The faint morning light streamed through the stained glass, it's glow creeping nearer to the Inquisitor's face as the dawn encroached; rousing weary eyed townsfolk from their beds in Skyhold below, the gleam of each candle in every window illuminating the murky first light.

The Inquisitor stirred, fighting the nudge of consciousness that roused him awake. 'I was rather enjoying that dream.' He thought to himself before he gave a tired yawn, the noise echoing slightly against the walls of the large stone room and sat on the edge of the bed, the springs of the mattress giving a defiant grumble at the change in pressure. His eyes felt heavy, still weary with sleep, so he lifted his hand to rub the sand from them, except he didn't have one, in it's place a rather sad-looking stump.

He had forgotten again; his rather vivid dream about fierce battles with high dragons, Venatori spellcasters and questionable tactics had omitted the fact that he had recently lost the green, glowing anchor and the arm that was attached to it. His heart instantly sunk, the overwhelming feeling of sadness erupting within him that brought tears to his eyes, hastily wiping them away with his remaining hand.

Every morning started like this. It had been six weeks since they took his arm, six weeks of fake smiles and bogus facades; telling his closest friends he was alright. He wasn't, but after everything they had been through, he didn't want to worry them. Varric was back in Kirkwall taking on his duties as Viscount, most probably submerged in paperwork. It was expected that he would be far to busy to attend to a dejected companion, or so Lucian had himself believe.

Leliana, Cullen, Cassandra and Josephine were tying up the Inquisition's loose ends; not without first getting it approved by the Inquisitor of course, but he felt the sorrow in their eyes as they looked at him in meetings in the war room, making him feel like a burden. He had been to less and less meetings in the past few weeks, preferring to keep his own company in his quarters or to sneak off to the lower study, pouring over endless tomes of great battles in Inquisition history.

He gave his head a rough shake as though to rid the sleep from it and begrudgingly stood, making an attempt to get dressed. The pantalons were a little harder to get on with one hand; they just required a little more manoeuvring. His tunic, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. After half an hour of wrestling with, cursing at and almost ripping off the small metal fasteners: he gave up and went in search of a servant to assist him.

He was just at the ancient wooden door of his secret hideaway, having managed to slip past guards, guests and his advisors. He knew they would try and get him to do some easy task that would require him to collect a message or whatnot just to get him out of Skyhold like their previous attempts, so he does his best to avoid them. Leliana feigns ignorance to his ploy, claiming she doesn't know where he goes day-to-day, but she knows that he was going through a difficult time and gives him his space to work it out.

His sending crystal gleamed under his tunic, alerting him that Dorian was on the other side.

"Amatus?" He heard the familiar voice call out, making his heart soar with just one word.

"Dorian, I'm here." He replied, closing the large wooden door of his secret study, the dull thud of the old timber echoing in the empty corridor outside, locking it in place as to not be disturbed.

"It's so good to hear your voice." The mage said and gave a sigh of relief. "Oh, have I missed you so Lucian."

"I've missed you too." The Inquisitor replied, fighting a tear from spilling down his cheek.

He hadn't spoken to Dorian in weeks; the Magister having been tied up in Tevinter business. He was so driven to change the old ways that Lucian didn't want to get in his way or to distract him; he really was making progress.

"When I didn't hear from you, I thought you were upset with me." Dorian stated.

A pang of guilt rang through the Inquisitor at the other's words. He wasn't upset, in that way, he just thought he would be too busy to speak with him, electing to wait until the mage contacted him.

"How could I be upset with such a charming, good looking magister such as yourself?" He asked his love, emphasising the title which he knew Dorian liked in an attempt to get off the subject.

"I know it'd be difficult to be angry with such a perfect specimen like myself." Dorian joked.

"Oh, but I try my best." the blonde Inquisitor replied, a small, almost foreign chuckle escaping him.
Dorian laughed in reply before he cleared his throat.

"But truthfully, are you ok?" The mage asked him, his tone mixed with sincerity and concern.

His heart thundered against his chest in a panic, threatening to rip from him.

"I-I..." He stuttered, finding it hard to speak. He wanted to tell him he wasn't ok, wanted to tell Dorian to drop all his responsibilities and come to him to soothe the ache in his head and his heart, wanted him to alleviate all of his sorrows with a loving embrace and a tender kiss. He couldn't find the words to tell him a thing. He was speachless.
"I'm absolutely fine, Dorian." He lied as he found the words, a fake jovial tone in his voice. "Please don't worry about me, you have enough on your plate." He added.

He could almost hear Dorian's eyes rolling on the other side as he spoke.

"You're good at a vast majority of things, Amatus, especially the thing you do with your tongue that I quite enjoy. One thing you can't do however, is lie." The raven haired mage stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

The Inquisitor's heart attempted to make a break for it again as it pounded within his chest, feeling it hard to take a breath as he stood their, panicking. He couldn't tell the love of his life to pack up his things and drop the important improvements he's making in the Tevinter judiciary system, something he cares deeply for, just to come and babysit an ex-Inquisitor who seemingly can't do anything for himself.

"You don't have to lie to me, Lucian." Dorian reassured him, the tone of his voice softening, stilling the blonde's unruly emotions. "It's ok to not be ok, just say the word and I'll be there." He added.

"I couldn't do that to you." Lucian replied. "If you leave now, all that hard work you've done will unravel itself and you'll be back to square one." He explained.

Dorian gave a disheartened sigh, knowing the Inquisitor was right. "Doesn't stop the fact that I feel extremely guilty for not being there. I miss you, Amatus."

Lucian's eyes began welling up at Dorian's words, unable to stop the tears from falling, cascading down his cheeks and staining his face red.

"I miss you too." He replied, the sorrow etched into every word and Dorian felt it.

A babble of many different voices erupted behind the mage, sounding busy.

"I can't believe I'm going to do this..." The Magister's voice slightly muffled from the noise.

"You're busy, I understand." Lucian stated. "Go and save the world." He told him, a genuine smile on his face, one of pride.

"I love you!" Dorian replied, his voice a little louder so that the blonde could hear over the rabble.

The Inquisitor brought the small, glowing crystal close to his lips. "I love you too." He whispered before kissing the cool glass gently.

He didn't hear a reply if there was one. He simply moved to the archaic desk in the middle of the room, it's wood crumbling slightly with age as he gently took the crystal from his neck. He pulled the top drawer open, the wood giving a rebellious wail as it scraped against itself and placed the small glass necklace inside, shutting it away.

He didn't hear a reply if there was one. He simply moved to the archaic desk in the middle of the room, it's wood crumbling slightly with age as he gently took the crystal from his neck. He pulled the top drawer open, the wood giving a rebellious wail as it scraped against itself and placed the small glass necklace inside, shutting it away.

It was like Lucian was in a trance. He walked the vast corridor's of Skyhold deaf and blind to the world except hearing the soft clap of his boots against the flagstones with each step. Friends and strangers made attempts to speak to him, trying to rouse him from his daze, but he carried on walking.

The air of the frostback mountains was cold and harsh on the east side of the balcony of his quarters. He felt the ice cold wind clip his skin as he stood, heard it's shriek in the sky as it whirled past his ears, saw his breath condense before him as he shivered in the raw air. Everything looked still, almost peaceful from up there and he could see the mountains stretch for miles, their vast peaks disappearing above the clouds, hiding from the world. He stepped on top of the balcony, looking directly down at the dark abyss below and unthinking, he jumped.