Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Part III: Armistice After an Ancient War

The rest of the journey to Skyhold was long, but uneventful. Their presence marching throughout multiple countries brought comfort to some and anxiety to others. Crossing the Waking Sea was mildly troublesome, but they got across with everyone over a four day journey across the water. Dorian got seasick, but being in Halamar's nice suites on the ship was a great help for his associated traumatic memories of the water. Halamar had to talk him down from panics about drowning more than once. They were both quite grateful when they got back to land in Highever.

In Highever, Halamar picked up their steeds from the stable they had left them in, and paid the stable master a good tip. He greeted his Brecilian hart with glee, an emotion he hadn't experienced in almost a month. He spoke to his steed in Elven while Dorian fed his own horse.

“Assan! My friend, I'm sorry you couldn't go on the boat with us. I'm sorry we left you here. Yes, you must be very mad. Oh, none of that, now. We're riding back to Skyhold today. Alright, alright, does someone need to go for a run first?” Assan made an excited whine. “I'll take that as a yes.” Dorian joined him on his horse when he took Assan out to a nearby field to run around. Not long after, the Inquisition set up camp outside the city of Highever for the night.

From there, it was few weeks' journey with such a large caravan. Their next stop was at Lake Calenhad's main docks, with a domineering view of the old Ferelden Circle Tower. Halamar wondered what it was being used for these days without a Circle to occupy it. From Lake Calenhad, it was a straight shot to Skyhold, about another week.

When they at last arrived at Skyhold mid-afternoon a week later, the first thing they saw was the massive prisoner camp set up at the fortress' heels: a massive empty space filled with cheap tents and a few tables with blankets to be distributed to all the prisoners, surrounded by Inquisition guards. Halamar hardly saw the point of the blankets but also saw no point arguing about it.

They were greeted by the rest of the inner circle past the gates. Halamar dismounted from his hart as they crossed the gate, and after, Dorian, Varric, and Cullen followed suit, all but Varric holding onto their steeds' reins. Horsemaster Dennet and some of his stable boys approached to take the steeds to the stables. Halamar pet Assan's nose before letting him go.

Leliana and Josephine were the first to approach them. “Inquisitor!” Leliana greeted him. “We already know everything.”

Josephine added, “There are matters we must discuss with you.”

“How urgent?”

“Semi-urgent at best,” said Leliana.

“Then it will wait for the war table. In fact, if there's nothing immediately urgent, I want the rest of the day to myself. I trust your people can handle the prisoners, get them into the camp?”

“Of course, our soldiers are already on it,” said Cullen.

“Good. Is there anything immediately urgent?”

“Well,” said Josephine, “you should know the Tevinter Imperium has expressed deep concern about your recent actions in the Free Marches, as have many cities with alienages.”

“Unsurprising,” said Dorian.

“Good,” said Halamar.

“I see no profit in angering the Imperium, Inquisitor,” said Josephine.

“It isn't about our profit, Josephine. It's about doing what's right in this upside-down world. That also doesn't sound immediately urgent.”

“Perhaps not immediate in the sense of people imminently coming to harm,” said Leliana, “but you should be abreast of these developments.”

“The Inquisitor's exhausted, you two,” said Cullen. “Let him rest.”

“We'll leave you be in a moment,” said Leliana. “Inquisitor, you should also know that many alienages around Thedas are rebelling after your adventure in the Marches.”

“I want to support the elves in any way we can. But we'll discuss it at the war table.”

“Of course,” said Leliana. “And Inquisitor, Dorian, welcome back to Skyhold. It has been quite quiet without you around.”

“And we missed your kindness and charm, Nightingale,” said Dorian.

Halamar smiled at his advisors and excused himself from the conversation. Varric was already catching the others up, confirming and denying rumors they'd heard. Halamar joined them, standing beside Dorian. Cassandra was the first to address him, saying, “Inquisitor, let me be the first of us to say we are sorry for your great loss. May your people's souls find comfort at the Maker's side.”

“Thank you, Cassandra.”

Solas spoke next, “It is good you have returned successful. Justice be done. Mythal enaste mala aravel.”

“Ma serannas, Solas. Your words mean a lot.”

“Pbbbt. Speak so I can understand you,” said an irreverent as usual Sera. “You got all the pissers that killed your clan, didn't you?”

Halamar answered proudly, “Yes, we got them all. You can observe them at the prison camp outside if you want.”

Blackwall said, “Lavellan, we heard you and Pavus beat up some prisoners. Is that true?”

Halamar nodded and said, “They were both confessed rapists, and they got what they deserved.”

“The way you went about it, then, sounds personal.”

“Yeah, doesn't it just? I'll say no more about it right now, if you don't mind.”

“Fair 'nough.”

“Is it true you two killed a shitton of Venatori by yourselves?” asked an impressed Iron Bull.

“Yes, we did.”

“Ahahaha! You two are like a pair of saarebas yourselves! I don't know whether to be more impressed or worried by you.”

“You're fine, Bull, as long as you don't go raping and killing kids today.”

“Well, shit. Not to worry, Boss, we're good. Good on you.”

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” Blackwall remarked.

“Will do.”

“Did you really frighten a noble's trousers off by opening a fade rift nearby?” asked Vivienne.

“Oh, that was brilliant,” said Dorian proudly. “That noble called him a slur and he told the hateful brat to fuck off. It was truly a sight to see.”

“ Not my exact words.”

“Well, I'll certainly be hearing about it at soirees for years to come,” Vivienne said, her rolling eyes more heard in her tone than seen on her face.

Cole approached next, speaking in a poetic cadence, “The sweet smell of grass in his hair, the Beloved and His Heart embarked on a quest to bring peace by means of a war of an ancient kind. Grasping, panting in his rest, the Beloved can't sleep without his Heart by his side, stilling his rage, his despair with nothing but tenderness. He tells his Heart he's dying, a death slow and quick all at once, his mind drowning in violation and death. My Heart, without my body, you're my purpose now, my need of needs. Heart wonders, am I enough?” He paused and looked at Dorian from beneath the brim of his hat, saying, “You are enough for him.”

Dorian and Halamar gave him a smile. Dorian said, “Thank you, buddy.”

“I missed you, Cole,” said Halamar.

“So, what's the plan now?” asked Varric.

“The plan now is, with his permission, I'm going to take this one to my quarters for a while,” said Halamar, taking Dorian's arm.

“Oh, of course you have it,” said Dorian with a smile.

Sera giggled, “Someone needs a lay and a nap.”

Halamar smiled and continued, “Correct. Anyone who wants to can meet us for drinks at the tavern later tonight.”

“Count on it. Me and Bull wanna hear about all the pissers you killed,” said Sera.

“You're damn right we do,” said Bull.

Dorian smirked, “We'll be there. Now, if you'll excuse us, The Inquisitor and I have some vitally important diplomatic relations to attend to.”

“And in fact, it's so vitally important that I don't want us disturbed unless Corypheus attacks. Tell my advisors that, someone,” added Halamar with a grin. Sera snickered as the lovers excused themselves.

Dorian and Halamar walked side by side, arm in arm as they ascended the stone stairs up to Skyhold's main castle, and when they got to the tower leading to Halamar's quarters, Halamar led his lover swiftly by his hand, running up the stairs with Dorian in tow.

Once in his quarters with the door shut behind him, Halamar leaned his back against the nearest wall and pulled his lover into a deep kiss. Dorian returned the kiss with intense passion, running a hand down his torso and thigh. Halamar sighed contentedly into his mouth, hooking a leg around his hip, pressing his hips against his own.

“Amatus, I have so missed the privacy of this room.”

“We can be as loud as we want,” said Halamar, shrugging off his Keeper robe. Dorian likewise shirked his jacket onto the floor.

“Please, please do,” said Dorian as he kissed his neck, making him gasp and sigh. Halamar curled his fingers into his lover's back, sliding his hands beneath his tunic.

“Aah, vhenan...” Halamar sighed as his lover's wandering hand found his stomach beneath his shirt, sliding slowly up his chest.

“My lips yearn to touch you...” Dorian trailed off, kissing the skin beneath his ear.

“Please...”

Dorian pulled Halamar backwards towards his bed by his waist. He stopped before they could fall onto the mattress, pulling his lover into his arms to kiss him. The lovers began disrobing each other slowly as Dorian's lips and hands explored him. They parted lips only to take their shirts off, wanting, needing, pressing skin to skin.

When fully nude, Dorian and Halamar fell together onto the bed, side by side in each other's warm arms. Their hands slid across each other's bodies, their lips on each other's lips, necks, and shoulders. Dorian grabbed an ass cheek with a smirk and sank his teeth into his lover's neck.

“Ahhh... gods, vhenan, please touch me,” Halamar begged. “Please, make me relax.”

Dorian grinned and nibbled his lover's ear. “I can do that, amatus,” he answered confidently as he rolled his lover onto his back, sliding his hand down his left side. He started kissing Halamar's neck, hearing him gasp as his lips trailed lower, down his bare, scarred chest. Halamar bent a knee to hook around Dorian, and Dorian stroked his lifted leg as he pressed his lips to his sternum. He sighed beneath his lover's touch, closing his eyes to simply enjoy the sensations of it all.

“Vhenan...”

“Hmm?”

“Hold my arms down...”

Dorian chuckled, dragged his tongue up his lover's midline, and started kissing his neck. Halamar gave an elongated sigh below him from that, which Dorian enjoyed before ever so gently restraining his wrists, which were resting upon bent elbows near his shoulders. Halamar gasped and smiled. Sinking his teeth into his neck, Dorian loved all his lover's gasps and moans, little and big. He smirked as he kissed his ear, nibbled his earlobe, and he whispered, “Oh, amatus, I could just ravish this body of yours...”

