A/N: Well, at least these chapters are staying pretty consistent in length xD I don't know much about the mercenary groups in Dragon Age, so... if something's wrong, sorry. I also tried to look up a timeline to see how far apart Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition are, but sadly my search has turned up empty, so I'm going to make it up and say a few months to a year. If you know otherwise let me know, please!

Chapter length: 3458

Onward!

Chapter Three: Kirkwall's Chaos

Dorian spent the next few weeks traveling alone with Callum. Emry promised to not accept any jobs until Callum came back in a month, so that gave them a week to return to the assassin's guild they worked for. Callum had yet to speak of the name of such an organization and let slip very little about what he did, but Dorian already knew what he needed to know: Callum was an assassin and for some reason, was traveling with a mage.

A mage from Tevinter, of all things.

In time, they found a small hut outside a small town. After Callum scouted the place he deemed it fit for upkeep, and the two began working on it. Dorian took the time to check over every minute detail, as this would be his new home. A small hut south of the Hinterlands, where the most he would have to worry about was the wildlife, and if he took precautions, he would be fine, according to Callum.

"As long as you don't do anything too mage-y," Callum told him as they finished fixing the place. It wasn't in total disrepair when they first got it, Callum helping him obtain it legally, with money Dorian didn't have. Even after selling his birthright, he was mostly out of coin. He doubted he knew what he would do if it weren't for the rogue assassin helping him every step of the way.

Life outside of Tevinter was proving to be more difficult than he thought. All his life he'd had everything he wanted, but there was always a catch. He could have the best living conditions, books he could study for hours, a mentor he could connect with on a more personal, intellectual level, but in return his parents always wanted something from him.

They wished for him to marry a young woman specifically chosen for him for her bloodline. They would have fine heirs and he would take his father's place in the Magisterium, living in luxurious despair, hating each other. He saw how his parents behaved toward one another; there was no love there, merely duty. They were given to each other to produce an heir – him. And what a fine heir he turned out to be! He hit every disappointment they could have thought of. He was nothing but an embarrassment to them, so it was better while he was away.

They gave him 'everything', or so they said, and he couldn't do this one little thing for them. Even though this 'one little thing' meant screaming on the inside for the rest of his life, and it was something he just simply couldn't do.

He had everything, but it always came with a price. A hefty price he couldn't pay.

A part of him wondered what the price was for Callum's assistance. Callum spent a lot of time and money helping him find a new place to stay. Somehow, listening to Dorian ramble about the Fade didn't seem like adequate payment, and yet it was all Callum asked for in return.

They spent days speaking about the Fade. Callum had Dorian quiz him on everything ranging from demons to spirits to abominations. Why this was so important to him, Dorian didn't know, but he had to admit he rather enjoyed their lengthy conversations on such things. No one had ever taken such an interest in what Dorian had to say. When Dorian spoke – about anything – Callum always listened with such intent, leaning forward, brows furrowed, eyes focused solely on Dorian, like he was the only other person who existed in Thedas.

It was – intriguing.

Dorian never quite got along with his peers in Tevinter. He was always the outcast, the pariah, so he was used to be treated as such. People dismissed him, rolled their eyes and turned away in disgust as he spoke of his views on Tevinter and their politics, on how things should change. They turned away distastefully when he refused to marry as his parents wished. They turned away when he said he would never find the right woman, because that wasn't what he was interested in.

They turned away.

They never leaned forward.

Not like Callum.

Dorian couldn't remember the last time he truly had a friend. Felix was a good friend, his mentor's son, but he hadn't seen Felix in a long time. Months, even before he left Tevinter.

He wasn't sure if he and Callum were friends, exactly, but there was a certain kinship here he hadn't noticed before, with anyone else. Who else would help someone build a new life for themselves, and ask for only basic information on the Fade in return?

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Callum's voice was quiet in the stillness of the main room, where Dorian sat reading a book by candlelight. Even though he didn't bring much with him, he did bring this book with him, the last book he was studying before he and Alexius, his mentor, parted ways.

"Oh?"

He wasn't quite sure how to respond to that statement.

"Good luck," he wound up saying, though he found his heart wasn't really in it. The thought of being in this small hut, on the edge of society, alone, suddenly seemed rather daunting.

