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They were all deep in their cups during a game of What The Fuck is Up With That.
As the fourth round hit, the last round being Laudna asking Chetney about his first time the ‘wolf mode’ activated, Imogen had expressed surprise at getting her turn at asking a question.
Dorian whined as he admitted he rolled the lowest.
Imogen studies Dorian, and Orym had determined before, she would be the worst opponent in this game, with her abilities. A slow smile creeps up her face, and a pause falls over the group.
Laudna leans in, waiting for something to happen. Even Ashton and Chetney look intrigued by this turn of events.
“Dorian… you mentioned you were betrothed. Technically. What the fuck is up with that?” Imogen asks politely, her gaze glinting like a sharp knife.
Dorian sighs. “All I meant by it is that… well… The sons of the family usually get… Options for marriage. It was just another reason I didn’t want to stay there for long.”
Fresh Cut Grass gets to the point. “Hmm, is there someone you did or do fancy back home? I assume not, if you did leave.”
Orym doesn’t like the forwardness of the question. Perhaps it is simply a naive curiosity, and yet. Dorian doesn’t have to answer something he doesn’t want to. Everyone else seems to be able to read minds suddenly, as mischievous looks appear on their faces.
Ashton pipes up. “I allow this follow up.”
Dorian looks like he wants to roll his eyes, which is endearing to Orym. The genasi shifts his tongue before saying: “No. No one back home.”
“Wait…” Fearne says immediately.
She grins at Orym, a panic flares up inside. Why did she look at him?
Fearne looks at Dorian. “Dorian, are you saying there is someone outside your home you fancy?”
Dorian looks like he has been caught. “Uh.”
Ashton shrugs. “He doesn’t have to answer that one.”
Chetney snorts. “Bullshit. That is a valid question. Come on blue boy, answer the woman’s question!”
Ashton gives him the finger. Orym thinks about diffusing the situation, because really, Dorian has said enough. His heart beating faster only has to do with the panic Fearne sparked in him.
He moves in his seat, trying to get taller. As he opens his mouth, Imogen interrupts him. “If you don’t want to answer that, it is fine.”
Dorian looks between her and Fearne. “Fearne has witnessed many of my adventures. It’s only fair that I answer her since we've been longtime friends. And I am sure she is curious about it. That’s natural.”
Orym marvels at how Dorian weaves his words carefully, making him sound so polite and thoughtful. While he knows he is a kind person, he also knows that a mask is being held up, and Dorian is likely not wanting to actually answer this.
Fearne eggs him on. “I am curious, yes. You were out by yourself for months before we ran into you… I wonder what you got up to. Surely you slept with at least one person?”
Her crassness causes some people to laugh, some to slap their hands on the table. Chetney is looking at her with stars in his eyes. Orym can hear Ashton mutter to Letters, “is this guy for real?”
Dorian doesn’t look alarmed, though if this were a few months ago, he likely would have. It might be the first time he has seen his cheeks turn a different color.
“No.. I haven’t slept with anyone… Uh, I might have kissed a few people? Not sure. The Everdawn was my first real, uh, experience in gallivanting.”
“Fuck, we never got our memories back!” Fearne suddenly says.
Orym’s heart relaxes a little, and he chuckles, remembering their meeting. Or rather, lack of one. He may not remember the first time he laid eyes on Dorian, but it doesn’t matter. Their bond was special from the beginning.
Fresh Cut Grass and Laudna both ask confusedly, what Fearne means by that.
Dorian cuts in. “Now, if you want to ask, you are gonna need to roll high.” He has the audacity to wink.
“Fuck,” Ashton mumbles.
Dorian takes a free sip of his drink.
Chetney slams a fist on the table. “Okay, but seriously. Just say it. Do you have a current crush? What the fuck is up with that?”
Imogen looks unimpressed towards the woodworker. “You’re still going to be a prickly bastard to him?”
Letters frowns. “With all respect, it is not your turn-”
“Yes,” Dorian grits out, shutting up the crosstalk. Imogen looks surprised, Fearne is full of mischief, her fingers tapping against the table.
