"Sound of the Unlocking"
ooo
The Emerald Graves were always beautiful. Yet as the name suggested, the fighting never stopped between the towering trees, leaving a pile of corpses dotting the forest floor.
Dorian watched Aeric flicker into obscurity as the battle against Venatori raged around him. While Dorian might only be teasing when he said that Aeric was good at killing things, it wasn't without cause. The twang of a bowstring's release echoed nearby, and a Venatori mage crumpled. When Aeric disappeared again, Dorian smiled, loosing a barrage of energy at a Red Templar. The elf was nothing if not efficient.
The battle was winding down now, Blackwall and Cole some distance away as they tag-teamed a final Venatori warrior. It had almost become a relaxing routine, this traveling throughout half of Thedas, killing random evil-doers and ne'er-do-wells. Made more pleasant with handsome company in his tent at camp every night.
A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye roused Dorian from his daydreaming. Two remaining Venatori left standing. But hadn't there been a third?
A rush of air was the only warning. A Red Templar Shadow appeared behind Dorian, red lyrium blades raised. Aeric materialized between them, catching the Shadow's blow against his bow. He pushed the Shadow back, but the templar recovered quickly. The two rogues grappled with each other, Aeric unable to put enough distance between them to draw an arrow.
Dorian, recovered from his surprise, shot a Mind Blast at the enemy, followed by a dose of lightning. The Shadow crumpled into a heap on the forest floor.
"Well, that was a bit close for comfort, wouldn't you say?" Dorian said brightly, turning to smile at Aeric.
The elf didn't return his smile. Not that he smiled often, but Dorian found he could often coax one out of him.
"Is everything all right?" the mage asked with a frown.
Aeric staggered. Dorian rushed to his side and caught him before he fell to the ground. A stream of bright red blood poured from a slice in his leather armor.
"Oh no…" Dorian breathed.
Even as he helped Aeric lie on the soft grass, his hands moved fast, pressing on the wound to stem the flow of blood. "A little help here!" he called out to the others.
Before Blackwall and Cole could even turn toward them, Dorian's hands were already aglow with green spirit magic. "I don't know if I can heal this," Dorian said. His voice shook. His voice never shook. "I'm not exactly good with living things, you know. Corpsified things, that's what I'm good at."
"Let's hope we don't get into familiar territory, then," Aeric grunted.
Dorian glared down at him. "Oh, fine time to find a sense of humor." He returned his attention to the wound crossing Aeric's stomach. Maker, this was no small wound. He's never had to heal anything this serious before.
Dorian heard footsteps beside him, signaling Blackwall and Cole's arrival. "Both of you, give me whatever potions you have. Blackwall, run to camp for help. Cole, you can assist me here."
The two of them emptied their pouches of small vials of red liquid. Blackwall gave only a short nod of assent before running back towards camp. Cole pulled the stopper out of one of the vials. "Ribbons of red, but he worries for you."
"Not now, Cole," Dorian replied absently. He took the open vial and lifted Aeric's head, helping him drink. Dorian took another from Cole and poured it over the wound. Aeric hissed in pain.
Dorian's hands took up the healing again. The potions seemed to help - not as deep, though still serious. "You damned fool," he muttered, weaving strands of green magic over Aeric's sliced abdomen. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking," Aeric said through gritted teeth, "that I didn't want my boyfriend stabbed to death."
Though he had heard Aeric call him his boyfriend before, Dorian felt his cheeks flush nonetheless. "And so you thought you'd get stabbed to death instead?" he snapped. "Brilliant! What a stunning plan by the great Inquisitor! Let's get cut up by some random nobody before we even have a chance to take down Corypheus!" He turned to Cole. "Keep giving his Worship potions. Maker forbid he think about his own health, when so much depends on him."
Cole frowned, raising Aeric's head to meet the vial he held in his hand. "You're a little mean when you're scared," he whispered.
Dorian's ears burned. "Kaffas! Stay out of my head."
Aeric swallowed down a large gulp of the potion. "It's all right, Cole. He doesn't mean it."
"Oh, I mean it," Dorian said. "You are a damned fool."
"Maybe, but you act like I'm more important than you."
