"I need to get out of here."

Dorian looked up from his book at Aeric, who was playing the lute beside him as they sat out on the balcony. Aeric's temper was more even when he played. Dorian suspected the music allowed Aeric an outlet for his emotions beyond tears and shouting and fists against the wall.

It had been just over two weeks since Aeric had been cured. As the days wore on, his ability to control the floods of emotion improved until he was almost his old self for hours at a time. Visitors had begun to arrive, little by little. Sera and Cole were by far the most frequent, sometimes arriving at the same time. Sera pointedly stayed as far away from Cole as possible, but otherwise grinned with a mixture of elation and relief whenever she talked to Aeric. Cole's presence seemed to calm Aeric's emotions, whispered phrases that only Aeric could hear, soothing him when a particularly bad flood came upon him.

Sera was there now, surprisingly quiet as she lay on her stomach on the other side of Aeric, kicking her feet in the air as she scribbled in a journal. She glanced up at Aeric as well when he spoke, and frowned. "What, out of the room? Well, go on, then. Door's there."

Aeric shook his head. "Out of Skyhold. A mission or something."

"I don't know if you've noticed, amatus," Dorian began with a chuckle, "but you've already killed Corypheus. You can afford a rest."

"I know," Aeric replied, his hands pausing in their movements across the lute's strings. "But… I hate this feeling of just waiting for the next flood to come. I need to do something."

Sera sat up and grinned. "With arrows, yeah?"

Aeric gave a little laugh. "Yes, with arrows."

"I'm certain something can be arranged," Dorian said, marking his page with a piece of string before closing his book. "There are still rifts in the region, after all."

"Who else we bringin'?" Sera asked. "Can we bring Blackwall? He's been no fun lately, always off with Miss Priss Tevinter."

Dorian laughed. "Jealous that my ex-wife stole away your drinking companion?" With sudden suspicion, he raised an eyebrow at her. "Or is it the other way around?"

"Pfft, no," Sera scoffed, though Dorian noted the touch of pink at the tips of her ears. "Your ex is nice for lookin', but she's too noble-y. Noble for three, she is."

"Well, you're not wrong."

Aeric stretched and got to his feet. "I'll go talk to Josephine and Cullen now. We can retrieve Blackwall on our way to the stables."

As Aeric put away his lute and left down the stairs, Dorian hurried to catch Sera before she left as well. "Sera, a word?"

Sera's shoulders tensed as she turned. They hadn't spoken alone since Dorian had first returned from Redcliffe with a Tranquil Aeric. "You'll have more than one, I'd wager."

Dorian gave a little rueful smile. "I will at that." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "We haven't spoken on what happened between us, when Aeric was first made Tranquil."

Sera nodded. "Creepy, that was."

"Right." Dorian crossed his arms over his chest. "The thing is, I was not in my right mind then, and I acted poorly."

Shuffling her feet, Sera shrugged. "Wasn't just you. Said some things too. Whenever anyone says things without thinkin', it always comes out stupid. I was stupid and I hate it." She nudged one of Aeric's pots next to the hearth with her toe. "I know he's not the same as, you know… them. Can see it plain as day. He feels things, even if you're not lookin' hard enough to see it all the time."

"Yes, precisely," Dorian agreed. He pressed on, wanting the conversation over with. He hated apologies. "At any rate, I should not have reacted that way, and I'm sorry."

"Same for me, yeah?" She gave a thin laugh. "So can we stop with the serious talk now? Makes my nose itch."

Dorian nodded. "Yes, I'd rather we be done with this now as well."

She gave him a soft push on the shoulder. "Look at us. Had our first squabble!"

"Squabble?" Dorian asked, going to his side of the bed to begin packing a small bag.

Sera plopped herself down on the edge of the bed and watched as he packed his things carefully. "Vineyface is all full of sap and fluff, you know?" she began, explaining in her usual roundabout way. "Told me once he thought of me like a little sister. Sap and fluff." She leaned over her knees, staring down at her feet. "Thing is, though, he has a little sister. Or… had? He hasn't said which yet, but I think I know which one. Painful stuff to be askin' him, though." Sera paused and shook her head. "Anyway, little sister. Viney loves her. Proper loves her. And if I'm his little sister too…" Her cheeks turned red then, her eyes too bright. "Never had family that cared before."

