Chapter 21: Dearest Father
Dorian was actually a bit disappointed. He'd been expecting glowing red eyes and claws; or at the very least, frown lines as deep as the Abyssal Rift. But Bann Alick Trevelyan was quite normal. In fact, Dorian could see a strong resemblance between the Bann and his youngest son, though he wasn't sure he would be telling Theo that any time soon. Theo sat stiffly on his throne, hands gripping the arms tightly and his face a shade of green that could rival that of his mark.
"So that's the cause of his infamous daddy issues," Varric muttered beside him. The dwarf stroked his chin and Dorian would be willing to bet plenty of coin that the dwarf had a story forming in his head right about then. "I thought he'd be bigger. More imposing."
Dorian hid his smile. "Sometimes our monsters are bigger in our own minds," he said, remembering his own father. At least he hadn't had to face Halward in front of what seemed like half of Thedas. He didn't envy Theo one bit right about now as Bann Trevelyan pledged the allegiance and armies of Ostwick to the Inquisition. The Bann's voice was clear and carried through the hall. Dorian had always assumed his voice would be stern and gravelly.
At last the final echoes of his speech died out. Theo licked his lips and glanced over at Josephine, who just smiled pleasantly. Dorian was glad that she was going to make him talk to his father. "The Inquisition thanks you for your support and… accepts your allegiance," Theo said at last. Only Dorian, and possibly Bann Trevelyan, could hear the faint wavering in his voice. Theo stood, maintaining his composure somehow, and exited to his quarters.
Dorian waited while the crowds thinned out. Varric walked away and Josephine was busy conversing with the Chantry mothers who clucked at her like worried hens. How the woman could stand it, Dorian had no idea. Josephine caught his eye and smiled. "Revered Mothers, perhaps we might discuss this while walking the grounds?" she asked in a tone that was more command than suggestion. She managed to steer them toward the door and cast a backward glance at Dorian.
He glanced around, but most had left and those that remained were busy in discussion with one another, so he knocked lightly on Theo's door. There was no response, but he tried the lever and the door opened. He slipped through quickly, shutting it behind him and casting a simple cantrip to stop the lever.
He'd not been in Theo's private quarters before; but before, their relationship had still been in early stages that required the utmost propriety. Not that Dorian was about to put Theo in an awkward position; but he wasn't so timid about approaching him, either.
At the base of the staircase leading up to the bedroom he knocked again. No response. He waited before knocking once more. "If I need to sleep out here tonight I will," he called through the door. "Though it might put me in a foul mood, and it would be entirely your fault," he added. He didn't relish the thought of how the stone floor and the cold would feel, and he shuddered to think what would happen if Theo called his bluff.
At last the door opened a crack and he could see Theo peering through at him. "You wouldn't. Your hair would never survive," Theo said.
"So are you going to just stand there, or will you let me in?" Dorian asked.
"Only if you brought wine."
"Venhedis. I didn't know you were going to expect it of me," Dorian said with a smile, though he was inwardly cursing himself for not thinking of it. "Shall I return later with said libation in hand?"
Theo opened the door fully and shook his head. "No, I'll just send for some." He headed up the stairwell into his room and Dorian followed. The room was huge, with cavernous ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the mountains. Theo headed out onto a balcony and leaned on the stone railing. It was chilly and Dorian shivered, though Theo didn't seem to mind the cold as the breeze ruffled his dark hair. "I felt like I was five again. Or fifteen. It doesn't matter. I don't know how I managed to keep myself together."
Dorian wrapped his arms around Theo as much to keep warm as to comfort him. "You're not the frightened and bitter young man you were at the Conclave," Dorian said. "If you were still that person then you would have crumbled the moment your father was announced. You've grown and come into your own in a way neither you nor your father could have anticipated." Theo shrugged. "Rather than fall back on that person, you relied on who you've become."
Theo chuckled. "Some days I wonder who I'm becoming, or if I'm still just… fumbling toward something in the darkness."
"I think we all are, to a degree," Dorian said, squeezing him. He led him back inside where it was warmer. The fire was dying, so Dorian flicked his wrist at the hearth and a small ball of flame surged forth and caught on the logs. Theo flopped on his back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Dorian perched next to him. "You accepted his alliance. That's very adult of you."
"If I didn't Josephine might have added my name to tomorrow's execution list," Theo said. "I wasn't sure who I was more afraid of: my father or her."
"What do you intend to do about him?"
"Lock myself up here until he leaves," Theo said simply. "I'll have my meals brought, move the war councils up here, and if you moved yourself in, I'd have everything I need in one place," he said with a wistful smile.
Dorian reclined beside him and stroked his wavy hair. "You flatter me, Amatus," he said fondly even as his heart skipped a beat. Where in the Void had that come from? He took a deep breath. "But as lovely as that plan sounds, it makes you a hypocrite and a coward."
Theo sat up, leaning on his elbows. "Why should I have to face him?" he asked, his cheeks a blotchy crimson. "He never wanted me in the first place. And now that I've actually become someone he cares?"
