#nug jar

[shelovesplants]

Double Oreoz 😋💨

[sativafaeriemuva]

mini stash 🌳

[ghoullnextdoor]

Re-up day on my birthday 🎂 🥳

[weedstop]

time to smoke

[sativasunrises]

snuck a picture at work im not supposed to use my phone on the floor but look at this jar of weed lmao

[800-dick-pics]

this kilo of weed is not compressed into a brick and i do not own a jar big enough for it

[fairyth0ts]

mmmmmm

[cannabisloversblog]

✨ a treat 4 u ✨

[blinkbats]

God I had such a good time out in the woods this weekend. I felt so alive and so free and joyful I just kept thinking "I don't wanna hurt myself anymore!!! I wanna live!!!" over and over grinning like an idiot bc I haven't felt so bright and hopeful in months and months and months and months

[felassan]

Thoughts on the new images of the Lighthouse Part 2. DA:TV spoilers under cut.

[Link to Part 1]

I ran out of image allowance on the first post so I'm putting the rest here in this post.

I think maybe this is Davrin's room. on the righthand side, there are floor-to-ceiling windows (one part of them even has curtains) or even the whole wall cut away - this would be perfect for allowing Assan to fly out and fly in as he came and went. ^^ Corinne Busche said this about Davrin's room:

"When you see Davrin’s room, you’d certainly assume he’d be up watching the sunrise with that view. If only it weren’t in the fade"

with windows so big or a wall cutaway, you can see why Davrin's room is said to have an amazing view like this. :D

On the right hand side of the room is lots of things you'd need if you were into wood-carving/whittling, which is implied for Davrin by what he's doing in the Lighthouse group shot: stool, workbench/table with shelf space beneath, tools, a log of wood on the bench, what looks like a saw, piles of more logs, an axe to chop them with, a stump to split them on. on the workbench are some of his finished projects: a carved nug, a carved dragon, and there are other wooden carvings he's made elsewhere in the room. on the floor nearby it's scattered with I guess wood shavings/bits of broken wood from chopping wood.

Some more carvings Davrin has made - he makes so many :) here we have nugs and an adorable bear design. sidequest to help Davrin open an Etsy store.

Another standout thing about Davrin's room is all the monster stuff. of course, he's a monster hunter. Over the fireplace is the skull of a large creature. fixed to or hung from the ceiling are the bones that make up a large creature's spine (they remind me of dinosaur bones in museums). left of his armchair near a curtain is another big skull on the wall. there's a collection of horns hung from the ceiling and more smaller skulls on the wall behind that. other items along the monster-hunter theme are bits of bone(?) or horn(?) or something on his desk, annotated anatomical illustrations of different types of creatures (which ties into how he sees it as a specific skillset to hone, how he learns monsters' weaknesses to be able to exploit them etc), and the various glass containers - some of these look to contain monster parts (specimens or trophies?). Witcher vibes!

Nug diagram and a horn-like or tentacle-y specimen in the green jar.

Assan has been scratching the back of Davrin's chair like a cat hhh. can we gift them a griffon-sized scratching post pls? and next to Davrin's comfy chair by the fire is a rug or sheepskin kinda thing of some sort on the ground - for Assan to lie on when Davrin sits in the chair? ^^ how lovely. it looks like there's also a stick, bone or chew for him on the ground near that. maybe that's Davrin's outside coat draped over the top of the chair. and btew is the nug to the right of the fireplace a carved wood nug statue or a stuffed dead nug hh?

Halla statue? ^^

Right: Another halla statue? Center: Another? Left: Animal diagram with drawings of could be a halla (top) and a set of halla horns (the biggest horns in the center).

There's a halla statue in Bellara's room and one in Taash's room too, but if these things in Davrin's are all hallas, that's a lot of halla things in one. Coincidence, monster-hunting related (as they're animals), Dalish-related, or Ghil-related? it's been wondered if Davrin's vallaslin correspond to Ghilan'nain (which would add a layer to the story of 1. an elf encounters not just one of their gods but the one whose vallaslin theirs corresponds to, 2. a monster-hunter, as she's mother of monsters, and 3. a Grey Warden monster-hunter who just may have been killing the mutated darkspawn and mutated monsters emerging from Ghil's monster-pools lately).