Dorian gave a little smile. "Neither have I, before Aeric."

"Your family's a right piece of shite," Sera said with a nod. "But Viney loves you too, so it's all right, innit? Proper loves you. So I figure, that makes you and me family too, yeah? And families squabble."

Pausing in his packing, Dorian looked down at Sera, smiling a little. "So, you're saying our fighting - or whatever you want to call it - is a good thing?"

Sera shook her head. "Not a good thing. Words in anger are almost never good. But it happens, right? You say a thing and it's no good, or I say a thing and it's definitely no good. And we squabble. But since it's you and me and Viney, it's all right." She gave a little laugh. "We can have Warden Scruffypants and Miss Priss Tevinter in, too. Don't know your ex worth shite, but she seems all right for a nob. You like her, and that's good enough for me."

The smile on Dorian's face widened. "You're being surprisingly soft, Sera. Has Aeric's - what was it? - 'sap and fluff' rubbed off on you, perhaps?"

"Shut it, you," Sera retorted, but she was grinning. "And yeah, maybe he's rubbed off. So what? There are worse people to be gettin' things from. None better, even."

"You'll get no argument from me." Dorian nodded towards the stairs. "But go on. You'd best get packed as well. Aeric seems eager to be away on this impromptu mission of ours."

With a nod, Sera rolled off the bed and waved over her shoulder as she went down the first set of stairs. As she left, the smile lingered on Dorian's lips. Family, huh? he thought as he finished his packing. He thought about the members of the Inquisition, about Aeric and Livia and the rest. About the word 'family', and how it was no longer a word of obligation as he had grown up thinking it was, but of responsibility. Of belonging. I suppose we are.

ooo

As they traveled out toward the Exalted Plains, Aeric and Dorian rode beside each other. Dorian watched Aeric curiously, ready to call the others to stop if a flood came upon his beloved, and he noticed Aeric had appeared distracted since leaving Skyhold.

"That scowl on your face seems permanently affixed there," Dorian spoke up, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Probably," Aeric replied, his eyes twinkling as he glanced Dorian's way. "It has been like that most of my life, I'm told."

"Something bothering you?"

Aeric gave a little nod, but was quiet for a few moments before he finally answered. "I'll have to judge your father soon. When we return, most likely."

Dorian blinked in surprise, then twisted the reins of his horse tightly in his hands. "I see."

"Josephine said she received word from Archon Radonis himself asking about him," Aeric went on, looking distantly toward the horizon. "It would appear there is concern that we may be holding a Tevinter magister against his will. Josephine doubts Radonis will do anything for now - he owes us a favor after we wiped out the Venatori along the Imperium's borders - but it's better if we deal with your father sooner rather than later." As he spoke, Dorian noticed that Aeric's hands were also twisting in his hart's reins, his knuckles going white as they clenched.

"If you're worried what might I think about you judging my father, don't be." Dorian reached across to touch Aeric gently on the arm, but when he continued, there was only quivering anger in his voice. "That fucking bastard tore you apart and made you suffer. It's unforgivable. Whatever you decide for him, he absolutely deserves it."

"You still love him." Aeric turned his head, his gaze not accusing or judging, but understanding. Part of Dorian wished that Aeric would look at him accusingly instead. The elf's piercing eyes made him feel as if everything inside him were laid bare.

Dorian's lip curled, angry - at himself again, at his father. "I hate him," he snarled. "I hate him more than I have ever hated anything or anyone. For what he did to you? For what he wanted to do to me? I hate him more than I hated Corypheus." It was an effort for Dorian to calm himself, and he gritted his teeth as he exhaled sharply. "If only that meant I stopped caring about him."

"It's never that simple." Dorian could see his own anger reflected on Aeric's face, in the tightening of his brow and the flare of his nostrils. "Someone else should judge him," Aeric muttered with obvious restraint to keep a level voice. "I'm hardly unbiased."

