Work Text:
Dorian had always been one to break the rules, much to his family’s consternation. Whether it was sleeping with the elevated men of the magisterium and subtly blackmailing them into doing what he wanted them to do or denying his father’s wishes for him to marry, he was ready to deliver a heavy dose of rebellion. Oh, but the blackmailing was the best part.
His father always assumed that Dorian simply slept with any man who was willing to bend Dorian over a table, but it was not so. Dorian strategized and targeted his next rendezvous with a goal in mind and that goal had always been to gather as much dirt on his target as he could so that he was in control for a while.
At first, he had all the blackmail stored away, lengthy pages of incriminating evidence tucked into the hidden drawer of his desk. He figured he’d use them eventually but better to save them until he really needed them. He would just keep moving targets, keep getting information. It wasn’t like he was in short supply of bed partners. He was beautiful, generations of good breeding had ensured his good looks, and he knew how to please a man. It was a turn on to watch men gasp and moan as he rode them or used his mouth. It made Dorian feel powerful.
It was on one such occasion that he met Adavra.
He’d been working to gain a foot in the door with Magister Lartys, who was proving to be both a difficult target and entirely too easy. It was a strange middle ground really, not that Dorian was complaining. A well placed compliment here, a bit of ego stroking there, and a few innuendos to catch a carnal attention and Dorian was in. He almost felt bad for the spouses of these Magisters. Almost.
It was after sex, when he was putting on his robes, beautiful blues and the ever present snake stitched into the fabric, that he saw her. She was obviously a servant, her pointed ears being the giveaway. Not knowing where the he was going he decided it’d be best to ask her.
“Excuse me,” Dorian said, voice full of charm.
But the elf gave a quiet cry of… fear? Dorian stared in bewilderment as she immediately dropped to the floor, bowing her head in submission. The roll she had been carrying bounced quietly and then settled onto the stone feet away from her.
“I’m s-sorry, Ser,” she said, her voice quivering. “I-it’s j-just that, we’re starving, Ser, please d-don’t tell my master.”
Dorian felt a nausea build in his stomach. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. Wasn’t she a servant? Would a servant be treated like this? Dorian slowly lowered himself down to the elf’s height, his knees making a small thud as they hit the floor. The elf began to ramble faster her speech now a garbled mix of elvish and tevene and possibly some common. He shushed her quietly. “It’s quite alright, please calm down, take a deep breath I’m not telling anyone anything.”
The elf’s head shot up to look at him and Dorian’s heart clenched at the dirty face he was staring at. Choppy, black hair hung limply around her gaunt face and her large eyes were framed by deep smudges of purple bruises, from lack of sleep or otherwise Dorian wasn’t sure. Her eyes filled with fresh tears and she bowed her head again. “Thank you, Ser, oh thank you.”
Dorian shook his head. “None of that, there is no need to thank me really.” And there wasn’t, not to this extent. “What’s your name?”
She bit her lip. “It’s Adavra, Ser.”
Dorian hummed and gave her a tentative smile. “Adavra,” he let it roll off his tongue and gave a nod. “It’s a very pretty name.”
Adavra’s face flushed and she wiped at her tears. “Thank you, Ser.”
Dorian scoffed. “Oh that won’t do, much too formal for my taste.” He reached his hand out to her, making sure not to move to quickly to avoid startling her. “Dorian of House Pavus.”
Her face scrunched up in confusion. “You want me to call you by your first name?”
Dorian gave her a bewildered look. “Of course I do, why you aren’t much older than I am. How old are you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I think around twenty-four.”
“You aren’t sure?”
“I don’t know how much time has passed.”
“You don’t… how long have you been serving here?”
The elf scoffed quietly. “Serving, yeah, right.”
Dorian’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you not?”
She gave him a flat look. “I wouldn’t call this servitude, just slavery.”
That wasn’t right at all. “But- you aren’t paid?”
She actually laughed at that. “I’ve never met one slave who was paid. Our masters give us enough to keep us from keeling over, but that’s all we get.”