I wonder if the silver chalices around the room are meant to evoke the Joining cup?

What are these green things at the window?

Davrin's room has some empty shelves. I noticed some empty shelves in Emmrich's room too. I'm assuming this is where companions will display the personalized gifts we can get to give them, like was mentioned in the second dev Q&A:

Corinne Busche: "Out in the world, and there in various locations, so you kinda stumble upon them, you can buy a gift that is very personal to any one of the companions, and then you go, you turn that into them, you give it to them, they have a nice acknowledgement. And then, the thing that’s just like so sweet about it, we’ve talked about how the companion rooms evolve over time, but if you go and get them one of these, like, very personalized gifts, they’ll display it in their room. Like it doesn’t go into some stats void. It’s actually on display."

(if so, I'm assuming there's such a place in each room not just their two ones; just, those places may be out of frame due to angle in the other images).

Outside of the room you can see more ruined ancient elven Fadey architecture.

Process of elimination leaves this as Lucanis' room. Lucanis?? 😭😭 in what looks like the kitchen storage room?? if you need a snack in the middle of the night do you either wake Lucanis up when you sneak in (he'd hear you with his senses) or encounter him still up because he can't sleep well that night in the corner with his demonic aura?

it's dark - check, dude who "hides in the dark". he doesn't appear to have many belongings or personal effects - check, dude who is practical and pragmatic. he's a lot less ostentatious than Illario.

there's food everywhere, including fresh produce and a returning Dragon Age classic, giant cheese wheels. :') likely there is more food in the sacks, baskets, crates/boxes and pots. sleeping here reminds me of what was said about Lucanis being one of the team cooks in the second dev Q&A:

John Epler: "Bellara and Lucanis actually end up being, essentially, the team cooks. Bellara, you know, spending a lot of time out in nature, learning a lot about, you know, different types of cooking, is really big on experimentation, she likes to, you know, try different things. Lucanis comes from the Crows, Lucanis is very big on the finer things, so between the two of them, there’s a point in the story where they basically decide, if we don’t do this, the entire team is going to starve, so let’s just call ourselves the cook, cooks, and make sure that nobody dies of food poisoning, so."

I wonder if the chests contain food, other supplies or Lucanis' belongings.

Another one of these things. There's one in Neve's room and Bellara's too. maybe there's one in each companion room and the other screenshots were just taken from an angle where they can't be seen? again I'm so curious what these are for (or maybe they're just decor).

[Link to Part 1]

[shelovesplants]

Purple space cookies 💜💨

[gamergoddess003]

Stoner Daryl

Summary: Y/n is new to Alexandria and meets Daryl. She thinks Daryl is attractive as soon as she sees him. Daryl invites her over to smoke and he finds himself thinking she is cute.

Warnings: Use of marijuana and tobacco, cussing, p in v, oral female receiving, grinding, a little fluff.

Note: Daryl is mid 40s and the reader is mid 20s. Pre-saviors.

Another note: If you are reading for the cute Daryl stoner part, I’ll mark where you can skip the smut part of the story with a red line. The ending has more stoner and fluff.

____________________

Being new to Alexandria, y/n didn’t really know anyone. She stuck around Rosita for the first few days because Rosita was the one who found her and brought her here.

Sitting on the front porch of Rosita and Abraham’s house, y/n and Rosita talked about random things that came to mind. Y/n looked over towards the gates and saw a man ride in on a motorcycle.

“Who’s that?” Y/n asked.

“That’s Daryl. He’s been out on a run for a week. He likes to go out by himself. He actually lives across the street.”

Daryl rode his motorcycle into his driveway and got off. He looks over and sees Rosita waving at him and he waves back then went inside.

Rosita looks over at y/n and sees that her face is starting to blush a little bit. She asked if she was alright and y/n slowly looked up at Rosita and said,

“Uhh.. I.. I haven’t seen a man so.. I donno.”

