The year 9:34 Dragon came and went, with the biggest event that Tevinter even remotely focused on and cared about was an attack by the Qunari on the city of Kirkwall.

The Arishok had been killed by the "champion of Kirkwall", the Qunari had gone up and left, and, for Tevinter, it had been a time of unexpected peace. The fact that many people had died in Kirwall, well… That was just an "unfortunate" side-effect that held little to no meaning to the general population of nobles. They didn't care why it had happened because "it didn't happen to us for a change".

Or rather, it didn't happen to the many sea-based cities, towns and villages or the islands around Tevinter. Of course, again, that was merely a detail.

Dorian himself had spent the winter holidays at home with his parents in Qarinus though left early when they started asking him about marriage and Livia again. He just couldn't stomach it and, after the First Day was celebrated, he returned to Minrathous. There was no way in hell that he would spend Wintersent there, knowing what that particular holiday meant.

Still, it had been nice, visiting his mother and father again so he couldn't complain too much. That and Livia had not showed up for the First Day party they had held, which Dorian counted as a victory.

He had no great expectations for the new year, believing that it would be like the last except that he would become one year older once Harvestmere rolled around.

How wrong he would be.

It was almost midnight when the messenger pounded on Dorian's door, rousing him from a rather lovely dream involving whiskey-coloured eyes and strong, firm hands, back into reality in all its underwhelming pleasures.

At the moment, Dorian found the messenger rather rude, flinging the door open while giving the man the most milk-curling look he could muster. The fact that he was in nothing but a robe and his hair was a tangled mess probably lessened the effect, but the man on the other side of the door still looked a bit unsettled.

"What?" Dorian barked as half a minute of silence stretched between them.

"I… I apologize, lord Pavus! There… I… I have a message!"

"This better be a good one," Dorian grumbled, forgetting his manners in his sleepy state as he took the scroll offered by the messenger with a somewhat brisk movement. Eyes still blurred from sleep, Dorian fiddled with the wax-seal, mumbling a little to himself as his mind desperately wanted to return to bed before he finally got enough control of his fingers to unroll the damn thing.

What he read sent his heart directly up into his throat, then down into his belly as his insides started hurting.

Suddenly he wasn't so sleepy anymore.

He read the scroll, took in every word, every sentence, analysed it, but finding that the words meant the same no matter how many times he read them.

He felt himself go cold, his heart hammering hard in his chest, his mind was spinning and he found that it was hard to breathe.

"… M-master Pavus?" the messenger tried carefully, but Dorian didn't listen.

He merely nodded as his eyes looked down at the scroll. "… Thank you. You may leave now," he mumbled, but he didn't move from his spot himself. Eyes still glued to the piece of parchment in his hands.

"Dear Dorian,

I regret to inform you that tragedy has struck the Alexius household.

My wife has passed due to an unfortunate event and Felix is fighting a terrible illness and fate.

I would like for you to come for my wife's final rites and burial as I know she was fond of you, as well to be an emotional support for Felix.

We need you, Dorian.

With regards,

Gereon Alexius"

It was short, bittersweet, very uninformative and hard to read no matter how many times he tried.

Livia… Livia was dead.

And Felix was sick.

His mind was spinning due to all the questions he suddenly found himself with, but he knew that the only person who could answer them was Alexius himself.

He had to go there now.

Dorian hadn't slept since he got the news.

He had thanked the messenger again when he saw that the man had not left and, after paying him for the swift delivery, he had rushed to his bedroom to start packing.

He honestly wasn't even sure what he had packed down. He just grabbed clothes, items, books; whatever he believed he would need and stuffed them into a bag.

The trip from Minrathous to Asariel wasn't far, a few days' journey by carriage, but it left Dorian with too much time to think.
It had been months since the last time he had visited the household, months since the last time he and Gereon had worked together with their latest theories, or he and Felix spending time with one another. He had made plans to visit after the First Day, when the Alexius' household returned from the Andersfelds, but now…

He tried to read, tried to prepare himself for what was to meet him, but he honestly did not know what to expect. He had been around dead people before, it had been an important part in educating himself in the basics of healing magic, and because of his social standing, he had been a witness to more than one murder happening in balls and gatherings.

But he had never had someone close to him die before.

He honestly did not know how to feel.

Grief? Oh, certainly.

Pain? Most definitely.

