Chapter Text
Dorian fiddled restlessly with the hem of his sleeve as he made his way across the Summer Bazar. According to his watch, which was always correct to the second, it was fifteen minutes until eleven o’clock, his arranged meeting time with Varric Tethras. He had dressed down a bit from his interview the day before and had settled on a teal, long-sleeve button-up shirt and dark-wash slim-fit jeans and topped it off with his watch on one wrist, a gold bracelet on the other, and one gold ring. Nice but not too nice, casual yet not sloppy. He had put almost as much time into planning the outfit as he had the one the day before. Perhaps it was because he didn’t quite know what to expect from Varric and he didn’t know what would be expected of himself in turn.
As Dorian rounded the fountain in the center of the main plaza he caught sight of Varric leaning against a wall near the entrance of the restaurant, a satchel on his shoulder and his phone in his hands. He seemed to be texting someone but as soon as he spotted Dorian he typed out a quick response and slipped his phone into his bag. “Dorian, thanks for making the time for this.”
“It is no trouble at all; in fact, it’s a pleasure.” And what a change to the usual reception he received; as if his time were a valuable thing.
“Glad to hear it,” Varric grinned then motioned for Dorian to follow him into Le Masque du Lion. “C’mon, we’re both a little early but we’ll see if they can seat us.”
Dorian obligingly followed after the dwarf who didn’t hesitate a second as he pushed the doors to the restaurant open and strolled in like it was his neighborhood diner and not a critically-acclaimed eatery. The host eyed them as they made their way inside but Dorian followed Varric’s example and held himself as if he knew precisely what he was doing. Varric bustled up to the host stand, the poor man just barely able to see over the top of the podium. “We’re here for lunch.” A simple but bold statement as there were nearly fifteen people clustered in the restaurant’s foyer waiting for a table.
The host looked down his narrow nose at Varric. “I’m afraid we are booked up for the day. Do you have a reservation?” The tone of his voice implied he very much doubted it.
“Yup,” Varric answered back easily. “It should be under Tethras for two.”
He flipped open his book and Dorian watched as his eyes skimmed down the page then widen as they apparently found the name. A blush spread across his pale face and Dorian smiled as the flustered Orlesian man pulled out two menus. “I see you have a reservation for eleven but we can seat you immediately. Right this way, sers.”
They were led to a lovely little table in the main dining room near a window that was open to the patio, allowing the pleasantly warm air outside to breeze in. The host waited until they were both seated and Varric had set his bag down beside him before presenting them each with a menu and bustling off. Once the host was out of earshot, Dorian leaned forward with a grin. “How did you get a table here within a day?” The one time Dorian had inquired, thinking it would be a nice place to meet Vivienne, he was told that all available reservations had been booked out four months in advance. And, since Dorian had suggested the time of their meeting, Varric had been given less than twenty-four hours to arrange it.
Varric waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve got a friend who did the owner a favor once so I made a quick call and they managed to squeeze us in.”
“You seem to be friends with interesting people.”
Varric laughed. “That’s a nice way to put it. And order whatever you want,” he tapped the menu. “I’ll be expensing this whole trip so it’s Inquisition’s silvers.”
Dorian grinned again but kept himself in check when he actually ordered, choosing a moderately priced grilled fish. This was a familiar sort of game for him and came naturally after a childhood of having these sorts of lessons drilled into his head; he ought not insult Varric by ordering the cheapest thing on the menu but he shouldn’t take advantage either by ordering the most expensive.
Once they had put in their orders and received their drinks, Varric lifted his brows and leaned over in his chair to dig into his satchel. “Might as well get down to business, I guess, since I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that this isn’t entirely a social visit.”
“I had my suspicions.”
Varric smiled at the response and dug around in his bag for a moment longer before pulling out a large object then dropped a bound manuscript on the table in between them, facing Dorian. "So, Sparkler, I have a proposition for you."
