A/N I like Dorian, although I can't seem to garner as much approval with him as I would like -.- Sorry for the lack of Cole guys!

Ah well, for all you Dorian fans out there, here you go!

#2 I'm Here

You could say a lot of things about Dorian. He was a mage. He was from Tevinter. He was cocky, headstrong, and self-entitled.

That being said, there were a lot of things you could not say about Dorian. He wasn't a coward. He wasn't complacent with how things were. He wasn't without sympathy nor compassion. He wasn't a bad man. Just...brought up different.

Aziff wasn't thinking about those things right now, although she would be later. All she hoped right now is that Dorian would not let go of her hand for the Maker's sake!

Dwarves didn't do well with open air. Height wasn't something you encountered underground a lot. Depth was something she was used to; a hole so dark you didn't know when the bottom was coming, but you knew it would be your last.

Dangling off a jagged cliff side in the Storm Coast with only your questionable mage to hold up left the Inquisitor with a very, very clear view of how she would die; rocks, ground, and gravity. Two of the three looked very small from her perspective.

"For a dwarf, you are heavy." Dorian grunted above her. She was sure the metal plates of her gauntlet were digging into the unprotected skin of his hand.

The weight was, of course, the armor, but it wasn't like she could do much about that now.

She lurched down, her stomach nearly dropping out from under her and beating her to the ground. Dorian tossed his staff aside and used both hands to grasp at her; a renewed vigor as he struggled to keep her up. He was concentrating hard. Sweat beading on his forehead and one eye scrunched. His body was tense and taunt, what muscle he had desperately trying to be enough...

"Bull!" Aziff shouted when she noticed, horrified, that her mage was slowly but surely slipping forward, towards a similar fate as her own. The sound of combat never dinned above her and no response was made to her call.

"Dorian, you have to let go." Aziff demanded. Just past his pecks were now starting to show. Crumbling dirt and dust lightly rained on her.

Would she survive the fall? Probably not. But Andraste could burn in a pyre a second time before she would let any more noble blood be spilled in her name.

"What and drop the Herald of Andraste?" - a grunt- "Not going to happen, my dear."

My dear. Never 'My Lady'. Never 'Your Grace'. Just my dear. She had always liked him for that. She hated titles.

More chest peaked over the cliff side. It now seemed as though he were leaning down to her.

"COLE!" She felt the name leave her lips with desperation. It was too late for her, but not for Dorian. The spirit probably wasn't strong enough to pull them both up, but one would do.

Something niggled in her mind, like a nug rummaging around for food. It was something else; the name was just there, sitting heavy on her lips, but she knew it wasn't just to save Dorian, as bad as that sounded. If she could just see him...

Poof.

It was something that was felt, not seen or heard. Typical Cole.

Dorian let out a sudden high pitched squeak and was yanked violently backwards with a strength that she was sure Cole didn't posses. She knew because she was dragged right along with him and got a mouth full of dirt. Surface dirt wasn't bad, strangely enough; she had tasted worse.

Coughing, Aziff glanced up. Cole had one of Dorian's ankles and the Iron Bull had the other, with the poor necromancer face first in the ground.

"Fighting, then air. Stomach lurching, wind whistling. He caught me." Cole spoke.

"Boss, you alright?" Iron Bull unceremoniously dropped Dorian's leg and stomped over to her. With one hand, he righted her.

"Fine," The inquisitor answered, "But I wouldn't have been had Dorian not saved me."

The mage, who had been helped up and partially dusted off by Cole, shot Aziff a winning smile.

"Well, we couldn't just have our Inquisitor die on us like that, could we? I do believe I've just saved our cause. You owe me."

"Ground against metal. A blur. Ice runs through veins, but it's not magical like before. He sees her and he fears frightening things. No more death please not another one."

Cole's narration silenced all. Dorian, doing as Dorian does, shatters it like a frozen enemy.

"Well, yes, yes. That's what I'm here for. Saving damsels and lighting the way with my scary Tevinter magic. Lets press on shall we?" Retrieving his staff, the mage leads the way.

A couple of hours later, Aziff corners him in camp.

"Thank you...for what you did today."

She couldn't bring herself to say it. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for risking yourself for me. Why did you do it? She wasn't ready to admit her experience yet; how close she had actually been to death. It scared her. What terrified her even more was how ready she had been for it to claim her.

The necromancer waved it off. "Think nothing of it."

But she couldn't. "But you almost...you know...for me."

Another noncommittal gesture. "Nobody would have died."

Okay, that amount of understatement was almost insulting.

"Dorian-"

"Don't."

His tone was suddenly sharper. The flattered humility was gone, replaced by a word that cut through her proffered gratitude like a blade through bread.

"Don't...don't thank me Aziff. It's what I'm here for."

The dwarf tilted her head slightly. "And what exactly is that?"

"What, besides saving you from cliff sides?"

"Yes."

He sighed. It was like he was expelling sadness instead of air.

"I want change, Inquisitor." That hurt. He used the title. "For me. For my homeland. For the world. I just want a change for the better for once. You can do that, I believe. I have faith in you."

He retired to his tent shortly after the statement, leaving Aziff to wonder what it was that had ever made her doubt Dorian in the first place.

Not a coward. Not a bad man.

Just different.