Dorian wasn't sure how long he sat there, his eyes burning and his throat aching, feeling utterly numb. He felt worse after his outburst, not better. He had no right to feel this way, not after what he had done. He never wanted to move again. He just wanted to let the stone absorb him and cease to exist. Maybe then the memory of Elden's blood on his hand would finally leave him.

That wasn't an option, of course, and he owed it to Elden to face his fate, to do what he could to repair some of the damage with whatever was let of his short life. Not that he would ever be able to make up for hurting Elden. A thousand lifetimes wouldn't be enough. Maker, he just wanted to see him again, to know he was all right.

He sighed. Sitting here feeling sorry for himself certainly wasn't helping anyone. He stood, feeling the need to make himself more presentable. That was always what he did, compose himself, make sure his appearance didn't reflect what he was feeling, so no one would have the satisfaction of watching as he fell apart.

He rarely used this room anymore. He'd taken to spending his nights in the Inquisitor's quarters, keeping this one mostly for appearance's sake and his own peace of mind. Luckily he still had some clothes here. Once he had dressed, he did what he could to clean off the kohl that had left streaks down his face. There was nothing he could do about his red eyes, but by the time he had finished fixing his hair there was a knock at the door.

That was certainly surprising. He had expected someone to come barging in to drag him away, as would be fitting for a prisoner who had attempted to assassinate the Inquisitor. Still, it was odd enough that he had been taken to his own quarters instead of the prison where would-be assassins were usually kept. He was tempted to not answer and see how long they'd wait, but perhaps it was best not to prolong this. He put on his best fake smile and opened the door.

Cassandra and the Iron Bull were waiting on the other side. It was interesting seeing the differences in their demeanors after the tentative friendships he had struck up with them. Cassandra looked furious, like she had been the one he had stabbed. Given her friendship with the Inquisitor, perhaps this was worse. The Iron Bull for his part looked calm, as one would expect from a spy, whatever he was feeling locked quietly away where Dorian could never hope to truly see.

It was obvious why they had sent Cassandra. She could neutralize his magic as easily as any Templar if necessary. Not that he had any magic to spare at the moment, as he still felt drained from everything that had happened. Bull's presence was a mystery, however. Perhaps he was there to highlight how ironic it was that the Qunari spy had turned out to be the trustworthy one while the Tevinter runaway had been the one to betray them all.

"It's about time you got here," Dorian said with a levity that he certainly didn't feel. "Where are we off to now, then? I trust you've constructed some gallows in my honor?"

Cassandra sneered at the tasteless joke. "The war room."

"Right then, off we go." Dorian led the way, not even bothering to see if they would follow. He just wanted this over.


The advisors were waiting for him in the war room, like they were lined up against him. Ah yes, standing tall against the loathing stares; it was just like back home. He tried to ignore the fact that this time it was friends looking at him this way.

"Tell us what happened," Leliana demanded.

"You saw what happened," Dorian snapped, irritated. Was she still on about this? It was pointless. There was nothing more to talk about. "I think your healers can give you a better description of his wounds than I."

"Why did you do it?"

"Does it really matter?" Dorian asked. "You know what happened, why are we still talking?"

Leliana narrowed her eyes. Maker, why couldn't she just end it already? "Answer my question," she said.

"Look at the facts, I'm not even denying anything!"

"We don't do any of this lightly," Leliana said. "We need to understand what happened. Why now, so suddenly? It's no secret you've been spending most of your time with the Inquisitor these days."

"And I told you it doesn't matter," Dorian said, losing his temper. This was agonizing. He didn't know what to say to them, let alone to Elden. There were no excuses for his actions, even if he had no idea why he had done any of it. It was done, and that was all there was to it. If anyone else had been found standing over the Inquisitor with a bloody knife, they'd have been dealt with already. "I've admitted to everything, so why are we still talking?"

"The Inquisitor is dead," Leliana said.

Dead. She said it with such finality, because there was nothing else, no hope.

Dorian staggered back as if he had been struck. No, he couldn't, he couldn't be dead. Maker, what had he done? Why was this happening? Leliana's words echoed in his mind, blocking out all other thought. Elden was dead. Dorian had killed him. He felt frozen to his very core. He had taken the one good thing in his life, the one truly good person in all the world, and destroyed it. This kind man, more wonderful than he had any right to be, and Dorian cared for him more than anyone else he had ever known. And Dorian's affection had poisoned everything like it always did. He had killed the only man who had ever mattered. He couldn't—Maker, what had he done?

"No," he whispered, swaying as he nearly fell. Nothing mattered. Nothing would ever matter again. Maker, how could he have done this?

"We need to know what happened, why you did it," Leliana prompted.

"I don't know," Dorian said, "I don't remember." He tried to, he really did, but there was just nothing, just Elden's eyes, his beautiful pale green eyes that he'd never see again, his warm arms around him as he held him close, comforting, and now they were gone. He himself had taken them away. Maker, Elden deserved so much better, why had any of this happened? Dorian always knew one or both of them would end up dead before this was over but not like this, never like this.