Rosita smiled and looked at y/n with the face of that she knows what y/n was trying to say. Hearing Daryl come out of his house, Rosita called him over. Y/n looked at Rosita with wide eyes, then looked at Daryl walk up. He was even more attractive up close.

As Rosita introduced y/n to Daryl, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. He held out the pack to y/n and she took a cigarette and lit one too.

“That shit stinks. I’m going inside.” Rosita complained and then left.

It was awkward silence for a moment and then Daryl sat on the front step on the porch. He didn’t have that much to say but he did ask questions to get to know her a little bit.

They talked for about 15 minutes and within that time, y/n got more comfortable talking to him and told him that she used to smoke weed before the fall and that she hasn’t been able to smoke since then.

Daryl looked at her for a moment and asked her if she wanted to smoke. She accepted the offer and they both walked to Daryl’s house. Apparently Daryl lives in the basement.

Y/n sat on the couch and Daryl walked over to his dresser and pulled out a tray, a jar of weed, and some papers that he uses to roll joints and cigarettes when he couldn’t find any. He sat next to her on the couch and went on to start breaking down some nugs of weed. Y/n picked up a bright green nug. She smelled it and let out a sigh with a smile.

“Mmmmm.. I haven’t smelled weed in so long. My mouth is watering.” She chuckled.

Daryl looked at her and smiled and huffed a laugh through his nose. He decided to let her get the first hit and handed her a joint and a lighter.

Since it at been so long that she smoked weed, it didn’t take her much to get high. She was so high that she really came out of her shell and wouldn’t stop talking.

Daryl sat and listened and started to realize that he found her cute. He didn’t know what to do at first because it’s been a while since he felt that way, so he left to go upstairs to get some water.

When he sat back down, he sat closer to her, making his leg press against hers. She looked away, feeling all types of butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.

He leaned back and stretched his arm across the back of the couch. Y/n didn’t notice that he did that and when she leaned back, she felt his bicep touching the back of her neck. Looking over at Daryl, her eyes met with his and they sat in silence. His eyes lowered down to her lips and back up at her eyes.

Y/n licked her lips which made him look at her lips again. He slowly leaned in and placed a light kiss on her lips then slowly broke the kiss, backing away only inches from her face. She looked in his eyes and smiled. Daryl wrapped his arm around her pulling her closer and kissed her again, but this time it lasted longer.

Drowning in their kiss, y/n reached her hand up and placed it on his jawline.

___

With his other hand, he placed it on her thigh and it made shivers go down her spine. She wanted him.

She stuck her tongue out a little, making it touch his lips. He smiled into the kiss and proceeded stick his tongue all the way in her mouth and moved it around her’s. While he passionately made out with her, his hand moved to the inside of her thigh and squeezed it (not too hard), making her arch her back.

Daryl sat back and y/n climbed on top of him. Whilst continuing their kiss, she slowly moved her hips around, grinding on him. He slid his hands under her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back on his rough hands. He pulled the shirt up and over her head then went on to unhook her bra, revealing her breasts.

Daryl let out a deep breath and grabbed her ass, picking her up. He walked over and laid her on his bed, then started to kiss her again. He migrated his kiss down her jaw, neck, then onto her chest. With one hand, he grabbed one breast and kissed the other one.

The feel of his beard and lips and the warmth of his breath touching her bare chest sent tingles with down her spine and she arched her back. Daryl stuck out his tongue and traced it down her stomach and kissed her lower belly, right above her pants. He stood up some and started to unbutton her jeans.

Slipping off her jeans and panties, he proceeded to take off his vest and unbuttoned his shirt and tossed them on the bed. He knelt down on the floor putting his face between her legs.

Y/n sat up on her elbows and looked at him being so close to her private area. Seeing her face, he smirked and kissed the inside of her thigh, making his way closer to her core. His breath was warm as he hovered his mouth close, and he looked up at her for approval. Not stopping him, he pecked a kiss on her clit and the feeling made her lay back. He chuckled a warm-breathed laugh on her and sunk his tongue between her folds.

