A letter from home was never a joyful occasion. As the estranged scion of the noble house Pavus, with no intention of continuing the line beyond himself, the communications with his parents were strained at best. His mother's desperation for peace in the family made her vague and dithering, and his father's careful diplomacy only underlined the deep divide between them. He took all letters back to his room to read privately, just in case.

This one was much worse. Felix Alexius, his only friend, was dead, succumbing to the Blight that festered inside of him. The darkness struggled against the light and consumed it, as it always did. As it would continue to do. Even Felix's eternally cheerful demeanor would have crumbled in his last, painful days. Apparently he'd spoken eloquently to the crowds about the dangerous cult that was spreading throughout the Imperium, even while fighting his own pain. Dorain clenched the paper in his fist. The Magisterium must have been ecstatic that they hadn't needed to execute him themselves.

A flash in the corner of his eye startled him. Fire sprung to his hands instinctively, burning the letter to ashes. He barely had time to mourn it before a floppy hat materialized in his view. He relaxed a little. "Cole, you're not supposed to do that to people anymore."

"You loved someone who is dead," said Cole, perched on his table.

"Yes, I imagine we all have at this point. It's not a time in Thedas for the faint of heart."

"He was dead while he was alive. Dying inside you. He tried to be alive, but you never told him he could be."

Felix's face, pale and shadowed when they'd last spoken. "Some things are better off left inside one's own head. Political ramifications, friendships in the balance, you know how it is."

"Yes. Letting things out is sometimes wrong. I know that now. It's hard to see if a thing will hurt more inside or out."

He tried to laugh, but he felt his face twist into something ugly. "Yes, it's hard even for those of us who aren't spirits. But I suppose we all love people who are dying, don't we?"

"Who?"

"Well, ourselves. We'll all die someday. Except maybe you."

"It's not the same to wave at death across the room as it is to shake its hand. It's not the same to love a ghost who is not yourself."

He looked at Cole thoughtfully. "I can't argue with that. But there's also the Inquisitor. The mark on her hand is killing her slowly, and we all see it. But we love her anyway." He sighed. "I don't know why I feel so sorry for myself. She's the one under a death sentence, and we certainly never hear her complain about it."

"Yes I do," said Cole, surprised. "But I make her forget. I help."

Dorian stared at him. His eyes were simple, without guile, and Dorian shivered a little. "Promise me you won't cause me to forget this hurt, Cole. It needs to be remembered."

"Okay." A small silence. "Felix means happy. You made him fit his name."

"Is that something you see or just something I wish?"

"It's something he wished for you to see." Cole vanished.

A man of his reputation couldn't afford to be seen out of sorts. He spent the afternoon in his room reading. No one needed to know he read books of old Tevinter stories, the same copies he'd perused in late nights at the Alexius house. His eyes ran over the pages while he remembered Felix reading the words to him in cultured tones. He'd loved children's tales, said they were full of better magic than the Magisterium could ever dream of. Dorian had never agreed with him, but he'd loved to sit and be convinced. They'd never tired of the argument. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd fallen asleep on a couch in the small library to the sounds of an eagerly read bedtime story. Felix was the younger, but it was Dorian who felt like a child those days.

His heart contracted at each familiar line, but when he finished the books his eyes were dry. He went down to the hall for dinner every inch the impeccable Tevinter interloper. He looked over in surprise when Evelyn sat next to him. "Inquisitor! A rare honor indeed to have you join me. Can I assume that you've tired of the less sophisticated company you keep and have finally decided to allow me to whisk you away?"

She smiled. "I will never be a sophisticate. Though I have been wondering how many forks you use at a meal in Tevinter. The last diplomat they sent seemed outraged we had only one set of cutlery at his plate."

"Yes, we do like to complicate things. I'm surprised dear Josephine doesn't know."

"I'm sure she does, but she's in Val Royeaux dealing with some family business. We muddled through, I guess. I should have consulted you."

"You should consult me in everything! But in this case it mattered little as long as you were at the table. In the Imperium, the answer as to how to act is always: act the same as the most important person there." He gave her a slight bow. "That's you, now."

"I like it. I'm going to start eating with my hands at all state meals," she said.

"Excellent. Don't tell Josephine I was involved. She's rather cutting."

They ate in silence for a while until she asked hesitantly, "So how are you doing?"

"Me? I'm delightful and handsome, as usual." He looked at her curiously. "Unless you know otherwise?"

