Of all the places they'd been to, the Storm Coast was definitely not one of Dorian's favorites. It always seemed to be raining and, while they hadn't been there long, Dorian was beginning to forget what it was like to be dry and warm. Sure, he could have put up a barrier to shield himself from the weather, but that was an irresponsible waste of his magic when they were being attacked by mercenaries at every turn.

As awful as it was, he wasn't one to add to another's burden by needlessly complaining. Commiserating or venting about a general situation, especially to enhance his overly dramatic reputation? Certainly, of course. But the Inquisitor had enough to deal with and was probably just as cold and miserable as the rest of them. Dorian wasn't about to add guilt for something Elden couldn't even control on top of everything else. Especially if it might lead to the Inquisitor choosing to leave him behind on these little skirmishes. He couldn't risk that.

Dorian was concentrating on his feet, attempting to avoid slipping on the narrow mountain path, shooting glances in Elden's direction every now and then. Their fearless leader was somehow pushing intently ahead and Dorian couldn't help but wonder how his armor felt, probably twice as heavy now that his under armor was no doubt waterlogged. He was fantasizing about getting them both out of their wet clothes and huddled under a warm blanket next to a roaring fire when they came around a bend and nearly ran right into the midst of a hoard of darkspawn.

As soon as Dorian laid eyes on them it felt like the ground had fallen out from under him. He froze up, images of Felix flashing before his mind's eye, how he'd been brought back to Alexius' estate barely alive, of the grief and despair that hung over that house ever after. Then he saw Elden, charging into their midst like he always did, drawing fire as if he had no fear.

Something in Dorian snapped. Suddenly he was all frantic energy as panic overwhelmed him, throwing up a barrier around Elden before wasting most of his energy on a barrage of fire against the darkspawn, forgetting to pace himself. As his mana waned, he used his staff instead, bludgeoning and slicing at anything he could get close to as his magic slowly returned to him. His eyes never left Elden if he could help it as he desperately attempted to fight to his side.

All that mattered was getting the darkspawn away from Elden, making sure he didn't meet the same fate Felix had. He remembered every time Felix had stumbled, all the pain he was forced to endure, and all the while Dorian had been helpless to stop it. He'd watched his best friend slowly wasting away for years, dying right in front of him, and he couldn't go through that again. He couldn't lose anyone else. Elden already had the anchor in his hand, was already consumed by pain and duty and responsibilities he'd never asked for; Dorian was supposed to ease that burden, he couldn't let this happen.

Dorian's barrier flickered and vanished and with horror he realized he didn't have the mana to reapply it to the Inquisitor. He grabbed at a potion and downed it quickly, feeling like a weight was crushing down on his chest making it hard to breathe as fear gripped him and he waited for the lyrium to take effect, fearing that at any moment an attack could break through Elden's defences, spelling the end for him.

A blade glanced off of Elden's breastplate and Dorian stopped breathing altogether. He had a second potion at the ready when he was finally able to cast the barrier again, throwing caution to the wind as he tore into any darkspawn around him. The potions turned his stomach and left him with a headache akin to a hangover once they wore off, but if he could just ensure Elden's safety that was all that mattered.

He was three potions down when the last darkspawn finally fell. Blackwall actually looked pleased, but it was all Dorian could do to hide his trembling hands. He felt ill in a way that had nothing to do with the aftereffects of the potions, as if his world would fall apart around him at any moment, as if he might reach out to Elden only to have him slip through his fingers. But instead, his hand landed on Elden's shoulder, solid beneath his fingers, but the relief he felt at that was nearly just as disturbing as the fear.

"You alright, amatus?" he asked, ignoring his internal turmoil, ensuring his voice would be steady. He couldn't give away how much he cared. How much he'd unwittingly allowed himself to feel for the Inquisitor.

"Fine," Elden said, turning to him, and honestly the radiant smile he gave him was completely unfair and all too reassuring. He raised his shield, protecting them both from the rain at least temporarily, but for once Dorian forgot to feel the cold.

"Good," he said, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from him. Sure, the fear was still there, especially knowing that more darkspawn could be just around the corner, this was far from over, but Elden was fine. Everything was fine. "Then so am I."

Of course Dorian was prepared for all of this to end terribly, the Inquisitor was bound to grow bored with him or realize their relationship was a danger to their goal. That's always how this went. Dorian was used to being temporary, he was prepared for all that. But seeing Elden rush into battle again and again, knowing that even a minor injury from a darkspawn could spell his end-

The Inquisitor always just seemed so invincible. Sure, none of them were likely to get out of this alive, but Dorian had been so certain that Elden at least would outlive him. It was terrifying realizing that Dorian couldn't lose him. At least if Elden moved on from him, he would still be alive, could still find happiness, but Dorian wasn't sure he could stand to see him die. Of course Dorian would endure. He was always fine, was always able to continuing no matter the circumstance, but he couldn't watch another good man die. He couldn't lose Elden.


This was becoming a problem. It wasn't that he doubted the Inquisitor's prowess in battle, Dorian was simply a realist. He knew the stakes, knew what was a risk. That was the whole reason Dorian had come south, after all. But now every time Elden charged recklessly into the fray it left Dorian's heart pounding in his chest, rising into his throat. Even when they finally reached the campsite and settled down around the fire to warm up and dry off, Dorian couldn't calm down.

He excused himself as early as he could, shedding much of his clothes to leave out to dry before sitting cross-legged on his bedroll. He pulled out his books, thankful that they hadn't been damaged in the rain, but there was a distinct possibility that he would be too restless to concentrate properly enough to read anything tonight. Before he could make any sort of decision, the tent flap was pulled open and Elden entered.

"Hey," he said, shedding the remainder of his wet clothes as well before sitting beside him. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Quite alright," he said distractedly, flipping through one of the books randomly, but Elden didn't seem convinced.

"Hey," Elden said, reaching out to stroke his cheek, urging him to look at him. "You can talk to me. But if you don't want to, that's fine too. Just tell me what you need."

Dorian just stared at him, too taken aback to say anything, completely overwhelmed. He felt too much to completely identify, but foremost was an overwhelming affection and disbelief at the genuine kindness and concern in Elden's face, but also a terrible fear that this gentleness might one day be taken from him. Dorian was supposed to have done a better job guarding his heart, but here he was wanting nothing more than to spill it all into Elden's hands, trusting that he wouldn't let him fall, but also not caring when that small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that they always let him fall, sooner or later.

But right now, Elden was here, he was warm and alive and there was more emotion in those eyes than Dorian thought possible. Against his better judgement, he let himself drown in it. He kissed Elden hard, pushing him back down onto the bedroll, practically devouring him, and Elden responded in kind, holding him so securely Dorian thought that maybe, just maybe, it didn't all have to end in pain.

He wasn't sure he could ever truly let himself believe that, but here, wrapped in Elden's arms with his face buried in his neck as they just held each other, listening to the falling rain on the tent, he could let himself believe that nothing could hurt them here. They could be happy, at least for a time. The rest could wait until the morning.