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Dorian could barely hold himself on his feet. His eyes welled up with tears. He wasn’t sure whether it was the drugs or the turmoil in within his mind and body as he stood between them.
He turned his head one way. “Father…” he pleaded, just leave. Just go.
Halward Pavus stood, steadfast, and regarded him with only his eyes, clearly hearing his words, but denied them. Distraught, Dorian whipped around.
“Alexius.” He growled darkly, his eyes filled with rage, silently demanding he back down.
“Dorian.” Alexius said. “You can barely stand. Step aside.”
“Why are you doing this?” It took all of Dorian’s strength to step assertively toward him. “You don’t need to be apart of this, just let me go.”
Alexius may have laughed under his breath, and shook his head as a sad smile stretched across his face. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“I’m serious!” Dorian insisted. “The Inquisition will have you executed for this!”
“Dorian.” Another, deeper voice, came from behind him, and Dorian cringed. “We can just walk away. Forget any of this happened.”
Alexius cut in before Dorian could speak. “On the contrary Lord Pavus, I would sooner knock him unconscious than let him leave with you.”
“Still in the habit of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Halward countered, with equal aggression. “The imperium was considering disowning you even before the Venatori.” He went on. “So many failures add up, you see.”
“If I recall the fine print, even most of your recent successes were by way of my son.”
Dorian turned to face him slowly, trying hard not to resent him for every word that came out of his mouth. His expression begging him to stop speaking but he had run out of energy to find his voice.
“Your son.” Alexius repeated the words, with a low, critical tone, and followed them with an inquisitive hum.
“Both of you, stop this.” Dorian barked, in one final attempted. He turned to Alexius, face warped with concern. “You’re not even armed! He has a staff, if this gets any more serious you’ll—.”
Dorian was cut off by his own surprise when a familiar and quite powerful staff was thrown within Alexius’s reach, and he caught it. Dorian knew it well, as well as its owner, and had never seen its duplicate. In the same instant, Dorian was whisked up into a pair of arms and transferred away from the field.
Alexius didn’t waste a moment. He speared the blade of the staff against the ground and felt its immense power course through him as a flickering wave of visibly green magic washed over him. It had been so long since he’d held one in his hand, but it was easily the most natural thing he knew.
Halward may have slightly panicked in drawing his staff, as Alexius’s sudden possession of one took him off guard. But Alexius did him the courtesy of waiting for him to gather himself.
Dorian was shaken by the sudden snatching of his body off the ground, and it took him a few moments of being carried across the yard to decipher exactly who had him. But the staff told that story well enough once he gathered himself, and the white hair confirmed it.
“What are you doing!” He struggled, both demanding to be put down and trying to see over Velelan’s shoulder. “Get your hands off of me!”
Velelan didn’t listen, and Dorian was only half-trying. Velelan brought him what he deemed to be far enough away, and set him down gently, kneeling next to him, and pushing his hair back out of his face. He was a mess, pale and shaking. His eyes looked wild.
“It’s okay, Dorian.” Velelan said, softly, and touched his face. “I won’t let him die.”
“Die? You gave him a staff!” Dorian shouted. “Do you recall your history? For all you know he’ll come after you.”
Velelan may have laughed, had the situation been less dire. “Alexius?” He said. “I wasn’t talking about Alexius.”
Dorian’s anger faltered, and his eyes moved to two shapes behind him, each from which a massive aura of power and rage was collecting.
Alexius stood upright, stern, and unwavering, one arm behind his back and the other holding the staff parallel to his being. Dorian recalled the manic, formless manner in which Alexius had fought against them in the alternate time frame one year ago. It was unorganized, untrained, and unconcerned with his life or his cause. This was different. He looked terrifying, like someone Dorian would not dare stand against.
His father held the staff sideways, holding out his free hand at his side. This stance too, was well-known and professional, but Dorian had seen it enough times to catch the faults. His first foot was too far forward, rendering his balance irregular. The staff was teetering ever so slightly in his fist, his grasp not completely solid.
“The Imperium fully expected the Inquisition to execute you, and they would have been right to.” Halward spoke. “I’d be happy to do their job for them.”
Alexius laughed, sportingly. “I’d relish to see you try.”
