Dorian meets with his father and Cassandra learns of the curse that is slowly killing the Inquisitor and the race to find a cure.
"It's certainly a lot quieter now that Alistair has gone home," Cullen said as he moved a piece on the chess table.
"Admit it, you miss it," Mahanon said with a smile as he pondered his own move.
"Perhaps a little," Cullen allowed.
"You and he were friends, weren't you? He mentioned something of the sort at one point. Did you get a chance to catch up and talk about something other than the end of the world?" Mahanon made his move.
"We did," Cullen replied. "We went through training together, though I was a year or two ahead of him and I was posted to the Ferelden Circle right after I completed my training. I believe he was recruited to the grey wardens soon after. I didn't see him again until he came to the Circle with Amell to rid it of the demons that had taken over." He moved his piece. "If he recognised me then he didn't say anything and I didn't recognise him until I was thinking about it afterwards."
"That doesn't really surprise me, you weren't exactly… yourself at that point," Mahanon said quietly.
Cullen smiled. "That's one way of putting it. Another was I was an arse who demanded that they kill all the mages who had been her friends and family. We didn't talk of that time though."
"What did you talk about? All the pretty ladies you bedded as Templar recruits?" he asked teasing.
Cullen laughed. "Maker, no. I was too shy to even talk to most women and he was just… oblivious. No, we mostly just reminisced about our days training together. About how he was always getting me into trouble over some scrape or other."
"Oh now you have to tell me!" Mahanon said. "At least one story!"
"Well, there was this one time," Cullen started, leaning back in his chair and steepling his hands. "The Chantry where we lived and trained was next to a druffalo paddock that a nearby farm used to send the beasts out to pasture. Alistair would tell me all these stories about what it was like growing up in Redcliffe, how it was so much better than it was there; he really hated learning to become a Templar. Some of the stories were obvious fabrications, but others were believable."
"If he hated it so much, why did he stay?" Mahanon asked.
"The options for a royal bastard aren't exactly grand," Cullen said. "His younger years were spent living and working in the stables at Redcliffe under the protection of his Uncle Teagan but political manoeuvring got him sent to the Templar order where he would be out of the way. Templars aren't supposed to have any claim on their family's fortunes; they cannot inherit. Perfect for a royal bastard to get him out of the way without killing him. Anyway he used to tell me about how the Arl of Redcliffe kept a few druffalo and how it was sport there to get blind drunk and attempt to push them over. Without letting the alphas send you sky high of course."
Mahanon snorted. "I have to get Bull to try that!" he declared, picturing it.
"He probably has the mass to be able to do so. Two teenage boys, on the other hand, less so. Nonetheless, Alistair was determined to have me pass this so-called rite of passage. Don't ask me how he did it, but he managed to steal a whole flagon of ceremonial wine from the Chantry. With that in hand he somehow convinced me that skipping classes that afternoon and sharing it with him was a good idea." Mahanon bit his lip to keep from grinning like a fool; it was hard to imagine Alistair doing something like that even before life had hardened him and it was near impossible to imagine it of stern Cullen.
"We spent the evening getting blind drunk on stolen wine until sunset, which, he told me, was the traditional time for druffalo pushing. So there we were, staggering through the fields towards the nearest druffalo where he got me to charge the thing and attempt to knock it over. It was futile, of course. I wound up with a mouthful of mud more often than not and Alistair was beside himself with laughter at my efforts even after out actions attracted the attention of an alpha druffalo and we were forced to run for it. I thought he was just laughing because I was unsuccessful so kept trying harder. But no. It was all a ruse, a practical joke he pulled on me. Which he proceeded to inform me while we were hightailing it out of there." Mahanon was laughing at this point, easily able to picture two drunk Templar lads running from an angry druffalo.
"Of course, we didn't even think of closing the gate behind us, so by morning we were tossed from our bunks, groaning with a hangover, to be sent out to the fields to round them all up again. How druffalo can travel so far over the space of a few hours is a mystery we never learned," Cullen finished, smiling despite himself.
"I kind of wish I had met you all earlier, just to get involved in such fun," Mahanon said.
"Oh, Maker, no! You and Sera pull more than enough pranks as it is for now, without adding young Alistair into the mix!" Cullen protested. Mahanon grinned, unable to deny that such a match up would be incredible! Though that grin soon turned to a frown when Cullen said, "It's your move."
"I know, I'm thinking!" Mahanon protested. It was a tactic to make him rush a move, he knew that, but he still felt pressured to make his move quickly now especially against such a competent player as Cullen was.
The tactic obviously worked as planned when Mahanon moved his piece, directly into the trap Cullen had set. "Check mate," he said with a smile.
Mahanon pouted. "You should play Bull," he said.
"Oh? Why's that? He doesn't exactly strike me as the kind who would like games that don't involve hitting things."
Mahanon laughed, "Well he doesenjoy hitting things, but he's actually pretty good at these kinds of games too."
"Inquisitor!"