"Be biased," Dorian urged. "If my father wanted a fair trial for his actions, he bloody well shouldn't have attacked the leader of the Inquisition." Aeric's hands clenched and unclenched around the reins again, his face reddening. "Is another flood coming, amatus?" he asked gently. "Don't keep it in."

Pulling on the reins, Aeric drew his hart to a stop and leapt off. Dorian called out to the others to wait before he dismounted to follow after Aeric.

The elf was quick in the snowy mountain woods. Though Aeric had only had a few moments' head start, the trail of footprints in the snow extended far ahead of Dorian. He ran to catch up, his breath white and thick in the cold. There was a yell. Dorian's feet quickened, careful not to slip in the snow.

When he found Aeric, the elf was pounding his fist into a tree, over and over. With each punch, Aeric gave a wordless shout, hoarse with anger and pain. Streaks of blood stained the white bark.

"Aeric?" Dorian said tentatively as he approached.

Aeric didn't turn, and continued hitting the tree. "Stay back there," he grunted. "I don't trust myself."

Dorian stepped closer. "You wouldn't hurt me."

Aeric did turn then, his eyes wide and full of tears. "How do you know? I can't control any of it! I don't even know."

"You ran to the ass-end of the forest to punch a tree, amatus," Dorian said, taking another step toward him. "Hardly something one would do if they were out of control. Even in your current state, you're in command of yourself."

"It doesn't feel that way," Aeric muttered through gritted teeth. Without warning, he spun back around and hit the tree hard enough to make the branches shake. Clumps of snow fell around them, knocked loose from the blow. "Fuck! I hate this!" Another punch. "I was hoping we'd be fighting something by the time this fucking-" Another punch. "-shit-" Another. "-happened!"

"Aeric…"

"I get angry, and it blows up into this!" He scowled down at the bloody knuckles of his right hand, then punched the tree again, this time with his left. "I get sad, and I'm a sobbing mess! I can't even think about my own sister without the risk of falling apart!" Even as he spoke the words, his voice cracked. With a strangled cry, he slammed his fist into the tree again. "Fuck!"

Dorian edged closer, but didn't touch him yet, in case he was too upset to want comforting. "Amatus, it's only been two weeks. I'd hardly expect you to be fully recovered already. Things will get better."

"And if they don't?" Aeric shook the branches again with the force of his fist. "What happens if I'm like this forever?"

"Then you'll beat it into submission, as you do with everything else," Dorian replied, his face serious despite the slight joke in his words. He reached out a hesitant hand, fingers upon Aeric's elbow. "Now, if you're quite done your pummeling, would you please let me heal your hands? If you haven't broken them already, that is."

Aeric smirked as he flexed his bloody fingers. "Still work." With a sniff, he held his hands out for Dorian.

"Small blessings." Dorian's hands came alight with bright green magic. Weaving the energy gently over the wounded knuckles, Dorian looked up from his work for a moment to gaze into Aeric's deep blue eyes. When he spoke, it was in a low rumble. "Whatever comes, know that I'll be with you to help you through it."

Letting out a long breath, Aeric nodded, the rage and frustration beginning to drain from his eyes, slowly but surely.

"There, you see?" Dorian said with a little smile. "Beaten already." He returned his attention to his healing. Before long, the skin on Aeric's hands had knit together, leaving fresh olive skin. Dorian bent to kiss the tops of Aeric's knuckles. "Better?" he asked as he straightened.

Aeric nodded again, brightening in one of his eyes-only smiles.

"Now," Dorian said, pulling the elf toward the mountain road. "Shall we? I hear there are demons out there, begging to be shot with your arrows. Yours precisely. If Sera gets there first, I'll be terribly disappointed in you."

Aeric's answering chuckle was an exceptional reward, small but rich with mirth. "I'll do my best, ma'nehn."

ooo

It was bad enough that their venture into the Exalted Plains led them to a flooded area where they had to wade in thigh-deep water. ("Why do you hate me, amatus? Why?") Worse still were the countless wyverns scattered throughout the area. Worst of all, however, was the dragon, spitting lightning at them while they were all half-swimming between slivers of dry land.

