"Maker save me from you Southern chantry boys." Dorian shakes his head, rolling his eyes and not seeming like he minds being oggled all that much. "You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asks softly, stunned at the idea. He knew there was still a chantry further north, but the idea of them worshipping the same Maker Cullen does is difficult to grasp. "Don't you?"

Summary: read the tags. that’s it, that’s the story. Or: Dorian gets a tattoo of The Iron Bull's name on his arse. And is then tagged in a completely different way.