Mahanon turned to see Dorian hurrying towards them, yet another book under his arm. He sighed softly to himself; he knew that Dorian approaching him in a hurry could only mean he had found something out about his illness and for once Mahanon had been succeeding in forgetting about it for a time. He didn't welcome the reminder. "What is it?" he asked.
Dorian glanced briefly to Cullen, then back to Mahanon before saying, "I think it's better I show you, if you're not too busy."
"It's all right. I lost anyway," he said with a rueful smile to Cullen who was staring wide-eyed at the pair of them. "You should go challenge Bull. He's probably just drinking in the tavern anyway."
"A bit early to be drinking isn't it?" Cullen asked with a frown.
Mahanon shrugged. "That's a shem custom, though he hasbeen drinking more than usual lately," he mused aloud. "Go challenge him. Give him something to do besides drinking Rocky under the table," he said with a wave before turning and following Dorian back inside the keep.
"You're a cruel man, Lavellan. Elf, whatever," Dorian said as he led the way inside then down the stairs to Mahanon's smoke room and Dorian's private study.
"Why?" he asked, though there was a smile playing about his lips.
Dorian glanced back over his shoulder and said, "I know that you've heard Bull playing mental chess with Solas and actually holding his own."
Mahanon grinned. "But Cullen hasn't," he said.
"Cruel."
Mahanon just laughed. He was actually looking forward to seeing how this played out. "So what is it you have to show me?" he asked, leaning against the table, arms crossed.
"Not so much show as tell, but I didn't think you would want to hear it in the gardens there." Mahanon nodded, glad that Dorian had at least that much discretion. "This family I found that was wiped out? They were doing research in the Western Approach."
"Research on what?" Mahanon asked.
"I'm not sure, the language is very archaic and there are no specifics; no one really wrote down what they were researching back then. It added to their mystery, though I think it more likely they were just afraid someone would steal their research and thus their fame."
"So you want us to go to the Western Approach?"
"Yes. And more specifically, I want to come with you."
Mahanon rose an eyebrow. "Why? Last time we were headed out that way you flatly refused to go. Not that I would have invited you, but you said the sun would ruin your complexion."
"Yes, that is an unfortunate side effect of travelling to such a sun-blasted land; my complexion has suffered enough with this wind and ice, I can't imagine a desert will do it much good. But sacrifices must be made! And I'm sure you would agree that finding a potential cure for you is far more important than what I hope will be a temporary discolouration of my complexion."
"You do know that I never intend for this to get out, that you won't be made famous or whatever for saving the Inquisitor or whatever you're imagining," Mahanon said.
That seemed to take Dorian aback for a moment. "Is that why you think I'm doing this?" he eventually asked. "For fame? I can assure you if that were my driving force I would not be down here on the arse of the world freezing my nipples off." Softer, he said, "I know you still don't trust me Lavellan and that's fine. But when I said that this was now my top priority I meant it. I joined the Inquisition and stayed here despite your wishes to the contrary because it was the right thing to do. And doing this, doing all I can to ensure the Inquisitor stays alive to continue fighting Corypheus? Well, I consider it even more important. Yes, I'm hoping I can show you that not all of my countrymen live up to their horrific reputations, but if I can keep you alive at least long enough to save us all, then that will be enough."
Mahanon nodded and looked away, feeling a pang of guilt. Logically he knew that Dorian wasn't like the slavers he had come across or any of the Venatori they fought, but it was so ingrained to not trust anyone who so blatantly loved Tevinter that it was hard to see that sometimes. "I'm sorry," he said. "Of course you can come if you wish it. Do you have any idea where abouts in the Western Approach we should be looking?"
"I do, in fact," Dorian said. Taking a scroll from the rack he unrolled it to reveal a map and used a book to hold down each corner. "Around about here," he said pointing to an area on it. "There's probably only ruins now. At least I'm hoping there are ruins and it's not all buried in sand. But that used to be their villa. If there's anything that can give us some hint as to what they were researching we'll find it there."
Mahanon nodded and was silent for a few seconds before saying, "It's a slim chance, isn't it?"
Dorian sighed. "Yes," he admitted, though Mahanon could tell he didn't really want to. "Things survive better in a desert climate than somewhere like the Hinterlands but it was still a long time ago, long enough for buildings to collapse. If any writings are to survive they would have to be kept in the perfect environmental conditions. It's a slim chance but right now it's the best lead I've found."
"Of course," Mahanon said. He pushed away from the table and said, "I'll call a council meeting this afternoon to discuss an expedition out there. If anyone asks it's research you're doing into Corypheus, trying to find something we can use against him. This family you're researching is potentially his family. We may not get the chance until after the Arbor Wilds but we'll see. I'll let you know," he said before taking his leave.
Mahanon was torn; he had to stop Corypheus, that took priority, but what if in doing so he lost the chance at finding a cure? If he managed to defeat Corypheus but died soon after he thought he could trust his friends to take what they may find to his clan, but truthfully he knew that by that stage it would probably be too late. The letters from his Keeper did not list how many had died or who nor did they comment on her own health but Mahanon had a feeling that it was likely she was also feeling the effects by now.
