Dorian gasped as he felt himself being hurled. He didn't know where he was being hurled, but he could feel himself being moved violently. He could see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing but the motion. Then a stone, cold floor came up to meet him. He lay on the stone floor, groaning in pain, as agony blossomed outward from his jaw. He rolled onto his back, clutching his ribs and coughing. The impact had been horrible. He heard a grunt beside him.

"Are you alright?" Dorian closed his eyes. He had started to get very used to that deep voice lately.

"Could be better, Herald." He opened his eyes and saw Faolan standing over him offering him a hand. The Herald heaved the mage up onto his feet.

"Where are we?" the elf asked. Dorian grimaced in pain and looked around him. A dark stone dungeon, with red crystaline growths seeping out of the walls. He stared at the red lyrium, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew where they were.

"He sent us into the future." The Herald whipped his head around, his braid flying.

"What." he said in a dead tone. He looked panicked and furious. Dorian shrugged. "Well how do we get out of here? How do we go back?"

Dorian took stock, looking around the room. One door only. They could only go forward.

"We try to find Alexius. He might still be out there. We're still in Redcliffe Castle." Faolon came to stand beside him by the door.

"The place will be crawling with enemies…" Dorian looked up at the big elf.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." he said with a sarcastic lilt. To his surprise the Herald smirked. The Herald tried the door, then kicked it by the handle when it wouldn't open, slamming the door back, splintering the wood.

"After you." The tall elf gestured towards the door. Dorian stared up at him for a moment, before he sighed, and stepped cautiously through the door. He heard the scrape of steel behind him. The Herald had unsheathed his blade. Probably a smart move. Dorian mentally prepared himself for battle. There was no way to know what to expect. Faolon came to walk in front of him.

"Can't afford to lose the only mage I have to hand." he said quietly. Dorian didn't think one elf would be enough to stop the potential forces held within the castle from killing him if they wanted to. But he greatly appreciated the gesture.

They were pinned down in a corridor, balls of flame searing down the hallway. Arrows flew towards them, a near miss more times than Dorian would care to admit. Dorian advanced towards the Herald who was fending off three red templars. He tried to push them back, away from the elf. Faolan reached out a hand, and yanked Dorian back just as a flash of red lyrium made for his head. He cried out when the skin of his cheek split. If he had not been pulled back, he would be without a head. Faolan managed to push them back.

"Dorian!" he called.

"Still here." Now wasn't the time to be dwelling on his injuries. He continued his assault, finally managing to be rid of the disturbingly deformed enemies. Dorian rested his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath. "Well you weren't wrong. This place is certainly crawling." Dorian touched his cheek when he felt blood trickling down his skin. He winced in pain.

"You need to stay back! You're a mage! You're more vulnerable in a battle!" Faolan spat, as he turned on Dorian. "You could have gotten yourself killed, then where would we be? I can't get out of here on my own. I need you to stay alive!" Dorian's heart was still pounding from the fight. He stared into the Herald's furious eyes. Dorian realised the elf was scared. Worried. He bit back a retort.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Faolan's expression softened. He reached out and took the mage's face in his hands. He was gentler than he expected, his fingers touching him very lightly.

"What are you doing?" His voice was muffled against the Herald's hand. He looked up at the man wild eyed.

"That was red lyrium. We've seen what that stuff does to people. If any of that is in your wound…" The Herald leaned in close and inspected his wound carefully. He tugged at his skin gently. "Can you heal that?" he asked quietly, his hand still upon the mage's face. Dorian nodded gently. The Herald patted him on the cheek once, before he turned back to the corridor before them. Dorian stared at his back for a moment, before lifting his hand to his cheek, healing the wound. He sucked air through his teeth at the strange sensation of his flesh stitching itself back together.

"You're not bad with that sword, Herald. I've never met an elf who was a fiercer warrior." Dorian said wryly, by way of making conversation.