Dorian sighs a long sigh. “There, happy? There's someone I left behind, once. I don't want to do it again. I suppose… if I look deep enough I find myself falling for him.”
"Ooh!" Laudna's eyes alight with excitement. "How romantic of you."
Fearne giggles. "Thank you for the insight, friend.”
Dorian nods. “Now if you don’t mind, I would really like to be done with being in the spotlight.”
Chetney glances at Orym, and Orym ignores his gaze. Instead, he looks at his drink. Which is almost finished.
He's not gonna steal any sips from Dorian tonight.
Laudna fiercely nods, her chin lifted high, her lips pursed. “We are done with the interrogation. We should really move on to the next person! There is only so much time for us to uncover all of our secrets.”
Dorian shakes his head. "I have the right to my feelings. And privacy."
Imogen raises her hands. "I swear, I was not looking."
"Good."
Ashton slams a cup down. "As interesting as this is, I kind of want to get away from the love questions. Can we move on?"
That of course raises some eyebrows, but FCG speaks fast before anyone interjects. "If that's what you would like. Rollies!"
Orym is thankful he has already been asked a question. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to play this anymore.
Dorian crystallizing the idea of him liking someone is playing over in his mind.
There is someone out there. Who has the affections of Dorian's heart.
And he's pretty sure he knows who it is. And unfortunately, it's not him.
That's okay. Jealous, he may have been- if his life were differently carved. He feels mostly content. Happy even, that Dorian is acknowledging love is out there for him. If anyone deserves to be loved, it's him.
He waits approximately five minutes until after the game is over. Somehow, he and his friends had avoided being asked about the Everdawn. That is a whole series of events he still has mixed feelings about.
The three of them never really talk about the old days anymore. Maybe that is a good thing.
He heads up to bed, citing that he needs to go to bed early to get up early. No one fights him on it.
While he tries to steer his thoughts away from the first few weeks he knew Dorian and Fearne, he methodically lays out his weapon and shield.
He unlatches his sandals, unhooks his armor. A gentle toss lands them on the bed with a careful precision.
He undresses, and slips on a pair of sleep pants. A part of him wants to put on the loose shirt he keeps as an extra. He debates internally, and ultimately decides to put it on. The oil lamp burns in the corner, providing a modicum of warmth. He takes a second to stand alone, in the room. He may have minutes to hours before his friends retire for the night. It depends.
Putting away his armor along with his sword and shield, only halfway into his bag. His duty never really ends. He has to keep watch, even when he may want to turn away.
Unbidden to him, a memory visits him. Dorian and Dariax sleeping, back to back. Him, sitting up in a tree. Watching over the two of them. At the time, he was merely watching them, ensuring that nothing was creeping towards either one.
In retrospect… He can recall his eyes drifting to Dorian a few more times than to Dariax. Okay. A lot more.
Then there is another memory.
Another time, when they were nearing Niirdal-Poc. Catching glances at Dariax’s nude form, appreciating it. Feeling guilty as soon as he looked at Dorian, and wished he was more comfortable. Though he remained clothed, he looked beautiful.
An even earlier memory arrives, back when Orym had returned from his morning walk. Dorian stringing along a tune. Orym had a waning thought that his music would be great accompaniment on his walks.
Later, when he shot Dorian a look, after the disastrous distraction plan they had tried to come up with. A look he can only describe as one a spouse shares with their spouse. That was a joke in his head for so long.
And now, it hits a little different.
He slaps his cheek, groaning. Shaking his head as if his memories could just fall out of him like that. He knows now, right now, yes, he adores his friend. He really really likes him. Back then? It couldn’t have been love at first sight, but every memory is so much.
For whatever reason, his mind is cursed. It circles back to that first memory. Where he clocked Dariax and Dorian sleeping. He was concerned about the circlet, of course he was.
Deep down inside, there was a feeling he had forgotten long ago. Slowly but surely, creeping up. He was a lot better at putting the reins on feelings at the time.
He pulls out the sword from its resting place.