Dorian would have preferred demons.

"Whose bloody idea was it to bring two archers to fight a dragon?" he shouted as he slung fireballs at the beast and narrowly avoided a tangle of energy hurtling past.

Aeric flipped backwards onto an outcropping of stone nearby. "I think we're wearing it down," he said in an infuriatingly calm voice. Of course. Dorian rolled his eyes. Of all times, when it would have been appropriate to be screaming and furious, Aeric was as cool as a spring breeze.

Sera darted by them, cackling as she hurled a flask of pitch at the dragon. "Less chat, more splat!"

Dorian twirled his staff, dissipating the electricity that buzzed in the air, as Aeric knelt to take careful aim. Close to the dragon, Blackwall threw all his weight behind his shield and barreled into the giant beast, slashing with his sword as he went. With the barest nod of Aeric's head, Sera materialized from the other side of the dragon, the two archers shooting with the full force of their bows, the strings loosed with a resounding twang. The dragon staggered, stumbled. As the battle waged on, walls of hot flame erupting from Dorian's staff, a barrage of arrows from Sera and Aeric, well-placed slices from Blackwall's sword, the creature did indeed seem to be wearing down.

In a panic, the dragon took to the skies. The force of its wings nearly bowled them over as it launched itself from the ground.

"Watch for it!" Blackwall yelled. "It's coming back around!"

As it circled, its first shot was another ball of electricity, snapping as it whipped through the air toward them. Instead of running like the others, Dorian spun his staff once more, etching a glyph in the space before him. Throwing his arms wide, he let loose a barrage of energy that flew off in all directions, drawing out the electricity, unraveling the ball into nothing.

"You could have just dodged," Aeric called out at him with a laugh from across one of the pools.

Dorian winked. "You know me, always a showman."

"Hey!" Sera shouted. "Here it comes again!"

Yet instead of a ball of energy, the dragon itself came hurtling at them. The others scattered, as one burst of energy erupted from the dragon's mouth. A shriek pierced the air, Sera's leg caught by a tendril of electricity. The beast swooped in lower as it approached, seeming to hone in on Dorian in particular, chasing after him as he ran. "Vishante kaffas!" The dragon's breath hot on his back, Dorian barely managed to stay ahead of it. He could feel its mouth opening without seeing it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end with the gathering electricity.

"Ma'nehn!" Aeric appeared out of nowhere, tackling Dorian in a crushing embrace. A bright purple barrier, warm and strangely comforting, flickered around them. A blast of electricity. It showered over them, crackling, snapping like a thousand whips, but the barrier held, shielding them from harm. Aeric curled around Dorian, the elf's weight protectively against him as Aeric pressed him to the ground.

Outside the barrier, the dragon reared and bit at them. Even still, the barrier held, sparkling like amethysts as it held the giant creature at bay. Blackwall bashed his shield into the dragon then. Another burst of flame from one of Sera's bombs. With the dragon distracted, the barrier fell away, allowing the two men to rise to their feet.

Dorian took a moment to gape at Aeric. "Maker's breath, what was that? It… it wasn't me."

Aeric shook his head, but directed his attention to the staggering dragon. "Later. Let's finish this."

With a nod, the two of them launched themselves back into the fray, arrows and fire alike tearing at the dragon's flesh. Dorian and Aeric stood side-by-side, attacking with a synchronous harmony. Sera limped as she ran by, arrows flying three at a time into the dragon's neck. Knocking into it with his shield, Blackwall went in for the killing blow, finally felling the beast with a squelching slice down its neck.

All of them stood around panting to catch their breaths, until Sera felt to the ground, clutching her leg. "Shite!" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Fuck! It burns like fire!"

Dorian went to Sera's side, his hands aglow with creation magic, until he saw the electrical burn on her leg, raw and red and blistered. He sucked in a breath through his teeth in a sympathetic noise. "That looks bad," he muttered. "And healing isn't exactly my forte, you see."

"I don't care, just do something!" Sera snapped, even as Dorian was already weaving healing magic over her wound.

"Damn it, you fool girl," Blackwall said gruffly as he took the stopper from a potion and held it out for her to drink. "You've got to be more careful. Quicker."