"I may have heard you got a letter with bad news."

He scowled. "Cole told you?"

"No," she said, puzzled. "Why would he tell me?" He saw her glance across the room to another table. His gaze took in Cullen and Leliana talking quietly. Evelyn was no Wicked Grace player.

"Ah. Our dear Nightingale does so love to learn our business."

"She was concerned for you."

"My friend died. Felix. You met him. The last decent man in the Imperium, and I include myself." He shrugged. "It's not pleasant to lose a friend, but in truth I hadn't seen him in years until he got in touch with me about Redcliffe. It's not as though he was a large part of my life." His stomach clenched, but he pushed it away.

Evelyn toyed with her food. "Some parts get bigger the less you see them." He didn't answer. "I know you said you weren't involved, but it sounds like you cared a lot about him."

He jerked back, stung. "I would never have seduced the son of my mentor. Do you think me as crass as all that?"

"You don't have to seduce someone to love them," she said. Her eyes strayed again to Cullen.

Memories rose, unbidden. A hand that led him gently back to his room after another late night. A quick, fumbling kiss in the dark. He placed his napkin over his dish and pushed back from the table. "When I want someone, Inquisitor, they are well aware of it. Not all of us are as spineless as you." Her eyes showed hurt, but he ignored it. He swept out of the room feeling very small.

Later that evening a knock came at his door. He considered it for a moment, then dropped his bottle to the ground and got up to answer. One tantrum for the day was probably enough. He'd expected Vivienne, or even Cullen with a chess board, but of course it was Evelyn. She pushed her way into the room without a word, but when he spun around her face wasn't angry. "I'm sorry for prying," she said. "I was trying to help, but that's no excuse for pushing you."

He thawed a little. "I understand. It's just…" He sighed. "Felix was important to me. He didn't know, not really, and now he's past knowing. It's not easy."

"He probably did. I know you think you're some kind of master of deception, but you're not that hard to read." He gave her a mock glare and she smiled. "And you're better at friendship than you give yourself credit for."

"I think I amply demonstrated I am no such thing not two hours ago. I apologize deeply for what I said at dinner. It was not only uncivilized but completely false."

She colored. "It's okay. I needed to hear it. I'm going to do something about that soon."

"Good. Life is short," he said. His voiced hitched, and she placed her hand on his arm. He closed his eyes. "Felix and I weren't involved in a traditional sense. He was young. He didn't know what he wanted, but he did like trouble. I am generally a reliable source for trouble both in and out of the Imperium, so we were a natural fit. He… approached me once. I turned him away, with some difficulty. As Alexius and I had already been disagreeing on his research, I left the house shortly after."

He swallowed, hard. "If I'd stayed, I would have accompanied Felix and his mother on their trip when they were attacked by the darkspawn. They might not have died."

"Or you might have with them," she said. He tipped his head in acknowledgment. "I'm glad you're here. I'd miss you if you weren't."

He smiled and took her hand. He kissed it softly. "You can't miss what you never knew."

She gave him a look that understood far too much. "We both know that's not true." She pulled him toward the door. "Come with me."

He allowed himself to be dragged. "If you're taking me to drink, I must warn you I've gotten a head start."

She didn't answer, just tugged him forward.

They ended up in a dark corner of Skyhold. Well, usually dark. Now there was a small fire, surrounded by several figures. He blinked in surprise. Varric, Cole, Leliana, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Solas, Cassandra and Cullen all sat on low benches, talking to each other. Evelyn settled him on the empty bench that completed the circle. He cocked an eyebrow at them, though they probably couldn't see it in the firelight. "This is an interesting assortment. What are we doing here?"

"We're having a memorial," said Varric. He passed Dorian a bottle. "This one is for you."

He glanced at Evelyn. She shrugged, but Cole answered the question he hadn't asked. "You want to remember. You worry he'll slip away if you're the only one who holds him. But many hands can hold one soul in them and make it bigger. I told her we could."

Iron Bull cleared his throat. "The Qunari have a ritual we perform, when a warrior with honor dies far away from us. We gather in a circle and those who knew him answer questions about him from the others until we all understand him as well as the ones who miss him most. It helps keep us alive to each other when we fall and binds together the people who are left, the ones who share the memories. Plus we get really drunk."

Dorian shot the hulking figure a sardonic look. "Is any of that true? Qunari don't seem like a sentimental bunch, Bull."

"Do you want it to be true?"