But Livia had been Felix' mother, Gereon's wife… What was he to say? He had no experienced to which to compare to such a loss. The closest family he had lost was some aunt that had passed when he was a child and he couldn't even remember her.

And with Felix sick… It was no secret that both Gereon and Livia loved, adored and doted on their son, and with the loss of his wife… Dorian wasn't sure if Gereon would be able to loose Felix as well.

When the carriage finally pulled up in front of the Alexius household on their fourth day of travel, Dorian felt grossly underprepared.

The entire house felt odd even from the outside and as he walked up the steps to knock on the door, he felt himself shaking.

Things went in a bit of a blur after that.

He remembered knocking on the door, waiting for what felt like a small eternity before one of the slaves opened the door for him. He remembered being showed into the sitting-room where Alexius was sitting, silently, dressed in black robes and with an almost ashen-white face.

He remembered barely being able to croak out his mentor's name before he was swept into a hug so tight he felt his ribs dig into his insides. He remembered hugging Alexius just as tightly back as they just stood there. Not saying a single word.

He remembered being guided up to Felix's room and upon seeing his friend… Dorian remembered crying.

Felix was laying there, so pale, so frail-looking, surrounded by the finest and best medics and healers' money could buy. He was unmoving, barely breathing, with thin, dark veins showing underneath the skin.

The healers and medics were doing all they could for him, keeping him in a sleep-like state to prevent any pain as they worked, but there was little they could do.

There was no cure for the illness that Felix had.

As Alexius finally opened up to him, telling what had happened as they shared a bottle of brandy between them, the horrible accident became clear.

Livia and Felix had been attacked by hurlocks as they had travelled through southern Tevinter on their way to the Andersfelds. Livia had died instantly, but Felix… Felix had become tainted. Sick with the blight. A fate crueller than that his mother had suffered.

The healers were doing all they could, they had been ever since getting there, but Felix had already gone hours without much help before he had been brought to a proper healer once the attack had been dealt with. The taint was already going a good job of spreading itself through his system and for now, all they could do was try to help him live through his own mother's funeral, as per his own request.

Dorian had been allowed to speak with him in one of his waking moments and was unsurprised to learn that Felix was already making peace with his fate. He was ready to die and while sad to cause his father and Dorian so much pain, reassured his friend that he was fine with it.

The healers were optimistic that he would live for the days needed to take part in his mother's funeral, maybe even weeks longer and the news, while hardly new for Gereon, made the old man despair even further.

Gereon had openly cried that evening, a display that made Dorian both sad and uncomfortable.

He was so used to Gereon being this pillar of strength, able to do anything, to shoulder anything, but now… Now he was a hollow shell, grieving the loss of his love and the fate of his son.

The Maker, Dorian decided, had a cruel sense of humour, if this was the reward good men had to look forward to. Because Alexius was a good, loving man.

The funeral would take place two days after Dorian's arrival to the Alexius household.

It was a simple ceremony, with only close family and friends allowed at her wake, all dressed in black and sparely decorated clothing.

As per tradition, her body had been cleaned and dressed in a fine gown made out of silks, pearls and jewels. It was simple in design, but she looked beautiful in it.

"Her wedding-gown," Alexius had said, his voice hoarse from fighting back the tears.

She was placed on a pyre, surrounded by flowers, books and her hands holding over her favourite little stuffed animal; a little bear from Ferelden, which had been a present she had received from Alexius early in their courting.

The Revered Mother said her prayers as they gathered around the pyre before it was set ablaze with the help of a torch rather than a spell.

As the flames caught and grew stronger, the sounds of people crying and sniffling grew louder.

While the Pavus household was there, Dorian stood with Alexius and Felix, helping in moving Felix around as he barely had enough strength to remain standing.

Despite the incense and burning herbs that were surrounding them, the first whiff of the body burning was enough to make Dorian's stomach churn, but he remained unfazed on the outside. He had to be strong, for the sake of the family.

The crown remained there for what felt like hours, just watching, crying and holding one another as the Revered Mother sang a prayer to send Livia's spirit to the maker. Only when the fire's intensety started lovering did they head inside for the wake.

Dorian didn't head there imidiately and instead helped Felix back up to his room for some much needed rest.

"Thank you for being here," Felix whispered as Dorian helped lowering him to the bed, giving his friend a faint smile.

"You being here… It gives father strength. I hope you will continue to be there for him even after-"

"Hush," Dorian murmured as he offered Felix some water from a small glass bowl, letting him drink.

