Wish Plot [June]

[shok_ebasit_hissra]

"Dorian, you were in public. In daylight. You brought a dead animal back to life!" Bull scowled when Dorian retorted with something about his professionalism, with his skill. Bull didn't doubt Dorian's skill, of course he didn't. He had seen Dorian wield the power of the Fade on battlefields; he knew Dorian had figured out how to solve whatever it was Alexius did to him and the Inquisitor to move them in time.

But that wasn't the point.

"This is not Tevinter, and there is no Inquisitor here to protect you."

Even though he was annoyed, his voice remained even and calm, even in the face of Dorian getting sarcastic and sharp. All he could think of was the potential danger. There could be plenty of people out there interested in someone that could manipulate the dead like that. Maybe Darrow was more or less accepting of magic and mages, but that didn't make them safe.

Eventually, it wasn't worth keeping up the fight. Bull shook his head, and for now, he let it go. He fell into bed, wanting to just sleep the night off.

Come morning, Bull ached. He was awake early and couldn't quite make himself fall back asleep. So he rose and shuffled his way downstairs to start coffee for the two of them.

Comments

[propertool]

They both knew that Dorian's mood could be mercurial. That given a few hours or good sleep, waspishness turned to sheepishness, resentment to apology. That morning was no different. He floated downstairs in disarrayed hair, but a soporific, congenial mood, after the smell of Bull's strong coffee.

"Good morning, my dove," he greeted, with a white flag in his expression. He yawned until his jaw poppe and fell into his chair, palms spread on the table.