Dorian and the others had made it to the Chantry escape tunnel by the time they heard the mountain collapsing behind them. Dorian turned his head startled. They had not managed to fire the trebuchet before the Archdemon had descended upon them, so who had fulfilled their task for them?
"Where's Lavellan?" Solas' alarmed voice spoke from beside him.
Dorian's eyes scanned the group to notice that indeed the Herald was nowhere to be seen. "He was right behind us! He told us to keep running! Don't tell me he stayed behind to finish the job?!"
Dorian's feet instinctively began to move towards the exit to the tunnel. Abandoning a comrade in arms was not something he intended on doing. Even if he had not done so intentionally. However he was stopped by Blackwall's hand on his arm.
"Dorian don't be a fool. The mountain is collapsing. If we go out there right now we're as good as dead." Blackwall spoke fiercely. Dorian could tell that he was furious with himself for not noticing that Lavellan had remained behind. Blackwall was loyal to a fault and would have gladly stayed behind to fight at the Herald's side.
"He told us to keep going because he wanted us alive. The best thing we can do now is catch up to the others and make sure that we don't waste the time he has given us."
Solas nodded in agreement with Blackwall's words but Dorian noticed that he could not help but glance back at the exit to the ruins that would now be Haven, his face laced with sorrow.
It did not take long for the three of them to catch up with the evacuated refugees. Blackwall quickly separated from the party to help an old woman who was struggling through the snow. Solas went ahead to speak with Cassandra and Cullen who were noticeably looking for the missing Lavellan.
Dorian paused, unsure of what to do. He felt out of place, having only recently joined the group. Out of everyone the only one he had spent an extended out of time with was Lavellan.
And now he's dead. Dorian reminded himself grimly.
The elf had died alone, to protect a following that insisted he was the herald of a god that Lavellan himself didn't even believe in. These actions spoke of a nobility of character that made Dorian sad that he hadn't had more time to get to know the elf.
The refugees continued their trek, pausing only for a brief respite, until they finally made camp deep in the folds of the snowy mountain. Cassandra and Cullen left again not long after to find any stragglers and ensure their safe arrival to the camp.
Dorian found himself spending the hours that passed assisting the families in setting up their tents and keeping warm fires burning for the refugees. It spoke volumes of how desperate the situation was that people did not even pause to scorn the heretic Tevinter mage but rather quietly accepted his assistance. Morale was low, and the absence of their herald did not go unnoticed.
He was adding kindling to the main camp fire when he noticed Cassandra and Cullen returning, supporting a body between them. Most likely one of the refugees had been separated in the blizzard. As they came closer however, Dorian's eyes widened in recognition.
It can't be.
But it was. Those white locks, the pointy ears, the slightly sun-tanned skin, the pale tattoos winding their way around his facial features. There was no one else it could possibly be. The firewood fell from Dorian's arms, hitting the floor with a clatter as Cassandra began shouting for Solas.
Cullen was gently setting Lavellan onto one of the sick beds when Dorian reached them.
"What….how?" he stuttered as Solas quickly pushed him out of the way to examine the body.
"How is he Solas?" Cassandra asked ignoring Dorian's question in favor of hearing the prognosis on Lavellan.
"He has several broken ribs, a sprained ankle, a broken arm, and the onset of frostbite in several areas. That's not even including all the cuts and bruises. In all honesty I'm surprised he was able to drag himself all this way with his body in that condition. I'm going to need help with this. Is there another healer in the camp that we can spare?"
"I'll make sure I find one" Cassandra said running off.
"Dorian if you're just going to stand there make yourself useful. I need blankets and warm water and bandages. NOW." Solas was in full medical mode and normally Dorian wouldn't have taken an order from a near stranger so easily but this wasn't a normal circumstance and Dorian was partly to blame for the state of the body that was lying on that bed so he nodded and ran off to help as he could.
The next few hours were nerve-wracking for the entire camp as they waited for word from Solas. Dorian distracted himself by seeing how many tiny pebbles he could bounce off Blackwall's armor before the man snapped and tried to smack Dorian with the hilt of his sword.
"Now is NOT the time, Dorian" Blackwall growled.
"So much pent up stress is unhealthy. I'm just helping you properly express your emotions – oh no don't you dare – not the hair you imbecile." Dorian quickly retreated from what was becoming a decidedly dangerous situation. Unfortunately once again he found himself alone with nothing but his thoughts.
He couldn't get the image out of his mind. The slender frame of Lavellan, broken and battered, being carried into the camp. Somehow he'd managed to drag that body all the way out here, miles into the Frostback Mountains in the middle of a blizzard.
And what did we do? We gave up and wrote him off as dead. What if he hadn't been able to make it this far? He could've survived the battle and died simply from exposure because we didn't even think to go back and check.