His head was filled with such thoughts as he caught up a servant and asked them to summon Leliana and Cullen to the war room (Josephine he could talk to himself on the way). He was striding towards the war room himself when he was forced to stop suddenly as Mother Giselle stepped in front of him.
"My Lord Inquisitor," she said. "It's good of you to speak with me."
"But I-"
"I have news regarding one of your… companions. The Tevinter."
Mahanon sighed; clearly the woman was going to speak her concerns regardless of whether he was busy or not. Still, he was curious about what these concerns might be that the Mother would think she was privy to but he was not.
"Tell me it's nothing bad," he said.
"If you have reservations about his presence here, I share them. But this is another matter. I have been in contact with his family: House Pavus, out of Qarinus. Are you familiar with them?"
"Not really. He's mentioned his family when I spoke to him about what it's like in Tevinter but hedged around any more personal questions. I suspect they're not on good terms so I let the matter be."
"Yes. I believe you're correct. The family sent a letter describing the estrangement from their son and pleading for my aid. They've asked to arrange a meeting, quietly, without telling him. They fear it's the only way he'll come. Since you seem to be on good terms with the young man of late, I'd hoped... "
Mahanon's eyes narrowed at that. There was a time, perhaps, where he would not have thought twice about deceiving the Vint into doing something. But he was trying to build up trust and a rapport with him now. He was sure that, as much as Dorian was willing to help him, he was just as wary of trusting Mahanon as Mahanon was of trusting him. So, "If you think I'm going to trick Dorian into meeting his family…"
Mother Giselle sighed "I feared you might say that. The family will send a retainer to meet the young man at the Redcliffe tavern to take him onward. If he truly does not wish this reunion he can always end the matter there. I pray you change your mind, Inquisitor. Perhaps their letter will persuade you. If there is any chance of success in this, it behooves us to act."
Mahanon took the letter and glanced over it. It seemed to corroborate what the Mother told him, that his family wanted to reach out and talk to him and they did seem worried, though whether it was just the fact that their heir was in danger or genuine concern Mahanon couldn't tell. He would take the letter to Dorian, he decided, and leave it up to him. After the council meeting.
"What do you mean our scouts are disappearing?" Mahanon demanded angrily.
"Just that," Leliana answered calmly. "Pairs are sent out and they do not return."
"What of Harding?" Mahanon asked.
"She's still fine as of our last report."
Mahanon sighed heavily and, leaning against the table, ran a hand through his hair. "I'll set out in the morning for the Wilds then," he said flatly.
"I don't think that's wise, Inquisitor," Cullen said.
Mahanon looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Our scouts are going missing and you don't think it's wise to investigate?"
"No, not that. It needs investigating but I recommend sending the Chargers in. They've worked with Harding's scouts before. This could be a trap set by Corypheus to lure you in. The Chargers can investigate and bulk up Harding's remaining scouts. Depending on what they report back we'll know how to act."
Mahanon grimaced; he didn't like sending others in to do what he felt he should be doing, especially not after what he had experienced in the Fade at Adamant, but what Cullen said made sense. Mahanon's anchor was still the best weapon they had against Corypheus so it was best to use it from a position of strength rather than lured into a situation of the enemy's making.
"Very well," Mahanon said, "I'm sure they'd welcome some action and Krem would likely be happy to see Harding again," he added with a smile.
"Oh? Is there something there?" Josephine asked, her eyes near glittering with curiosity.
Mahanon grinned. "Seems to be. They're pretty private about it though. Much like an ambassador and a certain bearded warden?"
Josephine turned pink up to her ears and stammered out, "I-I don't know what you mean, Inquisitor."
Leliana giggled. "Why Josie, you're practically glowing." Which of course made her even more red.
"I-I am not!"
"How did you learn about that, Lavellan? I thought the only ones to know were the two themselves and my spies," Leliana asked.
"Bull told me. His ben hassrath training comes in handy for more than just fighting and predicting enemy movements. He's guessed who's seeing who all over the keep. He-"
"Can we get on with it please?" Cullen cut in.
Mahanon grinned and winked at Cullen, saying "Sure thing." He knew that the man was likely worried that his secrets would be revealed next, though the fact of the matter was, he was one of the few Bull hadn't been able to crack yet, at least with regards to a love interest. Mahanon could guess but it would remain only a guess. However, the way he reacted just then made him sure there was someone. He would have to bring that up with Bull in their next post-coital gossip session.
"As much as I hate sending someone in my place, I think sending the Chargers is a good idea," Mahanon said. "It will also free me up for another investigation out to the Western Approach."
"What's in the Western Approach that we need to see to?" Cullen asked.
"Dorian has been doing some research and may have found references to something that could help us with Corypheus. In truth, I don't understand all of what he was going on about but he seemed to believe, strongly, that it was worth investigating. I told him it would likely have to wait until after whatever happens in the Arbor Wilds, but we may have time now."
"Any advantage is a good advantage, and Dorian's research skills are second to none," Josephine commented.
