Chapter Text
He was drunk. Jude didn’t think he has ever been this drunk, his head was too heavy to lift and any time he opened his eyes the world swam. His thoughts were just a jumbled mess, everything non sequitur, nothing making sense. Which, really, is why he decided to drink himself into oblivion in the first place. He didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to remember. All he knew right then was that he was incredibly drunk in the tavern and the bartender wouldn’t serve him any longer. The Bull had tried talking to him earlier, but the conversation was more a series of grunts and “leave me alone Bull”. The Bull had eventually obliged, leaving him desperately alone once more. He wondered what the people thought of him, their great leader reduced to a drunken mess. Jude didn’t want to be their leader anyways, it only seemed fair he didn’t have to act like one.
The stool next to him scraped across the floor, reverberating through his head like a dragon’s screech. Jude sluggishly opened his eyes, blinking at the blurry figure sitting next to him. He blinked again and the image cleared a bit, just enough to see dark hair, tanned olive skin and that ridiculous mustache.
“Dorian,” Jude slurred. It came out more of “Door-ran” than his actual name. He attempted a smile, but he wasn’t sure if it worked or not. Maker he was drunk. He watched Dorian call the bartender over, they exchanged some words, then Dorian was handed a glass of water, and what looked like a glass of red wine. Dorian slid the water to him, face as serious as Jude’s ever seen it.
“Drink, Trevelyan, or you are going to wake up with a nasty little hangover tomorrow. Trust me, you really don’t want that.” Jude looked from Dorian to the glass, mind sluggishly trying to make his arm move to grasp it. Dorian waited patiently as Jude slid an arm from underneath his head and almost knocked the glass over before finally wrapping his fingers around it. The cold felt nice against his heated skin.
“Thanks,” Jude muttered, raising his head to sip from the cup. He was surprised he could even lift his head.
“How much did you drink?”
“I lost count,” It took him a while to answer, trying and failing to remember, “more than six.”
“Please tell me you were drinking that Ferelden piss and not something stronger.” Jude didn’t answer him, staring instead into the glass of water. He felt sick. His thoughts were coming back to him, swirling and haunting. His own words were taunting him, “This is exactly the time for ideals” circling back to the forefront of his mind. Jude blinked at the water, wishing he could have more of that nice bottle of Antivan brandy.
Dorian sighed and set his hand on Jude’s shoulder. The weight of it felt nice, grounding Jude to the moment instead of his nauseating thoughts. He turned to look at Dorian, finally fully seeing him for the first time that night. With Jude's mind clear for the moment, he let the sight of Dorian sink into him. Dorian looked... exhausted. His hair was a mess, strands falling down his forehead and into his black ringed eyes. His face was set into a worried stare, mouth pulled down at the edge, eyes squinted with something darker hiding behind his lashes. Jude wished he could kiss that frown away, but Dorian had never showed any interest in him beyond friendship and that was okay with Jude. It was. Really. He would never ask for more from the man, Dorian deserved better than what he had to offer. They all did.
“I’m sorry.” Jude felt the words rush out, tears coming to his eyes quickly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t,” He paused, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, “I’m the Inquisitor. I shouldn’t be seen like this. Moral and all.” Dorian tightened his grip, leaning closer until their foreheads touched.
“You do all you can for them, you are remarkable Jude,” Dorian’s hand moved up, soothing the back of his neck with his thumb. “But you are only one man, Inquisitor or not.”
Jude let out a small laugh and closed his eyes to savor Dorian’s movements, hoping the moment wouldn’t end. He wanted to be this close to him forever, Dorian's hand on the back of his neck. Their breathe intermingling
“Oh? Did I say something to amusing?”
“No, that was just the first time you’ve ever said my name.” Jude opened his eyes again; glad to see the upward tilt now gracing Dorian’s mouth. “It was nice.”
“I’ll have to do it more often then."
Jude smiled back, relaxing into the intimacy of the moment. He was too drunk and too distracted by Dorian’s closeness to remember they weren’t in private, that the world outside of their two bodies still existed. Too caught up in the moment to remember that Dorian was just his friend and that kissing him right then would be a colossally bad idea. Way too absorbed by his lips so close to think about the reason he was sitting there drunk in the first place.
“Dorian,” This time it came out right, falling off his tongue in a whisper as he leaned forward, ghosting his lips against the other man’s. Jude’s eyes fluttered closed as he moved closer, putting more pressure into the kiss. It took him a moment to realize Dorian wasn’t kissing him back, thumb stilled on the back of Jude’s neck. Jude jerked away; face flushing more than it already was.
