Then the sky exploded, a sickly green color that he had hoped never to see again. All the relief Dorian had felt, all the joy at victory, of Nyra alive, was wiped away with the new Breach in the sky. The Maker was a cruel god, indeed.

Immediately, he raced down to the stables to see it was in full chaos. The stable hands were saddling every horse they had. Blackwall and Cassandra were already there in full gear, sheathing their swords. "What's the news?" he asked.

"Don't know," Blackwall said. "But whatever happens, we're ready for it."

Quickly, the other members of the Inner Circle rushed in, some in more complete sets of armor than others. Cole was doing his part by teleporting himself around to different places and finding missing pieces.

"Please tell me this is all a bad dream," Varric said, pulling on a glove as he strode in. Bianca was already ready, a quiver of bolts at his side.

"Unfortunately, no," Nyra said, walking in. She looked pale, more so than usual, but other than that she looked stronger than she had in months. "Corypheus is in Haven. He's making his last stand, so now it's time for us to meet him." Her back was straight, her shoulders squared, a resigned, but resolute, gleam in her eye.

She walked over to her hart and grabbed the reins, but before she mounted, she turned to the nine of them. Dorian heard the shuffle of armor and knew that the three advisors and Morrigan had joined them.

"We have come so much further than any of us could have hoped," she said. "I am so proud to have fought beside each and every one of you. I count every one of you as a valued friend, and I hope you might say the same of me. Our journey has not been easy, but we have come through victorious at every turn. Today will be no different. Today, we end this. Will you all fight for the Inquisition, one last time?"

"Today, and every day," Blackwall said, fist over his heart.

"Do you honestly think I'd let you go without me?" Sera asked.

"We all stand with you, Inquisitor," Varric said, gesturing to everyone standing near him. They all nodded.

For a moment, Nyra's smile seemed almost unbearably sad, but then it was gone. Dorian wished he could pretend he had imagined it.

"Then we ride," she said, mounting her hart. They all found their horses and filed out of Skyhold, a small, serious band.

Nyra set a steady pace, riding just ahead of the rest of them. It wasn't a full gallop, as the horses couldn't sustain the pace all the way to Haven, but neither was it a walk.

Dorian tried to pull close enough, but the pace did not encourage conversation. However, she did look at him with such a raw expression, he didn't have to. She knew it was her last battle, and, despite all her words, she was terrified. But she would follow through because that was what she always did. She had said her final goodbyes as best she knew how and almost everyone knew it at this point. He saw it in the clench of Cassandra's hands as she gripped the reins too tightly, in the frown Blackwall wore - even more serious than usual - and in the fact that neither Varric nor Sera cracked a joke once.

It was a somber party that finally arrived in Haven, but then the battle was upon them and they had no time for tears or goodbyes. There was a would-be god trying to destroy their world to deal with first.

Then it was over. Corypheus was gone, destroyed by the very Mark he had unitentionally created.

As the rift Nyra created flicked from view, Dorian saw her crumple in a heap. Bull, Cole, and he rushed forward, Cole managing to fade from view and reappear by her side just in time to catch her before her body hit the ground.

"Is she…?" Dorian asked, unable to force himself to say the words.

Cole paused for a moment, looking forward, listening. "She's not here anymore." Dorian sighed, pressing a hand to his face. "She wasn't happy to leave, but she was still glad. I could feel it. She felt… free. Like something had been binding her, caught, constricting, crushing. Now it's gone. Light, like the air, free to fly."

Dorian kneeled next to Cole, brushed a few strands away from her face, pulled them past the tip of her ear. "She never wanted to hide them. She'd like that," Cole said.

I hear what they say, see their looks, she had told him once. They see me as inferior because of my race, even as they call me their Herald. I cannot control what they say, nor do I have a mind to. But no matter what, I will show them that I am an elf first, and proud of it. And that is why I will never hide my ears. The Inquisition and Thedas itself will see them and know I am not ashamed. They will know I am not afraid of their words.

That had always been her silent rebellion, and he would make sure it remained.

"Come on," Bull said, taking Nyra from Cole's arms and turning back towards the ruins of Haven. "We need to find the others."

When they saw, some soldiers cried out in shock and Sera screamed profanities until Blackwall managed to hush her, but other than that, there was no noise from anyone. They were a silent, somber party that slowly made their way back to Skyhold. Bull held Nyra with one arm, the other guiding his mount forward, while the rest of the Inner Circle formed an honor guard around the two of them. The soldiers fell behind the party, all except for one soul who pushed his horse ahead to go and tell the rest of the Inquisition the results from the battle. And the losses they had suffered.