“Please, I want you to...”

In the shower later on, Dorian had Halamar pinned to the smooth stone tile wall. Halamar's arms were wrapped around Dorian's neck and shoulders, his legs wrapped around his hips as Dorian held him up and against the wall. Dorian held their bodies in place for a moment before Halamar dismounted his hips. They shared a deep kiss, Dorian running his left hand down the length of his lover's body, slowly traversing from his face, down to his neck, torso, and thigh.

“How was that?” asked Dorian.

Halamar uttered into the warm, steamy air, “Incredible. We haven't done it like that in a while. I love you so much, Dorian.”

“I love you too, Halamar. You're amazing.”

“ You're amazing,” he replied flirtatiously.

Dorian chuckled, “So I've heard.” His right-hand fingers now curled through his lover's hair, starting to gently detangle it. Halamar closed his eyes and smiled when he felt Dorian's fingertips brush against his scalp, leaning his face on his lover's shoulder.

“It's good to be back,” said Halamar. “Things can almost be normal again.”

“Almost, anyway.”

Halamar began washing his skin with a bar of rose-scented soap as he said, “I have to start judgments tomorrow. Fucking hell, so many people.”

“Ten or so a day. You'll be through it in a week. Maybe you should hire an executioner.”

“No, Dorian, it has to be me.”

“Makes sense. I was only joking, amatus.”

“Ah, alright. Come here, vhenan,” said Halamar, pulling his lover's face closer, pressing his lips to his. Dorian moved his lips with his lover's, his fingers curled around his yellow tresses. Halamar's left hand wandered down his lover's chest as Dorian pressed his body to the cold stone wall.

The sunset's warm orange rays burst through the thin window in the bathroom, reflecting in the flow of water from the shower. The lovers were again engrossed with each other. They kissed each other's necks and shoulders, each letting out low “mmmm” sounds into the air. After a few minutes, Halamar said with a laugh, “Alright, vhenan, I should actually wash off.” He pecked his lips once before Dorian gave him enough space to wash himself. He started running the soap over his body as Dorian began washing his own hair.

“So,” said Dorian, “plans for the rest of the week?”

“Between all the judgments and executions, and all the associated paperwork, I was hoping to spend as much down time with you as possible.”

“So was I, amatus. It's good to be back in your fortress.”

“At home with you.”

Dorian smiled. “Like I said. Good to be back.”

They finished up their shower, rinsing each other off and kissing each other's skin. They wrapped towels around their waists and sat by the fireplace. Halamar started a fire with magic and sat beside his lover on the carpet, leaning onto his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around his back. Dorian snaked both arms around Halamar's shoulders, tenderly kissing one side of his face.

The fire picked up strength, flames licking the logs, radiating warmth against the cold mountain air. The heat evaporated the latent water on their skin as Halamar leaned to kiss his lover's lips. Dorian's fingertips trailed down his left side as he moved to kiss his lips. Their hands joined between their laps and their kissing grew messier. Halamar began to lay Dorian down on the floor below him, but Dorian stopped him, “Amatus, not my freshly cleaned hair on the floor, please.”

Halamar giggled. “My apologies, posh boy.”

“ I am posh, it's true.” Halamar grabbed his face between his hands and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. When they parted, they smiled warmly at each other, meeting each other's eyes. He gave him a warm touch to the cheek before rising to his feet. He let his towel fall to the floor before getting dressed as Dorian watched. Dorian got dressed next before hugging his lover from behind, lightly kissing his neck.

“Oh, vhenan...” Halamar said coquettishly.

“Amo te, amatus,” said Dorian, squeezing him around the waist.

“La ar lath ma, Dorian. Thank you for being in my life.”

“Of course, Halamar. I'm always here for you.” The sun had now set fully behind the mountains, and Halamar's stomach let out a loud growl. Dorian said, “Let's get some supper into you.”

“Soon. I'm enjoying being held by you right now.”

“Fair enough. I'm told I have strong arms.”

“Hehe. You do. They're great for holding your man close.”

“One of my favorite things to do,” Dorian replied, holding his waist tighter while nibbling the sensitive skin below his ear. Halamar sighed happily, leaning backwards into his lover's embrace, reaching a hand back to stroke his hair as he closed his eyes.

“Ma vhenan...” Halamar breathed, trailing off.

“Love of my life...” said Dorian quietly near his ear with a wide smile. He pecked down his neck a few times before resting his cheek on his lover's shoulder, looking at him. He asked, “Amatus, are you ready to go?”

“To the tavern? Yes. Let's go. We have some friends to catch up with.”

The pair left Halamar's quarters together hand in hand. They walked down the tower steps and into the main hall, where they wrapped their arms around each other and walked side by side. They were greeted by a few visiting nobles. They heard one noble whisper to another, “How romantic!” Once out of their sight, they smiled at each other before descending the next set of stairs. They strode across the courtyard towards the tavern. Halamar exchanged a glance with Cassandra from across the way and invited her to join them with a gesture. She followed them into the tavern, just several steps behind them.

When the pair entered the tavern, Bull, Sera, Varric, and Cole were already seated at a long table in the back. Varric waved them over. Halamar and Dorian got drinks at the bar and refilled Dorian's flask with brandy before joining them. “Anaan! Tell us everything!” exclaimed Iron Bull, lifting his drink.

“ I'm going to need to get pretty damn drunk to tell you everything .”

“Then let's get you started! I want all those gory details! Tell us how you killed all those Vint assholes.”

“And how the frig were the Venawhosits involved in what happened to your clan?”

“Guys, guys,” said Varric, raising his hands to calm them, “It was a harrowing ordeal. Give the man some space.”

Halamar took a long swig of his ale and slammed the mug on the table. “It's helpful to talk about it, but I warn you all now: I might cry as I talk.”

Cassandra walked over as he said this and responded, “That would be more than fair, Inquisitor. Show some respect, all of you. He just lost everyone he once knew.”

Halamar's brow furrowed until he felt Dorian's hand on his shoulder. He looked at him and Cassandra and forced a thin smile for them. “Thank you,” he said to them. Cassandra took a seat at the table with a glass of wine in her hand. Halamar went on, “The Venatori planned this, and it was a slaughter. And it wasn't just the forty-three total murders. There were rapes, too.”

“Maker...” Cassandra trailed off.

“The Venatori and the rapists are all dead,” said Halamar, his knuckles white against his mug.

“Good,” said Cassandra, Bull, and Sera simultaneously.

Cole stared off into the light of a candle in the distance and began to speak in a wistful solipsism. “The humans are coming. Have to get away. Running. Hiding. Keeper, help me. No, no, get away—”

“Cole, please,” Dorian cut him off. Halamar was shrinking into his chair, trying to hold back the water behind his eyes. A single tear ran down his cheek, at which point Dorian gently placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Sorry,” said Cole regretfully. “I could feel her hurt through you. It's... good that you killed the men who did that.”

“Yes, they deserved to die,” said Cassandra.

Cole went on, “That kind of violence... I've never seen it before.”

Halamar stared past them all, taking another long swig of his ale. “I just... hearing what my little girl went through... Executing those people, even beating a couple of them nearly to death, will never have been justice enough. I wish I'd had them all flensed.”

“Your 'little girl'?” asked Cassandra.

“You have a daughter?” asked a surprised Sera.

“Had a few. Clan Lavellan raised our kids collectively. They were all our children. I had twelve kids. Auretharia was the oldest, and she was the youngest victim of those men,” Halamar explained flatly, ragefully. Dorian began stroking his arms, watching his facial expression souring. A silence took over the table.

“The bloody fuckin' pissers,” Sera grumbled. “Hurting kids what couldn't fight back.”

“It's good they're dead, Boss. The people you executed. We—well, they—always kill rapists under the Qun. You can't let anyone else get the idea they can do that without repercussions.”

“I'd have flensed them myself,” said Cassandra.

“You have seventy-odd judgments ahead of you, Inquisitor,” said Varric. “You could flense any one of 'em if you wanted.”

“True, true... Now that makes me feel better,” said Halamar. He could continue now.

“I dunno what the hell 'flensed' means,” said Sera, “but it sounds gruesome enough.”

“It means I wish I'd cut off all their skin and fat until they died,” Halamar explained, finishing his beer and ordering another one. Cabot the barkeeper came over, took his mug, and returned with it full of more ale a moment later.

“Daaaaamn. Scary, but deserved,” said Sera after a silence.

Soon, everyone's food arrived, and people began to eat. Halamar barely ate. He and Dorian shared all the bloody details of killing seventeen Venatori by themselves in a single night, how Halamar stopped a second pogrom on the alienage practically by himself, and how they beat and executed the rapists among their prisoners. About how long the pyres burned and how the children's spirits lingered. How they rewrote the laws of Wycome on their way out the gates. Halamar needed a few drinks to get through it all. Dorian continued to lightly, supportively touch his lover's arms and shoulders.

By the end of the night, Halamar had begun telling happier stories of when his clan was still alive through drunk tears. “Oh, the misadventures the kids would lead me on sometimes. A few times, the kids found ancient ruins, which were always fascinating. I'd teach the kids how to learn from ruins. I would take the Keeper there later, and we'd study the history and magic we found.”

“What kind of ruins?” asked Dorian.

“Out in the Marches, Tevinter, usually. And an Elven one once. Haranae and Aradhel always had a knack for finding artifacts in those places, too. My kids were so brilliant. Creators, I still can't believe they're gone...” He began to softly cry again as Dorian took his hand. He continued, “I thought I'd be more together than this, I'm sorry...”

