young!dorian and trevelyan au
Apr. 16th, 2015 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaebilityjust a drabble i'm working on.
"It's a wild goose chase - that's what you southerners say, yet?" Dorian strolled through the library - small - with his fingers trailing lightly on the books as he read their spines. "I can hardly expect that you'd have even a censored copy of what I need."
"So why did you come?"
Dorian glanced over his shoulder at the other boy, who was following a polite distance behind him. "Well, to be honest, I think half the reason was just so Father could get me out of his hair for a season. Might be more than half the reason."
"Did you get in trouble?"
He barked a laugh and the other boy's eyebrows raised in surprised. "You could say that. In any event, down here I'll be safe from temptation. Oh, is that Rine Valente? ...No, of course not."
"Temptation?"
The other boy had ventured a little closer. Dorian hadn't gotten much of a look at him before, but now he studied him with mild curiosity. Mylas, that had been his name. He was probably around fourteen, though Dorian couldn't pinpoint his exact age: with his height he looked older, but those earnest expressions seemed so young, like Mylas was a child at the window of a candy shop. His red hair and pale complexion somehow seemed childish too - Freckles, for Andraste's sake, and not a trace of cosmetics. Mylas was probably dying to hear about blood magic ceremonies or maybe even orgies, or whatever other scary stories the Chantry sisters told the apprentices at night. Dorian wondered what the apprentice would say if he told him about his father finding the letter he'd been writing to Cero. "Anyway, don't worry. I won't corrupt you. I hereby promise not to cavort, challenge, or summon any demons while I'm hear. Maker knows with all your templars, I wouldn't get very far in that regard anyway. Maybe that's why they even let me through the door? Or does Ostwick usually play host to big bad mages from Tevinter?"
It was Mylas' turn to laugh, and it was more like a quiet snort. "I'm too boring to corrupt."
"Hm?" A second edition of Scrying Secrets by Colerus, not a bad find.
"That's what everyone says, and I suppose that's what First Enchanter Lydia thinks, too. I don't do... anything at all, really."
Dorian turned again. Mylas' long arms were dangling helpless at his sides. He was staring out the window, worrying at his lower lip.
"So you hunger for forbidden fruits, do you?" It sounded iodiotic even as he said it, and maybe even a little desperate, but Dorian couldn't stop the words from slipping out. He covered p his discomfort with another laugh. "Well, we'll see what happens over the next few days."
Mylas' face brightened and he smiled, wide and easy. "You'll let me be your guide, then?"
He had been rude about that, hadn't he? Dorian regretted the outburst - he shouldn't have hurt the boy's feelings, even if Dorian's ire had been directed at another target. "Well I promised the First Enchanter. And a Pavus is true to his word."
"It's a wild goose chase - that's what you southerners say, yet?" Dorian strolled through the library - small - with his fingers trailing lightly on the books as he read their spines. "I can hardly expect that you'd have even a censored copy of what I need."
"So why did you come?"
Dorian glanced over his shoulder at the other boy, who was following a polite distance behind him. "Well, to be honest, I think half the reason was just so Father could get me out of his hair for a season. Might be more than half the reason."
"Did you get in trouble?"
He barked a laugh and the other boy's eyebrows raised in surprised. "You could say that. In any event, down here I'll be safe from temptation. Oh, is that Rine Valente? ...No, of course not."
"Temptation?"
The other boy had ventured a little closer. Dorian hadn't gotten much of a look at him before, but now he studied him with mild curiosity. Mylas, that had been his name. He was probably around fourteen, though Dorian couldn't pinpoint his exact age: with his height he looked older, but those earnest expressions seemed so young, like Mylas was a child at the window of a candy shop. His red hair and pale complexion somehow seemed childish too - Freckles, for Andraste's sake, and not a trace of cosmetics. Mylas was probably dying to hear about blood magic ceremonies or maybe even orgies, or whatever other scary stories the Chantry sisters told the apprentices at night. Dorian wondered what the apprentice would say if he told him about his father finding the letter he'd been writing to Cero. "Anyway, don't worry. I won't corrupt you. I hereby promise not to cavort, challenge, or summon any demons while I'm hear. Maker knows with all your templars, I wouldn't get very far in that regard anyway. Maybe that's why they even let me through the door? Or does Ostwick usually play host to big bad mages from Tevinter?"
It was Mylas' turn to laugh, and it was more like a quiet snort. "I'm too boring to corrupt."
"Hm?" A second edition of Scrying Secrets by Colerus, not a bad find.
"That's what everyone says, and I suppose that's what First Enchanter Lydia thinks, too. I don't do... anything at all, really."
Dorian turned again. Mylas' long arms were dangling helpless at his sides. He was staring out the window, worrying at his lower lip.
"So you hunger for forbidden fruits, do you?" It sounded iodiotic even as he said it, and maybe even a little desperate, but Dorian couldn't stop the words from slipping out. He covered p his discomfort with another laugh. "Well, we'll see what happens over the next few days."
Mylas' face brightened and he smiled, wide and easy. "You'll let me be your guide, then?"
He had been rude about that, hadn't he? Dorian regretted the outburst - he shouldn't have hurt the boy's feelings, even if Dorian's ire had been directed at another target. "Well I promised the First Enchanter. And a Pavus is true to his word."
