Chapter 13: Distance

"Close the door," Cullen said, but his tone was tired and defeated, so Theo did as he was asked.

"Commander, are you well?" Theo asked, pulling up a chair. He'd wondered about Cullen since the night Cassandra had led him out of the war room. The intervening days had been busy and Theo had sneaked away with Dorian whenever he could, so he'd not seen much of Cullen. When a page found him at target practice and said Cullen needed to see him, Theo assumed the worst.

He eyed the wooden box on Cullen's desk. The Commander stared at it periodically, and Theo wondered what was in it but was afraid to ask. At last Cullen slammed the cover and took a deep breath. "I called you here for two reasons. The first is I've found some more information on the red templars. They're led by a man named Samson that I knew in Kirkwall. He used to be a templar," Cullen explained. "I'll do more digging, but it's possible that if we can take out Samson, without a leader the red templars will either collapse upon themselves, or join us."

"I don't know if the latter is a great option," Theo said, raising an eyebrow.

"Nor do I," Cullen conceded. "Varric has a friend who was researching red lyrium, so they headed out to Valammar over in Ferelden to check it out."

"That's surprising," Theo said. They'd hardly been back at Skyhold a week. "But I suppose it's in our best interests to know as much as possible." Cullen nodded, but Theo got the sense that he wasn't quite done. "Something else?" he asked, but he smiled. Part of him worried that Cullen was going to give him another lecture about being with Dorian; it seemed to be the popular thing to do these days.

Cullen merely cleared his throat and tapped his fingers on the wooden box. "As you know, I used to be a templar." Theo nodded. "Templars have a very specific set of skills, but in order to hone those skills and use them, we have to take lyrium." Cullen cracked his knuckles and shook his hands out. "The need for it increases over time, and it comes to a point that without it we could die. And I… have stopped taking it."

Theo's witty retort died on his tongue and he sat there in front of Cullen with his mouth hanging open. Cullen did not snap, did not sigh; he just stared at the box on the desk, which Theo realized must have been his lyrium tools. "The Inquisition has supply lines because of the mages," he began, but Cullen shook his head.

"No. It's not an issue of supply for me," he said. His face broke into an ironic smile. "Supply is what made Samson who he is. He couldn't get his fixes often enough, so he went to outside suppliers. When he was thrown out of the order he still needed lyrium, and he always needed more. I won't become that," he said, clutching the box. Theo was afraid he would throw it.

Instead Cullen put it in a drawer and paced, trying to take deep breaths. "I stopped taking it months ago. I actually haven't touched it since before the Inquisition. I refuse to be bound to that life. If the withdrawal becomes too much for me…" Here he paused and clenched his hands, which Theo realized were shaking. "I have asked Cassandra to keep an eye on me. I trust her, not just in her opinion of me, but in her ability to lead the armies in my stead."

"Wait," Theo said. "I can't just lose you." His head was a jumble of thoughts as he tried to picture the Inquisition's armies without Cullen at the helm. It was not something he could imagine, and the thought frightened him; not because he didn't trust Cassandra, but because as long as he'd been part of all of this, Cullen and his experience and wisdom had been constant.

Cullen smiled a bit sadly and leaned against his desk. "The army takes priority. This was not a choice I undertook lightly—either to go off lyrium or to allow Cassandra to know. But the Inquisition is about more than my pride. I've seen too many things happen because of pride: Kinloch Hold, Kirkwall… I will not let that happen to the Inquisition." The way he punctuated his statement with a nod told Theo that the decision was final and not up for debate.

"Then I suppose I should say thank you," Theo finally said. Cullen quirked his head to the side. "For being honest. I appreciate you not hiding things from me."

Cullen seemed a bit surprised, but still grateful. "You deserve to know these things if the Inquisition is to be successful."

"Thank you, Cullen. I will trust Cassandra's judgment, but please don't keep me in the dark?" Theo asked as he got up to leave. Cullen waved farewell and Theo headed out onto the battlements outside Cullen's tower office.

"He hurts and wants to heal but it has to hurt more before that can happen."

The voice was soft and certain and Theo spun around to see Cole, the strange young man who'd come to his aid at Haven. He'd almost forgotten that he was still with them. And Theo was positive no one had been outside when he'd left Cullen's office. "How do you know?" Theo asked. As far as he knew, Cullen had only shared this information with Cassandra and himself.