"I could send some of my people out there, Inquisitor. There's no need for you to go yourself. If Dorian tells me what you'll be looking for-"
"No, it's fine," he cut in. "Bad enough I'm sending the Chargers out in my place, I would rather not send someone else out to do this as well. Besides, we barely did anything to secure the place from the Venatori last time we were there, it would probably be good to do so now while we have the down time."
"I agree," Cullen said. "There is a keep there, Griffon Wing Keep, that is currently controlled by the Venatori and would be useful as an outpost for our forces. If you're able to take that while you're there it would be beneficial."
Mahanon smiled and nodded, glad that Cullen had suggested another reason to go there to further legitimize his personal wish to. He felt bad about hedging the truth as to his reasons, especially to these three, but he more feared what would happen if they actually found out the truth. "We'll look into it."
"Before you go then, Inquisitor, there are some other matters to deal with," Josephine said.
The council meeting seemed to drag on and on and all the while the letter from Dorian's father seemed to be burning inside Mahanon's pocket. The business that Josephine wanted to go through before he left would be enough to make a mountain. Even Leliana started to appear bored and Cullen was massaging his temples openly now.
"I think the rest of this can wait until later," Mahanon cut in as Josephine started to bring up yet another point that needed his 'urgent attention'.
"But-"
"Yes, Josie, let's give it a rest for now. I'm sure the remaining requests and marriage proposals can wait," Leliana said.
"Yes! That! It's not like I won't be cooped up here all over again reporting on what happened as soon as I get back anyway, we can deal with a few more then. And if there's something that can be done in writing then just leave it on the desk in my room as always," Mahanon said and, without waiting for another protest to be made, spun around and strode quickly from the room.
He was hungry, but wanted to speak with Dorian first, to see if he wanted to meet with his family or not. Checking the library, Mahanon found Dorian in his usual alcove, reading up on… well something, Mahanon didn't really care what the book was.
"Dorian?" he said.
The man looked up, perfectly groomed eyebrows rising in surprise. "Lavellan. Truth be told I didn't expect to see you before tomorrow."
"There's been a… development. A letter actually, one you need to see."
"A letter? A naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?"
Mahanon rolled his eyes but he was starting to get used to Dorian's constant flirting and innuendos. "Not exactly," he said. "It's from your father."
That put the wind out of his sails. Dorian's face visible dropped at that, his voice flat and emotionless as he said, "From my father. I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell."
"A meeting," Mahanon said. "To talk."
"Show me this letter," Dorian demanded and Mahanon handed it over, leaning against a bookcase as he waited for him to read. He didn't have to wait long; it wasn't a long letter and Dorian was a fast reader. Instead he watched the man's facial expressions, trying to remember the various things Bull had told him about reading people. An amused smirk at first, perhaps proud that his father acknowledged all previous attempts at communication were ignored. An eyebrow raised, maybe disbelieving the wish to talk. And then, finally, anger. Outrage even. Mahanon had guessed that last one would be seen; the letter had been quite condescending, especially calling Dorian a boy when he has been a man for many years now, Mahanon thought. As though he were a wilful child and nothing more.
It seemed Dorian shared his opinion. "I know my son? What my father knows of me could fill a thimble. This is so typical!" he raged. "I'm willing to bet this 'retainer' is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter."
"He can try, but he won't succeed. Not while I'm there, if you don't mind me being there of course," Mahanon said.
"He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle. Although Maker knows why he thinks I would."
"If you like, we can go there before we head to the Western Approach. The Arbor Wilds has been delayed, again, so we have time," Mahanon offered. He too wanted to see this through, to see just what Dorian's father was playing at. He was, perhaps, a little nervous about meeting with another Tevinter mage, and a magister at that, but Dorian had not brought harm to him yet. Should his allegiance shift over the course of the meeting, then Mahanon would have Bull at least and probably someone else with him as backup.
"Yes," Dorian agreed. "Let's go. Let's meet this so-called family retainer. If it's a trap we escape and kill everyone! You're good at that."
"What? No I'm not!" Mahanon protested. A raised eyebrow was the only response. Mahanon sighed and said, "Well, I suppose, but they started it."
"Regardless, if it's not a trap, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wits end'."
"So what's the story between you two? I don't mean to pry but if we're going to walk into a trap I would rather know at least some of the history behind it. Is there some kind of bad blood between you?" Mahanon asked.
Dorian, to Mahanon's surprise laughed. "Interesting turn of phrase," he said. Mahanon tilted his head questioningly but Dorian did not elaborate. "But you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."
"But what choices? Was it just you didn't like someone they tried to set you up with? Or something larger?"
"That too."
Mahanon sighed a little but relented; Dorian obviously didn't want to talk about the specifics and, really, Mahanon probably wouldn't in his position either. It would be like Dorian suddenly demanding to know why Mahanon didn't feel comfortable returning to his clan anymore, it cut too close to the heart of everything. "Very well," he said. "We'll travel to Redcliffe tomorrow to meet this retainer then. The Chargers will travel with us that far, they're heading to the Arbor Wilds to support Harding and her scouts, then once your business is concluded we'll go to the Western Approach, see what we can find. Sound good?"
