Vir Harel

"We'll begin here, moving toward the breach with our warriors out front."

Not yet

"The mages should follow close behind, we'll need them nearby when we arrive at the breach."

They were all gathered around the war table, all the members of their little group listening to Cullen lay out the assault on the Breach. It was time they addressed it, time it was closed. Cendres looked around at the faces he'd grown to know and trust and his heart hammered in his chest.

Dia, help me, I'm not ready, I can't do this.

"Ha'el?" Ceraes murmured as she lay a hand on her brothers shoulder, leaning in close. His hands were on the table before them, clenched into tight fists, knuckles white as snow against his already pale skin.

Oh no, her eyes widened and she felt her stomach clench.

His eyes were fixed open, staring into nothing. His face impossibly pale and his hands were shaking now. He was trying so hard to keep his composure.

It was happening.

"Ha'el, Cendres, look at me." Ceraes glanced around the table nervously, thankfully no one seemed to have noticed anything was wrong. Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to her, a certain mage was watching the siblings with growing concern.

She finally caught her brother's eyes and what she saw made her heart ache.

"Goodness, I'm awfully tired, I mean, some of us just got back from a scouting mission. Do you think we could finish this up a little later? At least long enough to change into something that isn't covered in giant blood?" Ceraes made a show of lifting her bloody cloak and pulling a face at the smell.

"This is important, Ceraes," Josephine frowned. "All of Thedas is counting on us to fix this, we must be prepared."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ceraes saw her brother flinch and surged on ahead.

"Oh yes, I know, I just thought we all might need a little-GREAT CREATORS! Sera, what are you doing to Cassandra's coat?!"

The entire room swung around to stare at Sera, who was indeed standing beside Cassandra but completely innocent for once.

"What?! I haven't done shite!"

"Don't be childish now, just apologize and fix it." Ceraes chided, subtly nudging Cendres toward the door.

"What have you done now, Sera?! You had better not have smeared something on me!"

"I have NOT! Jus' cause she says I did somethin, don't mean a damn thing!"

The two women grew louder and louder, drawing all attention away from Ceraes' side of the room and when she heard the creaking of door hinges, a wave of relief passed over her. Sera and Cassandra were so loud, no one else heard him leave. She hoped he could find a good place to calm down.

With that she turned her attention back to the argument, completely missing Dorian slip out behind her.

.

.

Something was wrong.

Dorian frowned worriedly at Cendres from across the room.

The elf looked terrible, his whole body was shaking, and he seemed to be trying desperately to ignore everything and everyone around him.

The mage watched Ceraes lean over and grew even more concerned when he saw her stiffen. Suddenly she was making some lame excuse to put off the conversation at hand, but the others weren't having it.

Apparently whatever was happening to Cendres, was something Ceraes didn't want anyone to see.

He had just begun picking his way over to the elves when Ceraes shouted an accusation at Sera.

The others turned to look and she started pushing her brother toward the door.

When it was clear no one was paying attention anymore, Cendres bolted. He threw open the door and ran, and without even considering why, Dorian followed.

.

.

Run. Run.

Cendres tore open the war room door and sprinted out through the keep. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think, he just ran. He nearly crashed into Mother Giselle as he fought his way out of the building.

"Herald? Herald?!"

He didn't hear her, he only ran. Through Haven, past the tavern, out the gates, into the snow.

What if you fail? What then? The world is counting on you. You can't do it, you'll only let them down. You'll be the death of them all. The world will end, children will suffer and die and it will all be your fault.

Half way there, he could see the lake and the forest stretching out past them.

You'll let them down, in the end. They'll wonder why they ever believed in you. Everything you love will burn again. All your fault. Again.

He was on the other side of the lake now, almost home free.

"Cendres!"

A hand clamped around his wrist, hauling him back. He fought against it, clawed at the fingers holding him, struggling toward the quiet safety of somewhere, anywhere but here.

"Cendres! Cendres, stop! Amici, please!"

Dorian?

Cendres froze, his eyes still fixed on the trees ahead.

The mage pulled on the elf's wrist, forcing Cendres to face him. He was not prepared for what he saw.

The elf's eyes were wide against his ashen face, filled with terror and desperation. He stared intently into nothing, desperate, it seemed, to be as empty as humanly possible. His whole body shook, how he was even standing, Dorian couldn't begin to imagine.