"Quicker than you," she grunted with a faint smile. "Ah, shite, this hurts."

Dorian wasn't making much headway. It was worse than any burn he had ever healed before. For all he knew, he might have been making things worse somehow.

After a moment, there was a nudge at his shoulder. Dorian looked up to find Aeric frowning above him. "What is it, Aeric?" Dorian asked absently.

"Let me try."

"Let you try what?" Dorian's brow furrowed as Aeric knelt beside him. Aeric nudged him again, and Dorian shifted aside to give him space.

Aeric closed his eyes for a moment, holding out his hands over Sera's wounded leg in much the same way Dorian had been only a second ago. When Aeric opened his eyes again, his hands came alight with more bright purple energy.

"Viney?" Sera's voice was small and shaking. "What…?"

The violet light poured into the burnt flesh, a careful guidance of energy repairing the wound. Aeric's movements were fumbling, inexperienced, but Dorian watched with rapt attention as the elf knotted the magic in a way he had only seen healers do. "Fasta vass," Dorian breathed. "That's remarkable!"

"No, it's not!" Sera shook her head vehemently, making Aeric grunt in annoyance at the movement. "People who aren't mages shouldn't do magic! Why's he got magic now? I mean, his hand does the thing with the glowin', but that's it! He's not supposed to glow in other ways!"

Aeric sighed and looked up at her. "I think it's done. How does it feel?"

Sera's eyes filled with tears. "It feels fine! But it's not supposed to feel fine, is it? I have a potion, Dorian does his shite healin', and I limp back to camp, yeah? That's how it's supposed to be! You're not supposed to do friggin' magic!"

She and Aeric stared at each other until Sera cast her eyes away with a tearful huff.

"It's the spirit," Dorian murmured. "In the same way spirits of Faith grant the Seekers abilities."

Aeric looked up at Dorian and nodded. "I knew I could do it, somehow." He bit his lip a little as he paused to think. "I'm not positive, but I think it only works on people I care deeply for. I don't think it would work on, say, Blackwall, for instance."

From Sera's other side, Blackwall barked a laugh. "Oh, well, thank you," he said in a wry voice. "Let's keep it platonic then."

Aeric blinked and glanced at the warrior. "Oh. I meant no offense."

"No, no," Blackwall chuckled again. "You've made your feelings very clear."

Sera got to her feet, glaring at all of them. "I don't care how it works. It's not supposed to work at all, yeah? Viney's not supposed to have magic!" And without another glance back at them, she ran off towards the camp.

With a sigh, Blackwall got to his feet. "I'll… go make sure she doesn't get eaten by a wyvern," he muttered before following after her.

While Aeric stared after their companions, Dorian watched the elf curiously. "Are you all right, amatus?"

"I've scared Sera again." Aeric beckoned Dorian to walk with him as they made their own way back to camp. As they went, Aeric nudged Dorian's hand with his in silent invitation, and Dorian took it. "She ran away that other time, after returning from Redcliffe."

Dorian squeezed his hand. "You remember that, do you? I wasn't sure."

"I remember everything," Aeric replied in a low voice. Dorian opened his mouth to ask about it further, but Aeric headed him off, shaking his head. Not something he was ready to talk about, then.

"Sera will get over it," Dorian told him, returning to the original topic and trying to be reassuring. "Between the rifts and the demons and the Breach, Sera's endured enough of the things she supposedly hates, and she's still with us. And her leg is healed, thanks to you." He cocked his head to one side to look at Aeric with a wondering expression. "How did you know how to heal like that? You performed more than a basic technique back there."

Aeric's brow furrowed as he pushed past some debris in the water. "I just knew. I… I think it's something the spirit knew."

"And now that the spirit is a part of you, you know it as well!" Dorian grinned. "Fascinating!" He gave Aeric's hand another squeeze. "You saved my skin back there too. Thank you. Did the spirit know how to create a barrier like that as well?" When Aeric replied with a rueful smirk, Dorian's smile quickly fell into a scowl. "Festis bei umo canavarum! You didn't know that would happen, did you? Fasta vass, you ran in front of a dragon! You could have been killed along with me!"