“I’m,” Jude stuttered out, embarrassment and shame flooding him. He stumbled off his stool, knocking over the glass of water, feet tangling together as the world spun for a moment. Dorian was frozen, eyes wide as his hand dropped from where it had been resting on Jude’s neck. “I’m sorry.” Jude felt like he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. Maker’s balls, he fucked this one up. How could he have thought that was a good idea? He felt sick again. Yet, he could still feel the tingling pressure of where his lips had touched Dorian’s and if he was alone he would press his fingers against them, savor it just a bit more.
But he wasn't alone, they weren't alone, and he was coming back to reality fast.
The rest of the tavern was staring at them, watching like hawks. Jude wanted to run, but he wasn’t sure he could in this state. His legs were wobbly beneath him and he felt like any moment they would stop working and he’d be on the floor.
“I should go.” Water was dripping off the counter, glass broken on the ground and Jude felt like everything was closing in on him again. The Fade, the execution, and now Dorian. Everything was a mess and it was all his fault. Drinking hadn’t helped anything and he had been foolish to think it would. Tears came to his eyes once more and this time they overflowed, falling down his cheeks like rain, catching in his eyelashes as he tired to blink them away.
Dorian was still frozen in his seat. The tavern was so silent you’d think no one else was there. Jude couldn’t move, even though he wanted to flee, it was like his one simple mistake had frozen time around them. Tears flowed freely down his face, blurring his vision as he heard someone approach. He turned to see it was the Bull, Cole like a wisp following along.
“Come on boss. Let me take you back to your room.” The Bull gently cupped his wrist. Jude nodded shakily, letting himself be pulled away from the disaster he'd made. He could hear Dorian get off the stool as he left, words of apologies spilling out to the bartender and everyone who would listen. Jude squeezed his eyes shut, wishing there was no need for apologies, wishing he'd kept to himself, told Dorian to leave when he'd first sat down. Wishing he'd never agreed to come the conclave in the first place.
“Thoughts rushing, the Fade lurking behind closed eyes, This is exactly the time for ideals! You were so angry, people were dead and it was your fault, someone had to pay.” Cole was suddenly in front of them, eyes wide and haunting. He could see all his pain reflected back in Cole’s eyes, the all consuming guilt. Jude had to look away, staring at the Bull’s hand engulfing his wrist instead. “But it’s not your fault, Jude. You made the right decision.”
“Kid,” The Bull warned, voice rumbling through the air. Cole ducked his head before straightening his shoulders and stubbornly looking Jude in the eyes. Jude couldn’t look away this time, locked in Cole’s eyes, the stubborn set of his jaw.
“The kiss wasn’t your fault either. It was just the wrong time.” Jude couldn’t help but think he was the wrong person too. Cole’s lips turned down further. “Why can’t you believe he wants you too?”
“Cole, seriously, this isn’t the right time.” The Bull started walking again, patting Cole on the shoulder with his free hand. “Talk to him when he’s not drunk off his ass.” Cole nodded seriously as they passed him, as if he saw it as an order. Jude didn’t want to have that conversation ever, but stopping Cole was a hard thing to do when he set his mind to helping. When they got outside, the cold air rushed over Jude’s skin, cooling him in an instant. He shivered, looking at the Bull with wonder. He wanted to forget everything that had happened in the tavern, but he was sobering up, his head pounding with an incoming migraine and all the events of the night circling through his mind.
They, thankfully, walked in silence across the court yard and up the step to the main part of Skyhold. Once inside Jude thanked the Maker that the throne room was empty at this time at night; the only sound was bird wings echoing from the tower. The Bull walked him to the door of his quarters, stopping just outside it. Clearly waiting for Jude to speak before he left.
“Thank you,” Jude whispered. He felt like talking any louder would disturb the peace. The Bull looked so serious in the low lighting from the lamps. He was encompassed in darkness, the warm glow of the fire lighting only the left side of his face, catching his horns in an almost angelic light.
“The kid is right you know.” He didn’t look at Jude as he said this, eyes directed at the throne, “You think everything’s always your fault and you never let anyone into that head of yours.” He turned to look at him then, face neutral where a smile would normally be. Tonight was apparently “be serious at Jude” night. He couldn’t blame them, he was a wreck. “Cole wants to help, and so do we. Stop pushing us away because you’re scared of losing us. We are your friends, boss. We aren’t going to leave you or stick you in a fucking Circle.” Jude looked away, a lump caught in his throat. Bull sighed and finally let go of his wrist. “Look, when you want to stop isolating yourself like an idiot, you know where to find us.”
Jude listened, standing frozen at the door, as Bull left.