Dorian blinked at the manuscript in surprise before gingerly picking it up and squinting at the words printed in the center of the cover page. Draft: In Hushed Whispers. "What is this?"
"It's my newest script and I'm hoping you'd be interested in joining up. Now, it'll be produced by Inquisition Studios but a little bird told me your contract with Sun Gate is up for renewal in about a month and I figured you might be looking for a change in pace."
So many things were just said that Dorian momentarily had trouble focusing on which should be addressed first. "Inquisition Studios would be interested in signing me on?"
"I'd say they were excited about it."
Dorian’s mouth opened then closed again after a moment of being unable to speak. His heartrate picked up. Inquisition Studios wanted him. They wanted him. Finally, he swallowed and his words returned to him. "What is the script about?"
Varric leaned back in his chair. "I thought I'd stretch myself a bit into a new genre and was inspired to finish it up by your magazine spread in Célèbre. It's a supernatural thriller with a little romance and drama on the side."
Dorian flipped the script open but without his reading glasses the small print was a strain on his eyes. "Let me guess: a period piece?" It would make sense given that Varric had seen him in costume as Cassius on set.
"No, actually. Set in modern times. Mostly in an old estate down in the Emerald Graves. I already have the location scouted out."
"Ah. No doubt you need an evil Tevinter magister then to raise an army of undead or demons for your hero to vanquish." It was an easy enough typecast. And he was open enough with his abilities that Varric could have easily found out his specialization as a necromancer.
"Nope. This is a classic ghost story, no Tevinter magister needed."
Dorian’s eyes bounced up to Varric’s and he offered him a confused smile. "Then what role could you possibly need me to fill?"
"Well,” Varric seemed to have been waiting for that question and straightened back up, “I was hoping you'd want to be the lead supporting actor. Love interest of the hero and only somewhat reluctant hero himself."
"Beg pardon?" Surely, surely he had misheard—
"He's a mage and scholar of arcane magic who fled Tevinter after being pushed out of his university and threatened for his progressivist leanings. The hero, who I've already roped Evelyn Trevelyan into playing, searches him out to help her deal with a ghost problem at an abandoned estate where her father disappeared, since not many mages here in southern Thedas know a thing about necromancy and old magic. There's intrigue and danger and the two end up falling in love despite societal pressures working against them as they make their way through mortal dangers. It has a happy ending, of course; the characters will deserve one after the whole thing is over."
Venhedis. It sounded like the role had been written for him. Well, there were certain discrepancies but the whole thing sounded…too good to be true.
Varric had written him a hero’s role.
Feeling himself getting far too emotional for what was appropriate for a public setting, Dorian carefully set the script back down in the center of the table. "Varric, I..."
Varric, looking very pleased with himself, held up a hand. "You don't need to give me your answer now, Sparkler. Keep the script, read through it, talk with your agent or whoever else, and I'll call you in a week to get your answer."
He must have known that Dorian didn’t have an agent—otherwise he would have contacted them first—but he appreciated that Varric had allowed him the dignity of the lie.
Their food arrived fairly quickly given how busy the restaurant was and they proceeded to have a very nice lunch. The script wasn’t brought up again but it was impossible to forget and kept its place of honor on the table between them throughout the meal. Varric was an unsurprisingly entertaining raconteur and seemed to have a never-ending number of stories to draw from. Dorian shared some about his time with the Theatrum but for one of the few times in his life he found himself preferring to allow someone else take control over the conversation.
They ended lunch with Dorian writing down his number for Varric and then taking custody of the script before they parted ways. The whole walk home he was hyper-aware of the manuscript tucked under his arm and found himself giving all passers-by a wide berth. As soon as he reached his apartment he cleared a space at his desk and set it down then sat down at his computer. He spent the afternoon researching Varric Tethras and the Inquisition Studios company and what they’d both produced in the past. He already knew to a certain degree but with everything he uncovered he became a bit more excited. Varric and Inquisition Studios, they had both independently done good work and were only showing signs of improvement in their more recent scripts and movies. Inquisition was nowhere near as established as Sun Gate Pictures was but Dorian found himself wondering if that wasn’t in fact an advantage for people like him. Inquisition was obviously willing to take risks, like hiring an as-of-yet-unknown-in-the-South Tevinter actor for what appeared to be a major motion picture.