"Most likely because you've only met elves who were slaves." Dorian looked down at his feet. How could he reply to that? He sighed heavily.

"Come on. We need to find Alexius."

The Herald had blood spattered on his tattooed face, fear in his eyes. A woman named Leliana stood before them, bow in hand.

"GO!" she said in a gravelly voice. Dorian had the rift open. The rift in time that would take them… somewhere. Hopefully back to where they needed to be. The world in which the Herald didn't exist was an awful place. Dorian hadn't quite realised how important the Herald was to the fight against Alexius and the cause he was bending himself to. Dorian held out his hand.

"Herald! Faolan come on!" The Herald looked at Leliana one last time.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, as he turned to Dorian, and took his hand, running with him. Again, Dorian felt the sensation of being hurled, of moving somewhere. There was no sound, there was nothing to see, nothing to feel. The only thing he was aware of was the Herald's hand in his. He could feel the elf's strong grip in his. It was a wonder that they had ended up in the same place the first time. There was no way that Dorian was going to take another chance. When the sound came rushing back in, Dorian was on his knees, gasping for air, and the Herald's hand was gone from his. When he looked up the tall elf stood with his blade to Alexius' throat. The doors at the back of the hall crashed open and soldiers poured through, headed up by the King, Alistair. They had done it. Dorian stood, wiping the dust from his knees.

Felix came to stand by him. The last time he had seen the boy in the alternate time, he had been like some sorry beast at his father's heels.

"You never cease to surprise." In a moment of emotion, the mage threw his arms around the younger man, and hugged him.

"Take care of yourself Felix. And write to me." The younger man seemed taken aback, but he hugged him back.

"Don't be getting emotional now, Dorian. If you cry I'll never let you forget it." He stepped back from Felix, and rolled his eyes.

"Just stay safe." Felix nodded.

"Don't be a martyr." The two men stared at each other, knowing what was coming. Alexius hadn't acted alone. There would be more from Tevinter behind him, giving their country even more of a bad name. Felix might not be here long enough to see the Imperium redeemed. He stood and watched as Dorian's former mentor was dragged away, surrounded by Templars and soldiers.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this Felix." The younger man looked on in silence.

"He's not himself. I would rather he be taken away than innocent people die." Dorian's eyes went to the Herald who was speaking to the King, whom he towered over. For some reason the king seemed nervous. Who was this man to make kings cower?

"And have you found my cousin yet?"

"She doesn't wish to be found, Herald." the king said, his voice sounding meek and meagre by comparison.

"How do you know that nothing bad has happened to her? How do you know she isn't dead?" Dorian was fascinated. He knew of nobody who would speak to a king that way. The man was unafraid. There was something unique about this Herald. He climbed out of the fade, and he seemed to wrap people around his little finger. He was at the front of an organisation that was gaining in power and influence, he could cut down the most powerful of beasts, he could close the very rifts in the sky, and now he could make kings cast their eyes down in shame.

When the king and his men moved out to secure the castle, Dorian moved to the Herald's side.

"You acquitted yourself very well in that crisis. If it weren't for you…" Faolan paused, then looked down at the man, and he had a warm small for the first time. His eyes betrayed his exhaustion, but Dorian also saw gratitude. "Thank you, Dorian Pavus. The Inquisition could use a man like you." Dorian smiled shyly. He had become accustomed to revulsion. He was the social pariah, and outcast. It had been a long time since somebody had thanked him. Since someone had told him he did a good job.

"You saved my life, Herald. I-"

"Please. You can call me Fay. Friends call me Fay." Dorian took a moment to collect himself. He was moved, grateful.

"Thank you…. Fay." The Herald grinned at him, took his hand and shook it.

"You're coming back with us to Haven." he said confidently. Dorian snorted in amusement.

"Am I?" A slow smile spread on Fay's face.
"You've a good heart. You can't stay away from a good cause." The Herald walked away, and all Dorian could do was stare after him.