“Halamar, you gonna be alright?” asked Sera.

“He needs his Heart,” said Cole.

He shook his head and answered, “I'm dying inside. I don't know.”

“Oh, no,” said Dorian. “Why don't I get you to bed, amatus?” Halamar nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. The pair stood up together. Dorian put his left arm around his lover's shoulders and his right hand on his right shoulder. They bid their friends good night. The others looked on with surprise and concern, most of them having never seen the Inquisitor in such a state.

Dorian took Halamar back to his tower quarters, shielding him from others' gazes. Not many people were around at this time of night, but there were still a few nobles who had yet to clear out of the main hall to their guest rooms.

Once alone in his room, Halamar wrapped his arms around Dorian's middle and loudly wept. He said to his lover, “I thought I'd be ready for that. I really did.”

“No one's ready to talk about such things. Especially when it's still so raw.” Dorian held his lover close and stroked his hair behind his long ears, kissing his forehead.

“I love you, Dorian...”

“I love you, too. Just let it out.”

Halamar sobbed profusely into Dorian's shirt as his lover gently stroked his hair and back, gently kissing his scalp. He spoke, “Vhenan... I can't do this. I can't cope. I'm going to feel this heartbroken forever.”

“I'm here.”

“Everything hurts. This will be the death of me.”

“I'm sorry, amatus. Shh, I'm right here. You'll be alright.”

“My mind keeps coming back to the question, why. I mean, I know why, but there's no sense to what happened to my clan. Why the rapes? Why even go to the damn effort?”

“You know, you're very good at talking when you're beer-drunk... but I don't know. It's like you said, there's no fucking sense to it. The perpetrators deserve everything coming to them and more.”

His sadness turned to anger, which felt better than despair. “Killing the killers back will never be justice enough. They deserve to suffer.”

“They do.”

“But if I'm as cruel as they deserve, people will just keep calling the Dalish savages. I don't care what they say about me. I care what they say about my people.”

“That's quite a predicament. I understand, I think. Being 'the good Tevinter' is nice, but what they say about my countrymen—”

“ That's different, Dorian. Tevinter's entire system is wrong. Slaves are everywhere. Many of the enslaved are my own people. Most of what they say about Tevinter is deserved. Now, the Dalish, on the other hand, are practically always defending ourselves, yet somehow we're the savages. No, slavery is savagery. Genocide is savagery. Virtually all magisters are savages who own people.” Halamar's heart pounded, and his head throbbed.

Dorian sighed. “You're right, Halamar. I spoke thoughtlessly.”

“I just can't stop thinking about Auretharia...” Halamar sniffled and sobbed, for the moment unable to speak.

Dorian tightened his hold around him, kissing his scalp. He said, “I'm sorry. I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could wave my fingers and magically undo everything that happened to your people.” Halamar was silent. Dorian asked, “Love, do you want to get ready for bed?” Halamar nodded. Dorian said, “Alright, amatus. Let's go brush our teeth.” Dorian led him to the washroom and began brushing. Moving slowly through his dissociation, Halamar did the same. After he finished, he rinsed the tears off his face and buried himself in Dorian's arms.

His lover held him close and said, “Amatus, do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Halamar nodded into his chest, wrapping his arms around him tighter. “Alright. I love you, Halamar. I'll be right beside you.” Halamar looked up at him and kissed his stubble. Dorian smiled and kissed his lips softly, resting a hand on his cheek. He kept the kiss brief, not wanting to overstep with his lover's current state, and offered a slight smile, his eyes still sad.

Halamar began to cry again. Dorian wiped his tears away with his sleeve before kissing his forehead. “Amatus, you'll be alright. I'm here. Tomorrow, justice continues, however you want it to play out. That's the great thing about being in charge.” Halamar smiled up at him with melancholy upon his features. Dorian kissed his forehead again, then his closed eyelids.

After sharing a long, loving stare, Dorian kissed him once more before starting to lead him to his bed, extinguishing all the candles as they went. The pair undressed to their underclothes and slid under the blankets together. Dorian made certain that Halamar was sleeping on his side facing away from the bed in case he threw up while asleep, and held him close from behind. “I love you so much, amatus,” he said, taking his lover's hand in his as he kissed the nape of his neck. Halamar softly cried himself to sleep that night. His lover's presence tempered his grief a small amount, just enough so that he could sleep at all. He dreamt of his children, both their joy and their suffering intertwined into a maelstrom of a dream.

When he awoke, Dorian was already up, his fingertips ever so lightly caressing his arm. Halamar stirred, his head pounding with a hangover. His lover whispered in his ear, “Good morning, amatus. How are you now?”

“Well, I can speak again, vhenan.” He gasped and closed his eyes when he felt Dorian's lips on the side of his neck, sliding down to his shoulder before trailing back up towards his ear. His hands pulled him closer to him, gently stroking over his undershirt. Halamar gave a breathy sigh, guiding one of Dorian's hands beneath the hem of it. Dorian smiled and kissed the skin behind his lover's ear. “Gods, yes,” Halamar unintentionally murmured.

Dorian slid his hand up his lover's chest slowly and whispered, “What do you want to do?”

“I want you. Distract me. Take me.”

“As you like it, amatus,” said Dorian with a smirk, sinking his teeth into his lover's neck, making him gasp as his hand slipped further up his chest.

Later on, the lovers washed up and got dressed for breakfast. They had ham, eggs, toast, and coffee with a few of their friends. Dorian poured some brandy into his own coffee and offered some to Halamar, which he accepted. At the table with their friends, Halamar said, “I'm still hungover from last night.”

Bull replied, “In a way that might be a good thing. Pissed off means harsher consequences for the fuckers you're judging today.”

“You're hungover, but you're drinking more this morning?” asked Cassandra.

“You'd want to drink in my place.”

Dorian said, “Still, drink some water or some juice or something, amatus. It'll help.”

“Ugh, fine.” Dorian kissed his cheek.

“I've noticed you two have been a lot more publicly affectionate since you returned,” Cassandra remarked, a smile on the corner of her lips.

“I noticed that too,” said Bull, working on his massive plate of food.

“Well,” said Dorian, “maybe I realized some things are more important than the social conventions of a country I'm no longer in.”

“Good on you.”

“Aww, you two! Don't make me cry,” said Sera, annoyed at her own emotions. Halamar empathized with the experience.

“I'm glad to see it,” said Halamar, smiling at his lover. “I adore you, Dorian.”

“And I you, amatus. Inquisitor.” The lovers smiled at each other and drank their brandied coffee. Halamar drank some orange juice as well, at Dorian's suggestion.

The friends ate more of their breakfasts together, and as they all finished eating and putting their dishes away, Halamar's heart began to pound against his rib cage. He had felt normal, but suddenly, horrible images of rape and murder flooded his mind again. His hands shook with anger and grief as he put his plate, silverware, and cups into a bin to be washed. Dorian put a hand on his shoulder and said, “You're going to do great work today, amatus.”

“Thank you, vhenan.” He turned around to the others and asked, “Bull, could you do some sword training with me this week?”

Bull laughed excitedly and replied, “ Fuck yeah, Boss.”

His determination expressed in his fists at his side, Halamar said, “Thank you, Bull. Now, I have to find Josephine. I'll see you out there.”

“Indeed you will,” said Dorian. Halamar offered his friends half a smile before leaving the room.

He found Josephine in the main hall standing near his throne, her silk ruffles glittering in the sunlight pouring through the stained glass windows, her clipboard with a candle on it in hand. Attached to the clipboard was a massive stack of papers, just barely able to fit in the clip. Halamar approached her with his hands in his pockets and a serious expression.

She greeted him, “Inquisitor, whenever you're ready, we can begin today's judgments. There are ten in total scheduled for today.”

“I'd like to get through it now, Josephine.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.” There was a look of melancholy guilt on her face.

Halamar put a hand on her shoulder and said, “I don't blame you, Josephine. I blame myself and the shiteheels we're about to judge.”

“ I blame my self, Inquisitor,” she replied. “I should have—”

“Josephine, you followed my orders. The fault is mine. Now, who's first on the docket today?”

She looked at her clipboard and answered, “That would be one Baldric Grey. Confessed to killing three Dalish adults and three Dalish children, as well as the twins Rhiannon and Caelynn Meliamne, with a bow and arrows, Inquisitor.”

“Let's get started, then.” Halamar looked out into the crowd that had gathered. He only just noticed them all. About half the crowd were human nobles, coming to rubberneck at a tragedy after it was done. Most of the other half of the crowd were elves: some servants on break, many city elves, and what seemed to be perhaps a quarter of Clan Mahariel were in attendance. Halamar took his seat on the throne, resting his face on his left hand with his elbow on an armrest. He met eyes with his lover and friends across the hall before turning his attention back to Josephine, who began projecting her voice across the hall.

“Attention, honored guests of the Inquisition. The judgments of those responsible for the murders of more than three dozen elves, including the entirety of the Inquisitor's Dalish clan, as well as several sexual assaults, are about to commence. I ask everyone to please wrap up your conversations so we can begin.” The crowd immediately began to gather at attention and listened closely as Josephine asked the guards to bring out the first prisoner to be judged.

Two Inquisition soldiers brought out a young man clapped in irons, bringing him before the Inquisitor. Josephine said, “This is Baldric Grey. By his own confession, he is responsible for eight murders, five of whom were children. He is responsible for the deaths of Arundel, Nylanna, and Elrohir, three Dalish adults; Jandar, Celebrian, and Idril, three Dalish children; and Rhiannon and Caelynn Meliamne, two elven children from Wycome who defended the Dalish. He also stood by while his friend Saul raped and murdered another Dalish girl, aged fourteen.”