"Cendes," Dorian murmured again and the elf finally looked at him, then immediately down.

"Dorian," He was trying to sound calm, nonchalant. He was failing. "Why did you follow me? I just needed some air, I'm fine, really, please let me g-"

He trailed off, staring at the hand still firmly clasped around his wrist. It was bleeding. Lines of torn skin stretching from the fingers to the wrist glared back at him.

"Ah," Dorian coughed. "Yes, well, you really didn't want to be stopped, did you?"

The mage let go, pulling his hand back, but Cendres caught it. He crumpled even as he clung to it, tears slipping down his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, sliding to his knees.

And Dorian followed to catch him, wrapping strong arms around the elf, letting him bury his face in the crook of his neck.

Surely the world must be ending, there could be no other explanation, Dorian thought, as his arms tightened around the elf. This was not his Cendres, not the man he'd come to know.

An endless stream of apologies poured from Cendres' lips, some in elven, some in common, and Dorian responded with soft words of reassurance, his fingers gliding gently through the other mans hair.

They knelt there together until the sun began to set and Cendres' heartbeat slowed to the steady pace of Dorian's own.

.

.

"My Keeper called it Vir Harel," Cendres murmured hours later as Dorian ruffled his snow soaked hair with a cloth.

They'd gotten more than a few suspicious looks when they'd drifted, damp and shivering from the snow, back through Haven. Cendres still had one very awkward apology to Mother Giselle to make, but they'd both figured that could wait till later.

Ceraes, more than a little surprised to see Dorian, had intercepted them at the door of the chantry. Thankfully she'd just shaken her head and waved them away to one of the empty cabins so they could avoid any unwanted questions.

Now here they were, Cendres perched on the edge of the cabin's bed, with Dorian standing in front of him, drying his hair.

"Vir Harel." Dorian repeated, brushing still damp hair out of the way to rub the cloth over the elf's delicate ears.

"It loosely translates to 'The Dread'."

Cendres still wouldn't look at him, but pressed on with his explanation.

"She said it's something that happens, something inside some of us that eats us away. Tears us down, makes us not ourselves and fills us with fear. But fear isn't even the right word for it, because it's not really scary. I mean, sometimes it is, but mostly it's just a sense of wrongness. Something is wrong and you can't stop it from being that way"

"Most of the time it's not so bad; it's not always so violent. Most of the time it's littler, just a gnawing worry, that mean little voice inside your head, whispering bad things. Most of the time you can choke it down, hold it in, push it away, convince yourself it's alright. Most of the time you feel the wrong, and you have to go away to be alone and breath or count to a hundred or tell yourself you're okay, everything is okay, but it's manageable."

Cendres finally looked up, weary silver eyes meeting quiet hazel ones, and Dorian's hands stilled in his hair.

"But sometimes...Sometimes it feels like drowning. Sometimes it feels like nothing you do will ever matter again because something is wrong."

"Sometimes it's something big, like a world changing decision, like the Breach. Sometimes it's something small, like an item that's sat in one place for years is now sitting in another. Sometimes it's something in particular; that one item in the same place or the Breach. And sometimes it's nothing. Sometimes it just happens for no reason at all."

"That's when it's really terrifying. Because you know, you just know that something is wrong, but you don't know what it is, or how to fix it. Nothing you do, nothing you tell yourself, matters. The wrongness persists, this heavy pressure, this desperate need to run and not stop until you physically cannot run any more, until, finally, it just isn't there anymore. And just like that it's gone and you're left wondering what in the Maker's name is wrong with you because this is not normal. You are not normal and nothing ever feels quite right again. Not after that."

Dorian let the cloth slide from his hands and sat next to the elf, resting his torn hand on Cendres' knee.

The elf lay his hand on top of Dorian's, and, for such a sarcastic, strong, and fierce man, looked for all the world like a kicked puppy.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, I never meant to-"

"It's just a few scratches, amici, it'll heal." Dorian squeezed the elf's fingers gently. "I must say though, I was surprised, you're usually so in control. It shocked me to see you so distraught. It was very unlike you."

