Author's note: This is the continuation of Chapter 4!
Dorian wakes to the scent of jasmine tea and fresh bread. He opens his eyes and quickly realizes he fell asleep in the library, books still splayed open on the table in front of him. His neck aches a bit from the odd angle he slept in, and the numb feeling has alarmingly settled in his chest. He sits up, stretching his muscles and yawning, and spies the mug of hot tea and a warm croissant sitting on a little patch of open table to his right.
And there, leaning against the table a few feet away with a book in hand and a smirk on his face, is Vax'ildan. He is wearing simple dark pants, with a light blue tunic that flows around him gracefully. There is a pendant hanging from a cord around his neck. The elf looks up from the book as Dorian stirs.
"Inquisitor…" Dorian says groggily.
"Vax." the elf corrects him.
"Vax'ildan." Dorian retorts almost instinctively, remembering their joke. He clears his throat and nods at the book Vax is holding. "I didn't realize you were interested in the history of rune crafting."
"Is that what this is?" Vax says, raising his eyebrows. "I just liked the pictures." He gives Dorian a wink.
"I'm sure we can find you a children's book if you prefer. Or perhaps one of Genitivi's works? That's basically the same thing." Dorian quips stretching against the back of the chair.
Vax lets out a laugh. His voice is slightly lower than normal, a byproduct of the healing process, and the sound hits Dorian in the gut. Vax closes the book and sets it down on the table. He gestures to the offerings beside Dorian.
"I thought you might like some breakfast."
"That's very kind of you." Dorian replies, taking a sip of tea. It's hot and sends a wave of warmth through him. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, enjoying the moment.
"Late night?" Vax'ildan produces his own mug and takes a sip.
"Quite." Dorian confirms. "It's been some time since I've fallen asleep working. I must say I missed it a little."
Vax smiles a bit, then pokes at a couple of the other books on the table. Dorian takes the opportunity to assess the elf. He looks good, his color has come back and his bruises are fading. The bandage poking out of the top of his tunic is a little frayed, suggesting that he hasn't had to change it recently. Vax shifts slightly, and Dorian notices a wooden cane resting on the table next to him that he hadn't seen before.
"Would you like to have a seat?" Dorian asks, worry creasing his forehead. Vax shifts a little, a hand rubbing the area Dorian knows is jagged and sore, and winces a little with the effort. Dorian stands and pulls out the chair next to him. Vax hesitates for a brief moment, before slowly lowering down into the seat. His movements are stiff and careful, but if he is in any true pain he hides it well.
"Thank you," He offers once he is comfortable. He takes another sip from his mug. Dorian sits back down beside him. He takes a sip from his own mug as Vax begins casually sifting through his notes on the table.
"So. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning?" Dorian asks casually. He reaches over and picks up a couple pages before Vax gets to them and tucks them away. He looks over to see Vax studying him carefully. "Is there…something you want, Inquisitor?" he adds playfully, realizing now they are slightly closer than would be considered socially acceptable. He catches the playful smirk creep onto Vax's face.
"You, actually." Vax responds casually. His tone is conversational and nonchalant, but something about it sends chills up Dorian's neck. "I wanted to make sure you were alright." His hand is resting on his mug, dangerously close to where Dorian's own sits, wrapped around his own cup. A flex of his fingers would be all it takes for him to close the distance and brush against Vax'ildan's skin. "They released me from the infirmary yesterday morning." Vax continues, shaking Dorian out of his daydream.
"So I heard." Dorian says, raising his mug to his lips. "How exciting. I'm sure you must be thrilled, I can only imagine how luxurious it must have felt crawling into your bed instead of those atrocious cots in the infirmary."
"Do you think about my bed often?" Vax says in a whisper. Dorian freezes, momentarily stunned.
"That is," Dorian continues. He goes to set his mug down but his fingers shake just enough that he almost spills. "I'm sure you much prefer to be back in your own room, without being poked at by healers every hour."