Dorian shook his head. "You made me speak with my father," he said, remembering his shock and anger from so many weeks ago when his own father had surprised him. "You told me I would regret not telling him how I felt, and you were right." He grimaced. "It wasn't pleasant, but I did rather enjoy telling him where he could place his staff."
That brought a smile to Theo's face. "Would you do it with me?" he asked, turning his pleading green eyes on Dorian. "I can't do this alone," he added.
Dorian met Theo's gaze. "You are the Inquisitor. You've closed a breach, taken down Tevinter Magisters, recruited the Grey Wardens of Orlais, and walked out of the Fade twice." Theo sighed. "My point is, my dear, I faced my own father without having all of those qualifications behind me. I think you can face yours." He punctuated his statement with a kiss.
Theo could get used to waking up with Dorian in his bed here in Skyhold. The morning sunlight was warm and golden on Dorian's skin, and his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he dreamed. Theo stretched and sat up, then began searching for his clothes in the pile they'd ended up in on the floor before he and Dorian made love again that night.
Alick Trevelyan had made it clear that he'd never wanted Theo. However, Dorian wanted him. The Inquisition wanted him. This was his life now, and the longer he lived it the more comfortable and secure with it he became.
Still, he'd once told Dorian that there would always be a masochistic part of him that cared about what his father thought.
Theo sighed and climbed out of bed. It was still early and he was growing to enjoy mornings in Skyhold before most people were up and about. He left Dorian to his dreams and headed downstairs. Josephine would probably be up, working on the last details of the execution; if she slept, he did not know.
Sure enough she was at her desk, hardly a hair out of place, and her eyes bright as usual. "Good morning, Inquisitor," she said with a smile, which quickly faded. "I confess, this may be one of the most difficult things I've done, and I once trained as a bard," she said as she stared at the scroll she was writing in her immaculate, flowing script. She set the quill in the inkpot. "You're up early."
"And yet you still beat me to it," Theo said with a grin. He sighed. "Josephine… Why didn't you tell me that my 'personal guest' was my father of all people?" he asked. It had weighed on him since he first saw his father approach the throne.
She sighed as well and leaned back in her chair. Now that he'd broken the ice, she allowed herself to look as tired as she surely felt. "I did try," she said at last. "I tried to be smooth and to let you know, but you'd just returned from Adamant. You were tired, and many people wanted your attentions. First, as an ambassador organizing your affairs, it would not have been fair to grant the Bann an audience when I would not have done that for anyone else. Second… perhaps I did not say anything because it was your father. You had to face him if you were holding court. You couldn't run away, because you knew I'd hunt you down," she said with a hint of a smile.
She did have a point. "Actually I think that would be less terrifying than seeing him again," he joked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain of that, Theo?" she asked. She sounded casual enough, but there was that hint of a challenge to her voice that made him not so sure, so he just thanked her and left, promising to be ready for the execution later on. For now, he needed some time to himself.
He sat in the garden for a long while before he heard a door creak open. He sighed; so much for his peace. He pasted on a smile and stood. He turned to see his father leaving the tiny chapel just off the garden. Theo froze and his eyes darted around the garden; where could he hide, and could he move without being seen?
But it was too late. Bann Trevelyan spied his son and strode toward him. Theo stood rooted to the ground as if he'd grown there like the trees. He kept his smile pasted on even as he felt like vomiting. A few paces away, then a few less, and then his father stood right in front of him.
Theo had always thought his father was an imposing man, taller than he was and able to glower down at him in disappointment and expectation. But this close, standing on equal ground, Theo was actually the taller man, though not by much. Perhaps in the months he'd been leading the Inquisition he'd learned to stand more confidently. He cleared his throat. "Good morning. I trust your prayers went well?" It was an effort to keep his voice steady.
"Quite. I had a lovely conversation with your Revered Mother Giselle, and Andraste and the Maker reward the faithful," he said. His cool hazel-green eyes swept over Theo, who tried not to slouch and look away. "You've been quite faithful," he added with a half smile.
"Um. Yes," Theo said, even as he knew it was a lie. He couldn't remember the last time he'd prayed, and the last time he'd been in a Chantry was Haven; that had doubled as a command center more than a place of worship and prayer. The reality was that in these last months he'd grown to rely on and believe in his luck more than anything. But how to tell that to his father, so devout he would give up his child to the Chantry?
"The truth is, I'd woken early in the hopes that I might find you before anyone else did," Bann Trevelyan said. "I prayed I'd have the time to speak with you without other company present." He smiled. "I'm pleased to see you looking well."
Theo looked at the ground, his father's stare finally proving too difficult for him to bear. If Bann Trevelyan knew the half of what Theo had been through… "Thank you," Theo said at last, rather than get into it. He wasn't sure he wanted his father to know where he'd been or what he'd done. Dorian, Varric, Cassandra, the Bull… those were the people who had been there for him. His father had sent him off to the Conclave and had turned away.
Bann Trevelyan sat on one of the benches and gestured for Theo to join him. Theo's mind told him run! Run now! But his legs refused to obey and he found himself seated next to his father. He scooted as far away as he could manage. "News of your reputation has spread over Theadas; even in Ostwick we've heard of your judgments and your deeds in Andraste's name." He stared at the sky. "My son. The Herald of Andraste," he said in an almost dreamy voice that sent a tingle of annoyance through Theo.
