed.
They had arrived back at the keep a few days prior from the Emerald Graves and were taking a much longed for rest period after several weeks of travel.
But Dorian was already bored.
He had already consumed nearly every book in Skyhold's library and his new shipment of books from Val Royeaux wasn't due for another week.
Athim had made plans for the day and was so unavailable.
Varric said he wanted to spend some 'private time' with Bianca. Dorian didn't even want to consider what that entailed.
And for once, drinking until he couldn't piss straight with the Chargers sounded blasé at best.
Dorian was out of ideas.
He wandered the library, running his fingers gently over the spines of books and sighing. His overdramatic melancholy drew many looks and the occasional glare from the smattering of mages and scouts who were using the library for legitimate study, all of which Dorian ignored.
He circled back the way he had come, this time letting the tips of his fingers over the railing which overlooked the rotunda.
Then he stopped, a smile curling his lips as his eyes happened to glance down into the room below.
When Athim had informed Dorian that she had other plans for the day which did not involve spending time with her best Tevinter friend he had suspected it had something to do with the apostate.
He had never imagined this particular scenario however.
Solas and Athim were sleeping together.
Not in the fun way.
The pair were curled up on the small couch, foreheads just barely touching, arms draped gently around each other.
Dorian leaned against a pillar leaving one arm resting on the railing. He watched them with a soft smile on his face.
It was sweet. From this distance he couldn't make out their exact expressions but they seemed happy. Athim deserved a little happy after everything she'd been through.
Just as Dorian was about to step away from the railing and resume his malcontent wandering, he saw Athim stir.
He watched her eyes open, followed moments later by Solas.
Dorian couldn't see her eyebrows pull down in anger or frustration but he could imagine it as she jerked away from the man and stood up.
Solas called her something, that elven nickname, as he sat up. Athim responded in Elvhen and crossed her arms.
Elvhen.
Dorian rolled his eyes. It was much harder to eavesdrop on people when they were speaking a language you didn't understand.
Luckily Athim was hardly a subtle individual. Dorian could tell from her voice and aggressive movements that she was displeased about something.
Solas spoke again in Elvhen, sounding nonplussed by Athim’s obvious irritation. He hadn’t even stood. His calm inversely increased her agitation and when she spoke again both her voice and gestures were louder.
It was a careful balance, trying to watch close enough to figure out what was happening despite the language barrier without attracting attention. Dorian grabbed a book from a nearby table and flipped it open in his hands, a smoke screen if he was to be spotted.
Based on their body language and tone Dorian guessed that Solas didn't quite understand why Athim was angry with him, which only made her more angry.
Dorian was also at a loss as to the source of her frustration. As far as he could tell they had gone to sleep copesetic and she woke up mad.
He wished he had taken her up on her offer to teach him basic Elvhen.
With a final exclamation of exasperation (one which Dorian finally understood. Athim cursed in Elvhen regularly enough that he was familiar with the particular phrase) Athim turned and stormed out of the room.
Solas stood as she did, reaching out for her, words dying on his open lips as the door slammed behind her. He dropped his hand and his shoulders slumped.
Go after her you idiot.
Dorian watched over the edge of his book as Solas began to pace restlessly. The argument appearing to have shaken him.
While not overly fond of the apostate himself, Dorian knew what he meant to Athim. He wondered briefly if he should check on his friend. He quickly decided against it; doing so would betray his nefarious observation. If she needed him she would reach out.
For a few minutes Solas alternated between pensive pacing and leaning over his work table, throwing apprehensive glances at the door every few seconds. Then he seemed to have an idea.
His shoulders straightened and he too left the rotunda, taking the door which led out of the keep and into the ramparts.
Dorian watched him go with a bemused expression. Solas was nothing if not clever. He'd think of something. Dorian considered what he would do if he made Athim angry; how he would make it up to her.
He'd probably let her set him on fire.
He sighed and tossed the book he held onto a nearby table, momentary distraction clearly at an end.
Bored again.
Maybe he would get drunk with the Chargers.
Several days later Dorian once again found himself leaning on the library's railing with a book in his hands.
Although this time he was reading.
His order of books had finally arrived and he was making the most of the rest time they had left to get started on them.
There was trouble in Emprise du Lion, and preparations were already underway for the trip there.
Dorian was not looking forward to the trip.
He hated the cold.
Catching movement in the room below out of the corner of his eye Dorian adjusted his focus away from the book.
But it was only Solas milling about the rotunda as usual.
Dorian noted that he hadn't seen the apostate for a while. Not since the fight with Athim.
He'd seen her. They had shared a bottle at the Herald but she had made no mention of Solas, but that wasn't surprising.
She didn't talk about her and Solas' relationship much. They obviously did nothing to hide that they were together, but details were scarce.
At first this had bothered Dorian. He was her best friend after all. The closer they became however the more clear it became that it was just her way. She kept her relationships very separate from one another. She shared as little regarding their friendship with Solas as she did the pair's relationship with him.
Dorian went back to his book. It was a newly published work on High Dragon hunting patterns and was remarkably more interesting than he had anticipated. Then a slam echoed from the room below and his attention was seized again.
The sound was the door, slamming into the wall as Athim tore into the room. Dorian watched as Solas barely had enough time to turn around before the redhead leapt onto him. She wrapped her arms around the other elf and planted a kiss directly on his slightly open, startled mouth.
Dorian had to suppress a laugh. He supposed that meant the fight was over.
His amusement had time to die down in the time they kissed. It went on long enough that Dorian went back to his book. Solas' southern drifting hands making even the lascivious vint uncomfortable.
At long last Athim broke the kiss and began babbling in Elvhen. Dorian recognized the words for thank you, beautiful, and that nickname the two constantly used for each other. It was clear Solas had done something impressive.
Solas, for his part, looked positively sheepish at Athim’s fawning. Dorian was tickled at his reaction, embarrassment such an unfamiliar expression on the apostate who wore aloofness like Dorian wore fine silks. Which was always.
Athim took Solas’ face between her palms and kissed him again, cutting off a halting stream of awkward Elvhen. The apostate didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Watching the exchange and Solas’ flustered reaction Dorian lost the battle with his own amusement and guffawed out loud.
This was an action he immediately regretted.
Both Athim and Solas’ attention immediately shifted to the balcony where Dorian stood, hand over his mouth and eyes gleaming with laughter.
Solas’ face turned crimson and he coughed into his hand, averting his eyes. Athim through narrowed her eyes, lips thinning out with annoyance. She said something to Solas in Elvhen then started for the circular stairs which led to the library.
Oh dear.
Dorian’s amusement drained away immediately and he headed out the opposite door at a pace which others in the library would have described as panicked.
Now that the moment was upon him the mage decided he’d changed his mind.
He’d rather she didn’t set him on fire.