Not surprisingly, Halward was the first to make a move. Spinning the staff in one hand through the air in front of him, and catching it with the other, he shot a bolt of lightning straight at Alexius’s person. It was deflected with little effort.
Dorian shook his head. No. Was he even trying? Halward Pavus was officially regarded as a more powerful and more renowned magister than Gereon Alexius. But officially didn’t necessarily mean true, and it was showing.
Alexius begun moving toward him, and Halward’s immediate reaction was to set traps under his steps. But Dorian could see the enchantment he used to set them from clear across the yard, there was no way Alexius could have missed them.
He dispelled one as his foot would have come, as casually as waving a bee from his ear. He was closing in, and Dorian found himself trying to stand. Alexius often attempted for close-combat, while his father was more skilled at a distance. If that were the case, why was he allowing Alexius to move closer?
“Damn it.” Dorian struggled to his feet. “Stop this!” He shouted at Velelan, who was standing idly near him, arms hanging loosely at his sides. He turned to Dorian, just as Dorian lost his footing, and quickly moved to catch him.
“You shouldn’t try to stand.” Velelan insisted.
Dorian ignored him. “Alexius is unstable! You don’t know what he’s capable of.” He glared daggers into Velelan’s eyes. “You can’t expect me to—.”
A deafening explosion called both their attentions. A massive cloud of fire and smoke surrounded the area where Alexius once stood, and Halward had disappeared. He reappeared a moment later, and fired two bolts of electric energy into the mass of flame from each end of the staff. The sound they made implied impact, and both Dorian and Velelan stared in waiting.
Dorian saw it now. The traps that Halward set before were decoys, they were meant to be seen. A larger one had been concocted amidst their creation and between them, and was therefore less detectable.
He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. It was a rarely known and difficult to master trick, one that Halward had shared the mechanics for with Dorian when he was young. The magnitude of the explosion that a mage with Halward’s experience could mask was unlimited. Alexius could have been ash.
Halward stood still, as if waiting for the smoke to clear only to confirm his victory.
He had only just dropped his guard when the smoke and flame from the explosion began to whirl around a center point, and then exploded outward. It knocked Halward off his feet, and revealed Alexius just as he disarmed the protective barrier.
Alexius wasn’t so much as singed. He turned the staff over twice in his hand, and slammed one end against the ground.
Halward had made it to his feet in time to dodge the onslaught of fire that flew from the top of the staff by rolling to the side. But Dorian knew Halward was hardly trained in close combat, nor did he spend a lot of time training to fight in compromising positions.
When he stopped his roll on one knee, he was struck hard with a bolt of lightning from Alexius’s right hand. It knocked him off the ground and he stumbled backward, back on his feet but far from stabilized as Alexius hit him with a ball of electricity against his chest.
Halward lost his footing, and was falling back, but he was surprised as he was held up by a barrier that had appeared behind him. It wasn’t his barrier— his immediate thought was Dorian, but when he looked, he was still across the field. His eyes flicked back to Alexius, who had a devious smirk come over him.
“You’re not done already, are you?”
Halward scoffed, and pushed himself away from Alexius’s barrier. But he was still too close. If he was going to win this he had to reestablish distance.
Alexius saw it coming, he’d raised his hands. The moment he slid his foot sideways to fade step away, he clapped them together, and Halward may as well have been retreating in a stroll.
He approached Halward’s near-frozen state, titled his head at the way his eyes widened in realization of what had been done to him. Alexius raised one foot, placed it against Halward’s chest, and just as the time magic war off, kicked out, sending Halward flying backward toward the mountainside.
Alexius followed.
Halward gathered himself quickly, it was just a kick to the chest, he started to get up. He pressed one hand against the earth beneath him, only for it to sink into the ground. The earth tightened around his arm, bending it in the wrong direction and crushing down on it simultaneously. Alexius easily knocked his staff from his other hand with a bolt of electricity.
Halward’s now free hand went straight to trying to pull his captured arm from the ground as he cried out in agony. He could feel the bone threatening to break as Alexius held out one open hand.
It snapped when he closed his fist, and Halward screamed.