Dorian gave a bark of a laugh. "Of course you are. Wave of your sparkly hand, and poof! Rifts close, demons fall, earth trembles." He sent tendrils of healing magic into the wound. Closer to closed now. "Me? A better-looking man, surely. But I'm not important in the grand scheme of things."
"You're important to me, ma'nehn." Aeric reached out and laid a hand on Dorian's knee. He smiled. "I love you."
Dorian lost his grip on the Fade, the spirit magic slipping away. He stared down at Aeric. "What… what did you say?" He'd heard him wrong. He must have.
"I love you, Dorian." When Dorian continued to stare openmouthed at him, Aeric's smile widened. "Speechless again?"
Maker, Dorian had to be as red as a beet now, his face burned so hot from blushing. "Smug bastard," he muttered, finding the spirit magic again. "Why would you tell me that now? If you bleed to death, I'm going to be so angry."
Aeric chuckled, making his abdomen twitch. He hissed with pain, even as he still shook with mirth.
"Stop laughing, you idiot!" Dorian scolded, though he began to smile despite himself. "You'll get forest all over your entrails."
Another round of laughter overtook Aeric, the richness and rarity of it easing the tension in Dorian's chest. And though it was infinitely harder to close the wound completely while aiming spirit magic at a moving target, Dorian began laughing himself, and then even Cole, until the Emerald Graves rang with life.
ooo
At camp that night, Dorian lay curled up against Aeric in the privacy of their tent. Dorian let his fingers run along the jagged new scar puckered across Aeric's stomach.
"I never thanked you for saving my life," Dorian said in a soft voice, kissing a spot just above Aeric's right ear.
"No, you didn't," Aeric agreed.
Dorian sighed. "Thank you, for saving my life, amatus."
"Thank you for saving mine, ma'nehn."
"You still haven't told me what that means," Dorian said. "I tried looking it up, but you'd be surprised how few elvish dictionaries there are in your library."
Aeric turned his head to look up at the mage, unsmiling, but with eyes twinkling. "I'll be sure to request one from my clan when I write my next letter." He reached up and gave an affectionate stroke against Dorian's mustache. "Why don't you ask Solas?"
Dorian scoffed. "That's cheating. You might as well tell me, then."
Aeric kissed him. "Dictionaries it is."
"Cheeky bugger." Dorian smiled.
They were silent for a while, taking comfort in one another's touch, as they often did after a day full of battle. Faint sounds of the camp drifted to them past the tent walls: soldiers on watch whispering to each other, Blackwall snoring, fires crackling.
Just as Dorian began to feel heavy with drowsiness, Aeric spoke up. "Dorian? I'm sorry I scared you today."
Dorian shrugged. "It happens. I should probably get used to it."
"Even still, I'm sorry." Aeric hesitated, looking up at Dorian.
"Something else?"
Aeric shifted to face Dorian fully, grimacing a little as he did so from pain. "I just wanted to say that I meant what I said in the forest today. I love you. But you don't need to say it in return, if you don't want to. I only wanted you to know."
Dorian smiled, not knowing what to say. He wasn't sure that what he felt for Aeric was love. He'd never been in love before. How was he to know? All he knew was that he cherished this frustrating, amazing elf, more than anything or anyone. He had never felt this way before. Was this love? He didn't want to say the words if he wasn't sure. "Thank you," he said, feeling that the words were insufficient. "It's not that I don't want to say it-"
Aeric shook his head. "You don't have to explain. As I said, I only wanted you to know."
Words were stupid. Dorian closed the distance between them, kissing him with the emotion he did not know how to express. As he ran his fingers through Aeric's hair, the elf caressed his back with long, gentle strokes. When their kissing and touches began to turn more heated, however, Aeric grunted. "Easy," he said. "I'm still on the mend."
"I know," Dorian replied. "I'm the one who did the mending." He paused and gave a dramatic sigh. "Very well. I suppose I'll just have to settle for sleeping, comfortable in the knowledge that you're not dead."
Aeric shifted on their bedrolls, turning around carefully. He nestled in, spooning up against Dorian. "How will you manage?" he said with a yawn.
Dorian answered with a yawn of his own. "I'm sure I'll muddle through somehow."
"Good night, ma'nehn."
"Sweet dreams, amatus."