"Hey, Sparkler. You furrow your brows anymore and you'll be living with a unibrow. "
"Ah, Varric. I was just lamenting the loss of my shirt. These bloodstains are never going to come out. A shame, I rather liked this one." Dorian replied without missing a beat.
"Well if our Herald makes it through this I'm sure he'll get you a bear pelt to make up for it."
"A bear pelt? Heavens no Varric. How could anyone see this glorious figure under all that fur? I have a duty to the people of Thedas. Covering myself in a bear cloak would be depriving people of this perfection" Dorian quipped gesturing at his body as he did so.
Varric rolled his eyes in response. "Let's not get ahead of oursel—" his sentence cut off abruptly as something behind Dorian caught his eye.
Curious, Dorian turned around to see that for the first time in hours Solas had straightened up from his task of administering to Lavellan. He looked exhausted. Solas had been by the Herald's side in the fight for Haven, and then again in their last ditch effort to save the refugees. They had then trekked through the blizzard and for the last three hours he had been using his magical energy continuously to heal Lavellan. Understandably the elf looked drained.
As Solas came to rest by the fire, Mother Giselle quickly made sure that he was provided with a decent meal from their provisions. He gave her an appreciative nod and turned to face the rest of their companions that had gathered around him.
"How is he?" Cullen was the first to speak.
"It could have been a lot worse but he will be fine. He just needs to sleep now." Solas smiled weakly.
His words were met with a collective sigh of relief. Lavellan was the only one who could close the rifts. Even with the breach closed there were still so many areas in which the veil had torn and demons were piling through. But more than that, somehow or another all of them had come to rely on Lavellan as both a leader and a friend. The small elf had carried them this far through impossible odds and Dorian wouldn't have been surprised if there were a few among their number that were starting to believe that Lavellan really was the Herald of Andraste.
With Lavellan safely on his way to recovery, the others were finally able to turn their focus elsewhere. The relative safety of their position in the Frostback Mountains coupled with the return of their Herald had completely reversed the entire morale of the camp. In spite of their losses, a light had been lit in the darkness, and hope was an emotion that was capable of sustaining people even through the darkest of times.
Leliana, Cullen, Josephine and Cassandra were gathered together in the center of the camp, not too far from where Lavellan was resting, trying to decide how to proceed from their current situation. However with the clear lack of a leader, their discussion had dissolved into loud bickering. Solas had long since retreated from the main group to recuperate, having exhausted himself both physically and magically. He'd gone off to one of the tents on the edge of camp to rest, saying that if he had to listen to the sound of humans bickering like children any longer he would set the camp on fire himself.
Time passed like this, and hours later the three advisors and Cassandra were still at it. Dorian and the others had long since stopped paying them any attention as it was clear that the four of them were making no headway on the matter. Glancing over to the side, Dorian was surprised to see that Lavellan was not only awake and talking to Mother Giselle. He looked no worse for the wear considering the condition his body had been in mere hours ago. Dorian walked towards them, unsure of whether or not to disturb their conversation. As he stood there debating, whatever conversation they were having became more heated. Lavellan raised his voice and Dorian was able to hear from where he was standing.
"I didn't feel any divine help back in Haven and I certainly don't now. If there's a Maker out there he certainly hasn't helped me any. For now at least, it looks like I'm on my own."
Mother Giselle's response was too quiet for him to hear and whether or not Lavellan was satisfied with the response, the elf stood up and walked a distance away seemingly lost in thought. Mother Giselle stood soon after and began to sing.
Shadows fall
And hope has fled
Steel your heart
The dawn will come
The night is long
And the path is dark
Look to the sky
For one day soon
The dawn will come
The low melodic voice of Mother Giselle carried throughout the camp and heads turned entranced. As she began the second verse, Leliana's voice joined in harmony.
The shepherd's lost
And his home is far
Keep to the stars
The dawn will come
The night is long
And the path is dark
Look to the sky
For one day soon
The dawn will come
By the time the second chorus had come to a close, the entire camp had joined the chant. Dorian even spotted the Knight-Commander Cullen singing with the others. To Dorian the song sounded like hope. With each new verse they sung the voices of Haven's survivors grew stronger and more confident. The song became the equivalent of a prayer or a confirmation of supplication, faith that their maker would see them out of this hardship. Conviction that the Dalish elf standing before them was indeed a sign that Andraste had not abandoned them to their fates. That they could yet still be redeemed.
In the middle of everything stood Asher Lavellan, transfixed, wondrous, and as the people around him took to the knee before him, a trifle horrified. It was no wonder that he felt that way. The refugees of Haven looked to the elf as a miracle, a sign of divine guidance. How daunting it must be to feel obligated to live up to such expectations when Lavellan himself believed that he was alone in his task.
Dorian shivered at the thought. He did not envy the elf for a moment.