Waving his sword in rhythmic motions, ones he is so familiar with, they are soothing to recreate. The winds of Zephrah at his back, the bittersweet memories of home offer a comfort he desperately needs.
Once he finishes the nightly ritual, his brain seems to have calmed down somewhat. His heart is beating fast, but he likes to think it is because of the activity he just did.
Running a hand through his hair, he goes to sit down by the bed, his back resting against the mattress.
The door opens suddenly, and he can’t help but jolt, hands springing off the floor as he stands up.
Dorian comes walking through, with a sly smile on his face. It drops when he sees him. “Did I wake you? Okay, probably not. Um…are you enjoying the floor there?”
He closes the door behind him, and Orym swallows. “Yes, I just finished exercising actually. I was taking a break.”
“Ah. Sorry if I spooked you.” Dorian says.
“Where’s Fearnie?” Orym deflects.
Dorian glances back at the now closed door. “The others are still talking. Ashton was introducing us to a card game that is popular in this area. I was getting tired so… I escaped.”
Orym sits back down. His heart beats loudly in his ears, and he resigns to watching his friend walk across the room, and detach the lute on his back.
He keeps his eyes trained on the wall in front of him as Dorian gets dressed for bed.
A body slumps down next to him, and Orym glances over. Dorian has changed quickly, and he has the lute in his hands. He grins.
“I also wanted to practice playing. Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” Orym whispers.
Dorian tests out the strings in various ways.
Orym tries not to get swept up in the tune, it is the exact one from that morning walk. All those months ago. His cheeks start to flush, and he almost laughs out loud at the silliness of it all.
He disguises his laugh with a clearing of his throat, which catches Dorian’s attention. His tune draws slower.
Dorian eventually stops playing. “What’s up?”
Orym swerves fast, facing Dorian. “Huh?”
Dorian frowns. “You seem… I don’t know. Contemplative? Like you’re zoning out a lot?”
Is he getting that obvious? Orym looks down and fiddles with his fingers. "Uh, it's not important."
Dorian clicks his tongue, pats his lute, and sets it aside. "Well now I know it is. You know you bring attention to something when you try to downplay it, yes?"
He leans in playfully, expression full of whimsy. Like he's waiting for Orym to laugh. Orym huffs as he snaps a thread off his pants. Sitting cross legged feels cramped.
He tries to sit differently, legs straightened out. Dorian watches him.
Orym sighs. "I really don't think it's important to bring up right now. Honestly."
"Orym. Whatever you say is important to me."
And oh. That's a special thought. Orym wants to scream at him, and kiss him senseless.
He stays sentry. Unmoving. Dorian is serious, but also still playful.
Orym doesn't crack.
Until Dorian looks away. And abruptly looks back. An eyebrow raised. He's ready for a confession.
Orym can't take him seriously as he slowly reaches for his lute and leans closer to him. That curious gleam in his eye sends him over the edge. He looks absolutely ridiculous!
"Okay. Okay. If I tell you. Will you let it go? And don't laugh. Please?"
Dorian once again drops the lute gently, his eyes never leaving Orym. "I promise. What's wrong?"
Orym pouts. "Nothing’s wrong. It's just.. I got caught up thinking about our early adventure. When we were in Tal'Dorei."
Dorian leans back finally, giving him some space. He looks up to the right. "Yeah. Man, we never really talk about it. Was it a scary time for you? I think I can admit, it definitely was for me.”
He opens his mouth, and takes a moment to get it out. “Honestly, yeah. This was the first time in a while that I was making friends. And at first… I was totally losing my mind.”
“We were a chaotic bunch,” Dorian says fondly.
“Yep.”
Dorian narrows his eyes. “Is that all?” He knows. He has some idea, surely, since it doesn’t take a genius to remember exactly what questions he was asked not even an hour ago.
Orym admits the depth of his thoughts, his hands interlaced in his lap. "I was remembering you and Dariax. You guys seemed close."
"Did we?" Dorian asks. His eyebrows furrow. That.. did not sound as confident as he sounded when he spoke downstairs. Huh.
