pre- Inquisition:  (◡‿◡✿)

Inquisition:   (◕д◕✿)

Trespasser: (◕ㅁ◕✿)

Time for my next ship to get some attention, because I can't wait any longer for this game holy shit...

    Faolan Levallan stood high up in a tree in the courtyard. The Dalish elf made sure he was unseen. He just wanted to think alone in peace for five minutes. Every five minutes someone hunted him down with a request, or a report, or some pressing matter that needed the attention of the Herald of Andraste. By the Dread Wolf, it was exhausting. He had managed to find a spot where no-one had spotted him for an hour now. It was a welcome break from all the nonsense. It was nice to just be able to breathe in what little nature he could now that he was away from his clan of Dalish. Now that he was amongst so many shems. He didn't mean his spiteful thoughts. He was just tired of being badgered by such strange looking creatures. Their ears were rounded. And they were freakishly tall and bulky. He hadn't even realised he'd been staring at that Tevinter shem for a while when he shuddered at the thought of how strange round ears were. He cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed, but it wasn't long until his eyes wandered back to Dorian Pavus. The mage was sitting a little ways off with that Cullen shem, playing some bizarre board-game that required them to sit for an unprecedented amount of time doing nothing. It looked like the most boring thing in the world! But it gave Faolan a chance to appraise every little feature of the mage his eyes could land on, greedily.

    His skin was dark and smooth, taught over well-toned muscles, hardly any blemish marring it's silky perfection. That well-groomed moustache drove him a little bit mad. He didn't know whether he admired it or despised it. Maybe it was an odd mixture of both. The mage had a similar hairstyle to himself, but somehow, Dorian's hair looked more perfect. More dashing and handsome. Somehow Faolan never seemed to be able to achieve that level of perfection with his white-blonde locks. It must have been some sort of magic he used on his stupidly perfect hair. Although the elf's eyesight was far better than any shem's, he still wasn't able to see the mage's slate-grey eyes, that seemed all the brighter for being framed by thick dark lashes, and his chocolaty skin. And then there was that god-awful smirk that permanently lived on his perfect lips. The elf's eyes travelled down to the mage's broad shoulders. While quite slight in comparison to the hulk of a Commander across from him, he still had and exceptionally masculine form. At least, he thought so. As if the shem sensed his eyes upon him, Dorian turned to look out into the courtyard. Faolan's breath caught. He couldn't possibly see him. No. He hadn't seen him. But he looked quite serious when he was staring off into the distance mindlessly. The planes of his smooth face set in quite a serious way, only made his features seem more angular, something he hadn't seen in many shems. He turned his face back to the game, and he was all smiles again as he moved one of the small pieces on their board game. He gave the mage's round ears a quick look, deciding that they didn't look so bad on all shemlen.

    He slid down out of the tree stealthily, having grown stiff and tired of standing. He walked over to the men, wondering how their stupid boring game was going. As he approached their little table, Cullen stood respectfully to greet him. It seemed that it would take some time for the Commander to get used to the notion that Faolan wasn't his military commander. He gave the Commander a quick, tight smile. Faolan had never been one for smiles. He was a very serious elf. With the world the way it was right now, it was important to take things seriously.

"Levallan! Come to see the Commander get defeated?" Dorian said cheerfully. He'd forgotten about that rich timbre to his voice. He was dazed for but a moment when he answered the mage with a very serious expression, making sure to maintain eye contact with the man.

"I came to see how your game was progressing yes. But I was also curious to know what you were playing. This sort of... Sedentary game is not something we have in the Dalish tribes."

"Well, my dear Inquisitor, I am just about to defeat the Commander here in the glorious game that is Chess." Faolan's stomach pitched a little when Dorian called him his dear Inquisitor.

"Don't be so cocky, mage. I have the beatings of you yet!" Faolan was absolutely nonplussed when the Commander went back to staring at the board intently.

    "I don't understand this game. It's bizarre. I can't imagine I'd like it at all." Dorian gave him a small smile.

"I think you'll find that you might. It's all about tactics. I could teach you after I annihilate the Commander, if you like." Faolan didn't understand why Dorian was so flirty with everyone else, but so very serious with him. From what he had observed of the mage, it wasn't in his character. Maybe he didn't like him. Maybe in his offer he was just trying to be friendly. Maybe he should try acting more friendly and more like the shems if he wanted to be friends with them. He smiled very slowly and dipped his head solemnly.

"I would like that very much, Serah Pavus." No. He really wouldn't. He had no interest in the game. But he did have an interest in the mage, that was borderline foolish. Dorian flirted quite heavily with all the women around him. He clearly was not attracted to men. At least that was his thought on the matter. There really was no point in feeding this infatuation further. It wasn't like he admired the man all that much. He just... Looked nice. Dorian's eyes softened for a minute and he was about to say something, when Cullen chortled.