"Have to get back to work," Callum said, sitting next to him in a small wooden chair. "Emry's never going to let me hear the end of it. Anyway – thanks for the information. You've been helpful."

"I told you the basics of shades and the Fade," Dorian said, frowning. "How is that helpful?"

Callum shook his head, wearing that small half-smile Dorian had come to associate with him. "It was more helpful than you know. Thank you. I appreciate it."

He seemed so sincere, too. Dorian smiled. "Then you're welcome, I suppose. Although, I believe it is I who should be thanking you."

Callum waved that hand dismissively, like he did often. "Don't thank me, just helping you out. You don't really have anyone else, do you?"

Dorian's smile faltered.

Callum shook his head. "Don't answer that. It was insensitive of me. I apologize."

"It's fine," Dorian said. "No, I don't really have anyone else. It's just… me."

"What about your family?"

"We didn't see eye-to-eye. So I left."

"You ran away from home?"

"Something like that, yes."

"I'm sure you have your reasons."

Dorian released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Thankfully, Callum seemed to understand, and he didn't need to get into the details about why he left as he did, in such a rush and with very little to his name.

"I'll be sure to check on you when I come back through here again," Callum told him, breaking him from his thoughts.

"I could always go with you."

He wasn't sure where that particular offer came from, but once he said it, he found he meant it.

He didn't hate traveling with Callum. Plus, being here alone… surrounded by wildlife and potential Templars…

Callum scoffed. "No offense, Dori, but you're not really the mercenary type."

"Dori?"

The name rolled off his tongue strangely, but he found he liked it far better when it came from someone else's mouth. He shook that particular thought away, because it was rather absurd. He barely knew Callum, even though they'd been traveling together for over a month.

"I like nicknames," Callum said, smirking. "Sorry. You'll get used to it."

You'll get used to it.

Getting used to it meant being around each other more, and Dorian found he didn't hate that idea. In fact it rather intrigued him, so he smiled.

"I see. In that case… I guess no offense taken."

He really wasn't the mercenary type. Killing people for money wasn't his thing, really.

"I must advise against publicly using magic. If you have to in private, that's fine, just make sure no one is around to notice. Wards are fine, I suppose. Just be careful."

"I will be fine, thank you."

"It's different here than it is in Tevinter. Tensions between mages and Templars are high. There's rumor a war might break out."

Dorian winced. "Well, then I picked the perfect time to run away from home, didn't I?"

"Just be careful."

"If I didn't know better, I'd almost say you were worried about me," he said, smirking at the rogue.

"I'm serious."

Dorian's smile fled. "I see. In that case, you have my word – I will be careful, if you do the same. I don't want to hear from our elven friend that you perished in a tragic accident."

Callum smirked. "Me? Perish? Perish the thought."

Dorian rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, jest if you must. Do I have your word?"

"If I didn't know better," Callum said, grinning, echoing Dorian's earlier words. "But yes, Dori, you have my word. And I'll try to write to you at the very least. Probably check in when I can."

Dorian nodded, relaxing back into his seat.

xXx

"About time I saw your ugly face again."

Callum smirked at the familiar voice, turning to face Emry. "If I'm so ugly why are you thinking of my face?"

Emry rolled his sunset eyes. "How's the Vint?"

"Dorian is fine," Callum said in response, shaking his head. "He's not so bad, you know."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure he's quite amazing when you're alone with him."

Callum frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Emry shook his head. "Nothing, Cal, nothing. Are you ready? We have a ways to go."

"Again with the faraway jobs? Didn't I tell you to stop accepting those?"

He complained a lot about traveling, but it wasn't the worst thing ever, really. He was used to the long walks by now so they didn't really bother him, but most of the time he would rather just get a job done and be then be done with it. Instead it took upwards of a week to get to their destination half the time, and then they did a little scouting and recon on their target, and went from there. Then the journey back.

It was exhausting.

"We're supposed to go to Kirkwall," Emry said. "A mage uprising. We aren't killing anyone; just getting information."

"Mage uprising?" Callum echoed with a frown. "Why do I not like the sound of that?"