She quickly took a deep breath and let out a soft, long moan.

“Mmmm it’s been so long.” Y/n moaned.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs because she kept squirming. How could she not squirm when Daryl has his tongue deep inside her pussy, making her heart race from the adrenaline.

When Daryl was done eating her cunt, making it sloppy wet, he stood up, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down to his ankles. He leaned over y/n and looked her right in the eyes, and started to trace circles with his cock all in her wetness.

Y/n gasped as he slipped the head of his dick inside her and let out a moan as he pushed the rest of his long, girthy cock deep inside her.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Daryl said as he slid inside.

After a moment of being still, he was looking at the expression on her face and it pleased him to know she was in bliss because of him. He moved in and out of her slowly so she could get used to his size.

Speeding up the pace, he ended up having to cover y/n’s mouth to muffle her loud moans of pleasure.

“Ohhh Daryl, I’m about to cum!” She moaned into his hand.

Daryl slammed into her harder and she filled up with her gooey orgasm, soaking Daryl’s cock. The feel of her warm wetness made Daryl reach his climax. He pulled out and ejaculated in the basket of dirty clothes next to the bed.

Y/n laid on the bed for a moment and then asked for something to clean herself with. Daryl pulled up his pants and walked upstairs, shirtless, to get a towel.

Carol was standing in the kitchen and saw Daryl come from the direction of his room and into the bathroom, exiting with a towel in his hand. He saw her in his peripheral and looked at her. He stood there like he was a deer caught in the headlights. Carol raised an eyebrow and Daryl blinked then went back downstairs.

“That was awkward.” He thought to himself as he walked down the stairs.

Daryl handed y/n the towel.

___

As she cleaned herself up and got dressed, he sat on the couch, still shirtless, and rolled another joint. When he looked up, he noticed that y/n was standing there and was wearing only her panties and the shirt he wore that day, which was thrown on the bed next to her. (The vest felt too big and was uncomfortable because of the leather.)

He smiled at her. He thought she was cute with her slightly messy hair and wearing his shirt.

He lit the joint and walked over to the bed and sat against his pillow and the headboard. Y/n crawled up in bed next to him and laid down. Daryl passed her the joint and moved to position himself on the bed next to her, pulling the blanket over the both of them.

Exhausted from the sexual activity between her and Daryl, and smoking another joint, y/n got tired. She fell asleep cuddled next to Daryl. Daryl couldn’t sleep though. He laid there with his arm around her and she had her head and hand on his chest, and he reminisced in his thoughts.

(The next day)

Y/n was standing in the kitchen of the house she stayed in with Rosita, making something for lunch. Rosita walks in and looks at y/n.

“Where were you last night? I never saw you come back in.” Rosita asks.

“I was at Daryl’s. We smoked and I... I got..tired.. and fell asleep..”

“Are you sure that all that happened? You paused for a second.”

“Wellll…….” Y/n says as she looks away then back at Rosita.

“I’ve just never known Daryl to be an intimate kind of person. He’s usually quiet and keeps to himself.” Rosita exclaims.

Y/n huffed a laugh out of her nose with a smirk and says,

“Quiet guys fuck the hardest.”

[ghoullnextdoor]

My day was made 🌿✨️🤌🏻

[weedstop]

peach cobbler - hybrid

[theheraldsrest]

I didn't realize it had gone through as a submission my bad 😂

Inquisition LIs reaction to hearing their Inquisitor through a door saying things like "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, you are a gift from the Maker, I love you, I'd die for you, etc.", thinking they're with someone else and running in, just to find out the Inq. is talking to a baby nug/Mabari pup they snuck into Skyhold?

“Romanced Companions reacting to Secret Baby Nug/Mabari Pup”

Here you go and thank you again, @queer-edmundpevensie for the ask! Also, more jokes!

When the Inquisitor asked Bull if he had a spare plug they could use, he said “Sorry, I don’t have any Chargers.” (Maybe a little sorry)

-Lord Lex

Cullen

”I- Honestly, I can’t even blame you for your choice of words. He is handsome.”

