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Dorian had never even conceived of going on a romantic holiday before, but when he and Bull had solidified their...Something...Bull apparently decided to go all out.
And Val Royeaux was, well, not Minrathous. But it was an actual city with proper markets. And it was in the South, and they could hold hands and no one would dare say a word (not with Bull around, at least). Bull took him to the fancy cosmetics shop he hadn't been able to afford when he first came upon Val Royeaux, and he showed Bull the dawnstone knives he'd spotted at a master swordsmith's storefront.
They were designed to fit a lady's hand and as such were little better than nail clippers for the Iron Bull, but he had a few words with the smith about edge versus fragility and came away satisfied, with a commission for a new beltknife. Something Varric could use as a shortsword, probably.
The pair of them couldn't stop smiling at each other like idiots and at some point Bull had wrapped a heavy arm ever-so-gently around Dorian's shoulders, a more casual, platonic touch than Dorian not-so-secretly desired, but probably as much as he could realistically handle in public, walking about in broad daylight. Leaning into Bull's side in the dim tavern at Skyhold still made Dorian's heart race with as much fear as pleasure, if not more.
The Iron Bull was helping him with that fear, and part of it was in acts like this, compromises between desire and willpower. Part of it was just in the silent moments they kept company, whether in bed or out of it. Silences as soft as down and just as warm, sweet little pauses in the world-saving business wherever they could steal a few seconds for themselves.
This was just such a silence, at least until Dorian recognized the storefront they'd stopped in front of, and his face drained of much of its rich brown color.
"Kadan?"
"...There's something I've been meaning to do," Dorian said grimly. Bull followed him inside, of course, but he'd rather expected that.
"Ah, Messere Pavus," Ponchard smiled toothily. "I take it you received my reply."
"If it's more money you want - "
"Oh no, I wish to deal in far more valuable currency. Influence. Specifically, influence the Inquisition can provide, after that debacle they called peace talks in the Winter Palace."
Dorian fumed silently, privately. He only sneered at Ponchard. "You really think the Inquisitor gives half a damn about that necklace?"
"He doesn't need to care about the necklace, does he? He needs to care about you. And rumor has it you've been out strolling with a strapping Qunari fellow."
Dorian blinked, and Bull stepped forward. Ponchard jumped a little, and Dorian allowed himself a small smirk. Finally Bull's talent for sneaking up on people wasn't being used on him.
"This necklace wouldn't happen to be an Altus' birthright, would it?" Bull asked neutrally, in an imitation of Adaar's cadence. They looked nothing alike, truly, but most people didn't know there were two Tal-Vashoth in the Inquisition.
"I paid Messere Pavus for it most handsomely," Ponchard sniffed.
"On the understanding that it was to be sold back to me," Dorian growled.
"Ah, but you never specified a currency," Ponchard smiled delightedly.
"So you're willfully misinterpreting a verbal contract in order to extort a favor. Not a very impressive gambit," Bull tsked. "About as compelling as a threat with falsified blackmail. But let's entertain the thought for a moment. What do you want, precisely, from the Inquisition?"
"Entry in the Celestine League," Ponchard said, eyes wide and eager behind his mask. "Noble-born merchants who have contacts among the upper classes - now that is currency I can truly use. The birthright is enough cachet for some basic deals with the nobility, albeit solely those with some ties to Tevinter, but to join the League is nearly as good as acquiring a title."
"I can handle my own affairs, thank you," Dorian said stiffly, with a reproachful look at Bull.
"This one's stubborn as a hungry qalaba," Bull shook his head a little. "It sounds like he needs Winter Palace diplomacy, in fact."
Dorian sighed. "I loathe being in debt."
"Hey now. If anything, this is a thank-you for that little magic trick you do with your tongue," Bull said, a smile stretching slowly across his face. "I don't know how I'm supposed to thank you for it next time, but I'm sure we'll work something out."
Dorian could feel his skin heat.
Bull swaggered closer, towering over Ponchard, who didn't have the sense to shutter his greedy expression.
"It's like this, little worm," Bull said, speaking slowly and simply because he didn't want to be misunderstood. "You can hand over the amulet now, and get your money back. Or you can hold on to your pale imitation of nobility until someone decides you don't deserve it. Do you honestly think you'll get away with this forever? Even if Dorian is too honorable to threaten you, I'm not. And his family will not be impressed with your petty machinations. Plus there's all the nobles who don't like an uppity commoner on their turf. Your advantage right now is in a tangible object you have to keep on your person if you want to employ its power. I'm astonished you haven't been mugged yet. But here's the best part, really.
"You obviously have no idea how Tevinter birthrights work. It's not a signet ring you can flash around and play seneschal with. This is Tevinter we're talking about, after all. You think that thing is just a necklace? That it's not covered in spells that can turn your dick inside out if you twitch wrong? Up until now, you've fulfilled your contract. Take my advice: take the money. Return the birthright. And stick with dealing with commoners and jumped up bastard-gentry. You're far too clumsy for the Game."
"You - you tricked me!" he glared at Dorian. "You said it was not spelled!"
"I said it was harmless. And it is, so long as you aren't betraying my interests or your contracts to me," Dorian said. "Just as a snake is harmless until it's hungry or cornered." He buffed his nails on his coat boredly.
Ponchard sputtered and cursed for several minutes, pacing the floor of the small shop irritably. Dorian and Bull remained silent, because they both knew Ponchard's own imagination would be the most effective persuasion he could receive.
"Fine," he spat. "The money, then."
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you what will happen if you attempt to keep or sell on the amulet despite being paid," Dorian said, setting neat stacks of coin down on Ponchard's countertop. "I regret that it had to come to this, I really do. I was hoping to meet a better class of businessmen, in the south." He sighed in disappointment. "I expect to receive my birthright within the month. You and I are both well aware of the speed and reliability of Skyhold's courier service."
He stalked out the door without another word, and Bull smirked at Ponchard before inclining his head a scant inch or two. The Iron Bull took his own leave immediately after, and found Dorian shaking with tears of laughter in an alley two shops down.
"Where in the world did you come up with such...incredible nonsense?" he gasped out. Bull pulled him into a kiss.
"There's a huge amount of speculation and debate on the nature of a Magister's birthright, at least among the Ben Hassrath. Those were some of the more...colorful theories, though I admit turning his cock inside out was inspired by a joke Sera made a while ago."
"Some contracts are enforced with blood magic, but the spells on a birthright are protective only," Dorian shrugged. "Nothing dramatic - improved healing and a ward that neutralizes most poisons are the standard fare; mine also carries a safeguard against blood magic. A little something I added after I left Tevinter."
"Well, Ponchard doesn't need to know that, does he?" Bull grinned.
They kissed again.