Halamar said, “You had better have a good defense prepared, shemlen.”

“We were poisoned by red lyrium in the water—”

“So were nearly all the humans of Wycome. I don't see all the humans of Wycome here. Only fifty of you took part.”

“The guards told us to kill all the Dalish, and we couldn't think enough to argue.”

“I'm not buying it, Baldric. I think you couldn't think enough to argue before the red lyrium. You also let a rape happen, and to a child no less. Does that sound normal to you, shemlen?”

“It wasn't us, it was the red lyrium, Inquisitor... but I have no defense, it seems.”

“And I have no sympathy for you. You die by my sword. Bring out the next one.”

The guards took Baldric away and came back with Antoine the Second. Josephine made a note on her clipboard before switching to the next set of sheets. She announced, “Next is the son of the late Duke of Wycome, Antoine the Second. He riled up the people of his city against the elves, and by his own admission, the duchy's water supply was separate from the rest of Wycome's and contained no red lyrium. His actions were entirely his own.”

“So, you lack the luxury of an insanity defense. I can't wait to hear this,” said Halamar.

“As I told you before, I will not be baited. I recognize none of these proceedings.”

“Too bad. Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“It was the elves' own fault! They poisoned the water!”

“There is evidence to the contrary, and you know that very well. Don't you dare lie to my face like you lied to your whole city.”

“It doesn't matter. I do not recognize this as valid court proceedings.”

Josephine said, “Several nations and Marcher cities have said they will defer to the Inquisitor on this matter. Your words killed dozens of innocents. Justice must be done.”

“This conversation is going nowhere,” said Halamar. “Have you nothing useful to say?”

Antoine the Second was silent.

“You die by my sword. Take him away.”

The rest of the day's judgments went in a similar fashion. The executions came next, over on a platform by the battlements. Halamar let them speak any last words they had before bringing down his sword onto their necks. A few said they were sorry before dying; Halamar didn't care.

When all was done for the day, Halamar found Dorian near the front of the crowd. He met eyes with him from a distance and motioned with a jerk of his head towards his tower quarters with a raised eyebrow. Dorian smiled at him and nodded.

Halamar reached his quarters first, taking off his leather jacket and falling backwards onto his bed, covering his eyes with his right hand and forming a fist with his left. He took a moment to try to breathe deeply. He drew one of the side curtains on his bed frame to block out the sun before focusing on the ceiling, counting the stone bricks until the bedroom door opened with a squeak.

Dorian asked, “Amatus, how are you after all that?”

“Exhausted and furious. Come here, vhenan. Lie down with me a while.”

“Of course,” said Dorian as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He stroked his lover's arm before laying down on his side facing him, sliding one arm beneath his head to be a cushion while the other hand gently held him and stroked him over his clothing. “You did good work today, amatus.”

“I'm already roaring to go for tomorrow. I made sure we're starting with the guard-captain's son. That fucker needs to die and soon.”

“I'm still haunted by that interrogation, to tell the truth,” said Dorian. “He 'lost count' of how many he killed, but he's 'sorry.' Right. Big fucking deal. Eight children are dead because he had to impress his father.”

“His father couldn't even do it himself, the fucking cunt. Sent his shit-eating son and his friend to do it instead.”

“The cretin deserves to die, as does his father.”

“The father is next.”

“Excellent choice.”

“I want that man to know what it is to lose a child, since he ordered the deaths of mine.”

Dorian softly kissed his vallaslin and pulled him in closer. “I understand completely. In your position, I'd probably do the same,” he said. “You're doing an astronomically difficult thing. I support you completely.”

Halamar rolled over to face him, stroking his face with his fingertips, his face painted with melancholy and hope all at once. He had to find some levity or he'd burst. “At this point, the biggest difficulty is for my poor tired arms. I'm not a warrior. I need to be physically stronger for this,” he said with almost a chuckle. “I've no problem emotionally with slicing their heads off.”

“I told you you were the strong one.”

“Still, I need to get my arms about as strong as yours,” he said flirtatiously.

“Oh, you tease. You swing that sword with such flair, you know.”

“Really?”

“Really. You make it look easy up there.”

“At least there's that,” Halamar laughed and smiled before pulling his lover's lips to his own. Dorian returned the kiss softly, stroking his back over his shirt. Their lips clicked lightly against each other, Halamar's forming a genuine smile. He looked happier when their lips parted, and Dorian pulled him into his chest next, supporting the back of his head and stroking his hair.

Dorian kissed his crown and whispered, “Amo te tam multo, amatus.”

“La ar lath ma, vhenan. I couldn't do any of this without you.” Dorian wrapped his arms around him more tightly, and Halamar did the same in return. After a silence, he seethed, “I still can't believe it's come to this. Fucking Venatori.”

“Absolute scum of the earth, they are. We'll destroy them.”

“You're damn right, we will. We'll reduce them to dust.”

Dorian kissed down the side of his face and softly stroked just beneath the hem of his lover's shirt with his fingertips. His lover gasped in his ear, and he kissed his neck to keep the sound going. “Vhenaaann,” he sighed, walking his fingers up his lover's back.

“I love it when you talk about destroying your enemies,” Dorian murmured near his lover's ear, kissing his neck with his teeth.

“Aaahhh...”

“Sensitive as always, amatus,” said Dorian, sliding his hand up his left side. He murmured into his ear, “I've the urge to just pleasure you top to bottom.”

Halamar moaned and shuddered in his arms and replied, “ Please do, Dorian.” With a smirk, Dorian pulled his lover's shirt over his head and started kissing his collarbones as he rolled him onto his back and pulled his hips to the edge of the bed. The sun began to set over the tower, showering them in deep orange light through earthly stained glass. Dorian got on his knees in front of Halamar's legs.

Later in the evening, Dorian and Halamar went to the tavern for dinner and drinks. The tavern was filled with many guests, mostly the visiting elves from around the region. When they saw the Inquisitor enter, one of the elves shouted, “Maker, it's him!” and brought the rest of the drinking elves into a collective cheer and applause.

Halamar looked around wide-eyed at everyone until Sera approached and said, “Frig, Inquisitor. You're a hero to elves everywhere. If this came from Briala or summat, I'd never believe all this change for elves shite would be more than a power grab. But you? Coming from you, I can believe in this.”

“Really?”

Sera said, “Yeah. You're being a bit scary, but it's sure as shite not scarier than what they did to your clan in the first friggen place. It's like, this is the exactly right amount of scary for you to be in this mess. Make everyone actually think twice before purging an alienage or summat. And you, I actually believe you won't forget about the elves you're helping and avenging. You did good.”

“Thank you, Sera. You usually have good instincts about people with power. I have to say, though, I expected you to be more along the lines of, 'wow, that was elfy of you,'” said Halamar, switching to a bad impression of Sera at the end.

“ Psshhh. Nah. This is just what people do. Humans do the same exact thing for murderers and rapers, at least when the victims matter to the noble shits who decide on 'justice' most of the time. You aren't being unreasonable or weird. Now go on, these people all want to meet their hero.” Sera gave him a pat on the back before heading to Iron Bull's table in the back of the establishment.

Dorian turned to Halamar and said with a smile, “Well, well, my love is a 'hero to elves everywhere.' I'm proud of you. Imagine the songs they'll compose about all this!”

Halamar smiled at him as a crowd of elves approached them. One of the women asked him, “Inquisitor, we've heard so many incredible things! Did you really execute all the rapists in Wycome first?”

“I executed eleven people there, those who assaulted members of my clan. Would that I could have gotten every rapist in Wycome. That would have been perfect.”

“Did you really disestablish the duchy for inciting the riot?”

“One hundred percent, yes, I did, and I'd do it again.” The crowed oohed.

A young Dalish man asked, “Inquisitor Lavellan, would you sign my bow? You're such an inspiration! This'll make shemlen think twice before attacking us ever again.”

“I hope you're right, brother, because that is my goal. Let me see your bow.” He signed the man's shortbow in Elven and gave it back to him.

Dorian got close to his ear and said, “I'll leave you to your adoring fans.”

Halamar took his hand and looked at him with an air of panic, replying quietly and close to his ear through gritted teeth, “Don't you dare.”

“Hah! Fair enough. I was just feeling like a third wheel.” Dorian intertwined their fingers and smiled at the crowd. He introduced himself, “Hello, Dorian Pavus, pleasure to meet you.”

“Dorian, right, I've heard of you. You're his shem lover, yeah?” asked a city elf.

“You caught me. I just love this man to pieces.”

“Aww, vhenan.” Halamar blushed and smiled. A few Dalish people around the bar looked at Halamar and his hand joined with a human's with distrust and shock. Halamar said to the crowd, “Yes, this is Dorian, he's a human mage from Tevinter, and we're together. None of what you're celebrating me for would have been possible without this man at my side. I love him to death.”

The whole tavern was listening to that. From the back of the room, Iron Bull and Sera began clapping and cheering. The applause slowly spread, not to everyone, but it echoed to fill the tavern for a short moment before dissipating.

The man who asked Halamar to sign his bow asked him, “So, how did you two end up together, anyway?”

“Oh, that story,” said Dorian cheekily. “The way he tells it, I swooped in like a big hero.”

“Well, you sort of did. Dorian saved my life from a magister when we first met. But the way he tells it, it was no big deal.”

“Wait, is Dorian not a magister?” someone asked.

Dorian sighed and said, “No, no, not every Tevinter mage is in the Magisterium.”