Dorian was silent for a while, coming to terms with what he just found out. He knew that there were some who treated their serv—but they weren’t servants, he couldn’t just ignore what she’d told him. They were slaves, all of them this whole time and Dorian had willing let the wool stay over his eyes on the subject. He didn’t question it when his parents had talked about their own servants and how they treated them well. How ignorant of him. “I… I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “It’s what all you upper class people do, turn a blind-eye from everything that will disturb the perfect world you all live in.” She didn’t look angry, just resigned, like she had already accepted that this is how her life was going to be for the rest of her life. Well not if Dorian had anything to say about it. He wasn’t about to let a whole group of people be locked away for who they were, not when Dorian himself was also being targeted because of who he was. But Dorian could use who he was to his advantage, could hide it if he wished, but the elves couldn’t. So Dorian would just have to help.
“What if… What if I had a way to get you released?”
She looked startled again. “Released? L-like free? Revas?”
“Yes, away from your master, free to leave Tevinter if you so please.”
Adavra’s mouth opened and closed a few times. “J-just me?”
“How many of you are here?”
“Magister Lartys has ten slaves now, eleven last week but Haemir, my brother…” Her voice quivered and she hastily wiped at the tears that had started making their way down her cheeks. “My master wasn’t pleased with him.”
Dorian quietly cursed and brought his hand down to cover her own. “I’m sorry to hear that.” What else was he supposed to say? “But I can get you all out, I just need a few days.”
She gave him a searching look. “How? No slave I’ve known has been able to escape their master.”
Dorian’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Oh you aren’t escaping, he’s going to let you all go.”
Adavra’s face became blank. “No he won’t, Dorian, he’d never do that.”
“He will if he wants the forged gold he used to buy his estate with to remain a secret. Or perhaps his sordid affair with his sister, disturbing really. Or I could go deeper, pull up the covert assassination of his mother to send his father into such despair that he practically gave Magister Lartys his seat in the Magisterium.” He gave her a dark look. “I have enough dirt on him that he’ll cave within a day.”
She sat there in shook, her mouth gaped. “H-how did—“
“How did I uncover all of his secrets? Temptation is a wonderful and terrible thing, Adavra.” One he knew all too well. “And once I get the attention of my target I make sure I get everything I can. Simply duplicating documents or snooping around are great fun especially after I’ve exhausted them enough that I can persuade them to stay asleep. Is it morally the best thing to be doing? No. Do I regret doing it? Not one bit.” And he didn’t, he knew that collecting the blackmail would come in handy, just perhaps not in this way.
She was silent for a moment and he let the silence stretch between them. “Why would you do that? Why would you do that for us? For me? What’ve we ever done for you?”
Dorian shook his head. “It isn’t about what you’ve done, you don’t need to do anything. It’s about knowing what the right thing to do is, and that’s making sure you all are released from this.”
He half thought she was going to throw herself at him, but she settled for turning her hand over so their palms met. “Ma serannas, Dorian.”
Dorian let the smile tug up the corners of his mouth. “Just give me a few days, I can get him to release you all and I can arrange for you to be escorted out of Tevinter or into actual paying jobs if any of you wished to stay.”
Adavra shook her head. “I doubt any of us will want to stay, but you have my thanks once again.”
And that was how Dorian’s secret emancipation started. It was actually exhilarating to be able to help someone, to use his hard work to better the lives of those around him. It was dangerous, especially if the four assassination attempts were anything to go by, but Dorian wasn’t going to stop doing what he could. As lofty as a goal it might be, he would love to free everyone.
Of course then his father tried to use blood magic on him to change him and he was forced to flee. He regretted not being able to continue with freeing the slaves of Tevinter, but his threats of releasing blackmail didn’t hold the same weight once he was no longer residing in Tevinter. And then there was that whole mess with Alexius and then he joined the Inquisition.
Karis Lavellan was a sweet woman, someone who led the Inquisition with a heart of gold and a kind smile. That wasn’t to say she was opposed to being stern when she needed to be. But Karis being the person she was led to her inviting people who were seeking refuge, for whatever reason, to Skyhold. It caused Josephine an almost endless amount of fretting, but the people who arrived were always grateful with whatever the Inquisition provided for them. Except those Orlesian nobles that came to Skyhold to simply look at the castle, they were always hard to please.
On one such occasion, Karis invited a whole slew of elves which garnered a whole range of reactions from nonchalance to obvious disdain. People wouldn’t leave him alone about it, going on about how Dorian must’ve been excited to have slaves again or some other Andraste-forsaken dig at Dorian. It was getting increasingly annoying to try and ignore the comments which is why he’d taken to watching the Chargers run through their training, even joining on occasion.