-Was split between being upset and feeling remorse. If indeed you had found someone else, you would most definitely deserve someone better than him but you could have at least told him. Pleasantly surprised to find the nug/mabari. Maker forbid if it’s a mabari because he will dote on that thing, saying how your “true love” is a very good boy.

Josephine

“Love, who are you talking to-? Oh! Aren’t they just the sweetest!”

-Didn’t doubt you for a second. She knows that if there was something wrong with you two, you’d tell her. Also, your wording was a little strange for if you were talking to someone else. Suggests on getting it a collar. You actually might be the jealous one when you find her cuddling it more than you.

Solas

“...”

-What was he expecting? Not this. But he has full fate in you to know you wouldn’t go behind his back if your feelings had changed. Honestly a little jealous of the mabari/nug. It’s actually kinda cute- wait, how did you even get it into Skyhold? Oh well. He’ll also tell you about how, in old tales, different animals used to run through Skyhold so having it here just makes sense.

If they go missing, it’s because they started following Solas around. No, he doesn’t know why.

Cassandra

“Inquisitor, I-!...How did you manage to get that here?”

-Yes, she was a little irked that you might be with someone behind her back. And yes, she does feel horrible that she’d assume the worst. She’ll admit what she was thinking was going on and apologize. Cassandra, to most people’s surprise, is a big softie when it comes to animals so her confusion and irritation is put on hold when your chosen creature looks at her with them big ol’ eyes.

The Iron Bull

“Well, Varric owes me money.”

-He knew from the beginning that you snuck it in. But hearing you talk in such a way to it did make him pause. If you two are only fooling around right now, he doesn’t mind and doesn’t care who you sleep with. Now, if you’re his kadan, might be a different story. But, again, he knew you had the creature somewhere and that certainly sounds like how you’d baby an animal. Lo and behold, he was right and Varric has less pocket gold. Also, if you don’t stop him, he’ll carry the animal around like a baby.

Dorian

“Dearest. Amatus. Love of my life. My chosen partner….What the fuck.”

-One of the only people who puts up with your shit anymore. He’ll be one of the people who is severely split. Yes, you deserve better than him, knowing his history and how he can act sometimes. But also how dare you go behind his back when he has given you his heart? He has to pause to let his heart settle after walking in on you cuddling the thing before he very irritable tells you to watch your wording.

Sera

“Alright, what the fuck! Who are you talking-? Wait, that’s not a person.”

-Fully thought it was someone else and wanted to rain hell on them. So it was a little shocking to see your door kicked open and Sera holding a jar of bees at the ready. If you choose a mabari over a nug, she’ll put the bees away and start petting it, acting like nothing happened. Now, if you choose a nug, she’ll make a disgusted face and back away. Not very fond of nugs, but fond of you.

Blackwall

“I’m gonna admit it, I thought there was someone else in here. Glad to see I was both wrong and right.”

-Same boat as Cullen, he kinda expected you to find someone else by now. Hurt his feelings a bit to know that you might have a secret admirer other than him. Does not find it funny (ok, maybe a little) if you name the beast after him. It’s even more funny to see him try to watch his step around it, especially a nug, as he would not like to step on the creature that has your affection.

[jazzmckay]

oh! kiss meme, adoribull, 36 :)

36. …to give up control.

excellent prompt, tysm!! it was a fun challenge :> i totally meant to write smut, because obviously, but then my brain went places and now here's this sort of abstract interpretation of the prompt. i should still write the smut tho. it's what they deserve.

so, featuring: dorian pining and sorting through Tevinter Baggage, and dorian & sera friendship because i love them your honour.

***

Dorian stands at the window of his library nook, a book balanced on one palm to act as a guise. His attention is not on the page of yet another borderline useless tome, but through the foggy glass that grants him a view of the courtyard below. The portcullis has been cranked open, where a couple dozen mounts are saddled and ready, their riders taking their places. At the front, The Iron Bull pulls himself onto his massive Frostback elk, then calls something to the others gathered around him.

Dorian wonders what Bull is saying, but it was his own decision to remain at a distance rather than seeing the Chargers off.