“Which is?”

“The senate, basically, where every senator, every magister, is also a mage. That's considered more of a happy coincidence back home.” The person who asked rolled their eyes, and Dorian responded, “Look, I know, I know. I don't like the system they have, either, and I left most of that life behind when I joined the Inquisition.”

“Okay, okay, so that's how you met. But how did you actually end up together?”

Halamar said, “I mean, to tell the truth, I suppose I was smitten from the start?”

“It's true, I friggen saw!” shouted Sera, laughing raucously with a smiling Bull. “He was all, 'There's nobody I'd rather be stranded with!'”

“Oh, that was adorable,” Dorian remarked. “From there it was remarkably... normal? I think?”

“I'd say so.”

“Flirting, gifts, all that.”

“And a bit more, I'd wager,” heckled Sera. The crowd, and Dorian, chuckled. Halamar smirked and blushed.

“Come on, vhenan, let's get food and drinks. Enjoy your night, everyone,” said Halamar, a bit desperate to not have a crowd thronged around him.

“Smooth exit,” Dorian teased him quietly.

“Oh, stop it. I wasn't ready for a crowd.” Dorian kissed his cheek and smiled at him. They walked over to the bar and ordered tonight's dinner special and a mug of rum each before joining Sera and Bull at their table. Halamar said sarcastically to Sera, “Thank you ever so much for the extra commentary tonight!”

“Oh, you know delightful lil' me, stirrin' up shite. Always at yer service.”

“And we thank you for it!” said Dorian.

“Quite a fucking day you've had, Boss,” said Bull. “How'd those executions feel?”

“Damn good, Bull. Damn good.”

“You ready for some training in the morning?”

“Sure thing.”

“You look like you've already been putting all your rage into your blows. That's good. But your stamina needs work.”

“I know. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem, Boss.”

Sunrise. Halamar awoke with the dawn from another nightmare in Dorian's arms the next morning, nude and sweating under red blankets. He nestled into his lover's chest, listening to his heartbeat for a moment while his own heart still pounded. The dream he had was so vivid, he was sure it was a memory, but he couldn't quite place it yet. Hyperventilating, he started shaking involuntarily, which woke up Dorian. His lover pulled him closer and kissed his forehead, asking, “Did you have another bad dream, amatus?”

Halamar nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Halamar sniffled and nodded. His voice shook as he said, “I think my dreams just showed me a memory I'd completely forgotten, Dorian. I wish it had stayed buried.”

Dorian stroked his hair and kissed his forehead again. “It's alright now, amatus. You're safe.”

Halamar's fingernails curled into Dorian's back as he said, “Slavers tried to get our clan when I was ten. I just remembered.”

“Maker's breath! I'm sorry, that's... I'm at a loss for words.” The lovers held each other tightly. Halamar consciously stopped digging his fingernails into his lover's skin, but still held on.

“I remember... Gods, it was horrible. I wanted to fight with the hunters and the Keeper, but she told me to hide. I stayed with a smaller group of hunters who were protecting the kids. A group of slavers flanked us, and they had mages. They were coming for us. I screamed and summoned lightning from my hands. I hit them, but I hurt myself, too, and collapsed. And—Creators, they almost caught me! When they saw I was a mage, they tried to get me, called me something like 'incensor'—”

Dorian closed his eyes and scowled. He explained, “Incaensor. It's... derogatory. A term for an enslaved mage. Literally 'dangerous substance.' Useful when controlled.”

Halamar shivered while hyperventilating. “How much would I have been worth on the market?” he asked, morbidly curious.

Cringing, Dorian answered, “It's probably best not to think about it. Breathe.”

“So, a lot, then.” A silence fell over them, their minds swimming in horrible images, before he went on, “I used that vine magic you saw to hide underground. They tried to dig me out until they were killed. Their blood dripped through the ground onto me. The Keeper had to convince me it was safe to come out when it was done. Some of us were badly injured in the fighting. Creators, we're lucky we didn't lose anyone—wait. No. Daenala died protecting us from them! Dorian, I...”

Dorian pulled him closer and kissed his vallaslin. “I'm so, so sorry, amatus. That must have been terrifying.”

“It was. Until we went to the Fade physically, I'd never been so afraid in my life. And now I can't stop thinking about the alternate version of time where they captured me, and I became a slave. What if your family had owned me? I can't even think about it without panicking.”

“Maker's breath...” Dorian trailed off. He stroked his lover's hair and held a long kiss to his forehead. After a pensive moment, he said, “You know what I think would have happened? I think The Maker, Andraste, or whatever divinity exists out there would have watched out for you. I think I would have fallen in love with you in defiance of all Tevinter normalcy, run away with you to your freedom against all odds, and you'd have been called the Herald of Andraste anyway, somehow.”

“You really think that?”

“I absolutely do. You were meant for great things.”

Halamar held him tighter and sank into his chest. “Thank you,” he said. “You mean so much to me, vhenan. I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much, amatus. I'm so sorry my country has hurt your people, hurt you, in so many ways. You were right to convince me slavery can't be reformed. It has to be abolished.”

“I'm glad you see it that way now,” said Halamar, squeezing his lover's middle and sighing deeply. “How did I ever forget this happened?”

“It was traumatic, and you were young. Your mind hid it from you to protect you. It makes perfect sense, if you think about it. Some part of you probably blamed yourself for Daenala's death.”

“I think you're right. Gods, what even is my life?”

“At times, it seems, a comedy of errors.” Dorian looked into his bright green eyes and asked, “Are you going to be alright?”

“I will be. Hold me a while. I can't believe I just forgot how Daenala died...”

“You were a child, amatus. Your mind did what it had to to get through it. Don't beat yourself over this, too. Please.”

Dorian did as his lover asked, holding him close to his heart, softly kissing his scalp. Halamar took several deep breaths in his lover's arms to ground himself, focusing on the sensations he could perceive. Dorian's warm embrace, his strong arms holding him. Rose-scented soap left over on smooth skin. The sweat he awoke in and hadn't yet noticed. Dorian's heartbeat drumming in his ear. The rising sun bursting in through the stained glass with patterns evoking trees and greenery. Birds chirping in the garden. And perhaps, the sounds of children playing? He wondered, was he imagining it? Perhaps they were some of Clan Mahariel's children, or the children of a noble family.

“Do you hear kids?” Halamar asked.

“What?”

“In the distance.”

Dorian paused a second and said, “Yes, I hear it. I wonder whose they are.”

“I was wondering the same thing. Why bring kids to executions? Kids shouldn't see this much death.”

“That's probably true. I'm sure it wasn't good for me, either.” Dorian kissed his shoulder softly as he played with his hair.

“I should get up soon,” said Halamar with a sigh. “I was going to train with Bull this morning. Hitting things might help.”

“You don't have to go quite yet, do you?”

“I suppose not. Would you kiss me, please, vhenan?”

Dorian smiled and said, “Any time you like, amatus,” pulling his lover's sweet lips to his while running his fingers through his messy tresses. They caressed each other's skin softly under their fingers and palms while their lips glided against each other. Dorian gently held his face, caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs. One of his hands in his hair, he grasped at his messy, golden tresses. Halamar had his arms around his lover, pulling his body closer as he breathed sharply through his nose. Dorian held the kiss for as long as his lover wanted, and when he pulled back, he said, “I love and adore you, amatus.”

“I love you too, ma vhenan. I couldn't have gotten through this without you.”

“I believe in you, Halamar. You could do this on your own if you had to. But I'm so happy and proud to be at your side, amatus. I'd go to the ends of the earth for you.”

“And you did, in fact.”

“I suppose I did, didn't I? I am pretty great.”

Halamar smiled at the confidence he admired. “Thank you, vhenan. I'm so grateful I have you.”

“You mean so much to me, Halamar. I'm grateful I have you, too.”

Halamar kissed him again on a whim, holding him close, running his fingers through his hair. Dorian stroked his face while he returned the soft kiss, his other hand stroking down his arm until his lover took his hand. He intertwined their fingers and gave them a squeeze. Halamar squeezed them back, bringing his lover's hand to his heart. When he pulled his lips back, he still kissed Dorian's cheek and the tip of his nose. Dorian smiled at him and said, “Come on. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“I do,” Halamar sighed. He pecked Dorian's lips and forehead before getting out of bed. As he rose, Dorian gave his right ass cheek a playful pinch. Halamar jumped and smirked down at him, a smirk which Dorian returned in kind. He watched his lover get dressed before getting up and dressed himself.

The pair enjoyed breakfast together before finding Iron Bull in the courtyard by the training dummies. Cassandra was nearby reading a book. Bull greeted them, “Boss, I was beginning to worry you weren't gonna make it! And Dorian, I'm guessing you're here to watch?”

“Oh yes, I wasn't about to miss this,” said Dorian, a tad hungrily. Halamar smirked at Dorian, and Bull smirked at both of them.

Cassandra looked up from her book and remarked, “Inquisitor, good to see you working on your physical form.”

Halamar said, “Yes, well, I'm a mage. And an elf. My arms are entirely too scrawny to swing that damn sword around sixty-something times.”

“Whatever the reason, it's important to keep up on.”

“She's right. And speaking of, Boss, we're starting with a hundred push-ups.”

“Faaantastic.”

Dorian leaned against a wall near Cassandra as he watched Halamar take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves, and join Iron Bull on the ground to exercise. Halamar focused on his anger about his clan, and everyone who ever tried or succeeded at hurting them, to get through the burn. Thoughts of genociders, slavers, rapists, and everyone else who needed to die by his hand filled him with determination. Flirtatious encouragement from Dorian helped motivate him, as well: “Very nice form, Inquisitor,” he said, staring at the shirt that clung to his back, grown wet with sweat.

