[ it settles, deep within the pit of his gut, tendrils curling upwards, along the aching bones of his ribcage, tickling the very bottom of his heart. it’s an odd sensation, only one other comparable to it in word, and he cannot, even with all his focus, ignore it. it is nostalgia. ]
( lady cenah ) ;
runs off to get some froyo b/c Solas gave me some gold xoxox be back sooooon
’Sharing is caring; or so they say, Cenah.’
( lord henrik ) ;
“If I don’t…. well you’ve never seen me in a ponytail yet, but that would be a side affect”
’Morning grooming is never to be taken lightly.’
’–––how very auspicious.’
[ he is not one, usually, to abide by morning rituals, but he does not fault those who do. ]
( arno ) ;
Even through thick gloves, he can feel fingers that sit in the slots between his own comfortably, managing a slight grin to have Dorian returned to him once more.
“ I’m relieved that you’re alright. I’ve been up for days waiting for you to return, even if I wasn’t sure you would come back.”
’I should hope that you’d have no reason to doubt, to think that I might actually disappear without notice or without virulent attempt to contact you in some way.’
[ he leans down some to tip his head, his eyes searching for the other’s to hold them in his gaze. he means his words, wholly, and does not wish for Arno to take them lightly. ]
’I will always return.’
( isiliden ) ;
—Well, he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t amused or trying to stifle the natural flow of laughter. Isiliden witnessed the whole thing, the face scrunching, the grimace, and eventual expulsion of wind.
“Bless you. Allergies, Dorian?”
[ the feeling is still there, though his face slowly works its way back to his typical resting expression. his eyes are still somewhat lidded as they look the other over, the back of a finger reaching up to brush the tip of his own nose absently––that feeling still remains. ]
’A tickle, perhaps caused by wayward dust.’
[ he does not want to believe that this might be a regular thing. ]
[ he can feel it rumbling in the bridge of his nose, the type of feeling that makes one’s face grimace and contort into twisted discomfort–––they’re insatiable and he altogether loathes them. ]
[ the sneezes, that is. a most ungraceful, involuntary act. ]
“… You know that’s unfair… You cannot compare my comings and goings to yours, Dorian, I…I cannot be in a place like this too long, I’ve told you why, I’ve told you everything—.”
He stops himself— this isn’t the time to argue, to throw a fit as a c h i l d would. Fingers curl, uncurl, he exhales.
“… I apologize. I know that wasn’t your intent.”
’There is positively no cause to doubt that I understand the reasoning behind your vanishing. I was merely stating that there are moments in which I am left to wonder both where you are and how long you might be gone. That is the only reference I wished to infer.’
[ his own fingers reach out for those fingers that find themselves balled tightly in frustration, peeling them from their own palms to lace them between his own who intend to comfort. ]
’Your reasons are your own and I do respect them. I shall do my best, with all variations of valiant effort, not to leave unnoticed again.’
“ Yes, of course you did. I’ve been all over Ferelden and Orlais looking for you, Dorian.
Needless to say, I believe my anger is rightful.”
’And I have done the same for you in the past.’
[ he’s not angry, by any means, but his lips are pursed in thought, eyes fixated on the hooded figure. ]
’It is certainly never my intention to disappear from you.’
❧;; “All that I ask is that you at least speak of your departure before your next lengthy disappearance.”
[ and he is certainly aware of the importance of informing the Inquisitor, of all people, when he is to take leave, even for a slightly prolonged moment, yet somehow, most recently, the importance of the task at hand took precedence over protocol. ]
’It is only standard, yes, but the issue was time sensitive and I’m afraid I was not given a moment to announce my departure. If there ever is a next time, Lady Ellana, I shall exploit all efforts to inform you.’
“…A pardon?
I believe that warrants an explanation.”
’A pardon, forgiveness, Arno, for having taken flight so quickly without notice. I had intended to leave a note but I was barely given time to take a breath, to get my wits about me before my expertise with the manipulation of the dead was requested.’
[ and he swallows–––thickly. ]