Things Dorian Pavus probably does when the Inquisitor goes off adventuring without him:
He reads. A lot. And makes a note of things to bring up in conversation later that donāt revolve around the current world disasters. Maybe something about nugs.
Also, he makes a note of all the ways heās going to /gently/ rebuke the Inquisitor for not taking him along. (The rain and the cold isnāt so bad with the Inquisitorās company. But itās still pretty bad.)
He looks up each time someone comes up the stairs to the library - even if he knows the Inquisitor is far away. Old habits, he says to himself, though itās a rather new habit heās picked up.
(The occasional fluttering sensations are new too.)
Dorian reads the books that Cassandra lends to him, and then puts them down after a chapter or two because he simply canāt go on reading such smut. He paces around a bit and leans over the banister before he makes a disgusted noise and picks the book right back up.
He sits in his chair with the sun on the side of his face and watches the people rush by - the scouts and researchers. They nod at him when they pass sometimes. Heās not sure what or who they see, but heās glad theyāre looking.
One of the mages asks him if he can help with a Teven cipher. Dorian laughs. Alexius used to have me doing these before breakfast. Works up an appetite - or so he said. There are better ways. The cipherās decoded before the hourās up.
Occasionally heāll hear a scout telling Leliana about Venatori in the area the Inquisitorās headed for and something tightens in his chest like a gripping fist. (Then it eases; the Inquisitor has that talent for killing things, after all. And a talent for surviving - and Dorian values that one much more highly.)
The ravens stare at him from the cages. Dorian learns that they seem unaffected by his natural charm when he tells them to stop and so, therefore, concludes that they are not creations of the Maker but of the void itself.
He throws little paper balls down onto Solasā desk until Solas fetches Josephine to politely ask him to stop. He carries on. Cullen doesnāt ask as nicely.
And when the Inquisitor comes back and creeps up the steps with a weary smile, Dorian bounds out of the chair to meet him. He stops himself an inch short of grasping him by the arms and smiles despite all the fresh cuts and scrapes he sees. Theyāll fade. Heās in one piece. They donāt kiss - but they smile at one another.
(I donāt want these onlookers to think Iām stealing your soul he says. (But they know heās already stolen something else of the Inquisitorās.))
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