#set after dorian giving a commencement speech to cumberland college in that one fic i wrote

[dreadfutures]

HAP FRI BLUE💜💜 I come for some platonic vibes this week maybe? how about dorian & ixchel with 'Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can’t even take a step’ + idiots in friendship + dorian calls her mula at LEAST once + one of them carries the other/gives a piggyback ride + at some point they collapse in a pile somewhere not designed for resting and decide it's too much effort to get back up ((hope you find some muse tonight bb❤))

Thanks mer!! for @dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Ixchel Lavellan & Dorian Pavus

-:-:-

Ixchel rested her head against the wall and heaved out a pealing giggle, eyes squeezing closed from how the scene tickled her.

"What are you-- Are you laughing at me?" Dorian cried.

"You're still in your stoles!" she said with another laugh. "What will the students think seeing their illustrious commencement speaker--" a hiccup interrupted her, and she clutched her one hand to her chest where it pained her "--like this?"

"Like what?" Dorian rolled his eyes. "So handsome?"

Ixchel cackled. "Have you looked in a mirror, lethallin?"

Dorian spluttered and self-consciously smoothed back his hair. "They'll hope they have this much fun when they're my age," he said primly. "And what about you, Lavellan? Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step!"

Ixchel turned, keeping her head touching the wall as she rotated slowly to glare at him. "Bet."

"I hope you're not trying to get money out of me, mula," Dorian huffed. "I am here on Chancellor De Fer's coin, not mine!"

"I think the campus deserves a nice vhenadahl," Ixchel mused. She gave Dorian a sly smile. "I think that red one, with the fruits, would be nice."

"Arbutus unedo?" Dorian said thoughtfully. "I'm sure I can get Vivienne and Fiona to put a nice plaque on it... 'Gift of House Pavus'... Alright, mula. Bet on."

Ixchel pushed off of the wall and took one exaggerated step forward. She paused, raised her eyebrows at Dorian daringly, and spread her arms. He raised his eyebrows right back at her and stroked his mustache with exaggerated critique in his gaze, as if judging her technique at some battle stance.

When Ixchel then scuttled forward several steps, her arms still wide for balance, Dorian couldn't help but double over in a fit of laughter--which put him at the perfect height for Ixchel to leap onto his back.

Dorian almost choked when her one remaining arm hooked around his neck, and he quickly caught her legs for support so she wouldn't hang on so tight.

"Maker forbid the students see this," Dorian said, aggrieved. "The dread Inquisitor so inebriated she cannae walk home, and the poor, poor Magister Pavus charged with the heroic task of bringing her home!"

"I can walk," Ixchel said. "I just did! And you owe me."

"Sure, sure," Dorian said, "but will you walk?"

Ixchel blew a wet sound into his ear. "I'm so tall, Dor! I never get to be this tall!"

He laughed again and just shook his head.

"And I don't talk like that," Ixchel added.

"Yes you do," Dorian said, "when you're drunk you sound straight out of Starkhaven. I don't even know where you picked it up."

Ixchel fell silent, frowning, as Dorian set off down the street. They made it nearly all the way down the long block that led from the dwarven merchant district where the most expensive bars were found (they had patronized several) and into the tourist district across the river. It was then that Ixchel, sleepily, said to Dorian:

"You didn't meet my Keeper, did you?" she asked. "They sound like that."

"Isn't that your nice young man's parent? Name started with a 't'?"

"Yeah, Terinelan," Ixchel said affirmatively.

"Then you all must be long lost children of Starkhaven," Dorian replied. "Try moving east, mula. Maybe there's a crown in it for you."

Ixchel dug her knees into his ribs just as they finish crossing the bridge, and Dorian broke into hysterical, ticklish laughter that proved to be their downfall.

Literally.

The pair went sprawling in the grass that lined the street, coming to rest tangled together among the decorative flowers planted so carefully there.

Dorian puffed with frustrated, unconquerable laughter, and Ixchel curled up under his arm, stifling her own laughter in his chest.

"Alright," Ixchel gasped. "Alright. I think--I think we need help."

"You need help," Dorian replied crossly. "I need help with you!"

He fished his necklace out of his shirt and held it to his lips. "Venhedis, come and fetch your wife!"

"And you too, I assume?" Solas's dry voice came in reply, muffled in Dorian's fist.

"Well, of course! I believe you were the one to call me the brightest mage of the age. It would be a great loss to leave me lying here in the street."

"Lying-- Pavus, what trouble have you gotten into this time?"

"Vhenan," Ixchel called, "I won a bet."

Solas's beleaguered sigh was unmistakable, even garbled through the crystal. "Congratulations, Ixchel. Now, where are you two? I shall fetch you two shortly, and Dorian can stay with us, I presume?"

Ixchel crowed in delight. "Just like old times!"