When subtly pressed, Adaar divulged that they would be cleaning raiders out of the Hinterlands. That’s not overly far. Better than crossing Orlais to the Wastes, certainly. They won’t be gone so long.

With a soft sigh, Dorian turns from the window, not wanting to watch them leave. He makes a conscious effort to actually read the passage that his unseeing eyes roved over and over while he was utterly distracted watching the Chargers gear up and get ready to go.

In the end, he wishes he hadn’t bothered with the book. No better than drivel. Dorian pushes the book back onto the shelf, and decides he would be better served finding a different distraction.

*

The first time Rilienus leaned in for a kiss, Dorian turned his face away, receiving upon his neck what was meant for his lips. He’d wanted to kiss Rilienus, he’d wanted that and much, much more—more than they could ever have together. Dorian already knew what was planned for both of them, and it was only a matter of time.

He should not get attached. (He was already attached.) He should not allow himself to consider what-ifs. (He had already wondered if Rilienus would risk as much as Dorian would for a chance at true happiness.) Giving someone so much sway over his heart is a terrifying, dangerous thing. (Luckily—or unluckily—Dorian does not scare easily.)

Rilienus didn’t push the matter. In time, Dorian still ended up learning the shape and taste of his lips anyway.

What a tragedy, that.

*

“Bet it takes you so long to get out of those buckles it counts as edging.”

Dorian snorts inelegantly. He will blame that on the crude southern wine they’re drinking tonight. “If you fell asleep in the stables, the horses would mistake your hair for hay.”

Sera wiggles her toes as she laughs. Her foot is braced upon Dorian’s thigh, and he’s trying his darnedest to keep his hand steady enough to paint her toenails with grace despite how sloppy they’ve gotten over the course of the night. It’s more than late; the tavern around them has emptied, leaving them to hide away in Sera’s wonderful little nest.

“Do ‘Vints take classes in school for how to be prissy?”

“As a matter of fact, we do.” Dorian carefully sweeps the brush along the curve of Sera’s nail, finishing off the smallest toe. “At least I retained something of my education.”

She huffs and kicks him with her other foot, upon which the paint is already dry. “Not a good thing! They teach you nug dung!”

Dorian chuckles under his breath as he caps the paint jar and slides closer to her on the bench, repositioning her legs across his lap. He grabs their current bottle of wine to take a mouthful of it, then rests back in the many pillows Sera has amassed over the months. It’s surprisingly comfortable. More comfortable than lying alone in his own room.

As he drinks, she waves her foot around, inspecting it. “Now I’ve gotta act like an elfy elf and walk around barefoot so everyone can see.”

“You do not,” Dorian says. He hands her the bottle back. “They should please you first and foremost, before anyone else. Or you should finally sleep with that Valo-Kas you’ve been drooling over.”

“Oi.” She nudges him with her leg. “Don’t get on my arse about drooling.”

Groaning, Dorian tips his head back into the pillows, closing his eyes. Sera was with them and Adaar when The Iron Bull so casually announced their affairs, completely shameless and lacking in tact, as if he had nothing to hide.

It should not have been stirring. But to hear a man publicly address their budding relationship, and to revel in it? That was new and rousing, even if equally frustrating, as Dorian’s inclination is still to remain quiet about such things. Being open about his affections is a fairy tale.

The Iron Bull didn’t seem to think it so complicated.

The wine bottle gets pushed against his shoulder. “Can see you tying your head into knots,” Sera says softly, half in empathy, half sleepily.

Dorian accepts the bottle and takes a drink. It’s light in his grasp—almost finished. They should probably call it a night, but Dorian is quite comfortable exactly where he is, here with Sera draped over him and the scent of wine and varnish in the air.

“It’s been a fortnight,” Dorian says. I miss him, is what he means.

“Didn’t seem too fussed about him leavin’.”