“No.” The word was spoken under Dorian’s breath, and Velelan just barely caught it before he was shoved away, hard enough to make him fall and Dorian had taken off toward them. Velelan caught up with him quickly, catching him mid-stumble, but unsure as to whether he should help Dorian toward them, or stop him again. Alexius was towering over Dorian’s father— and Velelan had promised not to let him die, but he didn’t know what was going to happen.
Halward struggled on the ground to heal his arm to be able to reach for his staff, but it had been planted by the earth, and even as the bone was mended he was unable to reach it.
Alexius loomed over the magister, watching him as he held one hand against the exposed upper half of his buried arm, which Alexius continued to break each time it mended by squeezing the earth every time the shards came together. Blood stained the grass around it, and he cried out in agony endlessly, repeatedly.
Finally, Alexius let his fist draw open, and his hand fall to his side. Halward’s desperate healing was able to endure and his agonized shouts calmed, and ended.
“Tell me…” Alexius began, calmly. “Why did you come?”
Halward scowled at him, and spat through clenched teeth. “I came for my son.” He said, venomously, his voice shaking with rage.
“Son.” Alexius shook his head, and spun his staff in his hand casually, and raised the blade above Halward’s forehead, aimed directly between his eyes.
“No!” Dorian shouted it this time, and this time when he pushed Velelan away from him, he knocked him down. He found his feet despite the drugs, and he was running toward them with everything he had.
“You have never known the meaning of the word.” Alexius said, shaking his head. Halward cried out, as the rock around his arm tightened once more, but did not break it again. “You’ve long since lost the right to call yourself a father.”
The blade came down, and Velelan watched Dorian come to an abrupt stop in shock, tripping over his own feet and falling backwards as he saw it fall. Velelan launched himself forward at the sight, and hurried to Dorian’s side as everything else froze.
Alexius sighed, heavily, as he turned the staff in his palm, drilling the blade deeper. He’d hit one knee over Halward’s body, and both hands had forced the blade down hard as it pierced its target.
“It’s a shame.” He said, almost in a whisper, and began to stand.
Halward shook.
Alexius removed the staff’s blade from the earth, and straightened himself. “Dorian will never see that.” He held it loosely at his side, looking down upon Halward Pavus, who lay in shock at the surprise of his own breath.
It came out in huffs, then heavily, and then he suddenly found the realization that he was alive. The side of his head stung, but the blade only grazed him. All he could do was stare, his mind racing, as Dorian hit his knees beside him.
“He’s…” Dorian’s eyes were wide with surprise. “…okay.” A long, breath of relief fled his lips, and a weight of fear fell from his shoulders.
Alexius, absently handed the staff off to Velelan, who took it slowly, and regarded him warily. But Alexius didn’t spare so much as a glance in his direction.
The rock crumbled away from Halward’s arm, and he was freed. He shook with pain and gritted his teeth as he lifted it against his chest, and sat up. Dorian picked up his father’s staff, looked at it for a moment, and then threw it over the edge of the overlook.
Holding his destroyed right arm, Halward breathed heavily. “Dorian.” He said. Dorian stared at him, and his eyes flicked to Alexius, who was slowly taking steps toward the coast.
Halward’s eyes were desperate. He was looking for something, some kind of confirmation or consolation. Desire to fulfill that need boiled up as kind words in Dorian’s throat, but he ignored them, and stood quickly.
“Go home, father.” He said, voice cracking, and moved to walk around him. His steps became clumsy, and Velelan, whose eyes were always on him, saw it, and rushed to catch him as he fell. Dorian said nothing as he let himself be held up, nothing as Velelan lifted his arm over his shoulder and helped him away.
“Dorian?” Halward’s voice was barely more than breath, and his brows furrowed. “Dorian!” He shouted, demandingly, as he climbed to his feet.
Alexius stood on the edge of the hill’s overlook hood down, hands linked behind his back. His eyes were closed and he breathed in deeply as the soft wind blew against his face.
“What about him?” Dorian asked.
Velelan considered. “Who?” He said, decidedly, and continued to walk in the direction of the camp.
o-o-o-o-o
Neither of them spoke during the trek back. Dorian was tired, and weak, and Velelan was nervous. He would take care of Dorian until his strength returned, but that was the extent of what he allowed himself to pledge. Anything more may have been unwelcome.