Aeric chuckled. "I would've thought of something."

"Smug bastard," Dorian muttered, but his lips began to curl upwards again.

When they reached the camp, the sun had begun to set, crawling down towards the horizon in an array of colors, purple and pink and orange. Sera and Blackwall were nowhere to be seen, but Dorian could hear Sera muttering to herself in her tent and the clatter of Blackwall's armor being removed in his. Eager to be out of their wet clothes, Dorian and Aeric went to their own tent to change before supper.

As he shirked his soaking wet boots, Dorian made several loud and disapproving grunts at the state of his socks and trousers. "Between this and the Fallow Mire, amatus, my boots and clothes are positively ruined. I do believe the Inquisition owes me a new wardrobe."

"Have a talk with our quartermaster when we reach Skyhold," Aeric said with a smile.

"Don't think I won't," Dorian muttered, the sentence punctuated with a sneeze that sounded like something between a yodel and a small explosion. Sniffling, he rubbed at his legs and feet, newly freed from the sopping clothing.

A blanket was suddenly around his shoulders, and Dorian smiled up at Aeric, who sat down beside him. "You're hopeless," the elf said, his voice heavy with fondness.

Dorian sniffed again. "It's because you keep dragging me to the coldest edges of the south, amatus."

"Let me warm you up, then. Make it up to you a little." Aeric opened his arms, and Dorian let himself be gathered into them.

They sat together in silence for a while, enjoying a moment of normalcy at last. Still, Dorian's ever-active mind wondered, and it wasn't long before more questions came to mind.

"What was it like?" Dorian asked without preamble, knowing Aeric would already be listening. "Casting magic for the first time, I mean. My magic comes from the Fade, as your Mark does, I'm assuming. But the barrier and the healing, that came from the spirit that's fused within you. Is that different?"

Aeric's lips tightened to a line as he considered the questions. "I don't know what it's like for you. What I cast was a feeling, more than a force, if that makes sense. With the Anchor, the energy rushes through me. It's not really a part of me. With this… It's the same feeling I had when I was four, meeting my sister for the first time. Or when I was eleven, and defending her from the slavers." As he paused, his arms tightened around Dorian, and he leaned to kiss his temple. "Or like the feeling I get when our eyes meet across a crowded room, and you smile. Like noticing your feet are cold, or watching you argue with your books late at night. Like sitting before you and seeing the moment when you realized I just told you I love you."

Dorian felt a bloom of emotion in his chest, and he gave a small smile. Thinking back to the moment when the spirit filled him, he recalled the way it communicated in memories. Treasured, impossibly precious memories, with one common emotion connecting them. "It feels like this, yes?" Dorian suggested, nestling himself as close as he could to Aeric. "Like the feeling of this moment, right now." He paused. "Though, I imagine it'd feel even better if someone was rubbing my poor frozen toes."

Aeric laughed. "Pressing your luck, are you?" He planted another kiss onto Dorian's forehead. "But yes, like this."

They fell silent again as Dorian considered other questions. One in particular bit at him, nagging in the way anxious curiosity always did. "Amatus?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you ever have floods that are happy?" Dorian stared down at the blanket, his gaze fixing on the weave of the little woolen fibers. "They're always sad or angry or frustrated or desiring. The floods are triggered by feeling those emotions, as I understand." He let out a huff of breath, annoyed at himself for being so bothered by this. "But I've never seen you have one that was joyous."

To his surprise, Aeric let out another laugh. "Not all emotions are outward."

Eyes narrowing, Dorian turned to look at Aeric. "Which means what, exactly?"

The smile Aeric gave him was bright, stunning in how it touched every inch of his face. "I've always had joyous floods. Before the spirit, before Tranquility. Ever since I've met you, ma'nehn." The elf's smile grew still wider. "Why do you think I gave you that name?"

Dorian tried to think of something to say, but couldn't for the sudden heat in his cheeks. Aeric laughed again, burying his face in the hollow between Dorian's neck and shoulder.

"Kaffas, I hate you, Aeric."

"I know, ma'nehn. I know."