#fun fact he's named after dorian gray bc that's my fave book of all time

[sageblogsthings]

[id: a golden sword with a gilded hilt leans across the arm of a velvet-covered chair. On the hilt of the sword is a crest depicting a gold lion on a red background. The chapter title over the image reads Dorian in white all caps lettering. /end id]

violence tw (there’s a bar fight)

"You know, if you wanted to take my breath away you could have just asked me out," Dorian grinned as a cutlass was pressed to his throat.

"You sure you wanna be flirting with me when I could kill you?”

"Ah, what's romance without a little danger?”

"You really love to hear yourself talk don't you?”

"Of course I do. You could shut me up though, if you like," he said with a wink. He leaned back against the bar, angling his head upwards to grin into the face of the brawny figure towering over him. He noticed the man’s eyes flash towards the bar before baring down on him.

“Look, I don’t need to fight you. If you agree to come with me, there doesn’t need to be any bloodshed.”

“Oh, really? How kind you are,” Dorian sneered. “But I think I’d rather you leave now,” he growled as he grabbed a nearby empty bottle and smashed it on the countertop. Before the cutlass at his throat could move even a hair, Dorian had the bottle at the man’s throat.

The brutish figure stepped back, beginning to raise his arms in surrender. "Fine, you wi—"

Shwiiip!

Dorian turned to see a dagger lodged in the wall behind him. Scanning the room, he saw the man responsible beginning to reach for his belt. Without hesitation, he leapt across the tavern and brought the bottle down over the man’s knee. With a bloodcurdling scream, he collapsed onto the wooden floor, pieces of glass sticking protruding from his leg at odd angles.

"I think that's quite enough," Dorian's trademark jovial tone was gone, replaced with absolute venom. "Are you going to leave or should I get some more bottles?" He leveled a look at the man with the cutlass, turning his body slightly towards the bar.

With a nod of finality, the brawny man turned on his heel towards the entrance, daring a last glance at the bar. A glance which almost seemed to say I'm sorry, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Some of his company grabbed their injured companion and carried him out of the bar. After the last of them had left, Dorian rushed to the woman behind the bar, tossing the bottle on a nearby table.

"Tov, are you okay?”

"I--yes. What does Mikah want with you?”

“Wait, who?”

“The tall brute with the cutlass and nice eyes. He stayed in a room here a couple nights ago. Seemed troubled, but kind. Not unlike you when you first came in that door.” She crossed her arms over her breast, looking crestfallen. “I knew he was hesitant to tell me what his line of work was for a reason, I should’ve pushed it more.”

“It’s okay Tov. And I can’t say I blame him, it seems like he’s a mercenary of some kind. The problem is I don't know who's hired him and the rest of those goons. Whoever they are, they seem convinced that I have something of theirs," Dorian recalled the conversation with the brutish man that had led to the bar fight. He had simply stated that Dorian had something they needed, and refused to provide any helpful information. When Dorian had said that he owned precious few belongings, and that whatever he did have he certainly wasn't about to give to a stranger in a bar, the man had drawn his cutlass. Odd, seeing as how reluctant he was to actually fight. There had to be more to the story there, but Dorian couldn’t puzzle it out.

She stirred him from his thoughts, "Dorian, you're bleeding!”

"Huh?" He looked down to see blood dripping onto his shoulder. Reaching up to his ear, he felt a slight notch in it. Guess I didn't dodge that dagger as well as I thought. "Aw man, I just did laundry.”

"Sit down over there, I'll go get some honey and silk so it won't get infected." With more grumbling about laundry he waddled over to the table and plopped down. Tov returned shortly, disinfecting and bandaging the wound with practiced fingers. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What's wrong? You're not hurt are you?”

"No, no it's not that. I'm just worried.”

"Oh, you don't need to worry. I've dealt with much worse," he puffed out his chest and arched an eyebrow theatrically.

A small smile graced her thin lips, "yes I know, I've been here for every version of your drunken tales. But I don't just mean you. I'm worried," she gestured around the bar "about this happening again. If you don't know what they want with you, what's to stop them from coming back? This whole situation just seems unusual, not like a typical mercenary contract or they would have just killed you here.”

“Killed me, my dear? They could try,” he smiled, then winced as she applied the honey to his ear. “But I agree, this seems like a very odd contract indeed. And you’re right, I don’t know what would stop them from coming back,” he gazed at his boots, a downtrodden expression flickering across his angular features.

"Dorian," she placed the excess cloth on the table and cupped her hands around his own. "You know I adore you, and that you will always have a place here. I'm not kicking you out so don't look like that, you're practically family.” How the hell can she always read my mind like that? "I'm not asking you to leave, I'm just asking you to find out what happened. I can't afford another bar fight, and more importantly I don't want you getting hurt again.”

"This? It's a flesh wound my darling, nothing to worry about," he flashed her a lopsided grin. "But I hear you. I'm going to ask some of my contacts and see if they know anything. Don't worry, I'll figure this out. I'm not going to risk your safety again.”

She snorted, "I'm not worried about my safety, I'm worried about yours. Don't do that martyr thing you do and get yourself killed, okay?”

His eyes glittered mischievously, and he placed a carnelian-red hand over his chest in mock offense. "Whatever do you mean, my dear?" Her laughter was music to his ears. It made him think of bluebells, if faeries enchanted them to sing. "Ah, my favorite sound. I promise, Tov, I'm going to find out what these ill-mannered brutes want and once I do I'll come back. I'll also be disgustingly rich by then, and we'll fix this whole place up." He stood as he spoke, pulling a traveling cloak over his glittering horns and striding towards the door.

"And just where are you going to get all these riches?"

"Nowhere you can prove," he smirked over his shoulder, and with an intentionally dramatic whirl of his cape he disappeared into the night.

#dorian is probably my favorite character atm #he is my gayby and i love him #also ik it's not super clear in this chapter but he's a red tiefling with yellow eyes and lots of gold decorations on his horns #and he is hella gay #like so gay #like unprecedented levels of gay #fun fact he's named after dorian gray bc that's my fave book of all time #and he's lowkey a hedonist #i wrote this on very little sleep so i will make some edits later but i just love my bby so much i hope u guys do too #arnora #kit chats #dorian #tiefling #writer #writing #fantasy #queer #novel #lgbt fiction #high fantasy #writeblr #violence tw