"Uh.. maybe I read it wrong…" Orym begins, now unsure of himself and his perception. He's been good at reading a room, most times, but maybe he's overstepped.
Dorian is silent. Orym faces it head on.
"I guess I figured, you had figured out your feelings for him? I don't mean to assume, of course… I just want you to be happy. If he makes you happy, that is wonderful. Finding a love like that, like you described, it's rare. Trust me."
Dorian is awfully silent. Orym puts on a brave face. He has not regretted talking like this since he was back in Zephrah. When he was a lot less confident and more attuned to being in the background.
He's gotten used to being bolder. And that's all thanks to Dorian. Orym looks away, and he feels a burning stare to his side.
"I know, Orym… I trust you." Dorian speaks so quietly.
Orym picks his head up, and slowly turns back to Dorian. His eyes are.. rather bright. Like…
Oh no.
A single tear escapes him. And he smiles. "It means a lot for you to say that. I didn't want to spill it out like that in front of everyone, but… the person I care for is worth it. I want him to know how much I…"
"Whoever gets your attention is a lucky one."
His heart burns, with passion and a twinge of sadness, but he's used to loss. Having Dorian as his friend is a privilege. One he won't lose.
Dorian shifts, and the floor creaks. Orym almost jumps at the sound.
He leans back into the bed, trying to find a good spot within the mattress to act as a pillow. Dorian is looking at him. "You should know… heh.. it's not Dariax."
"Oh," Orym says.
He thinks back to the mandolin Dorian got. He did say it was a gift from everyone, but Dariax was the one to present it, apparently. Was it really just a friendly gift?
Dorian shakes his head, holding back a laugh. "I don't think I really.. crushed on him. No.. someone else caught my eye."
Here, Orym's heart has returned to stuttering.
Orym glances up at Dorian, who has slid closer to him. His shoulder brushes against his arm.
"Are you going to tell him?"
"What?" Dorian asks like he's out of breath. That's odd.
"Tell the person you like. Confess."
"I hope to, one day."
"What's stopping you? The distance? Or is it timing? Don't tell me they are secretly evil…"
Dorian blinks, and shakes his head with a laugh. "Ha, no… nothing like that. Well. Distance played a part. For a while."
Orym is genuinely curious now. Who has captured Dorian's heart?
This is a totally normal conversation for friends to have. Sure.
"If you need help confessing, you can ask. I mean, I do have some experience," Orym smiles. Maybe he's only had one relationship, but hey, maybe that's all he needs.
Dorian has been isolated for so long, and he's only now getting to experience typical things like finding friends and drawing boundaries. Relationships are also something he's interested in. Clearly. If he could help… in some way.. he would want to do it.
As a friend, truthfully. He doesn't need Dorian to love him back. He really wants to help him.
"How would you do it?" Orym starts to ramble. He's aware he may be scaring Dorian. But he needs to fill the room with conversation. "Write a song? A letter? Maybe a monologue? You are good with words so.. it shouldn't be too hard."
Dorian gets a strange expression on his face. "Um."
"Sorry. Am I pushing you? You can be ready whenever. I'm really excited for you."
"That's.. kind of you. I mean.. Thank you. Really. But uh…" Dorian scratches his chin. "You should know I would never write a song to confess. That's too cliché."
Orym smiles. "I do know that. But I had to ask."
"I haven't changed that much."
The reminder that there had been distance between them for some time makes him ache. For a brief second.
It is in the past. What matters is now.
As they both share a grin, Orym rests easier against the bed. Dorian still looks a little guarded. He takes a deep breath, his eyes steeled for something. Orym feels his gut clench.
Dorian says, "I was scared at first, but now that I am back, the distance isn't a problem anymore. The one I love is right in front of me."
And just like that, Orym is left speechless.
Dorian starts to sweat. He remains still, but the panic is clear on his face.
Orym blinks a bunch of times. "Me? Seriously?"
"I swear, it's you. There's no one else it could be."