When Dorian next tore his eyes from his screen he realized that it was growing dark. He also realized that he desperately wanted to tell someone about his day.
Dorian grabbed his phone up and dialed Bull’s number without another thought. Bull was quick to pick up, his voice a bit muffled, “How’s everything going, big guy?” Despite the hour, he was likely still at work judging by the noise Dorian could hear in the background: the bustle of a busy production lot.
“Is this a good time?”
“Sure, good as any. Hold on.”
Dorian waited and listened to the sound of chattering, unintelligible voices in the background as Bull walked through a crowd. The voices slowly grew quieter until they faded away entirely and then after a soft shuffling sound Bull was back on the line. “Sorry about that. I could barely hear you over all the noise.”
Dorian smiled. He had no doubt that Bull could hear him perfectly but he was always doing things for Dorian’s comfort and knew that Dorian preferred that their conversations were held in private. But he didn’t call Bull on it; he never did and in turn Bull never made it an issue. “It’s no trouble.” He stretched out in his chair. Simply hearing Bull’s voice was soothing, though it wasn’t nearly enough today to quell his excitement. Though the sound of his voice also brought about a new, unexpected edge of anxiety. Oh. He hadn’t thought about—Dorian swallowed. He hadn’t thought about what this might mean for them. “Do you have the time to pay me a visit tonight? There is something I’d like to discuss in person.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Not necessarily,” Dorian purposefully kept his tone light, “but it could be if I wanted it to be. Of course, the visit need not be all business.”
“Hard to turn down an invitation like that. I won’t be able to make it out to you until around ten tonight with the way things are going.”
A glance at the clock showed that it was almost seven now. “I don’t want to keep you out too late.”
“If it’s not too late for you, it’s fine with me. Though, with the timing, I might have to spend the night.”
Dorian’s smile returned. “Perish the thought.”
He could hear the answering smirk he knew Bull was wearing in his voice. “Do you need me to bring anything with me when I come?”
“Just yourself. Have you eaten tonight?”
Bull let out a thoughtful hum and Dorian imagined him scratching at his chin. “Stitches brought me a sandwich about two hours ago.”
Dorian raised a brow and glanced across his apartment at his kitchen. Bull would be hungry then, no matter how he might protest, and Dorian knew he’d travel directly over without stopping for food fist. Luckily, “I have some spicy noodles from a shop down the street leftover from dinner yesterday. It was nearly more spice than I could handle so I know you’ll like it. I can heat those up for you when you get here.”
“Damn, those sound delicious. You’re buttering me up for something.”
“Maybe. I’ll see you tonight.”
With three hours to waste, Dorian had to find a way to distract himself. In Hushed Whispers called to him from his desk but he resisted the temptation; he wanted to talk to Bull before he went any further with it. Instead, he gathered up some more academic journals he had previously printed out at the Val Royeaux Library and set himself up on the couch to browse through them. Dorian turned on some music, again, Tevinter opera, and sprawled out on the couch with his papers.
Both the music and the act of reading were well-practiced devices Dorian used to unwind and it did the trick. To an extent. He considered it a success that he didn’t leap right up off of the couch the moment he heard a knock and then at the sound of the front door swinging open a second later.
He did allow himself to sit up enough to peer over the top of the couch to make sure that it was indeed Bull walking into his apartment and, yes, yes it was.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked. You’re becoming a pretty popular guy, some crazy fan might take advantage.”