"Yes, it's nice to have a sense of normalcy again." Vax says breezily. He lazily picks a piece of the croissant from Dorian's plate and pops it in his mouth. "Although that means I was swarmed with paperwork again as soon as Josephine found me." He lets out a small, over dramatic sigh. "I snuck out as soon as she was distracted by some asinine squabble some of the Orlesian guests were having in the hall."
"Well, we will have to make sure we keep you hidden as long as possible!" Dorian jokes. "Although, I admit that I might be poor company presently. I'm afraid I'm in for another exciting bout of rigorous research."
"Can I help with anything?" Vax asks.
Dorian sits back in his chair and lowers his gaze. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He looks down at his hand resting on the table and feels that ever present numbness. He sits there in silence for a moment before he remembers he owes Vax'ildan an answer.
"I could use some fresh air, actually." He says lightly. "Join me, won't you?"
"Lead the way." Vax stands, grabbing his cane and bowing slightly.
The pair walk out of the library onto the stone walkway that connects the main tower to the battlements by Cullen's office. It's early morning, the dew still fresh on the grass below and the promise of a new day on the wind. The cool air feels wonderful on Dorian's skin. He sets his mug down on the stone wall and takes in the view. He isn't sure he will ever get used to the picturesque scenery that surrounds the castle.
Vax rests his back against the wall, turning to face Dorian, and sips his tea. The pair sit in friendly silence for several minutes. A gentle gust of wind kicks up around them and Vax'ildan's black hair catches and flows beautifully around his face. He has part of it tied back, but the rest of it flows freely just past his shoulders. The reddish brown of his tattoos shine against his skin, and highlight the gold in his eyes. His sharp nose and chin cut his profile perfectly. Dorian knows the statues they inevitably build of this man will never fully do him justice.
A small, brown feather pokes out from Vax'ildan's tunic, catching Dorian's eye.
"What's that?" He points, raising an eyebrow.
Vax looks down and grabs the pendant in his palm, smiling. He holds it up so Dorian can see it better. Hanging from the rough cord around Vax's neck is a brown feather attached to an intricately woven and beaded pendant in the shape of a halla.
"My sister, Vel'aria, made it for me." He explains with the warmest smile Dorian has ever seen. "Growing up, I would follow her around everywhere. She was a scout, and could move through the trees so fast I swore she could fly. I called her Sparrow. I wanted to be just like her. As I got older, it became clear that my skill set was better suited for tracking and hunting. I was devastated that I couldn't follow in her footsteps. She called me her little halla, and said that it was better this way, that the sparrow needed a guide on the ground to help her find her way back home. She made this for me as a reminder that we would always be there with each other, guiding each other so we could never get lost."
It's easy to forget that the Inquisitor is just a man. The Inquisition and everything it stands for is so grandiose that the man leading it often becomes inflated into this divine figurehead, larger than life itself. Dorian is grateful for this reminder that Vax'ildan isn't some divine prophet sent down from the heavens but is, in fact, a man. The most beautiful man he has ever known.
"Where is she now?" He asks softly.
"She's back with Clan Lavellan in the Free Marches." A sadness begins to creep into Vax's eyes and he drops his gaze to the ground. "I'm not sure if she even knows that I'm alive." His hand gently wraps around his pendant.
"I thought the Inquisition sent word to your clan of what happened at the Conclave?" Dorian asks.
"Sure, but that was months ago. Before Haven…before all of this," he gestures around the castle. "So much has happened since then. It feels like years since I left my home."
"Surely you could write to her?" Dorian suggests.
"And tell her what? I'm stuck in a foreign land with people who would kill me in a second if it weren't for this weird mark on my hand that somehow connects me to a war with an evil magister trying to destroy the world?"
"Fair point." Dorian notes. "Maybe not all the macabre details, but at least something so she knows you're ok?"
"What would be the point? It would only cause her to worry. I don't see a way that I go back to my clan after this is over. It would be kinder to let her go now."
"You won't return to your clan after all this?" Dorian asks.
"Assuming that I even make it out of all of this alive?" Vax huffs. "No, I don't think I can. I'm different now, this," He holds up his left hand, "Has made me something else…someone else. I don't know that I can just go back to life as it was before. Not with everything I've seen since this all started."
