Dorian looked down at his sleeping amatus curling in on himself. He sat on the edge of the bed in the Winter Palace, the moon finding her way through the curtains to light the room. As Dorian let out a heavy sigh his fingers lightly brushed the Inquisitor's hair out of his face. Fingers twitching in his sleep, the remainder of his left arm jerked violently. Dorian knew that his love was still in pain, from both the loss of his arm and the loss of Solas. He felt guilty, knowing that he would leave soon, too.

Dorian rose from the bed, sheets gracefully relinquishing him to the night air. The room at the Winter Palace was not completely unlike the one the Inquisitor had at Skyhold. It was spacious enough, windows that opened up to a balcony, and a lovely view.

He didn't want to leave his amatus.

He can't give up on his people, either.

Dorian knew that the amulet he gave him would only help with the distance for so long. A month with just letters was barely tolerable, but he feared what would happen if he stayed here. Or if Lavellan went with him.

It would almost be worth it, putting his love in danger, just to see the looks on his fellow country-men's faces as they walked hand-in-hand. If they didn't try to shackle him first.

"Dorian. Come back to bed."

Dorian turned, taking in Lavellan's soft appearance. His hair fell down in light curls around his shoulders, his body held up only by his right arm. His left against his side, ending abruptly in red, raised skin. Solas had done a clean job, Dorian thought bitterly.

Dorian sighed, again, and started making his way towards the bed. "I've been thinking, you know."

"I had figured something had to wake you up. Could only have been that big head of yours," Lavellan smiled crookedly, eyes becoming clearer as sleep left him.

"My head is a perfect reasonable size, thank you very much," Dorian paused as his usual confidence left him, as it often did with the Inquisitor. "I wish to talk. About us, I mean. What the future holds."

As Dorian returned to the bed, he pulled his elf into his side and to his chest, his face looking out at the moon.

"It's not my arm, is it? I had hoped that you were better than that."

"Of course not, Amatus. That is not what my concern is. The distance that will be between us, you with the Divine and me in Tevinter, I'm afraid that- well, let's just say that a month was too long without you."

Lavellan smoothly rearranged himself, his hand on Dorian's cheek, forcing him to look at the person he holds most dear. "You don't know what you do to me, do you?"

Dorian felt his eyes pinch and his cheeks grow hotter, moisture collecting along his bottom lid. "Do you?" he croaked out. "I have never, not ever in my life, hoped for something like this. This love that I have for you, Amatus, is sometimes so overwhelming that reality doesn't exist, at least for a time," Dorian reached out his own hand, cupping Lavellan's face with the utmost care. "I want to be deserving of this love, to be better. To do better. I need to help my home."

"Why can't we do that together?"

Dorian didn't know why they were whispering or why he felt as if he was about to cry. "You know why. It's dangerous for you there, as an elf. For us both, as a couple. You have work here, anyway. I know your work isn't done. Solas is still out there."

"Fuck it all."

"Excuse me?"

"Why don't we just tell the world to go fuck themselves? We deserve a break. We fixed the sky, got rid of the bad guy. Why does this have to be our problem? We both deserve happiness, Dorian. You leaving doesn't mean the end, not with the amulets. Besides," his amatus took a deep breath, "I just lost an arm, I think I'm entitled to have a week off with my evil magister."

"I think I can spare a week, especially for the Inquisitor."

Dorian relaxed as Lavellan draped himself over him, both of them settling back into the bed. As the tears receded, Dorian closed his eyes. He thought of the week ahead of them and the ring in his robes and he felt the beginnings of hope.