"That's what's so bad about it," Cendres groaned, his eyebrows knitting together. "It is so unlike me. It's nothing like me. I am quiet and confident and in control. That is loud and terrified and unmanageable. It's not normally like that, usually I can handle it better. I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

"Excuse you," Dorian huffed. It was about time things went back to normal. He would get the elf to smile if it killed him. "Do you not remember what I said last time? My charm does wonders for shattered nerves? Hmm?"

Cendres' mouth twitched, "So if I'm going crazy just come find you? You sure you want that kind of responsibility? If so, I suggest you go to Ceraes for pointers, I can be very difficult to manage."

"Please, one look at my serene visage and all you'll be able to think is: 'How amazing that man over there is.' Not to mention handsome and witty and-"

"Modest?" Cendres chuckled, his eyes shining.

"Modesty is for priests and Heralds, if one knows one's virtues, why shouldn't they claim them?"

"Heralds?" Cendres raised an eyebrow, "Are you talking about me?"

"Certainly, and on you it is lovely, because whenever anyone praises you, you go a rather fetching shade of red."

Cendres blushed.

"Just like that!"

"Hush." Cendres muttered, and Dorian just grinned.

"Honestly, amici, you're right, you aren't normal."

Cendres frowned, but Dorian took his hand again and pressed on.

"But who wants to be normal? Normal is boring. If you and I were normal, neither of us would be sitting here. We wouldn't be friends."

"Well," Cendres murmured. "I certainly wouldn't like that."

"Nor I," Dorian gave his hand another squeeze. "So lets be abnormal. I'll be the egotistical mage and you be the basket case Herald and together we'll drown anyone who doesn't like it."

Cendres laughed, a smile stretching across his face.

"Deal. And Dorian?"

Their eyes met and Dorian felt his heart stumble.

"Thank you."

x

x

(Author's Notes:

Ha'el - Older

Dia - the gods or the Creators

Vir Harel - The Dread (literally: The Way of Dread)

Amici - Friend (latin)

Goodness that was a long one. Or, at least, it felt like it to me. I've been bouncing back and forth trying to decide when to reveal this certain tidbit of info about Cendres.

In case it wasn't obvious, Vir Harel is my Dragon Age equivalent of chronic anxiety.

Before I say anything else, please know that I'm not saying this is how anxiety is for everyone. Everyone is different and has different symptoms, Cendres is shaped by my own personal experiences, that's all. Anxiety can't be pegged down to a certain set of symptoms or problems, it is hugely multifaceted and I would never presume to say I knew all about it.

That being said, I've been fighting my particular beast for a long time; that bit about the object in one place for years was a personal experience of mine for when I was a kid. It really is crippling. It keeps you from trying new things, meeting new people, accepting change and just growing in life. I still can't/don't/won't drive because of it.

It's silly, but imagining my Inquisitor, the person who, as The Iron Bull says, can make the hard decisions and live with them, as having this problem was incredibly cathartic for me.

I remember the first time I imagined him having a panic attack was right after the Inquisition is formally announced and you stand with Cassandra and the others in front of the Chantry. After you get control again I remember thinking:

"Wow, that's a lot of pressure, what did he do right after that? I mean, you know some time had to have passed. Did he just stand there in the same place for an hour or two trying to process what just happened." And it hit me. Yes, he did just stand there and he had a small panic attack. All this weight's just been put on his shoulders, what else would he be doing? I just imagined everyone dispersing and Cendres still standing there like, "No you all go ahead, I'll catch up, I just wanna stand here and breath for a second because holy god what have I gotten myself into?"

That's not to say I imagine everyone's Inquisitor as having chronic anxiety, just mine. It made him a much more relatable character for me and actually made me think more about the choices I made.

This particular story came from when I found myself searching for reasons NOT to close the Breach.

After I collected Dorian and the mages, I finished all of the Hinterlands (yes ALL of it), then the Stormcoast and Fallowmire. I even unlocked and completed all that I could of the Forbidden Oasis. I just did NOT want to move on to the Breach. No real reason, I just kept putting it off.

Not yet, I said to myself. I'm not ready. He's not ready.

When I realized I what I was doing, I had to laugh. And I knew I had to write something about it.

So there you go, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sometimes I worry that I present Cendres poorly, but hopefully I get my points across well enough that you all understand his character pretty well. He holds it all in till it drives him crazy, I think I made that clear. I hope I did =P

As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated, it gives me all the warm fuzzies to hear from you guys.

Thanks for reading, I'll see you in the next one =] )