Dorian gave a nod then, leaning sideways against the wall and looking out the window, sighed and said softly, "I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed." He grimaced and shook his head. "We'll find out soon enough."
Mahanon left Dorian to his own thoughts then, intending to seek out Bull. Typically Inquisition forces travelled in groups of four and, heading into untamed territory, Mahanon thought it wise to continue that tradition. However it meant that he had to find a fourth person to travel with and that made him uneasy.
He found Bull and Krem walking the battlements talking, though they welcomed his arrival. Mahanon caught the two of them up on what Dorian had suggested, the war council meeting, and Mother Giselle's manipulations, also informing Krem that he would be leading the Chargers out to meet Harding. As expected, the man seemed to light up at the news of meeting with the dwarf and Bull and Mahanon exchanged knowing glances. He also shared his concerns about finding a fourth companion, about having another person find out about his illness since it was getting harder and harder to hide. Whoever it was had to be someone he could trust with the secret.
"I wish you could make up the fourth person," Mahanon lamented to Krem for perhaps the third time.
"And then who would keep the others out of trouble?" Krem said with a smile. "Especially since you stole the chief from us."
"I didn't stealhim. I just… appropriated him," Mahanon said.
"I'm standing right here," Bull said while Krem just snorted.
"Yes and looking incredibly majestic at the same time," Mahanon cooed.
Bull, unable to resist, struck a pose, hands on hips and looking off into the distance.
"Seriously though," he said, lowering his arms and leaning back against the stone wall. "Take Cassandra."
"The Seeker? You don't think she'd be a bit… forthright?" Krem asked.
"She did keep quiet about Cullen's lyrium withdrawals," Mahanon mused. Of course, Bull later told him that he had realised what was going on with the commander before Cassandra had told him but that was beside the point; she had only told Mahanon because he had walked in on them arguing about it. "I guess I could ask her," Mahanon said. He levelled Bull with a look then, saying, "But no telling her until it's unavoidable. With any luck I may not need to tell her at all."
"With your luck?" Krem drawled.
"Hey, I can dream," Mahanon pouted.
After bidding a boisterous farewell to the Chargers at the gates of Redcliffe, Mahanon, Bull, Dorian, and Cassandra approached the Gull and Lantern. Cassandra had been more than willing to accompany them, though she voiced some surprise at Mahanon's choice of Dorian as a companion. At least until he told her that they would be meeting Dorian's father in Redcliffe first.
Opening the doors at Gull and Lantern they found the place completely deserted.
"Uh oh. Nobody's here. This doesn't bode well," Dorian said.
Mahanon agreed with that and said, "Bull, Cassandra, you two wait outside. Make sure no one comes in or out. We'll shout if we need you."
"Yes, Inquisitor," Cassandra said, while Bull just nodded.
Together, Mahanon and Dorian enter the tavern and look around, Dorian with his staff ready and Mahanon with his daggers. Catching a glimpse of movement on the stairs, Mahanon hurried to the side to stand against the wall near the stair entrance, ready to attack from behind should he need to.
The man who walked past him, apparently unaware of his presence, was dressed finely. This retainer perhaps? Mahanon thought.
"Dorian," the man said, his voice deep.
"Father," Dorian replied, his voice flat. He glanced over the man's shoulder to where Mahanon was standing and Mahanon could have cursed him; the man, Dorian's father, now knew there was someone there, the element of surprise was lost. Still, neither mage made any move to attack and Dorian even put up his staff so Mahanon decided to sheath his daggers and step forwards. "So the whole story about the 'family retainer' was just… what? A smoke screen?" Dorian continued.
Halward glanced over his shoulder, following Dorian's gaze, and his eyes widened slightly seeing Mahanon standing there. Mahanon though made no move to attack and instead leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching warily. "Then you were told," Halward said. He turned slightly to face Mahanon as he said, "I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to be involved."
Mahanon opened his mouth to reply but Dorian beat him to it, his voice near dripping with sarcasm as he said, "Of course not. Magister Pavus couldn't come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think?" Mahanon smirked at that, amused despite himself. Dorian, however, was not amused. "What is this exactly, Father? Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?"
Halward sighed. "This is how it has always been," he said to Mahanon.
"Considering you lied to get him here, Dorian has every right to be furious," Mahanon pointed out, already unimpressed.
"You don't know the half of it! But maybe you should," Dorian said, his voice turning almost calculating on that last sentence.
That seemed to almost frighten Halward as he quickly got out, "Dorian, there's no need to-"
He was cut off as Dorian interjected. "I prefer the company of men," he said. "My father disapproves."
Mahanon frowned. "The company of men? What do you mean?"
"Did I stutter? Men and the company thereof. As in sex. Surely you've heard of it."
Mahanon's eyes narrowed, irritated at the condescending tone Dorian took. "Of course I've heard of it, Dorian. I know you are aware of mine and Bull's relationship, half of Thedas probably is. Your preferences are not exactly news, even for me."
That seemed to settle Dorian at least a little, though he still demanded, "And why should it be? Why should anyone care? I have no idea."