"You are not leaving us just yet and the healers may yet find something to…"

"Dorian… There is no cure for the blight," Felix murmured after swallowing a couple of small mouthfuls of water.

"Maybe not, but… Magical miracles happen every day," Dorian said, feeling a lump in his throat as he tried not to think about what Felix was saying.

Felix didn't answer, having already started to drift away from sheer exhaustion.

Dorian didn't leave his side. Instead he remained, just watching his friend as he slowly drifted off, barely aware of the presence of one of the many healers that was always in the room to tend to Felix' every need.

When he finally came down from his friend's room, the wake was calm and sober, with people quietly talking amongst themselves, sharing memories about Livia. Some had already left after paying their respects to Alexius.

Alexius had, understandably enough, spent most of the time drinking silently, only speaking or socializing when he was approached. To his credit, he held his mask well, giving sad smiles to the ones speaking to him, but Dorian could see the pain in his mentor's eyes.

It was hard not to take note of it.

When the sun started setting, the wake was nearing its end with the last people leaving just as dusk was coming.

Dorian remained with Alexius, helping him gather the few trinkets and presents that had been given in Livia's memories. Papers, books, clothes she had left at the Circle or Magisterium. Just small things that had held value to the woman.

"It was a beautiful sermon," Dorian murmured quietly as he folded up a silken scarf.

Alexius said nothing, merely down another glass with brandy before filling it back.

"You know Livia wouldn't want you to grieve like this," Dorian continued, turning to look at his mentor.

"She would want you to move on. And to spent time with Felix."

"Livia killed my father to protect our son," Alexius replied, his voice hoarse and bitter. "Because he wanted to kill him for being "magically inept". And here I am, letting our son die. Our only son. Our darling son."

"What happened was beyond your control, Alexius," Dorian replied carefully, putting the silken scarf down.

"You could not have known and at worse, Felix might have lost both his parents. You… You cannot think about the "what ifs", that will just drive you mad."

"I should have been there, Dorian!" Alexius barked out, slamming his fist down hard onto the table.

"I should have been there! I should have protected them both, but I was not! Look at me now! My wife is dead and my son is dying!"

"And you are doing either of them any favours by blaming yourself," Dorian retorted. "You cannot change what has happened, but you can do something now. And that is being with Felix and doing whatever you can for him in his last… While he is here."

Alexius just mumbled something under his breath while nursing his glass with brandy. Dorian had lost count on how many drinks the man had had by now and while Alexius wasn't looking, Dorian took the almost empty flask from the desk. He didn't think Alexius would do well with anymore alcohol.

"Sorry, Alexius, but I didn't catch that."

"I'll find a way," Alexius mumbled. "I'll find a way… Even if it kills me…"

Dorian sighed some and carefully placed his hands on Alexius' shoulders, trying to steer him towards the stairs so he could take him to bed. "We can talk about that when you are sober, Alexius. Right now, you would believe in unicorns if I said there was one in your yard."

Alexius merely grunted, leaning heavily on Dorian as the younger man took him to bed.

It was a struggle in itself, getting Alexius to even lie down and Dorian didn't even want to attempt trying to get him to undress in the state he was in.

He felt just as tired as Alexius looked, but he felt he had to be strong for him. He had to help him. He owed him that much.

"You will help me… Right?"

"Pardon?" Dorian asked, having not caught the slurred words due to his own thoughts. He looked at Alexius and it was there and then he saw just how distressed and in pain Alexius was.

The man's eyes were glazed over, red from crying. The sun-kissed skin already paled from spending days upon days inside, grieving ever since the accident had happened. The dark shadows under his eyes, the unkempt look from not shaving.

The worse was the eyes. A pool of grief, of sorrow, of pain. There was nothing there except desperation. Sorrow.

No hope.

Nothing.

"You are my wonder, Dorian. A wonder of thaumaturgy, gifted. Help me, Dorian."

Desperation.

"You know I will do whatever I can for you and for Felix," Dorian murmured, carefully tucking Alexius in. "I will be here."

Alexius continued mumbled to himself, the alcohol-intake finally catching up to the rest of his body as the older man started drifting away. Dorian didn't move, as if afraid that even the slightest movement would wake Alexius back up from his drunken slumber.

He had no idea how long he stood by the man's side, unmoving like a statue, just watching the man, his master and mentor, sleep. He took in everything about Alexius and he stored it inside himself.

He had to help…

He had to do something.

Anything.