Dorian leaned his head back over the top of the couch and smiled upside-down at him as Bull walked inside and shut and locked the door behind him. “It’s a very good thing that I only leave it unlocked when I’m expecting enticingly intimidating company then, isn’t it?”
He rose to his feet as Bull walked over to the couch and wrapped his arms around Bull’s waist. He smelled a bit like dried sweat, like he often had right after he had come in from working all day on the Storm Coast. Smiling again, Dorian pressed up and kissed him. “Thank you for making the trip. I know it was an inconvenience, especially since you were just here two nights ago.”
“Anytime.”
Humming, knowing Bull probably meant that, Dorian pulled away then glanced down and realized that he had papers scattered about on the couch and the side table. “Excuse the mess…let me just…” Dorian’s voice trailed off as he spun around to gather up all of the paper and stack it up.
He heard Bull chuckle behind him. “You’re starting to settle in.”
“I’m not settling in, I’m spreading out,” Dorian easily corrected.
“How can you find anything?”
It wasn’t that bad. “I remember where I put things. It’s organized.” Bull hummed noncommittedly and Dorian huffed. “Organized chaos at the very least.”
“Alright, fair enough.”
After Dorian deemed the sitting area acceptably clean, Dorian turned back to Bull and the sight of him sparked a memory. Dorian snapped his fingers. “Ah! I almost forgot. You must be hungry.”
“Well I wasn’t gonna press but you did promise me noodles,” Bull teased.
Smirking, Dorian waved a hand and sauntered into the kitchen. “I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
“Can I help?”
“Sit,” He commanded in response and pointed at the couch. “You’ve had a long day. And it’s not as if I’m doing anything complicated.”
Bull laughed again but took a seat on Dorian’s couch as Dorian pulled a take-out container of noodles out of the fridge. He scooped them all onto a plate before placing it in the microwave. He didn’t have long to wait and they chatted across the room as the food reheated. When the microwave beeped, Dorian pulled the plate out, grabbed a fork and napkin, and brought it over to Bull. “There you are.” He took a seat on the couch beside Bull, sitting sideways so he was looking at the other with one leg drawn up. “It’s the first dish I’ve had in the South that I would dare to call ‘spicy’.”
Bull raised a brow but dug in after a silently urging from Dorian. He waited until he had finished his first bite before prodding Bull’s leg with his socked foot. “So, what’s the verdict? You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t like them; I didn’t make them, after all.” Bull had a remarkably well-developed poker face and it was impossible to tell.
Bull hummed and took another large bite, not actually answering until he had finished that as well. “They’re good!” He grinned. Gathering together another small pile of noodles on his fork, Bull held it out to Dorian. “Want some?”
“I ate at a reasonable hour.” He’d taken the time to prepare himself a small plate of cheese and fruit during his researching. It hadn’t been a hearty dinner but he’d eaten quite a bit at lunch and hadn’t been that hungry.
Bull raised a brow. “You sure?”
He was teasing now, Dorian knew it. Rolling his eyes, Dorian leaned forward. “Very well, you’ve convinced me.”
He reached forward and gently wrapped a hand around Bull’s wrist to steady it before opening his mouth and, with a sly glance up at Bull, closed his lips around the fork and pulled back. It was a bit silly, really, attempting to make eating take-out noodles seductive, but he was alright being a bit silly with Bull. The spicy sauce, which seemed to have only intensified since he had last tried it, burned lightly at his tongue and lips but as he finished with his bite and Bull grunted then leaned in for a kiss he didn’t hesitate for a second in responding.
Neither pulled away and the plate was quickly abandoned on the side table as Dorian wasted no time in climbing into Bull’s lap. After being so long without, it still felt as if he hadn’t had his fill of Bull yet. Just when he was about to start rutting against Bull’s stomach like a horny adolescent, he felt Bull rest a hand on his hip then leaned back until he broke their kiss. His voice was rough when he spoke and Dorian licked his lips at the sound of it. “Wait, first, what did you want to talk about?”