No, of course not. Despite The Iron Bull’s lack of subtlety, their relationship is still largely a secret—Dorian has no doubt that the knowledge has spread a little, but not too broadly, for which he is grateful. Having attachments, he has learned, is risky, and it is even riskier for those attachments to be known by others. He has made it more complicated by growing fond of a qunari, even if said qunari recently became Tal-Vashoth. That distinction would not matter a jot to people like his parents.

Not that he particularly cares what they think anymore, but old habits die hard.

“Bit daft, if you ask me,” Sera continues. She pauses to yawn, then burrows into the cushions. “You find someone like that, you should be yelling it from the rooftops.”

Dorian’s chest clenches, and he curls his fingers tighter around the neck of the wine bottle. If only it could be so simple to let joy override reason, to think nothing of consequences, to not only let someone have all of him, but to let the world know it to be the case. To be open about one’s affections is to invite everyone else’s opinion, to invite all manner of weakness and vulnerabilities. This is a lesson Dorian learned the hard way.

He lifts the bottle and drinks the last of it, setting it on the floor with the one they already emptied earlier. How nice it would be, to have Sera’s certainty and boldness when it comes to matters of love.

“You are far wiser than your conduct suggests,” Dorian says, as light-hearted as all their jabs at each other.

When Sera doesn’t respond, he glances over at her, finding her with her face squished into the pillows, lips slightly parted as she breathes in an even ebb and flow. Dorian can’t help but smile to himself at the sight. To think she once looked upon him with wariness.

Carefully, Dorian gathers her legs again, slipping out from beneath her and laying them back down on the cushions. He is in no rush to return to his own room, so he simply sits back down on the other end of the bench, removes his boots, and fits his legs up alongside hers, letting the wine and the soft rhythm of her breathing lull him to sleep.

*

Adaar and Josephine have become sickeningly sweet in recent days. They greet guests and diplomats to Skyhold while arm in arm, and Adaar always leans down to kiss Josephine before they part ways, sometimes on the lips, sometimes on the cheek. Their love is evident in how they smile at each other. Dorian is happy for them.

They make it look so easy.

Feeling wistful, Dorian imagines how it might have felt to have that with Rilienus, if their Tevinter peers cared not for the fact that they were two men, just as no one here cares that Adaar and Josephine are two women, one of whom is an Antivan with status while the other used to be naught but a qunari mercenary.

It’s still a pretty fantasy to think of what might have been with Rilienus, but Dorian knows a little something about falling for a qunari mercenary himself. His imaginings quickly turn to The Iron Bull’s large hand resting against his back, to the way he laughs deep and unrestrained, to fighting beside each other so intuitively, to how he makes Dorian feel like something precious in their private moments.

Dorian would not like to look back on this years from now with yearning, wishing he had allowed himself more. Not when the only thing stopping him from having more right now is himself.

*

As the week comes to a close, Dorian grows ever more agitated, wishing he knew when the Chargers would be back in Skyhold. It can’t be much longer now, he thinks.

He used to be so much more patient than this. His dalliance with Rilienus had been careful and covert—they couldn’t be seen slipping away together too often, they had to make time between their obligations, they were used to stolen moments and pretending not to care so deeply while in the presence of others.

Dorian supposes he doesn’t find the clandestine nature of it as romantic as it felt at the time. Now, he wants something solid, something he can rely on. He wants to be at The Iron Bull’s side whenever he so chooses.

He wants to let go of the lessons taught to him by his home country.

During a game of chess with Cullen, Dorian maintains a casual expression as he asks, “Is there any word on when the Chargers will be returning?”

Cullen lifts his eyes from the board to regard him, but as Dorian anticipated, he doesn’t question Dorian’s reason for asking, merely says, “They sent a raven when they finished their mission; they’re already well on their way back to Skyhold.”

As someone who doesn’t like others prying into his business, Cullen tends not to do much prying himself, unless he must as Commander. They’re friends, besides—Dorian wouldn’t even mind telling Cullen about his relationship with The Iron Bull. But Cullen doesn’t ask, and Dorian enjoys the opportunity to play at shifting his boundaries without being questioned.

He also takes the opportunity to nudge a chess piece onto a different tile while Cullen’s attention is upwards.