Orym's heart is pounding out of his chest. He grabs Dorian's shirt. "I.. wasn't sure. I didn't want to hope. In case it was just me that was feeling this way."
Dorian grins. "Feeling this way?"
Orym smiles back. "I love you too, you dork."
Dorian hugs him, maneuvering their bodies so that Orym is practically in his lap.
Orym feels weightless in Dorian's hold.
He stares at Dorian. His face is slightly angled up, as if he's stargazing. His focus is on Orym though. He ducks his head under the piercing gaze of his friend.
Dorian whines. "Don't hide from me now."
"Sorry," Orym whispers into the darkness.
"I.. am relieved. We are on the same page. I think. You did mean it.. more than platonic, right?" Dorian asks, his hands finding placement on Orym’s hips.
His eyebrows raise. "I think I have loved you for a long time." He says, caught up in old memories and an overflowing joy in his chest.
Dorian is now the one shocked. "How long are we talking?"
Orym laughs all of a sudden. The tension left him like a balloon deflating. "I don't know. I just know it's been a while, and I keep finding things I like about you. Even from the beginning. There's something about you that's so… charming."
Dorian finds it in him to laugh as well. "I'm glad you think I'm charming. You're not so bad yourself."
Orym deflates completely, and slumps onto Dorian. He plants his head on his chest. The laughter continues. "How are you so suave right now?"
"Excuse me. Is that a teasing remark?" Dorian says. In a totally teasing tone.
Orym looks up. He leans in, and places his hands around Dorian's neck. He hears a gasp from him.
"May I kiss you?" Orym asks, hoping he doesn't sound impatient.
Dorian nods mutely. His lips part. Orym can't wait to feel those lips on his.
So he doesn't.
The room is dead quiet when Orym feels a stare on him. He gazes at the watcher in question. Here, they lay in bed once again, like many nights before. Some things won't change, after all.
"I need to ask you something," Dorian says, deadly serious.
"Are we okay?"
"We’re good. I- I was thinking.. back to you thinking about Dariax. You really thought there was something between us?"
Orym blinks slowly. "I think all of us did. The Crown Keepers. It was.. something." He frowns.
"Dariax, really? We cuddled a few times! That's all!"
"It looked more intimate than that."
"Nah, it was friendly cuddling. Like you and I do with Fearne. Wait, were you watching us?"
"Perhaps. A few times. I was doing my duty."
"Duty my ass." There's a brief pause. Dorian knocks his forehead against Orym’s. "You were jealous. Oh my gods."
"No..."
"Don't deny it." Dorian leans away, with a foxy grin.
"Maybe I was. I'm not sure what I was feeling exactly, to be honest. It was a lot."
Dorian sobers. Leaning closer again. Their breaths intermingled in the small cozy nook they've made for themselves. "I have no idea what it's like.. you've been through so much. I hope to make you happy. That's all I want, really."
Orym feels a weight lifted off of him. He nods intently. "You do make me happy. To be fair though, you've been through shit too. We shouldn't compare our troubles, it won't do us any good."
"You're right. Let's get some sleep."
"Wonder if Fearne is even going to join us at this point. It's kind of late."
Dorian nuzzles into the bed further. "Think she's going to be surprised by us?"
"Getting together? I don't think so."
Dorian sighs wistfully, eyes closed. "Well apparently you and her thought my big crush was on Dariax, so…"
"Are you mad about it?"
"No!" Dorian laughs. It's genuine.
Orym finally closes his eyes. Satisfied by Dorian's amusement.
He feels close to sleep once again, and then he hears a whisper:
"You complimented Dariax's ass but not mine? Is his truly better?"
"Now who's jealous?" Orym shoots back without venom.
The boys share a few giggles, and Orym is amazed at how natural it all is. Their banter is relatively as it was. Maybe a bit more romantically charged. It feels good.
He peeks a glance at Dorian, whose eyes are closed. He wants to reach out and trace his jaw. He could.
While he could, he does not take his chance. There are still things they need to talk about, but for now, he will happily watch Dorian.
It won't be the last time he keeps his eyes on him.