Cole gave a ghost of a smile. "Because I help, but I can't help unless there's hurt." He fixed his pale eyes on Theo. "Smooth wood, tight string, deadly work of art in my hand and he won't even look at me, my voice cuts through the air and does not touch him. He's busy doing something but that something is ignoring me."

An unbidden lump formed in Theo's throat. "How do you know that?" he asked around the ball of glass that had settled where his voice should be.

"Because it hurts you," Cole said gently. "He wanders, watches, worries, waits, I sit in a corner listening and no one sees me. Maybe I'll be needed and if I am he'll finally see me."

"Stop," Theo said in a low voice. He clenched his left hand, the hand with the green mark that made him something. "I know it hurts me. It doesn't mean I want to feel it all over again. That was years ago." The first time Gavriel had been sick. When for one terrible moment Theo had wished his brother would die.

Cole reached out a hand. "I can heal it. Make you forget."

Theo stepped backward. The idea of forgetting all of these painful memories was so tempting, and yet at the same time it was strange because he did not want to lose that. It had become who he was, and part of what he fought for. "Is that how you help?" he asked quietly. "What are you, even?"

Cole must have had excellent reflexes, because Theo had only blinked and then the boy was up walking the chest-high wall of the battlement. Theo craned his neck to get a good look under the hat. Cole was not smiling. "Once there was Cole and he was hurt and cold and they forgot him. Now there is Cole and he helps the hurt and cold by making them forget."

It hardly answered Theo's question, but he supposed he had to put aside expectations of clear answers from the odd boy. "Sometimes remembering helps them heal," Theo finally said. "For some people the hurt is who they are, but for others, the pain pushes them."

"I only want to help." Cole's voice was small and broken, as if he might cry.

"I know," Theo said. "You saved many lives back at Haven, and I think you'll do good work here."

He started for the stairs, but Cole called after him, "If he wanted to see you, would you let him in?" Theo kept going. He pretended Cole was talking about Dorian, because that was a far more pleasant thought than wondering how he would react if his father were to reach out to him.

Two nights later they celebrated a major victory: the completion of the tavern.

Every time the door opened music, shouts, and laughter poured out. It was likely to be packed inside, and the thought of so many bodies pressing against him made Dorian shudder. There was only one body he wanted pressed against his, and it was not going to happen in that tavern. He sighed and paced about the courtyard, giving a nod of greeting to anyone who passed him. His stomach tensed whenever he thought of going in there. Certainly he and Theo had been together in public several times, but they always maintained a respectful distance. It was necessary, Dorian told Theo afterward, every time, and he kissed him and they laughed in the semi-dark of Dorian's room and left the matter at that.

It was driving Dorian to the edge of his sanity.

"You also don't fancy the company of others?" Solas asked, appearing beside him, watching the tavern door open once again into the night.

"I do, just not quite in this volume," Dorian told him. "What brings you here, if you're not interested in watching drunken soldiers and mercenaries?"

Solas smiled. "I'd ask you the same."

Dorian shrugged. "I do believe I asked you first," he said in a light, joking tone that clearly said he was not going to tell Solas anything.

Solas was quiet for a moment. "We exist in dark times, Dorian," he said. "We have a heavy burden to bear, but in order to bear it we must continue to hope. To hope, we must have morale. I suppose the tavern provides that for these people, and I wished to see some levity in the midst of everything."

"That's fair," Dorian said. The door opened once again and he thought about Theo inside, probably smiling and laughing, so he bid farewell to Solas and steeled his resolve.

Inside it was warm and bright and loud, but the kind of loud that came from people enjoying themselves and each others' company, rather than just being obnoxious and drunk. Heads swiveled when he entered and made his way through the crowd. Yes, yes, get a good look at the Tevinter deigning to join you, he thought, though he tried to smile. Then again, he owned a mirror; he knew he was pleasant to look upon. He tried to think that was the reason they stared. It did make him feel better.

"Dorian!" Theo called from across the room. He waved from a corner table where he was sitting with the Iron Bull, Krem, and some of the other Chargers. Dorian took a deep breath, smiled, and headed over. "I'm glad you made it," Theo said, smiling. "Your wine's been getting lonely."