"I suppose I do."

"Then it is. Start drinking."

Evelyn squeezed his hand. He took a pull off the bottle and noted appreciatively it was good Tevinter stock. He squeezed back and decided to make some amends. "Commander, I'm surprised you're here. I thought you supervised the early training every morning."

"I do, but Evelyn told us that you'd need your friends tonight. And it's always worth lost sleep to remember a brave man."

"Yes, our dear Inquisitor is quite irresistible when she puts her mind to it, isn't she?" Her nails dug into him, but he smiled mildly at her. Cullen mumbled something across the fire, then suggested someone ask a question in a louder voice.

Cassandra started. "What was the quality that made him most a friend?"

"He accepted everything about people. Situations, policies, choices, those he would fight, but who you were was never a problem for Felix. It's hard not to like someone who never judges you. He would have liked the Inquisition."

Blackwall's rough voice came next. "And what made him dangerous to his enemies?"

"That he would so quickly turn them into friends. If they weren't careful, they'd find their minds completely changed without even knowing it. A mage he knew when he was young tormented him for a week. Because she liked him, because he was so outspoken, he never knew, but by the end of that week with barely any effort he'd transformed her into a lifelong friend. That sort of power is dangerous." He looked at the fire. "The Venatori are very lucky he's gone."

"Was he hot?" said Iron Bull. Cassandra slapped him. "What? It's important! I didn't get to meet the guy since the boss wouldn't take me along."

Evelyn sounded irritated. "I'm not exactly Josephine, but taking a Qunari to meet a bunch of Tevinter mages seemed like a diplomatic misstep."

"That's exactly why I should have gone! Shown them you don't care."

She started to reply when Leliana cut in. "Perhaps another time, yes?" They subsided and muttered apologies.

Dorian laughed a little. "Yes, Bull, he was very attractive. With his house connections, he had half of the Imperium's daughters at his doorstep, and the other half jockeying for position. They were in negotiations with one of the most distinguished families before the ambush happened. Felix wasn't looking forward to marriage, though. Said it would interfere with any fun he could have."

"Sounds like another Vint I would have liked. Damn, that's three. I should just join the Imperium now, save myself the embarrassment when my bosses catch wind of it," said Bull.

Solas leaned forward a little. "How did he feel about magic?"

"He loved magic. Or the idea of it, anyway. In practice, it was all a bit mundane, but he never stopped searching for grand spells. Not even necessarily useful ones, but ones that were beautiful and audacious. There was nothing he wouldn't try if he thought it would be spectacular. A bit like his father in that way, I expect, although he would have never hurt anyone." He paused. "Once he came in on me working on a bit of magical theory with respect to crystallization and how it might be used to preserve food across long distances with less effort. He took a few looks at it and exclaimed 'This would make perfect decorations for my mother's room, if we only twisted the spells a little!' Of course, by a little, he meant to an absurd degree, but he cajoled me into it as always.

"When his mother got home she found a room full of perfect crystal sculptures that would last for years without melting. She wept in profound gratitude, very uncomfortable for me, but when she wandered around the room to examine them, Felix smiled at me. 'See?' he said. 'Magic should be beautiful whenever possible. It's so much more alive.' I have to admit I never quite grasped the concept of that." And to his horror, Dorian found himself crying. The statues probably still existed in the empty house that he would never see again.

The group sat silently while he wept. It was mercifully brief, and he took another drink to calm himself down. Varric spoke first. "So this kid sounds like he got himself into a lot of trouble he charmed his way out of. That's right up my alley. What's the most memorable?"

Dorian sniffed and wiped his eyes. He grinned wolfishly. "Oh, that's a good one."

He sat around the fire until late in the night telling stories as they asked him questions. He remembered his friend and lightened his regrets, just a little. As he went back to his room, wondering if he could recreate the crystallization spell on his own, Cole appeared next to him. "He thought your friendship was the most beautiful magic you had. He thought that in Redcliffe, when he saw you. He wished he'd been better at it, for you. And he was glad to know you shared it with someone again."

More tears, then, but not as painful. "Yes, that sounds like something he would think. I'm not sure he was right."

"He wasn't your last friend. Just your first. Evelyn will yell at you in the morning about Cullen to make you happy. Felix would like that."

He pushed open his door. "I expect you're right, Cole. I look forward to it." He slept that night with his hand curled around an old book, a small smile on his face as he dreamed of his friends.