“Kadan, do you plan on watching all day or do you plan to get off that pretty little ass of yours and train with us?” Bull asked, as he hefted his ridiculous dawnstone axe onto his shoulders. Dorian wasn’t really sure why the Iron Bull was so taken by the color pink, but it was endearing.
“My pretty little ass is quite comfortable where it is, thank you,” Dorian said, going back to the book in his lap. It was fascinating reading up on all the Fade related spells, he could understand why Solas was so obsessed with it.
Bull barked a laugh and turned back to Krem. “Suit yourself, Dorian, you’ll have to join in eventually.”
“Unless you plan on dragging me into the ring, I plan on staying here.”
Krem snorted as he parried another blow from Bull. “Chief, let the Altus do what he wants,” Krem said. “People have been giving him crap all week about the Inquisitor’s new guests.”
Bull grunted. “The elves, yeah I know, thought it might help him release some of that anger.”
“He thanks you for your concern,” Dorian said, turning the page of his book.
“See, he’ll be fine, Chief,” Krem said lowering his shield. “Besides, those elves are arriving today, right?”
“Yeah, the Inquisitor and her advisers were meeting them at the end of the bridge last I’d heard. We’ll probably see them at dinner tonight,” Bull said.
“Not eating at the tavern tonight?” Krem asked.
“You know how Karis is, Cremisius,” Dorian said, closing his book. He obviously wasn’t going to get any reading done. “She likes to enforce that the Inner Circle dines with the new guests of Skyhold. Supposedly it’s to show our openness or some other fluffy nonsense. It shouldn’t be too bad this time.”
“As long as no one makes any comments about you, it should be,” Bull said, his voice tight.
The protectiveness in Bull’s voice sent a shudder up his spine. “Why Amatus, so protective,” Dorian said, standing up from his perch and walking toward where Bull was standing.
Krem groaned and turned away from the two. “Alright, go do that mushy stuff in your room or something,” Krem said.
Dinner turned out to be much more eventful than Dorian had previously thought. Not even he could have predicted this turn of events.
Dorian and the majority of the inner circle had already sat down before the Inquisitor arrived with their guests. It was mostly small talk, a few thinly veiled barbs sent Dorian’s way but he deflected them with ease. Really, they were going to have to be more creative if they wanted the insults to actually hurt him. It was while listening to one such barb from Solas that the Inquisitor arrived.
There was a great deal of elves behind her, Dorian was guessing more than twenty. An assorted arrangement of all different types of elves, many of which seemed familiar to Dorian, but it couldn’t be, that was terribly unlikely. Unlikely as it may have been, it was true.
“Dorian!” A voice shouted from within the crowd of people. “Is that really you?”
Dorian stood up from the table and took a step closer to the approaching group. He didn’t notice the odd stares the inner circle members were sending him or the murmuring that had broken out within the crowd. No, his focus was on the woman who was running up to him, her long black hair flowing behind her. Before he could inspect her any longer arms had wrapped around his neck and a face had pressed itself against his shoulder.
“I thought I’d never see you again, ma’ falon,” the woman said pulling away from him after a moment to take his face in her hands.
“Adavra?” Dorian asked, not really believing what he was seeing.
She snorted. “Who else, you silly man.”
Dorian thought about rebutting her, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Amicus, you’re looking well.” And she did. Long gone was that choppy hair replaced by long tresses that were full of intricate braids. Her face had filled out some and the circles under her eyes weren’t as dark.
“Well I should since you got me out of Tevinter.”
Dorian made a noncommittal noise. “I may have done that, but life has a way of still being cruel, and I lost touch with you after I got you out and then, well…”
She leaned her forehead against his. “It’s okay, we’re better, safe thanks to you.” She pulled away and gave him a bright smile. “But I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
Dorian tilted his head and watched as she walked back over to the crowd of elves who were all smiling at him. He was feeling increasingly overwhelmed, especially now that he looked at them all. Here was some of the physical proof that he’d actually made a difference in Tevinter. That he’d made something better.
Before he could dwell on it more, two little elves were suddenly in front of him, Adavra standing proudly behind them. “Dorian, I’d like you to meet my children.”
Dorian stared for a moment before slowly crouching down to their level. “Hello there,” he said softly. “My name is Dorian, I met your mother a long time ago.” Almost six years ago.
The littlest one on the right giggled happily. “Mamae,” he said, running around Adavra’s legs.