"Not good enough," Leliana said. "What about before—"

"Before I killed him?" Dorian cut in. "Before I murdered the Inquisitor? You mean before all of that?"

"Yes," Leliana said without missing a beat. "Who are you working for?"

"Working for?" Dorian repeated automatically, not understanding the question.

"Have you been with the Venatori the entire time?"

"What? No!"

"Did they finally give you instructions to kill the Inquisitor after you managed to gain his trust?"

"How dare you!" Dorian said, because he had left everything to come south, but he stopped. He hated the Venatori, what they stood for and what they had done to his mentor, his friend, but the rest was true, wasn't it? He knew Elden trusted him. They had become close and Dorian had betrayed all of that, just as the rumors said he would.

Leliana's gaze was pure steel. "Then why did you do it?"

"I don't know," Dorian said, sagging, no anger left because it might as well have been true. He might as well have been working for them.

"You don't know? You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe whatever you like," he said in defeat. It was all just so pointless. "It doesn't matter anyway, he's dead after all." He wished he'd never come south. He had wanted to make a difference even if it all ended in his death, but instead he had killed the only man- "Why are we still talking about this? Why am I even still alive? Any other assassin would have been disposed of long ago. You've clearly figured this all out, so I'd appreciate it if you could just get this over with already!"

"No," Cullen snapped. "You aren't leaving this room until you tell us everything we want to know, every last detail whether you want to or not."

"Please," Josephine prompted, tears in her eyes. "Just give us something we can use, anything, even if you think it might be inconsequential."

Dorian couldn't see why. What was the point if Elden was dead? No, he should call him the Inquisitor. He didn't deserve to use his name anymore, not after what he had done. Maker, was this really happening? He just wanted this all to end. Maybe if he gave them something they would end it. He didn't deserve to be here or alive after he had hurt him, he certainly didn't deserve it now that he knew he had killed him. "When I woke up I remembered being concerned for the Inquisitor, but that hardly matters now. It was only a dream, after all." It was ironic in retrospect. Painfully so.

"Emotions with no memories and I've been told you have nearly an entire day missing," Vivienne said as she entered, brushing past Cassandra and the Iron Bull. "Tell me, darling. Have you been experiencing any headaches? Any trouble focusing or persistent aches since your untimely captivity?"

"How do you imagine you'd feel after taking a tumble down a mountain?" Dorian couldn't help but snap. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Emotions are much more difficult to erase than memories. Blood magic is a possibility we should consider, my dear."

"You must be joking," Dorian scoffed. He had seen the fear and desperation in the faces of the Venatori who had captured him. If any of them had attempted to cast anything so sophisticated, Dorian would surely recognize the burning hangover such a sloppy spell would cause. "It would take someone of considerable skill to perform such a thing. Are you really suggesting such a ragtag group could possibly cast it? On me, of all people?"

"It would be a neat trick, wouldn't it?" Vivienne continued. "And rather ironic too, casting it on the only Tevinter fighting on our side and forcing him to kill the Inquisitor."

"Vivienne," Dorian said, teeth gritted. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but—"

"And where exactly did you get a knife like that?" Vivienne interrupted. "Such an interesting design, with the skull and snakes. I haven't seen another like it. It definitely looks Tevinter. Did you bring it with you?"

"That's—" Dorian began, but stopped. Where had he gotten it?

"Don't be so quick to sacrifice yourself, my dear. It would be a pointless waste."

But it was all pointless now without Elden, wasn't it? "It doesn't matter, none of it does. Kaffas, Leliana, just end this already. You can't seriously be considering—"

"Leliana, please," Josephine said, interrupting him.

"No, we still don't know—"

"Of course we do! Surely you've heard enough," Josephine said before turning to Dorian. "Elden is alive. He's badly hurt but he's alive. The healers are with him now."

"What?" Dorian asked, turning on Leliana, not allowing himself to believe it.

"Yes," Leliana replied coolly.

"You were going to let me believe that I—that he—" Dorian's voice failed him and he backed away from her, too angry to really form the words.

"How could we trust you if you wouldn't even tell us what happened?" Leliana said. It was cruel yet practical, although Dorian thought the blade of her dagger would have been kinder.

"I think it's fairly clear some form of blood magic is at play here," Vivienne interjected. "Conveniently difficult to prove, of course, but the alternative implies he was able to so thoroughly fool us all, which seems highly unlikely."

"Thanks for that," Dorian said bitterly. He couldn't bring himself to care about that right now. It didn't seem right to hope he was innocent when he had betrayed Elden. But he pushed all of that out of his mind. Elden was the only thing that mattered. If he was alive, truly alive, he had to see for himself, to know that he would be safe before whatever was to happen next. "I want to see Elden. Immediately."

"No," Leliana said.