“It’s hardly worth the interruption,” Dorian whispered teasingly against Bull’s cheek before kissing his way up to nip playfully at Bull’s ear.
He grunted but held strong against Dorian’s temptations and eased him back until they were separated again. Dorian pouted but when Bull only raised a brow he heaved a sigh. “Very well, if we must be mature about this…”
Dorian slid off of Bull’s lap and sprawled back onto the couch beside him. His stomach was instantly in knots again but he was determined not to show it. “I met with Varric Tethras earlier today after I happened to run into him at the television station yesterday. He’s written a new screenplay and he asked if I would be interested in taking on one of the lead roles. The role in question, it sounds as if he nearly wrote it for me. But it would mean joining with Inquisition Studios in Skyhold.”
As he had been speaking, Bull had picked up his plate again but his eye never left Dorian’s face. He definitely had his full attention. “What did you tell him?”
Dorian shrugged. “I didn’t tell him anything. Not yet. He’s given me a week to consider. I haven’t even had a chance to read the script yet.”
“It would be a big decision.”
“I know,” Dorian swallowed. “There are many things that would change if I accepted. Some for the better but others…well, one in particular…I don’t know if I could accept…”
“Dorian…” Bull set his plate down for a second time, his brow furrowed. “You can’t let this,” he pointed between them, “stop you from doing what you need to do for you. You’re on the cusp of something big, and we both know it. Don’t throw that away.”
“I know! I know but I…” he closed his eyes, “there are so many factors to consider.” And a life without Bull seemed abhorrent. They had only known each other for a few months but Dorian had never had a relationship this easy, comfortable, and meaningful before. The idea of giving it up at the first presented opportunity made him feel sick. Especially since he had just gotten Bull back. But, at the same time, this was the sort of opportunity he had always dreamed of having. He could get out of Orlais, have a fresh start in Skyhold, and work with people who already seemed to value his talent. They were offering him the chance of success on a silver platter. And a dream role.
He didn’t realize he was getting lost in his own head until he felt a touch against his shoulder. He started in surprise and Bull squeezed down gently before smoothing his hand down Dorian’s arm. There was still concern in his eye but his lips quirked up in a grin. “Easy, Dorian. You have a week to think things over and I’m just a phone call away if you ever want someone to talk to or even just to use as a sounding board.” Dorian drew in a long breath of air through his nose and slowly released it before nodding. Bull nodded back and his grin widened as he ran his hand down to Dorian’s and intertwined their fingers. “In the meantime, how about I give you something else to think about for the rest of the night?”
Relief blossomed in Dorian’s chest. “Please do.” Nothing drove Dorian’s too-busy thoughts away like Bull.
Bull lived up to his words. He barely had time to finish his food before he and Dorian were pushing and shoving each other into Dorian’s bedroom. Bull drove him to incoherency and Dorian reveled in every second of it.
Six days and five nights later he appreciated that night all the more; Bull’s busy schedule hadn’t allowed him to visit since but Dorian could still feel the comfort that was given. He had spent the interim between their time together and the present trying to sort out his future. And now he found himself staring at his own reflection in the mirror, his thoughts still conflicted and his emotions a tangled mess in his chest.
His father had once told him that one couldn’t have everything they wanted in life; compromises were necessary. Which was how Dorian had been looking at all this until now: that there were two paths before him and he could only choose to walk one.
But there was no path. Uncharted territory lay before him and there was no reason walking in one direction didn’t mean that he couldn’t be moving toward multiple destinations at the same time. He had two goals: continue his career and stay with Bull. There was no reason why he couldn’t have both except for his own lack of imagination.
Struck with inspiration, Dorian picked up his phone and dialed then paced impatiently until he heard a soft click on the other end of the line. “Bull? Can you come over tonight?” His words came too quickly. He felt like a raw bundle of nerves and barely contained in his own skin. This had to work.