Dorian chuckled and nodded his head. “Yes, she’s a fine woman.”
Adavra laughed and made a motion with her hand. “No Elana, make a friend,” she said before turning her attention to her son. “Go ahead, Balinor, he won’t bite.”
The oldest, Balinor walked right up to him before circling around him and climbing on his back. It took a moment for Dorian to readjust himself into a standing position so he wouldn’t fall over but he didn’t try to get the boy to leave. “Comfortable?” he asked, turning his head to the side.
The boy nodded his head. “Eth,” he mumbled before tucking his face in between Dorian’s shoulder blades.
While Dorian wasn’t sure what the boy had said, the little gasp of the Inquisitor gave him a rough idea. “Well yes you just stay there, do you wish to join him?” he asked, looking at the girl.
Elana ran back to him with a little shriek of laughter and wrapped her little arms around his arm where she proceeded to swing herself on. If she was heavier, Dorian likely would have minded, but she was light and having fun, who was he to stop her.
“What’s going on here?” Karis asked, her face beyond puzzled.
Dorian had forgot that they weren’t alone in the Great Hall. He turned to look at his fellow companions, all of which had a different expression. He looked at Bull who looked both incredibly sappy and like he wanted to laugh.
“My apologies, Inquisitor,” Dorian said. “I just haven’t seen them in a long time.”
“You’ve met them before?” Karis asked.
“As his slaves no doubt,” Solas muttered. Why the elf was so angry at him, Dorian would never know. It was just pushing all his distaste for Tevinter on one person.
Adavra sent Solas a glare. “Dorian is a vhenallin,” she said. “He got our masters to release us.”
Karis gave him a bewildered look. “How’d you manage that?”
“Espionage of course,” Dorian said.
“You were a spy, Dorian?” Leliana asked.
Bull laughed. “And after all that crap you gave me about being a spy,” he said.
“Oh I wasn’t a traditional spy, mind you,” Dorian said, hiking the sleepy child up higher on his back the best he could while Elana continue to twirl herself with one of his hands. “I seduced as many high ranking men as I could and once I’d exhausted them I’d gather as much information as I could and then store it for later use. It was only after I met Adavra that I thought of using the blackmail to get them to free their slaves.”
“He singlehandedly started an emancipation, in Tevinter no less,” one of the elves, Illaros he believed was his name.
“Oh don’t flatter me, and by that I mean do so as much as you like,” Dorian said, as he slowly made his way back to the table. “Though I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Being the temptress of Skyhold now?” Adavra asked with a sly grin.
Dorian gave Bull a soft look. “No, my heart belongs to my Amatus now.”
A few of the elves stood straighter at hearing the phrase and directed hard looks at Bull. It was admirable that Bull only fidgeted in his seat under their heavy gaze. “Kadan, people are going to think you’re getting soft,” Bull said.
Dorian scoffed as he finally sat down, Elana seated happily next to him and Balinor still clinging to his back. “You’re soft, you great lummox.” Bull just threw back his head and laughed.
“Bull, was it?” Adavra asked, sitting herself beside the Qunari.
“The Iron Bull, actually,” Bull corrected starting to pile food on his and Dorian’s plates.
“Alright, the Iron Bull, you’re in a relationship with Dorian, yes?”
Bull gave her a dopy smile. “Yeah, we have our something.”
Dorian smiled at hearing that. Both weren’t really sure how a relationship worked, but they were learning as they went.
“Well, I just want to let you know that if you ever hurt Dorian with this something of yours, not only will my revenge come swiftly, but I will see your blood on my blade and I will rally every one of us up to tear into you until not even the Dread Wolf would take you. Do I make myself clear?”
There was a sudden coughing fit down the table but Bull was staring with wide eyes at Adavra. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Bull said. “I don’t plan on letting him go unless he wants to leave, he’s my heart after all.”
Adavra’s stern face turned into a pleased smile. “That’s wonderful, pass the rolls?” Bull hurriedly grabbed the basket and let Adavra pick which one she wanted. “Thank you.”
Bull cursed softly under his breath before turning his attention back to Dorian who was cutting little pieces of his food up and feeding it to the elves that had attached themselves to him. “Kadan, you have some fierce friends.”
Dorian hummed softly. “Yes, I’m well aware. If it’s any consolation, you’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been, so you don’t have much to worry about, Amatus.”
“That’s good to hear.”