"No, you don't get to make that decision, not after you lied to me. I demand to see him before anything else."

Leliana studied him for a moment before looking to Vivienne. Dorian didn't take his eyes off of Leliana, but whatever signal she received seemed to be enough, because after a moment she nodded.


Dorian came to a stop before the door to the infirmary, suddenly uncertain. He needed to know that Elden was alive, that he was going to be okay, but that was ultimately a selfish wish, wasn't it? How could he truly be all right after what Dorian had done to him? And how could Dorian face him? It was selfish too but he didn't want to see the betrayal in his eyes, or the pain he had caused. He had to, though. He owed it to Elden to give him this, so he took a deep breath before pushing into Elden's room and there he was, sitting up in a bed even, and blessedly alive despite the bandages across his torso, his pale complexion and the dark circles under his eyes.

"You look terrible," Elden said and Dorian was surprised that he was able to muster a smile that looked so genuine. Maker, the world didn't deserve this man.

"A far sight better than you, I imagine," Dorian replied.

He had only taken a few steps into the room when he came to a stop, realizing he was afraid to even get close to Elden. Dorian ruined everything he touched, so he supposed it was only a matter of time before he ruined this, but he couldn't risk hurting Elden again. He tried to look relaxed and at ease as he crossed to the window and leaned against the frame, as if he wasn't standing in the room with a man he cared for greatly and had tried to kill mere hours before. As if Cassandra wasn't waiting silently near the door ready to nullify his magic or simply kill him outright if he made any sudden movements.

Unfortunately, Elden saw right through him, as he had a terrible habit of doing. "How are you feeling?" he asked with more concern than he should. Why was he always doing that, caring so much when he had no right to? Didn't he know how dangerous it was?

"Oh, very well as I'm sure you can imagine," Dorian said with more sarcasm than he had intended.

"I hope the others haven't been giving you any trouble?"

"Considering the state of things, I'm surprised I'm not locked up." How was he supposed to have a casual conversation with this man? He felt the desire to apologize, but that would be for himself, wouldn't it? He certainly didn't deserve to be forgiven, that was for sure.

"Dorian," Elden said, but seemed to think better of whatever he had been about to say. Instead he sighed. "Won't you come here?" he asked, reaching out to Dorian.

"I'm not so sure that's wise," Dorian said, trying to sound light, trying to make this easy on the both of them. "I imagine there's some sort of distance I'm supposed to keep, otherwise Cassandra will come charging in here after my head. I'm actually surprised she let me in the room at all."

"I asked her to."

"Just like that?" Dorian asked, appalled, finally looking Elden in the eye. He'd barely realized he was avoiding looking at him. "I nearly kill you and you aren't afraid I'll try it again?"

"Do you want to?" he asked, as if he was genuinely curious and not at all concerned about his response.

Maker, he was infuriating. Did he have any idea how dangerous all of this was? He could have died! Dorian could have killed him! "Can you really believe anything I have to say?"

"And you're back to answering everything with a question," Elden said, having the gall to look disappointed, as if the worst that had come out of all of this was Dorian's evasiveness.

"Is this a game to you?" Dorian shouted. He knew he was balancing on the brink, that he had to rein himself in or lose all control of his emotions, but he couldn't help it. He was terrified and angry and he just couldn't. "Do you know how easy it was? I could do it again and you wouldn't even fight back, would you?"

"It wasn't you," Elden said, and he sounded too certain.

"You can't know that. You're the only one who thinks it, anyway."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"Dorian, I know you, and I know this wasn't your fault. Please come here."

"You—kaffas, you naïve, idiotic fool!" Dorian shouted, throwing his arms in the air as he paced restlessly, fuming. "Do you have any idea what you're playing at here?"

He spun around to face Elden again, finger raised and ready to lecture the Inquisitor, but somehow Elden had managed to stand and approach. He was deceptively quiet when he wanted to be for such a large man. Before Dorian could react he was pulled into a tight embrace. He froze for a moment before he tried to push Elden away desperately.

"Please," he gasped, unable to say more, his voice suddenly hoarse and unsteady.

"What?" Elden asked and he had the audacity to stroke his back gently, soothingly.

"I don't want to hurt you again," Dorian said, closing his eyes tightly as if that could stop all of this from happening. He couldn't stop it before, how was he supposed to stop it now? What if he killed Elden this time? He couldn't live with the knowledge of what he had almost done, he couldn't—

"Then don't push me away."

It was too much and Dorian broke. He collapsed against Elden, relieved that his arms were still so warm, so gentle. He sobbed into Elden's chest, clinging to him. As his legs gave out, Elden dropped with him and they knelt together there, just holding each other tightly. He remembered how Elden had reached out to him, held his hand after Dorian had stabbed him and he was so angry. Why couldn't this infuriating man fight back, push him away, kill him? He should have defended himself. Dorian would rather die than hurt him again. But instead, like the coward he was, Dorian simply let Elden hold him.