“Actually, it could use some work,” said Bull. “Your hands are too far apart.”

“Fair enough.” Halamar adjusted the position of his hands in between two push-ups. Cassandra had lost her focus on her book and returned to her other favorite down-time activity of hitting a training dummy with a sword.

Once the one hundred push-ups were complete, Halamar rose to his feet and rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Bull gave him a hard pat on the back and said, “You did good, Boss, but that was just a warm-up. Drink some water.”

“Just a warm-up? Shite,” he said, laughing but short of breath. He drank some water from a nearby faucet while Bull retrieved some training broadswords from the armory.

Bull handed one of the swords to Halamar and said, “First a few basic exercises.” He ran him through several drills with a training dummy. Bull swung his sword through the air instead, presumably because if he hit one of the dummies with his strength, it was going to end up broken. Halamar, however, needed the feel of hitting a dummy. Something to latch onto, a sensation telling that something could die from his sword. He screamed as he hit it, pretending it was Saul Hayward, that he was spilling his guts onto the ground for what he did to his daughter.

After a while of this, once the straw from the dummy began flying in all directions, Bull said, “Alright, now, pretend I'm someone you fucking hate and try and hit me.”

“ Do you want me to hurt you?”

“I want you to try, Boss. Besides, you'll just patch me up—if you manage to hit me.”

Halamar shrugged and swung at Iron Bull. Bull blocked every hit with his shield-bracer or sword, but it felt damn good for Halamar to swing a sword at someone.

Bull taunted him, “Come on and really hit me! You're so fucking tiny!”

“Aaghh!” Halamar swung harder at him now, aiming for his leg. Bull blocked it with his sword.

“Haha! You almost got me that time!”

“I'll have to try a bit harder.”

“Who are you so fucking mad at, Boss?!” Bull taunted as encouragement.

“A bastard I should have flensed!”

“Try and flense me, then! I dare you!” shouted Bull. Dorian and Cassandra were watching in rapt suspense, rooting for Halamar to land a hit on him. Halamar again swung for his friend's leg, which he blocked. “Come on, Boss, don't go for the same spot twice in a row! I'm primed to block that!”

Halamar spun around and aimed for Bull's opposite side, blocked by his shield-bracer. Bull laughed before Halamar said, “This is fun! Were I not a mage, I'd love to be doing this all the time.”

“There you go, Boss! Now hit me, damn it! You're no fighter yet!”

Halamar gave Bull an eager smile before running back at him and swinging at him a few times in succession, first his right side, then his left side twice. He was short of breath but determined to land a hit on Bull. Many more swings failed to hit, but he kept feeling like he was close. Finally, he had an idea. He pretended to go for his upper leg before hitting his ankle with the broad side of his sword. Catching Bull off his balance, Halamar spun around with flair and pointed the sword toward Bull's neck, stopping just short of touching him. Everyone looked on, impressed, as Bull and Halamar froze in place a moment, Halamar catching his breath but holding his sword steady.

“Fan-fucking-tastic, Boss! You've got good control!” Bull exclaimed after the silence, digging the tip of his own sword into the dirt. Halamar did the same with his broadsword, resting his weight forward on the haft.

“Is that enough training for one day, do you think?” Halamar asked.

“Yeah, you did good. Same time tomorrow?”

“Let's do this all week.”

“ Now that was fun to watch,” said Dorian, approaching them.

“ Yeah, you would love to watch two hot guys duke it out,” Bull teased him. “You should get in on this sometime! You two with swords and spells on the field would be magnificent!”

“None of that blade stuff for me, thank you very much,” Dorian replied. “I prefer to keep my distance from the dangerous things we encounter.”

“That is fair enough,” said Cassandra. “Better to let us handle the up-front combat situations.”

“Give yourselves some credit!” said Bull. “You two killed seventeen Vints by yourselves in one night like champions.”

“Well, the Inquisitor strategized our way to victory,” said Dorian.

“Good! You really could have been a warrior, Boss. It's impressive.”

“Thank you, Bull. Now, I have to wash off all this sweat before sitting down for today's judgments.”

“Just to get sweaty again when you swing the real sword another eleven times?”

“Such is the way of things. At least it's just one bloody week.”

Dorian approached Halamar and placed his hands on his upper arms. He said to him, “Amatus, that was... quite enjoyable, in more ways than one.”

Halamar smirked at him and replied, “Oh, yeah?”

“And now I'm leaving,” said Cassandra curtly but almost with a grin on her face, walking away with her book.

Dorian replied to Halamar, “Definitely... but you could use a shower.”

“Do you want to join me?”

“How could I resist?”

Back in Halamar's tower, he and Dorian undressed in the washroom. Halamar ran a hot shower and stepped into it while still cold, quickly running the soap over all of his skin and rinsing off the lather. A moment later, Dorian joined him when the water was hotter, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing his neck. Halamar sighed into the warm air around them, reaching a hand backwards to grasp a few locks of Dorian's wet hair. Dorian's hands wandered his lover's skin up and down until he was overcome with lust. Halamar breathed heavily into the steam, leaning forward against the shower wall. His lover pressed his hips against his and pleasured him with his lips on his neck and shoulders.

“Vhenan...” he murmured happily. Perhaps now that judgments were beginning, Halamar was beginning to feel almost normal again. Justice was here, and the world felt safe again. He could relax into the sex this time, like he could before, instead of just using sex to relax him.

He was healing.

After they got dressed, Dorian took Halamar's hands in his and met his eyes. “I believe in you, amatus,” he said. “Go kick ass today.”

“Oh, I'm ready,” he replied, pressing his body closer to his as he spoke. “Just need the arses lined up to kick.”

“I believe they're lined up downstairs right now.”

“Awaiting a speedy trial.”

“More like summary. Which is more than they deserve, but still.” Dorian leaned to kiss him, and Halamar returned with his lips, curling his fingers around Dorian's as they kissed.

Halamar pulled back a few seconds later, smiling up at him. He said to him, “Thank you for your unending support, vhenan. I don't know how I'd do any of this without you.”

“With a lot less flair, certainly,” Dorian chided. Halamar smiled and kissed his cheek before releasing his lover's hands and hardening his facial expression for the people out in the main hall. They walked out of the tower together. Dorian joined the crowd near the front, chatting with Varric while Halamar entered Josephine's office.

When Josephine saw him, she greeted him respectfully, “Inquisitor, are you ready to begin today's judgments?”

“Yes, I'm ready. Let's begin.”

“Very well, Inquisitor,” she replied, following him out of the office. Halamar took his throne and waited with his hands folded. Josephine announced the commencement of today's judgments and told the guards to bring out the first prisoner. She introduced him: “Before you, Inquisitor, is Sammael Weaver, the son of the former guard-captain of Wycome. He is accused of murdering no fewer than nine Dalish elves, including eight children. His youngest victim was just one year old. His only defense is that he was ordered to do so by his father as a member of the city guard.”

“Eight of my children are dead because of you. Why shouldn't this be quick?”

Sammael replied, weeping, “I have no defense, Inquisitor. I won't use my father as a shield. Their screams haunt me every day and night! I've already tried to take my own life!”

“Is this true?”

“It is,” said Josephine. “One of our healers saved his life last night.”

“Death you shall have, Weaver, rest assured. You'll die by my sword—quicker than a lot of the kids who slowly bled out. Count yourself lucky you'll no longer be subjected to the mental screams of my people. Take him away. Bring out the guard-captain next.”

The Inquisition guards brought Sammael out by his arms, though he offered no resistance. They brought out the guard-captain next, a grey-haired pale man sobbing, “No, no, not my son!” as he was dragged before Halamar's feet.

Josephine said, “Before you now is Sammael's father and former guard-captain of Wycome, Morgan Weaver. By all accounts, he ordered the deaths of all of Clan Lavellan. His orders also resulted in several rapes and the deaths of seven elven citizens of Wycome. He has much to answer for.”

“ And why, I ask you, shouldn't this also be quick?” Halamar asked the prisoner.

“Do you think I care what happens to me now? You're killing my only son. Nothing matters to me now.”

“ Oh, how cute. Do you think I care? Your orders killed all twelve of my children. Your tears won't save your life now. You're a mass murderer, Weaver. As far as I care, your life is forfeit.”

“ Your children?”

“Yes. You know nothing of family.”

“But you're destroying mine!”

“ Shut up, shemlen. Consider it recompense for my family's demise. At least your son was remorseful. You gave the orders on the tenth of Bloomingtide, but all you care about is what's happening to you. You make me sick. You die by my sword. Bring out the next prisoner.”

The Inquisition guards took Morgan away and returned with a woman in plain clothing, her body limp as the guards dropped her on her knees before the Inquisitor. Josephine introduced her, “Before you now is former Duchess Gwenyvere of Wycome. She has been stripped of her title and holdings. She stands accused of convincing a group of twenty-two humans to attack the city's alienage a second time. By all accounts, her exact words to a crowd gathered at her estate were, 'Get the elves back. The Inquisition can't protect them all.'”

“This better be good, shemlen.”

“How dare you? I am the Duchess of Wycome and I demand a fair trial!”

“ This is your fair trial, and you are no longer Duchess of anywhere,” said Josephine.

Halamar replied to the former Duchess with a smirk, “How dare I? Quite easily.”

“What is the point of this? You are only going to kill me anyway, just like you killed my husband and son! And my daughter soon, too, I'm sure!”

