There were places that the Inquisition had to go. Places that were blacker than pitch, keeping secrets hidden by sheer weight of darkness. Here was one of those places. The Inquisiton had found a half-submerged cave in the Emerald Graves. The Inquisitor, Rorie Lavellan, had taken a very forceful lead into the dark, possibly driven by his Dalish connection to the place.

What they found, none of them was surprised to see. Another Fade rift and demons pouring forth from it. The sight was one that the Inquisiton had become very familiar with. Water splashed around their feet as the Inquisitor's companions lured the offenders away from the tear so Rorie could repair the Veil.

The magister, Dorian Pavus, kept a wary eye on the elf. The last time he had closed a tear with the Fade brand, it had taken much longer for him to come back to his usual self. Dorian fended off the demons, freezing them were they stood. Cassandra rammed into them, her blade shattering the monsters into a thousand icy pieces. The sight momentarily distracted him, watching the glitter of ice fall and reflect the light of the torches, sending wild spots of brightness spinning about in the dark.

A cry caught Dorian's attention and he spun on his heel to see Rorie crumpled in the water, sickly green light illuminating the cave. In a flash, Dorian was at his side, falling on his knees in the murky water. The liquid sloshed about, soaking through his robes and boots.

"Rorie!" he yelled, panic gripping his chest as he gathered the Inquisitor into his arms and hauling him to his feet. Rorie simply stood there, staring at nothing, eyes an unfamiliar yellow-green that overshadowed the deep emerald Dorian had become so enamored by. The same color was twined up his arm from the Fade brand, casting an ugly shade over the elf's face from below.

The light made his cheekbones sharp and taut, somehow making the hollow expression on his face even worse. The circles under his eyes were as prominent as inky fingerprints on blank vellum, smeared and imperfect.

Dorian shook the Inquisitor's shoulders, desperation clenching his stomach. His fingers dug into the leather of his coat. The fur-lined collar sagged with dark water. Without the soft material bolstering his presence, his frame seemed so small.

So fragile.

"Rorie," Dorian said, hands moving to cup his cheeks. "Rorie, please. Please, can you hear me? Rorie!"

Someone was saying something from behind him, but Dorian had tuned everything out, horribly focused on this shell of the man he had grown so fond of.

"Oh, no," he was sobbing, begging. "No, no, please. Maker, Creators, whoever is listening, don't take him."

A loud snort filled up the silence. Sera strutted forward, slinging her bow over her shoulder and adjusting her quiver. She seemed utterly unconcerned with the fact that the only person who could save Thedas was losing himself to the insanity that the brand had brought with it.

"Knock 'im out o' it," she sneered, pantomiming a slap and pointing to the Inquisitor, then shrugged when Dorian gave her an exasperated and pleading look. "Works on drunkards."

Dorian, clenching his teeth and taking a deep breath, released Rorie and took a step backwards, casting a glance to Sera who simply shrugged again.

"Here goes," he said, voice ragged. "Forgive me, darling."

He squeezed his eyes tight, not reveling in the act, and struck out at the Inquisitor. He stumbled from the force, but made no move to protect himself from further blows or any indication that he had even felt the pain.

Dorian crumpled to his knees, water splashing in his face. His eyes stung, tears cutting track marks down his cheeks as he stared into the water, seeing nothing. A hard lump formed in his throat that refused to go away. He felt useless. Even with all the power of a Tevinter magister at his fingertips, there was nothing he could do to protect the one he loved.

He was shaking, sending minute ripples across the shallow water.

"Mythal'enaste!"

Dorian's head shot up to see the Inquisitor reeling, hands pressed against the cheek he had struck.

"What in the name of the Creators happened?" he snarled, raging momentarily before seeing Dorian slouching in the muck. "What are you doing?"

Dorian's heart would have shot right out of his chest if his ribs weren't there to keep it caged. He bolted to his feet, smothering the elf into an embrace. His movement threw Rorie off his center and they fell into the water, soaking themselves to the bone.

Dorian laughed and cried, burying his face into Rorie's curly hair. Rorie struggled and protested, shouting about how elves didn't like water.

Never in Dorian's life was he so happy to hear Dalish curses and get shocked by magic.

Disclaimer: Rorie Lavellan is an OC that belongs to ryuichifoxe! All others (Dorian Pavus, Sera, Cassandra Pentaghast) belong to BioWare!

Mythal'enaste: a Dalish curse. Referenced from here: post/70209025851/a-guide-to-swearing-in-thedas