It was amazing that there was an empty chair, but he realized that Theo had been saving it; there was already a glass of red wine on the table, too. Dorian tried to avoid the look Bull was giving him, but realized that the rest of the Chargers were exchanging money. "Something I've missed?" he asked, taking a sip. Not the best he'd ever had. But the thought was very kind.

"My guys were taking bets on whether or not you'd show up," Bull said with a crooked grin. He'd obviously started drinking early. "Dalish even doubled the bet when the boss ordered you a drink." He laughed.

Dorian just sipped again and tried to look disgusted, but Theo's hand was on his leg under the table and it was quite distracting. "Josephine tried, but we don't have enough of a presence yet in Tevinter get to get wine," Theo said with a sigh.

At that point Dalish and Krem came back with another round of drinks for the table, including another glass of red wine for Dorian, who wasn't even half finished his first. Theo already seemed a bit tipsy; his cheeks were splotched red and his eyes were bright. His hand absently stroked Dorian's thigh. Maker's testicles, but it felt good to be touched like that—just casually and naturally. Even with all these people around.

Dorian downed the first glass and started in on the second.

"That's right, mage boy, show my guys how they do it in Tevinter!" Bull roared.

"Fuck me, that's not how we do things in Tevinter," Krem snapped. He stood and chugged his full mug of ale, hardly spilling any down the front of his jerkin. He slammed the mug down on the table. "That's how we do it," he said, breathing heavily, but grinning.

"Are you going to sit back and take that?" Bull asked Dorian.

Dorian took a large gulp of wine. He found it tasted better if he drank it quickly. "Yes, in fact I am," he said, already feeling pleasant and warmed by the wine. Krem's drunken grin spread and he yelled for another round of ales.

Everyone finished off what drinks they had, even if they'd just gotten one. Theo's fingers dug into Dorian's leg lightly, and he was biting his bottom lip in excitement. Dorian rested his hand atop Theo's. It was warm, and Theo turned his own hand over, palm up, and laced his fingers with Dorian's.

Dorian finished off his wine and also waved for ale. Venhedis. He was going to enjoy himself tonight.

The drinks arrived, they all grabbed their mugs, and at once began to chug. Bull was the first one to slam his mug on the table, so hard that the handle broke off. Krem laughed at that, and swore loudly as ale came out his nose. Of the Chargers, only Grim and Rocky were able to finish without spilling (much) of their drinks. Dorian tried to chug, but wound up having to sip and hating every moment of it; surprisingly, Theo finished off his draught. He slammed his mug down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before sitting back proudly, and all the Chargers cheered.

It was not Dorian's usual form of entertainment, but seeing Theo so relaxed and confident made him stay. And then he realized Theo had held his hand the entire time. Dorian was not accustomed to this simple affection, and didn't know if it was the action or the wine that left him feeling warm but confused.

The Chargers got up one at a time and stumbled away. Bull was the last to leave and he gave Theo a once-over. "Lemme know if you need me to carry your ass back to your room, Boss," he said with a loud laugh before he too left. Even though they had a prime table and the tavern was bustling, no asked to take seats.

"You convinced the Chargers to save the table for you," Dorian murmured.

"Of course I did," Theo said. "Everyone's intimidated by them," he added with a grin. "Do you want more wine?"

"You ask the silliest questions," Dorian said with a smile, meeting Theo's gaze. "Though the Bull may end up carrying me back to my rooms tonight if I'm not careful."

Theo shook his head. "Hey, I look scrawny, but I draw a pretty heavy bow. If you need carrying…" He stopped abruptly and looked away. He reached for his mug and went to take a gulp, only to realize it was empty. He tried to pull his hand away, as if aware of what he was doing for the first time. "Shit. I'm sorry, Dor, after all we've talked about discretion and…"

"Shh," Dorian said. "Ideally everyone will be too drunk to remember they ever saw this at all." How he hated walking this fine line.

Theo's brow furrowed. "I know I'm not like most you're probably used to, but I…"

Dorian clasped Theo's hand. "You're not like most, but in all of the best ways possible. I'm only concerned what this could do to you."

Theo sighed and pulled his hand away from Dorian's. "If people hate me because of who I choose to be with then they can find someone else to defeat Corypheus," he said. He toyed with his empty mug and then reached for Dorian's unfinished drink.

"You're the Herald of Andraste," Dorian said. Even to him it sounded like a hollow reason to maintain such distance, especially when they both so clearly wanted to close the gap.

"I don't know why that means so much to you," Theo said.