"This display is uncalled for," Halward said.
Mahanon bristled at that though, once more, it was Dorian who answered. "No, it iscalled for," he snapped. "You called for it by luring me here."
"This is not what I wanted," Halward lamented and, Mahanon thought, he actually sounded sad by the fact.
Dorian either didn't notice or didn't care, responding, "I'm never what you wanted, Father, or have you forgotten?" before stalking away, to lean his arms against a counter.
Mahanon pushed away and followed standing to one side of Dorian. He was somewhat confused. "That's a big concern in Tevinter then?" he asked. "Among my clan it's frowned upon, but I've never really known of it driving people away."
"Only if you're trying to live up to an impossible standard. Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distil the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw - every aberration - is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden."
"So who you sleep with is the issue here?" Mahanon said, still trying to get an understanding.
"That's not allit's about," Dorian said.
Halward interjected then, seemingly unwilling to let the explanations, the shame, continue. "Dorian, please, if you'll only listen to me."
"Why? So you can spout more convenient lies? Hetaught me to hate blood magic. Remember when you asked about blood magic and I said "The resort of a weak mind"? Those are hiswords." Dorian spins around to face his father, glaring. "But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to changeme!" Mahanon glanced between Dorian and Halward at that; Dorian sounded truly hurt, his hurt naked in a way that he had never allowed it to be before.
"I only wanted what was best for you!" Halward protested.
"You wanted the best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!" Dorian snarled before turning and leaned once more against the table.
Seeing their reactions, seeing how much this upset Dorian, Mahanon began to think that he shouldn't have showed him the letter at all, that they shouldn't have bothered coming. "Perhaps we should go," he said quietly to Dorian.
Dorian nodded slowly and pushed away from the table. He takes two steps, then turns to his father saying only, "Tell me why you came."
"If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition…" Halward started.
Mahanon narrowed his eyes at that, irritated that he would think joining the Inquisition somehow shameful. Though, he supposed, in Tevinter it very well could be.
"You didn't. I joined the Inquisition because it's the right thing to do. Once I had a father who would have known that," Dorian said, and this time he made real progress towards the door before Halward spoke again.
"Once I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed." Dorian paused at that and half turned back, looking over his shoulder. Mahanon supposed that it was probably rare his magister of a father would ever admit that he was in the wrong. "I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me."
Dorian's eyebrows shot up at that and he looked to Mahanon, as though seeking his opinion. Mahanon, for his part, was torn; Magister Halward was already in low standing with Mahanon for what he was, but for what he had done, from what he had heard, it made it all so much worse. But there was hope in Dorian's eyes; it was possible that the man had shown hope before around Skyhold but since Mahanon had avoided him until recently he had not seen it. If this gave him a chance… Mahanon nodded towards Halward, then stepped back, prepared to wait by the door so father and son could speak privately.
Dorian was perhaps about three hours with his father and, after only about half an hour, Mahanon got bored and wandered outside to find Bull and Cassandra. After catching them up on what had gone on inside (omitting what he felt were personal details that Dorian probably didn't want shared), he pulled out a pair of dice and started to teach them a Dalish dice game that hunters often played while camped away from the clan. By the time Dorian had emerged Bull had picked it up and was holding his own easily while Cassandra was left fumbling and Mahanon was trying out his cheats to see if Bull with his sharp eye could spot them. He was proud that most were not noticed.
Packing up once more the four of them took their leave of Redcliffe and started west. With a motion, Mahanon indicated that Bull should take Cassandra and lead away; he wanted to talk to Dorian more about what had happened but didn't want the man to feel uncomfortable.
"So. Now you know," Dorian said.
"Somewhat. You said he tried to change you?" Mahanon said, staring at the ground as they walked.
"Out of desperation," Dorian said. "I wouldn't put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavoury private and locked away. Selfish, I suppose, not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside. You said such preferences were frowned upon with your people?"
"Yes, though we are not expected to keep them hidden," Mahanon said. "I had a relationship with the Keeper's First. It was allowed because I was young. Depending on what happened within the clan I may have been allowed to continue it but I was warned that I may be expected to partner with a woman to have children. Our Keeper said she would be forced to choose someone if I didn't."
"And that was acceptable to you?" Dorian asked, disbelief in his tone.
Mahanon gave a one shouldered shrug. "Any girl who agreed to pair with me would know of my preferences, there are very few secrets in a clan. If she was willing to pair with me despite that, the least I could do was try to get her with children. If I was to return now, with everything," he waved a hand over his chest, "I suspect it would be brought up as a duty."
"And you would do it?"
"I guess. Good thing I'm needed more here than there, then huh?" he said with a half smile. "I suppose it would be different for you though. For me it was accepted, unusual but accepted. If it was so hated…"
"He was going to do a blood ritual on me, alter my mind, make me… acceptable. I found out. I left," Dorian said.