He saw Cullen standing at his desk, clutching a report in his hands so tightly that the paper quivered. Dorian stepped out from under the doorway and leaned against the wall, distracting his hands by pulling out a book and flipping it open. His eyes scanned over the words, but his mind didn't register what they were seeing.

"Can I help you with anything, Dorian?" Cullen asked, the weariness evident in his tone.

"Simply wanted to see how you were holding up," he said, voice deceptively light. "Haven't seen you outside your office much in the past four days."

"I'm fine," Cullen said, stubbornly glaring at his report. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're allowed to miss her, you know," Dorian said. "There's no rule that says you can't have a heart. You were her friend, as much as any of us were."

"The Inquisition is leaderless," Cullen argued. "I need to focus on the task-"

"The Inquisition has more than just you, last time I checked," Dorian shot back. "And last time I checked, Leliana and Josephine were mourning like the rest of us. No one can begrudge you that."

Cullen refused to answer, simply staring straight at his paper; his glare looked like it should have burnt right through the report.

Dorian slammed the book shut and forcefully set it back in place. "Dammit man," he growled, whirling on Cullen. "You can't just shut yourself in here and kill yourself with work! Talk to someone, go take a walk, do something, anything. Nyra wouldn't want to see you like this, and you know that better than I."

"Don't tell me how to mourn," Cullen growled, finally looking up at Dorian instead of the parchment in his hand. He glared at him for a moment, before his face fell. "She put everything she had into the Inquisition. I will not see her hard work go to waste."

"I'm not trying to stop you from doing that," Dorian argued. "But you can't keep doing this every waking hour of every bloody day!" He paused, taking a deep breath to stop himself. "She poured her heart into the Inquisition. We all know that. But she also let herself have time apart from work. You may not think it will help you, but I don't think you're helping yourself by burying yourself under all these reports." He took an envelope out of his jacket and slapped it on the table. "Leliana found that when she went through her belongings. She wrote one for each of us. You should read yours."

Cullen stared blankly at the back, his name written in familiar, elegant script. After a long moment of silence, he nods. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Dorian. Is there anything else you need?" he asks, voice stiff and back straight again.

Dorian repressed the urge to slap the man, to do something to get more of a reaction out of him, rather than allowing Cullen to retreat back into himself. However, he decided that right then was not the time and that he would have to try again later. "Not at the moment, Ser. I'll leave you to your work." Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out. At the doorway, he paused and turned his head to look back. "We were planning on having a round of drinks tonight, for her. You should join us."

Cullen didn't reply, instead flipping to a new report. Dorian sighed, shaking his head.

Please look after Cullen.

Bloody impossible task when the man doesn't want to be helped.

He could practically hear her laughter in his ear. You can be just as stubborn as he is, when you want to. Don't give up on him just yet.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and breathed deeply. For you, I'll try.

Dorian,

[Various lines of writing crossed out]

Creators, this is difficult. I think Josephine will have my head for all the sheets of parchment I've ruined. You know I've never been very good at words. Still, for you, I will try.

Firstly, I suppose I should apologize for not telling you sooner. You did deserve to know, and not in the way I told you. I'm sorry.

I am glad for the time I knew you. If someone had told me that I would become friends with a mage from Tevinter, I'm pretty sure I would have laughed. And yet I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have fight beside me in the battles we faced. Thank you for everything. Not just for fighting with me, but also for the… less violent memories. I can't believe you and I managed to read through the entire library. I still don't think Leliana believes us. And thank you for all the helpful notes on potion-making and spell casting. I hope I gave you a useful piece or two of information in return. You should keep up the notes we started. Who knows what brilliant idea your brain might find in them?

You once called me your best friend. I don't know if I ever returned the sentiment. If I haven't, I do now: you are my best friend as well, Dorian. I hope you know how much your friendship meant to me. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I know you will become something even greater than you already are (yes, a difficult thing to do; I'm sure you'll still manage it).

If I might ask, a favor from you: please look after Cullen, if you're still with the Inquisition after all this is over. Make sure he doesn't work himself to death. I know you're his friend as well, so I suppose it's redundant in a way. Still, I had to ask.

There's so much else I could say, but I'm not sure how to say it. I'll let the memories speak for themselves, I suppose.

Thank you for everything. I love you.

Nyra