"What part of 'uprising' sounds good?" Emry retorted, shrugging. "We have to be there in a week."

"I literally just got back."

"Take a nap, but then we're leaving. It's not my fault you had to stay with your boy toy for weeks."

Irritation blazed behind Callum's eyes. Sometimes Emry's remarks could get a little out of hand. "He is not my boy toy, we're merely friends. He was giving me information, and I was helping him settle into his new place."

Emry snorted. "Whatever you want to call it, Cal. Anyway – go nap, because we need to be leaving soon."

Callum sighed heavily and nodded, following Emry into the building.

Callum had been working for his particular group for a long time now. He joined at the young age of thirteen when he had nowhere else to go and he'd exhausted all his other options. With no money and little experience doing much of anything, he turned to the mercenaries, who were recruiting at the time, a newly formed group. They trained him and gave him a place to stay, and he met Emry.

This had been his life for a long time now.

He honestly couldn't imagine doing anything else.

xXx

Kirkwall is chaos.

By the time they arrived in Kirkwall, it was utter chaos. The chantry had been destroyed by an apostate seeking to start a war. One didn't grow up in Thedas without hearing of the mage-templar rivalry and everything, but this was going a little far. A part of Callum could see why someone would deem such an act necessary. Another part of him was appalled at the gratuitous death surrounding him. Just a lot of needless death.

The mage in question, Anders, was a healer in Kirkwall. He was known for helping the sick and those in need, and especially for helping mages escape Kirkwall's Circle, where the mages were to be kept. Anders was also apparently a Grey Warden. Callum would admit he didn't know much about Grey Wardens; they were a rather secretive bunch and he'd only ever met one Grey Warden in his life, and the guy wasn't very keen on conversation, especially about the Wardens.

In the aftermath of Anders' attempt to start a war – which was rather successful, it seemed – the city was in chaos. Mages fled in terror while the Templars attempted to retaliate. Orsino was supposed to be in charge of the mages but rumors said he turned into an abomination. Callum wasn't a Templar, but he knew what that meant. He grew up around Templars and members of the chantry, as that was what most of his siblings did when they were old enough.

There was no stopping what started here.

He was happy he wasn't a mage, in that moment.

Except then his mind fled to Dorian, alone in the Hinterlands, unaware of what had happened in Kirkwall. Unaware of the mage uprising which would soon sweep across the entirety of Thedas. Unaware of the fact Templars would be more ruthless than ever before.

As Dorian's friend – at least, he thought they were friends, but he would admit he'd never been very good with friends except for Emry – he felt the need to warn him.

First thing's first, though.

He needed to gather the information they'd been sent to retrieve, and then he could focus on warning Dorian.

xXx

Dorian spent most of his time tidying up his new living space, though back home he'd always hated the upkeep. Dusting grew tiresome. They had slaves for that. He'd never personally had slaves, but his family did, and they were always treated well. Honestly he never gave much thought to slavery until he left and began traveling with Emry and Callum, Emry being an ex-slave. Learning that tidbit of information left him rethinking his entire life, and the lies he'd told himself about slavery.

Alone in this little hut gave him a lot of time to think, though.

He debated returning to Tevinter. Perhaps he'd misread everything. Maybe his parents didn't wish for him to undergo such a ritual. Except he knew what he heard, he knew what he saw. With certainty. They wanted to do a blood ritual to change his mind, make him more compliant with their demands and wishes.

Leaving was the right thing to do.

Staying away, though…

For how long could he remain here?

Alone in a hut at the edge of society was no way to live, he was certain. Then again, what life was there for him in Tevinter? Anywhere?

He was as alone in Minrathos as he was here.

Three weeks after Callum left, there was a knock at Dorian's door.

For a moment he almost didn't recognize the sound. Then he stumbled to his feet, nearly tripped over his chair, and made his way for the door, fingers curling behind his staff which he held behind his back, just in case. He opened the door slightly, just enough to see who stood outside, and then he found himself smiling, opening the door further.

"Callum," he said in greeting.

Callum didn't smile. "It's not safe here," he said.

"Beg pardon?"

"There's been a mage uprising,"

"A mage…?"