Mahanon froze mid step and stared at Dorian, the implications of that statement rolling around in his mind. A blood ritual? The one who had apparently taught Dorian that blood magic was only for the weak? And to change him against his will? Mahanon could well imagine how he would have reacted to such an act, and it wouldn't have been by simply leaving; there would have been a lot more violence. And here he had been, accusing Dorian of being a blood mage, of wanting to use blood magic. Once again his ignorance and closed mind had made him a fool. "Can… Can blood magic actually do that?" Mahanon asked, stunned, continuing to walk again. Truthfully his only experience with blood magic was the odd rogue mage who used it to amplify their magic, and what he had witnessed at Adamant to bind demons.
"Maybe. It could also have left me a drooling vegetable. It crushed me to think that he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal." Mahanon grimaced at that, imagining how he would feel had his Keeper been willing to try such a thing on him to get him to change something so intrinsic about himself. "Part of me has always hoped he wouldn't go through with it," Dorian continued. "If he had, I can't even imagine the person I would be now. I wouldn't like that Dorian."
"I don't know, you might be a little less vain and insufferable," Mahanon said, a half smile tugging at his lips to let Dorian know he was only joking.
Dorian gave a bark of laughter at that. "Perhaps," he said. "But then you wouldn't be enjoying my delightful company right now."
Mahanon was about to reply but feeling that dreaded tell-tale tremor in his chest muscles, he clenched his teeth and remained silent, trying to hold it down. He had become practised at doing so, though usually always with the cost of having a worse coughing fit afterwards. Dorian, perhaps expecting a reply he never got, glanced across and, taking one look at Mahanon's facial expression said, "Another coughing fit is coming?"
Mahanon gave a tight nod. Dorian glanced at the sky then called out, "We should probably make camp."
"Why? It's still early," Cassandra said, pausing and looking back.
Bull looked back too and, seeing Mahanon's expression, his pointed look, nodded and said, "It's been a long day. We could all do with a rest."
"Oh, very well," Cassandra said.
The four of them moved a little away from the road to where there was a flat area. Inquisition forces had camped here before and there was already a stack of wood and a fire pit set aside. They were far from the only people who used the campsite of course, but thankfully those who used it last had re-stacked more wood ready for the next traveller. By the time they reached it Mahanon was already starting to cough lightly and it only remained light through sheer force of will. He was breathing quickly through his nose, feeling like he couldn't catch his breath. While he helped set up the tents he said not a word, jaw clenched tightly closed, refusing to give in. None of them spoke much, though Mahanon was aware of Cassandra watching the three of them as though trying to work something out.
Straightening after hammering a tent peg into the ground, the world faded to grey and a roaring was heard in his ears.
"Woah, easy there Kadan," Bull said quietly, his hand on Mahanon's elbow, keeping him upright.
Like a trigger, first one cough was released, then another, then it was all Mahanon could do to suck air in between the coughing. He was aware of Bull guiding him to sit, of Dorian searching through his bags no doubt looking for his incense, of Cassandra calling his name, demanding to know what was wrong, but all he could concentrate was getting enough air in to satisfy the coughing and not black out in the meantime. The incense burner found and taken into his tent, Bull picked him up like he weighed nothing at all and carried him inside. "Lean over it, there you go," he heard his deep voice saying, the sound of it soothing some of Mahanon's panic. "Just breathe, Kadan, just breathe."
'I'm trying!'Mahanon thought angrily, but he didn't have the breath to voice it.
"I can try healing it if you'll let me," Dorian was saying. "I should be at least able to ease some of the pain."
Mahanon gave a nod, giving his permission.
"Can someone tell me what is going on?" Cassandra was demanding from the entrance to the tent.
"It's your call, boss," Bull said.
Mahanon knew what he would prefer, but he also knew what Bull wanted and what was wise, the later two being the same thing. Closing his eyes in resignation, he gave a short nod. He hated it, hated yet more people, especially people he respected like Cassandra, knowing about this weakness but he had to trust that she would say nothing. That was why he had invited her along after all, as opposed to Sera or Varric.
Bull looked to Dorian and said, "If he gets worse, or you're not able to get it to stop, come get me."
"Of course," Dorian replied, and with that Bull ducked out of the tent, motioning for Cassandra to follow.
Dorian was silent after they left, focussing his magic on Mahanon. True to his word, he did ease some of the burning pain, but the coughing and gasping continued and there was the strong metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
"Lavellan, your lungs are filling with blood faster than you can clear them with the coughing, which is why you can't get your breath," Dorian said, his voice tight. "If you'll let me, I want to try and force the blood out with a… a shove I guess. It will likely hurt but I won't be touching the foul magic so it shouldn't make things worse."
Mahanon nodded again; after all, what did he have to lose? He was no stranger to pain in his chest and lungs any more and even his stomach, back and core muscles seemed to hurt on a daily basis from the coughing. Dorian stood and fetched a cloth, holding it to Mahanon who took it and held it over his mouth.
"It will probably feel like a solid punch. Let me know when you're ready," Dorian said.
