Filled with Earnestness

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28 August, 9:41

Leaning back in her chair, Antonia sighed. One last letter for the day, and she couldn't seem to get it finished.

"Are you finally done with those tiresome papers, my dear?" Dorian asked, looking up from his book. He was stretched out on the settee in her quarters, perusing a volume of early Fereldan poetry, alternately wincing and laughing. "I thought we were going to play chess."

"We are, just as soon as I finish writing this letter. Some Nevarran noble has offered to give us a lot of money if he gets a personal blessing in writing from the Inquisitor."

"No doubt he'll keep it in his boudoir, to look at as he goes to bed at night." He winked at her over the top of his book, leaving no doubt as to what he thought the noble would be doing at the time.

"Don't be filthy."

"You're no fun."

"You have a strange definition of fun, my friend."

"Someone around here has to." Dorian put the book down on his chest and grinned at her. "Skyhold is lovely, but everyone's so serious."

"You think that has something to do with the thousand-year-old darkspawn and the dragon?" Antonia picked up her pen again, determined to finish this ridiculous blessing. "They did destroy Haven."

"Ah, but no. You destroyed Haven; Corypheus and his dragon were merely the reason."

"Don't remind me." She shivered. Sometimes she dreamed she was still there, either facing the dragon and Corypheus knowing she was going to die, or trapped in the air pocket under the snow, unable to get out. "There should have been another way."

Dorian swung his legs over the side of the settee, sitting up and looking at her intently. "Everyone was already out; there was nothing left there but empty buildings."

"I suppose."

"You're as much a perfectionist as the Commander. If things don't go exactly right—"

"Dorian, people died!"

"This is war, Antonia; that's what happens in war."

"I know." She tossed aside the pen, heedless of the ink spatters on the paper. She wasn't going to finish that letter today anyway. Getting up from behind the desk, she walked to the open doors leading on to her balcony and looked out into the mountains in the direction of Haven. "No, that's wrong. I didn't know. I'd never been in combat before, not like that. I'd fought, but mostly me against someone else. To be in Haven and watch those men fall on my behalf—" She looked down at the mark on her hand, then closed the hand into a fist so she wouldn't have to see it any longer. "I wasn't prepared for it."

"You did it superbly." Dorian came up behind her. "You put yourself in front; you stood between all of us and the danger. I was there in the Chantry—there was no hesitation in you. I followed you to face Corypheus and his dragon; I didn't do that out of any death wish of my own, I can assure you." He chuckled. "I quite like living."

"Then why did you?"

"Because you were doing the right thing, and you made me want to as well."

Antonia turned to look at him. "You're very serious today."

"It's the air. It's filled with earnestness."

"Is it? That explains a few things." She wandered out onto the balcony, looking over the muddy courtyards of Skyhold. People were busy down there, building and cleaning and digging, and here she was and she couldn't write one ridiculous letter.

"You see? You just felt it, right there."

"It's hard not to."

She caught sight of a familiar blond head moving in the lower courtyard. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend she could even hear his voice.

"He does set a rather high standard, doesn't he?" Dorian said softly.

"Maybe too high." Antonia turned away.

"Still haven't worked up the courage to tell him?"

She shook her head, going back inside her quarters.

"Why ever not?"

Antonia groaned, sinking down on the end of her bed. "Dorian, this whole Inquisition thing—I don't know what I'm doing, and they made me Inquisitor and—he stood behind me, the way he always has ... What if I tell him how I feel and he thinks it's wildly inappropriate of me to be thinking of such things at such a time?"

"My dear, if you could see the way he looks at you when you're not looking at him, you would know better." Dorian leaned against the doorframe, his mustache twitching as he smiled. "It's really quite adorable."

"Adorable? Dorian, I think you're the only person in Skyhold, possibly in Thedas, who would refer to the Inquisitor and the Commander of the Inquisition as adorable."

"Which is why you love me."

"It is." They smiled at one another. Being sent forward in time together had created a bond between them; they were the only two people in Skyhold who knew firsthand the future they were trying to save the world from. Beneath his innate flippancy, Dorian was as committed to the cause as any of them. "You know, if you have time to watch Cullen watching me, as you say he does—"

Dorian snorted at the qualification.

"Then maybe we need to find someone for you," Antonia continued, ignoring him. "Now, let's see." She drew her knees up to her chest and looked at him thoughtfully.

Rolling his eyes, Dorian said, "This should be good."

Briefly she considered Varric, but they were really too similar, and she wasn't sure if men were Varric's thing. Or if Varric even had a thing. If not Varric, then— "A-ha! I have it. He's perfect for you."

Dorian looked at her skeptically.

"Krem! He's Tevinter, like you, so you'd have things to talk about, and he has a lot of fascinating stories about the Chargers. Also, he's very cute. If I was a man, I'd be highly tempted."

"Please. Don't be ridiculous," Dorian said. "If you were a man, you'd still be drooling over that attractive Commander of yours, only with less favorable prospects." He gave an exaggeratedly wistful sigh. "And I think it's quite possible you would have better luck with Krem than I would. For that matter, aren't Krem and the Iron Bull a thing?"

"I think only sometimes; it's not clear. But the more the merrier, right?" She winked at him. "Didn't the Iron Bull offer to buy you dinner if you'd let him chain you up like a Qunari mage?"

Dorian choked. "That's not quite how it went."

"Which conversation are you remembering?"

"He wasn't serious! And neither was I!" Dorian protested. Antonia raised her eyebrows at him, and he groaned. "You're terrible. I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but I believe you may have spent too much time with me."

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