Sleep claimed both of them without so much as a single word exchanged, though Dorian was out first. Velelan stayed awake for a few hours longer, his mind racing with worry of House Pavus returning as it had been spared.
He did sleep, though, if only for a few hours. He woke up to Dorian packing his things, standing on his own and having little trouble moving about. He walked on his own the rest of the way, leaving an unnaturally large distance between them.
The bustle of returning to Skyhold was irritating. Dorian waved everyone off as they tried to greet or inquire on his wellbeing, but Velelan didn’t have that luxury. He watched Dorian walk away from him without so much as a glance over his shoulder, as one of Cullen’s lieutenants began bombarding him with questions.
Explaining what happened to Alexius was easier than he thought. He simply didn’t, and was hardly questioned on the matter. He knew he’d have to decide whether or not to send agents to bring him in, but that could wait.
He was exhausted by the time the evening rolled around, and he went to his quarters fully expecting to retire.
The last thing he expected was for Dorian to be there, standing silently on the balcony.
His eyes widened with hope that betrayed his resolve, but he didn’t push it away. He couldn’t.
“I told you I was leaving.” Dorian finally said.
Velelan opened his mouth to speak, but his breath merely cracked, and nothing came out.
Dorian turned on his heel, eyebrows furrowed. “Did you not believe me?” He demanded. “Or do you think little Dorian is not old enough to make decisions on his own?”
Velelan felt anger building up inside him, conflict with everything Dorian was saying. “They drugged you!” He’d blurted it out before he was able to stop himself.
“You didn’t know that.” Dorian said. “You let Alexius go free to chase after me, even though for all you knew I’d gone willingly!”
“I knew I couldn’t convince you.”
“Was what he did your idea of convincing?” Dorian barked, and Velelan had to look away. “Or did you really think he would just be all talk? Do you realize how stupid and reckless that was? I would have been fine!”
Velelan shook his head, harshly denying those words to the point that it was driving him mad. “You wouldn’t have.” He argued, voice cracking. “I don’t know everything, but I could see that much just in the way you acted.” He said. “You only wanted to go to avoid making any more trouble for the inquisition. Alexius knew more about your past than I did so—.”
“So you released a fugitive that only just recently destroyed the world by removing you from it!”
“I trusted him. His motives had changed.”
“Of course you did!” Dorian threw his hands in the air. “You’re like a child!” Frustrated, he crossed the room, and stopped in front of Velelan’s desk.
“I cannot believe you.” Dorian was still shaking. “You’re despicable, and a fool. Get out of my sight.” He kept his back turned, placed his hands on the edge of the desk leaning over it and staring down at the messy surface of it as his eyes began to well up. “I never want to see you again, do you hear me?”
Velelan’s heart beat heavy in his chest at the words, but he took a deep breath, and did his best to absorb the blow. He hadn’t done this for himself, any of it. He’d done it for Dorian. Whatever Dorian chose now was his decision, and Velelan would not stand in front of it.
“Do you mean that?” He asked, and his voice nor mind faltered. If Dorian walked away now, he would allow it. Now that it was his choice.
Moments passed, and Velelan’s heartbeat matched a war drum as he waited. And then, Dorian moved. He pushed himself hard off the desk, and Velelan fully expected him to storm out of the room.
But then he was kissing him.
His arms snaked around Velelan’s body and pulled him close, then closer, tighter, until he felt his feet lift the ground. Tears pricked at the corners of Velelan’s eyes. For all of his resolve, he’d lost it now. With Dorian’s mouth against his, there in his arms, hands in his hair. He’d never let him go.
Dorian pulled his mouth back slowly, but the closeness remained. His breath against Velelan’s lips, his eyes still shut gently as Velelan’s were sealed tight, waiting for it to be a dream. “You’re ridiculous.” He said. “And the adventure of a lifetime.” Dorian whispered, and it sent shivers down Velelan’s spine.
“I could never mean it.”
Velelan’s eyes snapped open and began to water as Dorian pulled his head against his shoulder and hugged him tight. Velelan could feel something wet against his hair and neck as well, and he knew Dorian was in a similar state.
“You’re still an idiot, though.” Dorian managed to say.
Velelan smiled against his shoulder. “But I’m your idiot.”