Dorian's heart breaks a little listening to Vax'ildan. The burden he carries is so heavy, he isn't sure how one man is meant to carry it alone. He looks down at the pendant in Vax's hand.
"Even if you can't go back to how it was, you still have her. That is a precious thing, indeed, Vax'ildan. You shouldn't be so quick to let it go."
Vax closes his eyes for a few moments, thinking. He lets out a sigh and opens them again.
"Perhaps you're right." He runs a hand absentmindedly over this abdomen. "Thank you, Dorian" He says with a smile, placing a hand on the mage's shoulder. "For helping me remember what's important." He turns to face the courtyard below them, watching as more and more people begin to flow in and out as their days begin. Dorian lets Vax's hand continue to rest on him.
"What about you?" Vax asks, finally removing his hand. "Do you have anyone back home worth writing to?"
Dorian lets out a small laugh.
"Well. Let's see. You've met my father already." He says dryly, recalling their unfortunate encounter in Redcliffe. Vax had been an unwilling participate in his family drama that day as Dorian finally confronted his father about all his past transgressions against him - including using blood magic in an attempt to control and coerce him into being who his family legacy needed him to be instead of who he is. Dorian is no stranger to melodrama, and even he had been impressed at his own spectacle.
Vax had swept Dorian out of the small tavern they were meeting in after hearing what Magister Halward Pavus had attempted to do to his own son, but not without first spouting his own choice words at the man. They hadn't spoken about it since that day.
"I'm afraid my mother isn't much better." Dorian continued bitterly. "I do have someone that I write to when I can. She is the only person I truly miss from my homeland, and probably the only person I can call a friend."
Vax offers Dorian a smile before gently bringing a hand up to his face. His hands are calloused from his bowstring, but still warm and gentle. He leans forward and plants a small kiss on Dorian's forehead.
"I'm your friend too, Dorian." He says softly. There's a sincerity in his tone that pulls at Dorian's heartstrings. He fights a losing battle with the smile that pulls at his lips.
"Thank you, Vax'ildan."
Vax stretches carefully and turns back toward the library door.
"So…what exactly are we researching today?" He calls over his shoulder.
Dorian stands there, frozen in place like a fool. He can't tell the Inquisitor that he's lost his magic - what good is he to the Inquisition if he can't do the one thing he has bragged about nonstop since his arrival? And admitting it feels too…vulnerable. He has never let anyone see him in his weakest moments and, this is by far the weakest he has ever felt.
But he was so open and kind. He thinks to himself. Am I incapable of showing that same openness? Surely if there is anyone across all of Thedas he could open up to, it would be Vax'ildan. Vulnerability is a weakness, Dorian. He hears his father's words in his head. You must control it, or it will be used against you by everyone around you.
"I can't…" He starts to say. He drops gaze and stares at his feet. Venhedis, why is he still listening to his father? After everything that man has done, why do his words still hold so much weight? He takes a deep breath and fights every instinct in his body. "I can't feel the Fade. My magic is gone."
It's Vax'ildan's turn to stand there, frozen.
"How did…" He begins to speak but stops quickly, realization hitting him. "...Oh." His gaze lowers to the ground. There's a pause as awkward tension begins to build between them.
"I haven't found anything useful yet." Dorian says after several moments of silence, trying to return to normal. "I think I'm going to have to send for more specific tomes from Tevinter." He runs a hand through his hair.
"I can help with that!" Vax offers a little too quickly. "I mean, I can send an official request from the Inquisition if it will help you procure what you need."
"Thank you, Inquisitor, but I don't think Tevinter will look too kindly on a request from the Inquisition."
"Right…" Vax shifts his weight, readjusting his cane. He looks out over the courtyard again, before his eyebrows shoot up and an idea strikes. He turns back to Dorian with an excited expression. "Why don't you talk me through what you've got so far? I saw your notes earlier, maybe talking it through with someone else will spark something you didn't see before?"
"That's…actually not a bad idea." Dorian says, stroking his moustache. The pair grab their mugs and begin to head back inside, any awkward patches growing between them seemingly repaired for the time being.