“The reports about your daughter's involvement are contradictory at best. Your daughter may yet walk away from this. You, however, are the one on trial now, and you lack the red lyrium defense. Do you deny your words?”

“I deny your Inquisition! I do not recognize these proceedings!”

“Yes, I've heard that before. Thankfully it doesn't matter. You're being judged by me, like it or not. I'd count yourself lucky I'm more merciful than some of your own people. Now, answer the question: do you deny your inciting words on the sixth of Justinian?”

“I'll say nothing to you, you Dalish savage.”

At those words, many of the elves in the crowd grew audibly angry, booing the Duchess and calling for her death. Halamar shouted over the crowd, “Order! There will be order!” The crowd calmed down, and Halamar turned his attention back to the former Duchess. “Duchess Gwenyvere, your jailing or execution is on the table. You've given me no reasons to consider sparing your life. Are you sure that's all you want to say for yourself?”

“They didn't kill anyone! The people I spoke to didn't hurt or kill anyone! There is no blood on my hands.”

“ Only because I personally stopped them. Don't pretend you're innocent just because I stopped your crime at the last possible moment. You intended another massacre. The people of your alienage were terrorized and traumatized again and again. Your only saving grace was my intervention.”

“But it is a saving grace, nonetheless,” said the woman coyly and hopefully.

Halamar sighed into his hands. He hated to admit that she had a point, but at the same time, he had already sentenced several of the people she ordered into his snares to die. Resting his cheek on his fist, he gave his decision. “Your actions would have resulted in dozens, perhaps hundreds more deaths had I not interceded. You intended to kill a great many innocents. I cannot let that go unpunished. Precedent would still sentence you to death for your actions.”

“Damn you, Inquisitor.”

The guards took her away and brought out the next prisoner. The rest of the day's judgments also ended in executions, as did most of the remaining judgments through the week.

On the eve of the final day of judgments and executions, Dorian was once again spending time in his lover's tower with him. The fireplace crackled as Halamar and Dorian lay beside each other naked in bed, lightly touching each other's bare skin. Stroking up his lover's arm, Dorian remarked, “Amatus, I think you've gotten stronger this week.”

“Me too. I like it,” Halamar said, smiling warmly at him.

“How are you holding up with all this constant death?”

“Better with you. But it's not easy, if that's what you're asking.”

“You're doing well, you know. You have the nobles scared. It's a delight to see. I actually received a lovely letter from my mother on the subject.”

“Oh?”

“ She's concerned about my association with the Inquisition at all. She already was, I'm sure, but now I bet she's worried her slaves will be inspired to run away. And she is most concerned about us.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.”

“She said some awful things about you, which I'd rather not repeat.”

“I'm curious. Tell me,” said Halamar, pushing a lock of Dorian's hair behind his ear.

Dorian sighed. “The rumors are flying back home of a magister's son—me—with the dread Inquisitor. Many are saying, hoping I'm in control of you somehow and that this is all an act. My mother said... Maker, it's awful. She says it looks like you're my 'favored slave' to some. That's the only way these people would accept a relationship between two men, a human altus and a Dalish elf. My mother doesn't know whether to believe it or not.”

“ Shite. You told me it would look like you're taking advantage of me, but damn . I'm obviously not a slave. That doesn't even make any sense.”

“You don't feel that way, do you? Even a little bit?”

“Not at all, vhenan. You're sweet, and gentle, and so conscientious with me. Now, this 'favored slave' gobshite, is that seriously the only way they'd accept such a relationship? In a situation where consent is impossible?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“There's no reforming that cesspool of an institution.”

Dorian kissed his forehead and smiled at him. He paused for a moment before saying, “You know, if we get married, that will really stir up shit in the Magisterium. Do you want that?”

“Absolutely. That sounds fun.”

“Of course it does,” said Dorian with a chuckle. “I adore you so much, amatus.”

“And I adore you, vhenan.” Halamar kissed him on the lips with a question on his mind, his fingertips running along his lover's chest. When he pulled away, his heart was pounding, and he asked, “Dorian, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“In the future, if we get married... what do you think about kids?”

Dorian's eyes widened. “I presume you mean adopting little ones ourselves?” Halamar nodded. Dorian paused, deep in thought, before replying, “Truthfully, amatus, I don't know if I'd be any good at being a father. I know what it's like to have a parent who drinks too much.”

Halamar stroked his cheek and replied, “I understand that, but you are not your parents, Dorian. There have been times when you've drunk less lately. People can change if they try. I've seen it.”

“I may be too set in my ways.”

“Give yourself some credit, vhenan.”

“ Do you want kids? I thought, after everything that's happened...” Dorian trailed off.

“Someday, I think I'd like to again, yes. I won't be ready for a while yet, though. Losing all my kids... it's still so raw. But someday, I think I'd like to try it again. I love children. There's an overabundance of orphans in Thedas.”

“I could tell you're good with them, too. Me, I don't know.”

“You give yourself too little credit, vhenan. I remember how you were in that dream with the kids. You were calm, patient, and understanding. You even played with Imalien a little. And when the spirits showed up and Elendil insulted you, you didn't react negatively.”

“For that, mostly I was surprised that a spirit called me stupid at all. That was a first. But... you may be right, amatus, but I don't know. I need to think on it more.”

“Of course. Take your time with it. It's a big decision.” Halamar started kissing Dorian's face, planting little kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. Dorian, smiling, pressed his lips to his lover's, pulling his body closer to his. He held him close as he deepened the kiss, running his fingers through his hair. His other hand trailed lower along his back, pressing him closer to himself as he playfully grasped an ass cheek. When Halamar hooked that leg around his hip, Dorian rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him, slithering between his legs.

Dorian began kissing his neck, and the sounds of his lover's gasping filled him with delight. He nibbled lightly at the skin, trailing his lips and teeth up towards his ear. He kissed the sensitive skin below his ear before whispering, “Shall we, amatus?”

Cheekily, Halamar replied, “Shall we what?”

Dorian chuckled, “Brat.” He kissed his lips once and said, “I want you. I love you.”

Halamar laughed and replied, “I want you, too, vhenan. Come here.” The lovers smiled at each other before Halamar grabbed Dorian's face and kissed him deeply, hooking his legs around his hips. He moaned lowly when he tasted Dorian's tongue, twirling with his.

It was so, so good to be home.

The final day's judgments were droll events filled with more of the same excuses everyone else had. Following orders. Red lyrium. We weren't well. The duchess or the duke's son convinced us to do it. I was only in it for coin. All of them died by Halamar's sword.

Out of the sixty-five total prisoners, a total of sixty were sentenced to death over the week.

Halamar couldn't believe he was ever uncertain that justice would make him feel better.

Truly, this all felt so undeniably right. His heart no longer hung as heavily against his rib cage. No longer did he want to burst into tears at any mention of his clan or what they went through. He was stronger now. Harsher. Resolute. But still holding onto aspects of his softness, determined to keep that part of himself alive.

The final stretch of executions were upon him. His arms had grown used to the physical strain by this point. He let each of them speak any final words, but most remained silent. The only one who spoke was a guardsman who cursed Halamar's name.

After his sword fell upon the last neck, he looked over the crowd. There were people drinking, some celebratory, some others in dread. Halamar also noticed the members of Clan Mahariel watching on in pride, including some of their own adolescent kids. Master Ilen seemed to be in charge of the teenagers. There were fewer of them about, so presumably the younger children were elsewhere. Halamar was relieved the younger kids weren't seeing this part. Dorian was watching him proudly near the front, as were Cassandra, Cullen, and Iron Bull.

Halamar began to address them all. “People from across Thedas have come to witness the Inquisition's actions this week. It is done. At last, we have reached the final execution. This gruesome business is now concluded. Being an executioner has brought me no joy, but it had to be done. I've no desire to be a frightening figure to Thedas. The Inquisition will now return to our regular activities of closing Fade rifts and stopping human wars.

“Afraid as some of you may be, the truth is, any human leader would do the same as I if their people were raped, brutalized, and slaughtered like mine were. Justice has been done here and now, and should the events that led up to this be repeated elsewhere, the Inquisition will take swift action once again. The purges, murders, and violence against elves across Thedas have to end, and I am compelled to act in their defense.

“Consider this not a threat, but a warning. Never again. No more. Genocide can no longer be a Thedosian value. There are some times when there is no middle ground. The slaughter of an entire clan of elves is one of those times.

“My clan were peaceful. Diplomatic. Kindhearted. A third of them were children. We only ever attacked in defense. Humans would attack us several times a year for the supposed crime of having pointed ears, and still, we only defended ourselves. I realize now that was a mistake. Sometimes, a life for a life is correct and proper justice. Sometimes, you must preempt the injustices of the world with action in order to prevent tragedy.

“Let it be known, the Inquisition stands for all of Thedas, which includes all the downtrodden, every toiling elf, every oppressed mage, every enslaved person, and every victim of senseless violence. When the mages and when the alienages rebelled, when the enslaved rebel, the Inquisition stands strong with them all.”

Part of the audience applauded his words as he descended the platform steps. Clan Mahariel looked impressed, content. Some humans looked on in terror while others cheered. Most of the human cheering came from the mages. Halamar smiled proudly. His job was done. He approached Dorian and his friends, and with a grin said mostly to his lover, “Let's see the Magisterium's reaction to that .”

“Amatus, they will just about implode,” said Dorian with a satisfied grin.

