This little drabble is adapted from the first scene I wrote for Molten As The Sun, because I really loved the idea od Dorian being absolutely blindsided by Lavellan running off into the Fade..

She’d pulled his head down, kissed the corner of his mouth, by his mustache, as the dust of battle began to subside and the Antaam lay dead at their feet. She wasn’t tall enough to reach higher. She’d said she had to go. He’d made some little quip.

And then she’d smiled at him and disappeared.

In response to Cyberpunk Minrathous from the Game Awards Trailer. :)

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian stared at Felix in disbelief. “You mean they don’t have running water everywhere south of the Minater?”

“In cities like Val Royeaux, yes,” Felix said with a slight, crooked grin, “in Ferelden? Hardly.” 

“That’s-” Dorian opened his mouth and closed it again. “Ghastly. How do they wash their clothing?”

“In streams? Well water?” Felix shrugged, scribbling equations on a blank sheet of parchment. He tapped a rune on a mug and it filled with steaming water, to which he added a small handful of herbs. “How am I to know, Dorian?”

“You- And the lights? How do people go out at night if there aren’t enchanted lights? Do they just go to-” Dorian shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Please don’t tell me the Southerners just go to sleep when the sun goes down.”

“Candles,” Felix corrected. “Candles and fireplaces.”

“Void and Deep,” Dorian murmured, blinking slowly. “They really have no idea, do they?”

“And it’s probably best they don’t, for now,” Felix gave him a self-deprecating smile. “If they have any idea how much we rely on magic-”

“Right, my good man. I suppose you’re-” Dorian sighed. “Are you absolutely certain your father’s cult can’t stay up north? At least we have plumbing.”