As they approach Dorian's study table, the plate that once held his fresh baked croissant is now empty, only a few crumbs left behind.
"Fenedhis, Sera!" Vax calls as the sound of footsteps and giggles trail above them. "Na abelas, lethallan!" The sound of her blowing raspberries echoes through the circular tower. Vax looks back to Dorian with giant, golden puppy dog eyes. "At least you got to enjoy your tea."
"That's alright! Sera will just have to owe me later!" He raises his voice enough at the end of his sentence that he can hear the echo around the chamber. Once he is certain she heard him, he sits back down at his table with a flourish. "Right. Let's see if any of this makes sense." He pulls out a couple pages of notes and begins explaining, in elaborate detail, the minutiae of the Fade and its properties to a very overwhelmed looking Vax'ildan.
Vax sits in the red lounge chair in Dorian's nook of the library for several hours, listening to the mage talk about the most tedious and complex aspects of the Fade like one might talk about their beloved puppy. His hazel eyes light up when Vax asks him a clarifying question, and he begins to pace and gesticulate wildly when he gets excited about a topic. Vax couldn't help the grin that is plastered to his face while listening to Dorian.
"So, how does it feel to cast magic?" Vax asks during one of Dorian's brief pauses.
Dorian considers this question for a long time, one hand under his chin.
"Magic is fundamentally the creation or manipulation of energy from the Fade. If you know the desired outcome and the right equation, you can pull at the Fade to your will." He moves his hands gracefully through the air as if controlling an unseen force. "Of course, it gets much more complex if you want to do the really fun stuff." He wiggles his eyebrows at Vax. "One can bend reality and force something into being if they are skilled, or crazy, enough to attempt it. Others still, present company included, can even overcome the barriers of time…theoretically." He adds with a wink.
"That sounds…incredible!" Vax breathed.
"Indeed, it is, my friend!" Dorian retorts cheerfully. "But it requires extreme discipline and rigorous training to master. It is a precise and tedious art." His tone gets more serious and he bends down next to Vax, their cheeks almost touching.
"Think of knocking an arrow." He pushes a hand forward, focusing on a point across the room from them. "The arrow must align perfectly to achieve the shot. You need the exact right tension on the string, the right angle for the release." He gazes sideways and the pair lock eyes for a moment. "Otherwise, the effects can be catastrophic." He breathes, a low rumble. Vax's eyes flick to Dorian's lips so quickly he almost doesn't catch it.
"The amount of…control…that must take is admirable." Vax says softly.
"You have no idea." Dorian smirks devilishly.
"Inquisitor?!" Josephine's voice carries up the stairwell around the corner. Dorian stands up and turns back to the table with his notes. She clears the top of the stairs moments later, writing tablet in hand and frowning.
"Good morning, Dorian," She says cheerfully, "Have you seen…ah, Inquisitor." She turns as she spots Vax, still sitting in the chair, eyes locked on Dorian's back.
"Josephine!" Vax greets her with a slight sigh that she chooses to ignore. "Are things settled with the Orlesians, then?" He asks, flashing her a winning smile.
"Yes, we were able to come to a mostly agreeable solution for all parties." She finishes with a slight bow. "But, unfortunately I need you to attend to a few more matters." She gestures down the stairs in the direction of her office. "If you'll accompany me, please."
Vax stands, grabbing his cane and smoothing out his tunic.
"Of course!" He says, his voice honey smooth. He turns to Dorian, who is still engrossed in his notes, as he leaves. "Bring me the names of the books you need. I can help you track them down."
"Of course, Inquisitor." Dorian nods but doesn't turn around as Vax and Josephine descend the stairs. Dorian lets out a sigh and sits back down a table, cracking open the closest book and flipping to a random page. He reads the words without really processing any of them and flexes his hands, still stinging like pins and needles. A smile tugs at his lips as his thoughts drift back to those golden eyes and beautiful lips that had been so close to his a few moments ago.
Once again, all Elven is taken from the Dragon Age Wiki.
Na abelas - you'll be sorry
Lethallan - friend