'Tis the Season (Dorian Pavus)

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'Tis the Season (Dorian Pavus)
Date of Cutscene: 24 December 1960
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: All this Christmas nonsense has Dorian feeling sentimental enough to do something stupid.
Cast of Characters: 774


        All the Earthly Elites are going on about this "Christmas" drivel. And it's spread to the non-Earthly ones, too. They're going on about love, and happiness, and family. At some point Dorian realizes... he has no real family anymore, does he? Did he ever? Not really. He had a man who fathered him and a woman who birthed him. That's not the same as an actual father and mother.

        Still. Maybe they did love him, in their own way. And maybe he should let them know he hasn't fallen off the face of Thedas, or been captured by Qunari pirates and made into someone's lip-sewn magical slave. Maybe there's something to all this talk of family and togetherness.

        Or perhaps I'm going insane, one of the two.

        Nonetheless, Dorian locates a piece of paper and a pen. The invention of those pens that don't need to be dipped or filled is miraculous to him, such a convenience! So it's one of these that he uses to write on the parchment. Yes, he prefers parchment paper still. He hasn't quite gotten used to the feel of modern paper. But, after a moment of thought, he puts pen to paper and begins to write. Oh he's so glad these pallpoint pens don't leak!

        Anyway.

        By the time he's about a quarter of the way through the missive, he's beginning to think that maybe he should have invested in one of those charcoal pencils that makes the marks that can be erased by the little pink thing on the end. But oh well.

        It takes far too many hours, and more pieces of paper than he'd like to admit, to get his thoughts to paper. But once it's done, he finally has a letter written. He sits back to admire his handiwork...



To My Father and Mother,

I realize I've not sent much of any correspondence to you since I left. Perhaps I've been in error in this. But due to the circumstances of my leaving, I thought it was the best choice, that it would be less painful this way. However, I have heard of the observance of a holiday out beyond that strange rift that has made me reconsider. I mean the big, stable rift in the round archway, not those horrible demon-spitting rifts that spawn all over Ferelden, or the Breach.

The holiday in question is, as far as I can gather, the celebration of the mortal son of a deity worshipped by a particular religion. Imagine if Andraste bore the Maker a child before she died, and Thedas were to celebrate this child's birth. It's a similar concept. Gifts are normally exchanged; perhaps this represents the generosity of the three "Wise Men" who presented gifts to this god-child.

This holiday directs that it should be spent with one's family. Or, if one can't be with his family, that he should at least think of them. Accordingly, I've thought of you. I hope you are both well, and that the sudden insanity of Thedas-- both natural and supernatural-- has not affected you too badly.

I won't lie. I hesitate here. When I began this letter, I thought I would have a thousand things to say, but I truly don't know what further to write. I won't apologize for leaving, nor will I promise to return. You both doubtless know my reasons for leaving by now, so I won't repeat them. I know you don't agree, those reasons are important to me.

Father, you always taught me that principle is important. That is why I do not return-- principle. It seems a poor excuse to be rebellious, I know. But if I don't fight for my beliefs, who will? If I don't stand by those beliefs, what kind of man am I?"

I close now with best wishes for you both, and-- as they say beyond the warpgate, "Merry Christmas". Please take care of yourselves.

Your Son,
Dorian



        Dorian eyes the letter critically. At least he didn't get mushy or insulting. It's a very short letter comparatively, and that makes him curls a lip in a sneer at his own terseness. But it was true... what else could he say? With a sigh, he folds the letter up and places it in an envelope. It too is archaic, and old envelope that must be closed with a blot of red wax and a stamp with the seal of House Pavus. Hopefully there's a courier service that can get the letter to his parents and not cause any chaos in Thedas. The place has enough to deal with.