Halamar asked everyone for a bit of time alone on the battlements. He'd needed to socialize with the people in the audience as he was going numb, and now he finally had a break. He stared out at the snowy Frostback Mountains, dissociated from his body, for a long time. Without thinking, without feeling, he leaned forward unconsciously. Then, panic. He started to fall. Vertigo kicked in, forcing him to right himself before falling to his doom. His instincts kicked in, and he used a bit of raw magic to force himself upright again. Mentally, he prayed a short thank-you to the Creators for watching out for him. Before he could fall again, he walked along the battlements towards Skyhold's main castle, which took him first through Cullen's office. Cullen was seated at his desk and looked up when he entered.

“Inquisitor,” he greeted him politely, “Is there something you need?”

Halamar paused a moment before saying, “Perhaps. I recall—you said we could talk when our duties allow. Do you have time now?”

“I do, Inquisitor, yes. How are you holding up?”

“Not amazing, to tell you the truth.”

“I'd be surprised if you were.”

He paused before saying, “I blame myself for everything, Cullen. For every life lost. For every one of the rapes. For not listening to your advice. If I'd listened to you, my clan might still be alive, and there never would have been cause for sixty executions at Skyhold.”

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“When the thoughts won't leave you alone... try not to fall too deeply into any substance for comfort. It doesn't work. You end up needing more. If I may, Inquisitor, I'm not the only one who's noticed your uptick in drinking with Messere Pavus. Respectfully: stay on top of that, please. I'm asking you as a friend, don't drown yourself in drink or lyrium.”

“Cullen...”

“Inquisitor, you showed me that it's possible. I haven't taken any lyrium for over a year now, and I couldn't have done that without your faith in me. So, thank you, and I hope the thoughts leave you soon.”

“What do you do when they plague your mind?”

“I work, mostly. Occasionally I get to play some chess. The work of the Inquisition is encompassing enough to keep me correct.”

“What about your sleep? Does your mind ever plague you when you're trying to sleep?”

“Most nights. I often work late until the point of exhaustion.”

“But you're up so early in the morning! Do you get enough sleep, Cullen?”

With a small laugh at himself, Cullen replied, “Sometimes, Inquisitor, yes. Pushing through a day of exhaustion can help me get to bed sooner the next night.”

“Wow. Be careful your heart doesn't stop, Commander.”

“Oh, my heart is in great condition.”

“ But still, yes, work sounds like a good idea. I'll try to find even more of it.”

Cullen laughed. “Maybe what you need instead is a hobby. Maker knows when we have the time, though.”

“Gardening is nice when I get the time. Can you imagine me knitting?”

“Honestly? A little bit, Inquisitor. I think Leliana may know how.”

Halamar chuckled and said, “I'll have to ask her, then.”

Cullen said politely, “I should return to my duties, Inquisitor, but we should play another game of chess sometime soon.”

“I wouldn't miss it, Cullen.”

Halamar wanted to skip the pub tonight. He didn't feel up to celebrating with the other elves. His clan was on his mind again. He got to his quarters and locked the door behind him before walking out to the balcony. Only then did he allow his tears to flow again, for the first time in several days.

He missed his people terribly tonight. Now that there was no one left to execute for their murders, he felt empty. The tears flowed down his cheeks for the Keeper, for Auretharia and the other children, for Ghilenna. For the first boy he kissed, Caelis, who had switched from another clan at one point. For Arundel and his apprentices who would never again learn from him. For everybody, and all the ways they suffered.

The gravity of his speech brought all the repressed thoughts of the lost back to the surface, and they'd been bubbling up within him in the hours since. Hours he had to spend being a person mostly with strangers in the main hall, pretending to be stable, pretending to feel normal. Maybe it was seeing sixty beheaded corpses over the week that brought it all back, but he couldn't stop the grief this night. He leaned on the railing, letting his tears fall onto the roof thatching below the balcony as he quietly wept.

There came a soft knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Halamar asked, trying and failing to mask the raw emotions in his voice.

“It's me, amatus. Can I come in?”

“Hang on,” he replied, finding comfort in Dorian's velvety voice. He wiped his face with a handkerchief which he left on his desk before walking across the room and unlocking the door for his lover. He was guarding himself with his arms without realizing, holding them close to his chest as he opened the door. Dorian noticed, stroking his cheek softly.

“You seemed upset before. And now. What's wrong?”

“I just miss them all. And I have too many thoughts, and not enough work to do here...”

“Oh, amatus, come here. I can think of a number of solutions to that.”

“Just get in here and hold me.”

“Of course. Whatever you need,” said Dorian graciously. As he entered, Halamar locked the door behind him before burying his face in Dorian, who enveloped him in his arms. Dorian stroked and kissed his hair while his other arm held him around his waist. “I'm here, amatus,” he whispered in his ear.

“Thank you, vhenan...”

“Any time. I love you.”

“And I you. Come with me to the balcony. That's where I was before.”

“Alright,” said Dorian, kissing his forehead.

The pair walked hand in hand to the balcony, where they looked up at the large waning gibbous, a bright silver disc filling the starry sky. Halamar beheld the moon and said, “It's been just over two months, Dorian. They've been dead for two months. It seems like so long ago now. Like a whole year has happened that time.”

Dorian intertwined their fingers with one hand while the other slowly wrapped around the small of his back. “What do you need?” he asked.

“I think I need to cry, vhenan. It all feels so heavy tonight.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“No.”

“Well, how about whenever you're ready, I'll get us some food up here?”

Halamar nodded as tears flowed from his eyes and he buried his face in his lover's shoulder. His body and voice heaved with sobs. His fingers curled into his lover's clothing and squeezed his hand, clinging to something real. He at last said, “Dinner up here sounds... nice.”

Dorian kissed his forehead again and said, “Just let me know when, amatus.” Halamar pulled Dorian closer and wept weakly into his shirt.

“My whole clan...”

Dorian had no words. He simply held him closer, tighter against his torso. Halamar found comfort in Dorian's heartbeat.

“Doling out all those judgments... it felt better for a little while, and now it's worse again,” Halamar said.

Dorian held him close, held his hand close to his heart. Halamar was weeping into his shirt. Dorian said comfortingly, “That will happen, amatus. I'm here to listen. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but you look like you might just burst if you don't just let it out.”

“ You read me like a book, vhenan. Truth be told, I've barely been holding it together since after the speech I gave. Talking to you, I was fine, and then... all those strangers calling me a hero made me want to cry. Instead, I just went numb until a moment ago. I wouldn't be their hero if my clan weren't destroyed in the first place. None of this would have... should have happened. And I have to blame myself. It's all my fault, and somehow I'm their hero! It's all backwards!”

“ Darling, you are a hero, and I hate to see you like this. You've done everything right, amatus.”

“Your repeating that doesn't make it true.”

“Hush, love,” said Dorian, stroking his lover's back, trailing up to support his neck. “You're being cruel to yourself.”

“Ugh. I know. It's what I deserve.”

“Amatus...” Dorian released his hand so he could cup his face between his hands, gently, pressing their foreheads intimately together. Halamar rested his freed hand over his lover's heartbeat as Dorian wiped away his tears. He pecked his cheek and said, “Amatus, I'm rather speechless. I dislike being speechless,” he added. “I offer you my supportive presence. I'll be here for you all night.”

“Vhenan, you're my rock,” said Halamar, clinging to his lover's shirt from the front and back as he cried onto his shoulder. Dorian stroked his hair with one hand and traced circles onto his back with the other.

“Halamar, you mustn't torment yourself. Just because your clan suffered doesn't mean you have to put yourself through their pain vicariously.”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“I'd say it was fairly obvious when you asked me to choke you in the woods, amatus.”

Halamar's eyes widened, his lips silent. Dorian kissed the bridge of his nose.

“I also noticed the wounds on one of the girls. Only one of them that I saw was strangled to death.”

Halamar looked into Dorian's empathetic eyes and said weakly through tears, “That was Auretharia...”

“Maker, the poor girl...”

“Saul strangled her to death. I want to bring him back from the dead just to keep killing him over and over again.”

“That kind of anger, I understand it. I haven't experienced it, but I understand. The angriest I've ever been at a person was when I discovered my father's planned blood ritual for me. Only a small part of me thought about killing him, but I could never. It was better just to leave.”

Halamar was silent.

“Your anger is justified, amatus. Besides, I'm sure there must be some ancient Tevinter ritual to torture a dead person's soul if you really wanted to seek it out.”

“No. That would be ridic—oh, you're joking again. Funny.”

“I tried,” Dorian said with a crooked grin, kissing his cheek under the canopy of stars. Halamar felt Dorian's heart fluttering. Was that nerves? He kissed Dorian's soft lips, pressing his hand flat against his lover's breast muscle, feeling over his shirt. His lips lingered against his, lightly clicking together, as Dorian's hands roamed over his clothing. The hand Halamar rested on Dorian's chest too roamed about, slipping his fingers between his shirt buttons to feel his skin beneath. Dorian pulled him close as one of his hands wandered beneath the hem of his lover's shirt by the small of his back, while his other hand reached up to support his neck.

When their lips parted, Halamar looked up at Dorian. The moon reflected in his beautiful brown eyes; Dorian was likewise admiring his eyes and vallaslin, shining accents of green in the pale, bright moonlight. Dorian stroked his cheek and kissed his forehead before pulling him in close, letting him bury his face in his shoulder and neck. Dorian asked him, “What do you want to do tonight, amatus?”

“I don't know. We'll see where the night takes us. Just stay with me, Dorian.”

He kissed his temple and replied, “Of course, Halamar. I'm here. I'm right here.”

That was all Halamar needed. His lover's arms around him, his hands exploring him, his lips caressing his face. Skyhold was a good place to settle in, but he was still nomadic at heart. His home now was Dorian.