Mahanon really didn't need to be asked twice and instantly nodded quickly. No sooner had he finished than there was a force, a blow inside his chest. All of Mahanon's precious air was forced up and out of his mouth, causing him to gag and cough again. He managed to suck in two breaths of air before he was struck again and he vomited up even more blood. A third strike seemed to only bring up a little and then, once he was actually able to convince his lungs to work properly again, he took his first deep breath in what had probably been weeks. He was still coughing a little but it was less, the incense that filled the tent actually seeming to get into his lungs and do its job. A warmth suffused his muscles, not the painful burning he was used to but a soothing warmth and he realized Dorian was still using magic on him.
"How do you feel?" Dorian asked quietly, his hands still on Mahanon as he kept the muscles warm and soothed, stilling all but the worst of the tremors.
"Better," Mahanon said, his voice strained but at least he was able to speak. "Much better. Thank you Dorian," he said sincerely.
Dorian gave a small smile and a nod. "You should rest now," he said. "It hasn't fixed the problem, far from it I'm afraid, but I can keep soothing the muscles in the meantime."
"Thank you Dorian. I mean it," Mahanon said as he wiped the cloth over his mouth, ridding it of the last of the blood and laid down. He didn't look at it to see how much was there, he didn't want to know. Instead he just folded it over and clenched it in his fist.
"Oh, pish posh. It's the least I could do after you helped me today. Now rest."
Bull and Cassandra walked a short ways from the camp where they could speak without bothering Mahanon; Bull knew that his Kadan was reluctant to let anyone else know so he figured it would be better if he told the Seeker what was going on where the Inquisitor wouldn't hear.
"So what is this? An illness? Shouldn't he be resting at Skyhold?" Cassandra demanded as soon as they stopped walking.
"Something of the sort. Dorian seems to think it more of a curse than a legitimate illness, however. And rest won't help it. What did he tell you the reason was for us going to the Western Approach?" Bull asked.
"To kill time mostly," Cassandra said. "But also to take a keep that would be helpful to the Inquisition. I'm guessing that's not actually the case?"
"No, that's the reason. At least part of it. The other part is to search some Tevinter ruin or other that Dorian seems to think may have clues on a way to lift this curse, a cure."
"Then why is this secret? If others knew, the whole of the Inquisition forces could…" Cassandra trailed off seeing Bull already shake his head. "I think you better start from the beginning," she said instead.
"The way he tells it, it began before either of us met him, in his clan, killing the children and weakest elders. He was sent to the Conclave to find someone to help them. For Lavellan, the coughing started after Haven when he was caught in that avalanche, though whether that triggered it or it would've started anyway who knows. It's continued to get worse till it's where you see it, weakening, coughing blood, unable to breathe properly. As for why no one knows, it's cause Lavellan doesn't want em to know."
Cassandra glanced back to the tent where they had left Lavellan, worry written all over her face. "Most of the Inquisition knows something is wrong but either no one knows what or those who do are remaining particularly close-lipped about it. And then, just when things start looking like something should be said, he bounces back full of life and energy as though nothing is wrong. I had put it down to worry, the stress of the position, not… this," she said.
"He remembered how you kept Cullen's withdrawal quiet and trusts you not to say anything 'bout this either. He's worried about how it will affect the image of the Inquisition, and what troubles it may bring down on his clan in their weakened state," Bull said; he was personally of the opinion that they should tell as many people as possible and fuck what they thought of him if only to find a cure, but he would respect his Mahanon's wishes on this. At least for now. Mahanon was slow to trust anyone with anything private and personal, and this was no exception. He just hoped it wouldn't wind up ending with his death.
Lavellan was laying on the cot in the tent, incense burner on the floor beside him with its foul smoke wafting over him. His coughing had eased and Dorian's magic was helping to sooth the pain, but he still felt exhausted. He couldn't get Dorian's words out of his head, about how he had nearly been subjected to a blood magic ritual by his own father, someone he had once trusted entirely.
"Dorian, do you think… do you think your father would have some idea about this illness, this curse, whatever it is?" he asked eventually.
"Once I would have said definitely not personally, but now?" Mahanon heard Dorian sigh. "If he doesn't, he could probably find out. Do you want me to make some enquiries? Discretely of course."
"Dorian, someone as flamboyant as you, doesn't know the meaning of 'discrete'," Mahanon said, but he said it with a tired smile to let Dorian know he was joking. "If you would that would be good, thank you. What… happened in there? With him?"
"He says we're alike. Too much pride. Once I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."
"I don't know if I would be able to either," Mahanon allowed. "Are you all right?"
"No. Not really. Thank you for bringing me out there. I mean we were going out anyway but it was still a detour. It wasn't what I expected but… it's something. Maker knows what you must think of me now. After that whole display."
"Truthfully? I have a lot more respect for you now than I ever did before, coming from that. And Cullen was right, we are very much alike ourselves. Besides, I have to keep you around for at least one reason: you're good at research and I hate reading."
Dorian gave a bitter laugh at that. "Just the one? My wounded pride." Mahanon smiled and at that moment the tent flap open and Bull ducks inside. "At any rate," Dorian continued, "time to drink myself into a stupor. It's been that sort of a day. Join me later, if you're feeling up to it." And with that he left, leaving the Inquisitor to Bull to look after.