Cullen still takes the game despite Dorian’s best efforts. He was, perhaps, a little distracted with the thought of having The Iron Bull back in his bed before long.

*

Dorian is sitting in the library with a book open on his thigh when the horn sounds from below to signal a returning party. Without even considering it first, he snaps the book shut, sets it aside, and stands. He has never greeted The Iron Bull and the Chargers at the gates before, always waiting until it would not be out of place, until they can convene in one of their bedchambers for the night, but this time will be different.

He takes the steps down into the base of the rotunda, then into the main hall. No one glances twice at him, no one wonders where he’s going or why. It’s easy as anything to continue outside, into the lower courtyard, where there’s a bit of bustle as the stables are being prepared for mounts that need tending, and others merely wait to see friends return. The Chargers are well-liked. They tend to have an audience when they’re all gathered together like this.

It isn’t a long wait, blissfully. The clop and clatter of horse hooves sounds against the bridge leading into the keep, and then the Chargers—with The Iron Bull at the helm—are pouring through the raised portcullis, looking travel-worn but whole and happy to be home. The Iron Bull is always a sight to behold, but especially now, he is in his element, looking every part the strong, powerful mercenary, all muscle and assurance.

Needing to be at this side, Dorian starts forward, weaving his way through the onlookers. All of them will see him approach the Chargers, all of them will be watching. There is still a kneejerk lurch in Dorian’s stomach at the thought of losing this secret, of having to weather whatever follows, but he intends to be fearless again.

The Iron Bull dismounts and rolls his shoulders back, warding away the stiffness that comes from riding long distances. He turns, almost immediately spotting Dorian in the crowd. He smiles openly, though it’s still restrained, as he knows Dorian worries about what people will think.

Dorian smiles back. He breaks through the throng of people and continues up to the Chargers, who are starting to draw their horses over to the stables. The Iron Bull only stands where he is, at his mount’s flank, and watches Dorian intently.

“Hey, big guy. Missed me that much, did you?” he says when Dorian reaches him, low enough not to be overheard.

Normally, Dorian might make a quip rather than respond with honesty, hiding behind flippancy or even jests. Today, he says, “Very much so.”

He lifts a hand, resting it on the strap of The Iron Bull’s harness, fingertips hooking over the top of the heavy leather. Kissing The Iron Bull like this is always so deliberate—Dorian must stretch up on the tips of his toes, or else tug The Iron Bull closer. He does both, and sees the question on The Iron Bull’s face before Dorian captures his lips in a kiss.

Dorian has always been too aware of those around them during moments of stolen intimacy in public. Every time they end up leaning into each other at the Herald’s Rest, every time they catch each other’s gaze too long to be merely friendly, every gesture that can be interpreted as more—but now, he thinks nothing of their surroundings. The ache in his chest from missing The Iron Bull begins to unravel, smoothing into affection and contentment. The Iron Bull wraps an arm around his back, solid and warm.

It’s like restrictive bonds being cut loose. Like being released from a cage of his own making.

“Dorian?” The Iron Bull murmurs against his lips, asking for an explanation through tone more than words.

“Let them see; let them think what they will,” Dorian says. He cannot control how others will react, nor how this may change others’ perception of him, but he has made the choice to not compromise himself for others before. He can do it again. “Besides, they should all know you’re mine, I think.”

The Iron Bull grins crookedly, slipping his hand lower on Dorian’s back and tugging him closer by the hips. “Is that so?”

“Naturally. I will demonstrate this fact,” Dorian says, “after you no longer smell of blood and horse.”

In response, The Iron Bull nuzzles his nose into Dorian’s cheek, laughing softly when Dorian sighs.

This is the man who holds Dorian’s heart, and Dorian has no regrets, not about their relationship, nor about what others think. It’s freeing to acknowledge that. To no longer hide, to no longer fret, to no longer keep such a firm grasp on a secret that should not need to be a secret at all.

Dorian smiles and squeezes his fingers around The Iron Bull’s arm, finding himself not only unafraid of this public intimacy, but savouring it.

It’s something he’s been missing, and he’ll never have to go without it again.