"Because you could get hurt, and I won't have you hurt because of me," Dorian said. Fasta vass, why wouldn't Theo see that? It was hurting Dorian just as much; but as Mother Giselle had proven, it seemed people were just looking to find fault in all things Tevinter. Dorian included.

Theo stared at him and for one moment Dorian thought Theo might kiss him right there in full view of everybody; his heart quickened. Theo just shook his head before finishing off the last of Dorian's ale and pushing away from the table. "Theo, please," Dorian said with a sigh, realizing that, once again, in trying to help Theo he'd probably hurt his feelings. Part of him was irritated, but he had to remember that Theo was younger, likely less experienced, and under enormous pressure that Dorian was probably adding to.

He got up as well and pushed through the sea of people to the doorway. Theo was already halfway across the courtyard; dammit, he was fast. "Theo!" Dorian called, but Theo didn't turn around. So Dorian did the one thing he'd sworn he'd never do: he ran after the man he cared for. "Theo, please, I'm sorry," Dorian said, grabbing his arm.

Theo turned. In the dark it was hard to see his expression, but Dorian didn't care. He cupped Theo's face in his hands and kissed him. Theo inhaled sharply but Dorian held his lips against Theo's and caressed his cheekbones with his thumbs. Theo relaxed and kissed back, and after a moment his arms wrapped around Dorian.

Then he pulled back and caught his breath. "You don't get to keep doing this," Theo said quietly, but he held Dorian close to him. "You don't get to keep me at arms' length until nobody's watching. You don't get to keep telling me it's for my own good, and then kiss me and hope I forget," Theo said. Dorian tried to say something, but Theo trailed a finger over his lower lip. Dorian shuddered at the touch. "I know you mean well. But I'm an adult, and I'm the Inquisitor. Let me make my choices and deal with the consequences if there are to be any."

It was a frightening thought, what Theo was suggesting. Vulnerability was a weakness in Tevinter, and Dorian had learned early on never to show weakness of any sort. To care about another person was to be vulnerable; but how could caring so deeply for someone who obviously cared for you the same way, be a weakness?

"This is a lot for me to get used to," Dorian finally admitted, and even that was hard to say. He was admitting his vulnerability to the one person who could hurt him the most.

"Me too," Theo said with a slight chuckle. He kissed Dorian's forehead lightly. "I'm not suggesting we snog on the Skyhold Throne for all to see," he said.

"Pity," Dorian managed. He'd never quite been this undone in his life, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

Theo laughed softly. "I'm all for keeping it classy. Just not so… reserved. I want to be able to talk with you and laugh with you without worrying if anyone's watching."

"That sounds fair," Dorian managed. "I'm sure it is rather difficult for you to keep your hands off of me, after all," he added.

"You have no idea," Theo said. He held Dorian closer. "You're the first person to really see me. I've never had that before, which I guess is why I'm so eager to be with you," he said.

Dorian closed his eyes. He wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy such simple pleasures as much as he currently was. And if he was able to see Theo for who he was, Dorian realized that Theo appreciated him for simply being Dorian. All his life Dorian's worth had been based on his bloodline, his talent, and his potential, and all so long as he did what a good Altus was supposed to do. When his father disowned him he began to base his own worth in his pride and conviction. But to Theo, he was unconditionally Dorian.

Dorian barely noticed when people passed them, either coming from or heading to the tavern. People were seriously going to talk. But it was a small price to pay for holding and kissing the one person who truly saw and care for him. Not a failed Altus, not an outsider, but just Dorian.

Author's Note: Over 100 reviews? Do you all know how seriously awesome you are? Because you are. If you know it, it won't hurt to hear it again, right? So you're awesome!

I don't usually do this, but I have to admit I was listening to the song "Distance" by Christina Perri, and so much of that song makes me thing Theo and Dorian. It's very sweet, and his this almost-requited love vibe to it, and it's what gave this chapter its title.

Many thanks to the new follows and favorites, and to: AgapeErosPhilia, FenZev, Melysande, karebear, abbiebubble, Bathorybabe, olivebg, deagh, mille libri, Yvaine-star, and dr. kitten! Also, congrats in order to abbiebubble, who met the Queen! How awesome! Thank you all for the feedback and constructive pointers. It only makes the story better, and I mean it when I say I can't do it without you fantastic people. So thank you x1000000000!