Theo sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I've never liked that nickname," he said. "Call it luck, call it divine providence or whatever you like," he said. "But I was in the right place at the right time."
"Because the Maker willed it so," Bann Trevelyan said. "And to think, you didn't want to go to the Conclave!" He was smiling, and there was a touch of laughter in his voice.
Theo turned his hand over and stared at the glowing green mark there. He hardly felt it anymore, and yet it still defined everything that he was. His father stared at it as well. "You're right, I didn't," he said softly. "Sometimes I still wish I wasn't there." He dared a glance at his father, whose brow was furrowed in confusion. "You never asked what I wanted," he said. "Ever. And now you're making the assumption that I should be grateful to you for all of this?" he asked, gesturing to the high walls and turrets of Skyhold. He stood. "I have an execution to attend to," he said and left. He felt his father's gaze on his back as he stalked back inside.
"Are you sure you want to see your countryman executed?" Theo stood in the hidden alcove with Dorian, searching the mage's face for any hint of displeasure.
Dorian shook his head. His hand drifted to Theo's face and cupped his cheek for a moment. Theo closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. "You don't need my approval," Dorian told him. "Look at me," he ordered, and Theo opened his eyes. "You are the Inquisitor. This is how you saw fit to deal with Eremond."
"But he's another Tevinter," Theo said. He didn't know why he felt the need to have Dorian's approval on this, but it probably had something to do with his father. He didn't know that Bann Trevelyan would approve of such an unmerciful sentence; but he also didn't want to change his mind and be seen as weak.
"Tevinter disavowed him, same as Alexius. Eremond is a nobody. And before that, he was Venatori. He's one less madman who can make his way back to my homeland." Dorian gave him a light kiss. "Remember what we went through in the Western Approach because of him. Remember who you are, and don't worry about who he wanted you to be," he said.
The courtyard was packed with people eager to see Skyhold's first execution. Theo nearly felt ill; he'd sentenced a man to die, and his own father was watching. Josephine had mentioned, on the way out, that Bann Trevelyan would like more time with his son. Theo didn't doubt that his father was here somewhere, watching. Theo stood on the makeshift scaffold with Josephine and stared out at the crowd below him. Dorian stood near the front and nodded slightly. Varric and Iron Bull stood near Dorian. Theo didn't even look for his father.
Eremond was led out from the dungeons dressed in a rough tunic, barefoot, with his once-coiffed hair hanging in his face. He struggled against the guards. "Do you know who I am?" he shouted. "I am Magister Eremond! I demand you release me to Tevinter!" he screamed over and over again. It took three guards to haul him up on the scaffold. One man kicked Eremond's legs out from under him, forcing him to his knees, while another shoved his shoulders forward so his neck was on the chopping block. And still, he squirmed and struggled. Theo couldn't tell if it was arrogance or fear.
The masked headsman stood nearby, his massive axe resting easily on the scaffold, honed blade gleaming in the morning sun. Theo didn't know who it was; it could have been anyone, really, and he was glad he didn't know. He didn't think he could meet the eyes of the executioner if he knew.
Josephine handed him a scroll and he unrolled it. His hands felt numb and he focused on the parchment rather than Eremond. He cleared his throat. "Livius Eremond of Vyrantium: you have been charged with apostasy, blood magic, and willfully serving Corypheus, enemy of the Inquisition and all of Thedas." Damn, Josephine was an excellent writer. He took a deep breath. "You willingly made maleficar of Grey Warden mages and attempted to raise an army of demons. For this, the sentence, as pronounced by me, Inquisitor Theodane Trevelyan, is death." Theo handed the scroll back to Josephine and made himself stare at Eremond.
The headsman hefted his axe and his heavy footfalls thudded across the wood. Eremond suddenly stopped struggling as the reality of his impending death set in. His dark eyes met Theo's for one moment, and Theo made himself stare, cold and hard at the man. Eremond looked terrified as he realized that this was not some scare tactic; the Inquisitor meant business.
The headsman raised the axe. Silence. Then the blade whistled through the air as it came down with a metallic clang against the stone chopping block, and Eremond's head rolled onto the scaffold as blood poured down and soaked the boards.
Theo swallowed against the bitter lump in his throat. "Let it be known what happens to enemies of the Inquisition," he said, and though it was soft, it still rang out over the silent gathering. He turned, descended the scaffolding, entered Skyhold, and promptly found a place to throw up.
Author's Note: The title of this chapter is an homage to FenZev and her epic Hawke tale of the same title. Special thanks to Karebear, with whom I had a conversation about Mother Giselle and decided to work in our favorite meddling Mother; and to Spazapho, who PM'd me with a comment about Josephine which inspired me to include the conversation they had in this chapter. This is why I love this community, because the dialogue that can result can inspire and result in changes and tweaks that improve the story! So thank you!
Thanks also to all who took the time to read and to review chapter 20, and those who are starting the story and reviewed earlier chapters. The feedback and resulting dialogue are excellent, and I enjoy the opportunity to engage in discussion with you. Thank you again so much!