"Uprising," Callum finished, pushing past Dorian into the small hut. Dorian closed the door behind him and turned to face him as Callum walked into the center of the main room. "Started in Kirkwall. It's caused full out war between Templars and mages."

"I… see," Dorian said slowly, though in truth he didn't fully understand. Wasn't there already a war between the two? Wasn't actually official now? Where did that leave him?

"It's no longer safe here."

"So you've said, but I don't see what you want me to do."

"I… don't know."

It was the first time he'd actually seen Callum falter. A part of him wanted to laugh even though it made him a bit uneasy. Callum, thus far, had always seemed like he was in control.

"I appreciate the warning, but I don't know what you would have me do," Dorian said, frowning. "I'm being as careful as I can be as it is."

"I know, I just… I don't know. Sorry. I just thought I'd warn you."

"I appreciate the concern."

It was the most concern he could remember someone having for him. His parents, when he was little, worried about him and fussed over him all the time, for every little thing. But as an adult, they seemed to almost dislike him. They wanted him for their legacy and their own needs, it seemed, and yet what he wanted never entered the picture. They didn't care about him as a person, only what they wanted him to be, what he was supposed to be to them.

It was just how things were in Tevinter.

He would be lying if he said he didn't yearn for something different.

Because he did.

And this… this felt like something different.

And he actually kind of liked it.

"Things are going to get very bad very fast," Callum sighed, scrubbing a gloved hand across his face, closing his eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Sit and relax," Dorian commanded, pressing down lightly on Callum's shoulder. The rogue sat without argument, and Dorian exited the room to be begin working on dinner. It was late evening, and he'd been meaning to start it anyway.

"Do you have enough food?" Callum asked when he returned to the main room, dinner cooking with what little things he had.

"For the moment, yes," Dorian replied.

"Have you gone into town yet?"

"Once, yes. It went fine."

Callum nodded. "That's good, I guess. I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

"I put you in this place and now it's dangerous. That's kind of my fault."

"I don't see how it is. You helped me when I needed it. You couldn't have known what was happening in Kirkwall."

"Still… it's even more of a risk to be here now. Have you thought of returning home?"

Dorian looked away, shaking his head. "That is… not an option at this time."

"What happened? It can't be worse than a war."

"It is… difficult to say at this point. I'm sorry."

"Don't be – we all have things we can't talk about just yet."

Dorian nodded, thankful Callum seemed to understand, and the issue of returning to Tevinter was dropped.

"Do you have any friends or relatives outside of Tevinter, then?"

"I have a long family lineage, and many branches to that line," Dorian said with a shrug. "As for someone I could stay with, if that is what you mean, then no, I do not."

"I see. Then I supposed this is your only option, yes?"

"Looks like it," Dorian mumbled, sighing heavily.

"Don't worry – I'm sure you'll be fine, as long as you're careful. It will take them a while to get this far with their war. Things should be okay for a little while, and we'll think on options in the meantime."

"We?" Dorian asked, quirking a brow.

"What? You think I'm just going to leave you out here all on your lonesome?"

"Tell me – what does it matter to you?"

"Beg pardon?"

Dorian sat across from Callum in the free chair. "You are not a mage, nor a Templar. Why does this concern you?"

"Well – we're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't know, are we?"

Callum frowned. "Do you want to be friends?"

Dorian hesitated. It had been a long time since he truly had a friend, outside of Felix. "Yes, I think I would like that."

Callum offered a faint smile. "Then we're friends. And friends worry about each other, especially when they get the other into this situation."

"You didn't get me into anything, you only helped me when I needed it."

The sandy-haired rogue shrugged. "Either way… things just got a lot more complicated. In the meantime, be careful, and I'll see what I can do from my end. I'll try to let you know if there are any Templars in the area."

Dorian nodded, even as he wondered if this war was truly that important. Well, of course it was, all wars were important, and this one did involve mages, of which he was one. However, this happened elsewhere; who was to say it would spread to the Hinterlands?

Callum smiled.

"Anyway – that food smells delicious and I'm starving. When will it be ready?"

A/N: And there's that chapter. Hope it sounds okay. Sorry if it's still sounding rushed: I'm terrible at beginnings. Thanks for reading and please review!

~Muffy the Dough Slayer~