For all of Dorian’s excitement that Bull was sure to have picked up on, he kept his own voice level. “Sure. I cleared my schedule tonight so I should be able to get there around five.”
Dorian’s brows knit together. “Did you have other plans?”
“Nah. It’s just been six days since you last called me over and I figured since you had a week to think things over you might want to talk again tonight.”
“You…” Dorian released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “are unsettlingly perceptive at times.”
“Want me to pick up food on the way?”
“Thank you, that would be lovely. I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer here.”
“You usually don’t around this day of the week since you do your shopping on the weekend.”
He heard the smile in Bull’s voice and it managed to bring a smile to his own face. “Now you’re just showing off.”
“Only a little. See you soon.”
Minutes before five o’clock there was a knock on Dorian’s door and he nearly tripped over his own feet to answer it. He let Bull in with a kiss and happily accepted the bags of Nevarran take-out that he’d picked up on his way over. It was a difficult thing not to jitter about while they ate but Dorian did his best to maintain some semblance of calm. He didn’t want to make this more than it was. Or, rather, he didn’t want Bull to know quite how much of himself he’d already invested into all of this.
When they were finally finished eating, Dorian led Bull from his table to his couch and they settled against each other. Varric’s script was sitting very conspicuously on the table in front of them and both of their eyes fell to it immediately. Up until then, Bull had been very polite about not asking Dorian what decision he had made but he seemed to know that he was ready to talk about it now. Except Dorian didn’t know where to start. So Bull had the graciousness to do it for him. "So, what'd you think?"
"The script?” Dorian raised a brow, faking nonchalance as he smoothed a hand over his mustache. “It's typical Tethras rubbish…Absolutely beautiful rubbish." And it really was. It was obviously still a draft but still read like a best-seller novel: a riveting blend of the paranormal and thriller genres with comedic and romantic moments distributed throughout to make it a genuinely enjoyable story. It was by no means fine art, but if Inquisition Studios did even half a decent job in making the movie it was sure to be a hit.
"Does that mean you're signing on?"
"Yes, I think it does."
There was a shift in Bull; if Dorian hadn’t known him as long as he had and as intimately as he had, he wouldn’t have noticed. It was difficult to explain just what it was: a slight straightening of his shoulders, the tilt of his smile, a small tightness around his eye. It was something he was trying very hard not to show. "I hear Skyhold is nice this time of year. Colder though, you'll need a new set of winter coats."
Dorian’s heartrate picked up again and his gaze flickered away from Bull. He wouldn’t be able to keep up a causal front if he watched him now. "Why, when I'll have your unnaturally warm bulk to stand beside?"
Bull chuckled. "As much as I'd love it, I don't have the time to be your personal space heater. The Chargers have to earn a living."
"And they can't earn a living in Skyhold?"
There was a pregnant pause that hung heavy in the air probably for less than a second but to Dorian it seemed to last minutes.
"You want us to come with you?"
Dorian answered Bull’s question with another question. “You would trust another crew to manage my stunts?” His voice lifted in mock affront but his words started tumbling faster from his lips. “Do you know how many acrobatics this script calls for? Granted, not as many as Field of Bones, but I think I get thrown out a second story window at one point. Inquisition Studios has personally requested me for the film; I can’t imagine they would complain if I in turn requested to work with a specific stunt crew.”
He had felt Bull tense up a bit beside him but he released a soft hum. “You make a good point. I’ll talk to the team.”
“You’d be willing then? To come with me?” He finally dared to glance over at Bull and found him watching him.
“It’s not just me that I have to consider in that sort of decision. I’d go in a heartbeat but I wouldn’t drag my team along for the ride. But I think everyone’s getting tired of Orlais anyway.”
He hadn’t considered the opinions of the rest of the Chargers. Would they be willing to leave their current work behind on what was basically Dorian’s whim? Reaching out, Dorian wrapped his hand around Bull’s. “Ask them when you see them next, and tell me what they say immediately.” He didn’t have long now to make his decision.
Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long either.
Bull had spent the night but left Dorian’s apartment early the next morning to catch one of the first trains back to the studio lot. Dorian woke when Bull roused himself from bed but for once was unable to get back to sleep afterwards despite the early hour. He lazed around for about forty-five minutes attempting just that but when he realized that it was futile he reluctantly rolled out of bed and made himself some coffee. It had just finished brewing when Dorian’s cell phone rang.
He snatched it up from where it lay on the counter beside him. “Bull?”
“Hey, Dorian. If the offer still stands, we’re in.”
Dorian released a breathy laugh and gripped the counter, coffee entirely forgotten. “You have no idea what a relief it is to hear you say those words.”
“I think I do, kadan.”
Dorian’s heart caught in his throat. He didn’t know the word but it’s intention was clear enough. Another shaky laugh escaped him as he scrambled for a pad of paper and a pen then scribbled it down to search once he got off the line. “I’ll call Varric immediately to let him know.”
“You think you’ll have any problems tacking us on to your contract?”
“I am an excellent negotiator. And in this case I’m also extremely well motivated. Let me handle everything, amatus.”
It felt so incredible and right to say that word out loud, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. They quickly said their goodbyes—Bull had to work and Dorian had another call to make—but he felt as if he were floating.
The Chargers had agreed to come with him to Skyhold.
Bull was coming with him to Skyhold.
And “kadan”. What did it mean? Grabbing his phone, Dorian rushed across the room to his desk and woke his computer up. He pulled open his preferred translation website, typed in “kadan,” and…
Where the heart lies.
Dorian didn’t cry but only just.
He starred at it for a long moment before remembering his coffee. Right, coffee. Yes, he would need that. He shuffled back into the kitchen to finish preparing himself a cup before he sat back down at his desk. He made himself take the time to finish every last drop of coffee. and at a reasonable pace, so he could settle himself and his thoughts. Then, once his mug was empty and his nerves were still, he pulled out his phone again and dialed the number that Varric had listed on his business card.
He picked up on the second ring. “Hello, Varric Tethras.”
“Hello, Varric, this is Dorian Pavus.”
“Hey, it’s good to hear from you; I was going to give you a call later today. Have you had the chance to think our offer over?”
“Yes. I’d like to accept.”
“Great! I’ll get your flight sorted out and--”
Dorian sucked in a breath and interrupted. “But I have some demands.”
He heard Varric laugh on the other end of the line. “Why am I surprised? Alright, let’s hear them. Wait, let me grab a pen…” He heard some shuffling and Dorian interrupted him before he searched too hard.
Dorian exhaled and cleaned back in his seat. “That won’t be necessary. They’re fairly straightforward. I will need seven extra tickets with my flight.”
“For…?”
“I’m bringing along my own crew members. The Chargers, they manage and perform stunts and—“
This time it was Varric who interrupted him. “Oh, Tiny?” Dorian frowned and mouthed ‘Tiny’ against the phone. “Sure, bring him and his crew along. Josephine’s been working on a way to steal the Chargers from Sun Gate for months! Besides, I figured he’d be tagging along eventually if you agreed.”
“How’s that?”
“Come on, I saw you two together on set, and I saw the way you were looking at each other when you don’t think the other one was watching. Where do you think I got the inspiration for the romance in Hushed? You’re not the first odd couple I’ve seen so I had it figured out pretty quick.” Dorian sputtered out something that was supposed to be a protest and Varric chuckled. “Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll take care of all the details; I’ll email you once we get them all hammered out on our end. Just tell everyone to pack up their stuff, cancel their leases, whatever they need to do. Lace Harding, one of our staff members, will be out there in three weeks to collect you.”
“But, I...Yes, alright then. I’ll let them know.”
“Good. And Sparkler? Welcome to Inquisition Studios.”