#I know it's a bit of a quite update but I thought Kes deserved a bit of a break to recover before the next round of torture...

[kestrellavellan]

Time Past - Chapter 51

Rating: Explicit

I posted this on Wednesday for Dragon Age Day.  I hope you all enjoy!

Weekly updates going forward until the story is finished.  Find this fic in its entirety on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423880/chapters/51691594

He woke some time later, the shadows long on the far wall.  One glance to the window told Kestrel it was close to sunset.

Dalish remained snuggled close, soft, deep breaths signaling his sleep.

Sweat and smoke mingled together to create a not altogether pleasant smell from Dalish’s head, but Kestrel didn’t care.  He imagined he didn’t smell pleasant either. Their journey had been difficult and long, but they’d survived so far. Still, he should track down a bath in their near future.

Dorian loved his scented baths, the surface of the water shimmering with the iridescents of the musky oils.  The enticing, exotic scents always clung to his skin afterwards, making him more seductive than usual to Kestrel.  The desire to run his nose along his skin, kissing and nipping along the way, became too strong to resist. So many of their nights of love making had begun with Dorian’s bath.

Kestrel smiled with the memory until he remembered he’d never share such intimacy with Dorian again.

A light rapping on the door immediately raised his alarm, and he reached for his blade tucked under the pillow.

Dalish stirred within the cocoon of his arms.  “Mm...Kestrel? Is everything-?

Kestrel shook his head, silencing him.

Another knock, this time louder, echoed through the small room.

Kestrel climbed over Dalish and silently padded to the door.  Dagger ready, he asked, “Who’s there?”

“It’s Vin, mon ami.”

Kestrel waited for him to continue.

“So cautious.  I understand. I wanted to let you know there’s a hot bath downstairs with your name on it.  For both of you. And supper is just about ready. There’s a crowd in the tavern, so I can bring the food up, if you prefer.  But they’re a friendly bunch. There are no strangers tonight, just locals.”

Kestrel rested his head against the door with a soft groan, all other words ignored after “hot bath.”  Feelings of longing and depression washed over him.

“Are you alright?” Alvinius asked.

Kestrel realized he’d stopped talking too long ago.  “Sorry. It’s just, it’s been so long since I’ve had a hot bath.”

His words were met with an appreciative chuckle.  “Oh, how I understand that. I used to make my coin by hunting before I opened this tavern.  Weeks I’d spend in the woods with only a cold stream to rinse off in. I’ve grown quite fond of a hot bath myself.”

“Wait...you...this is your tavern?”

A healthy, vibrant laugh sounded through the door.  Nothing like Harrier’s cruel laughter. “Why don’t you join me for dinner, and then you can ask me all the questions you want?  I’m an open book. Promise.”

Dalish pushed past him, opening the door.  “Come on, Kestrel! I’m hungry!” he said, already hurrying down the hallway.

Kestrel tried to snag him but was too slow, leaving him alone with Alvinius grinning at him like he was the most amusing person he’d ever met.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll watch over the boy if you want to take a bit longer in the bath than he clearly wants to.”

Still skeptical of his intentions, Kestrel frowned.

Alvinius’ smile eased, gaze softening.  “Or...I can bring you your dinner in the bath, so he can eat near you.”

“Thank you,” Kestrel said, offering Alvinius an appreciative smile that was quickly returned.

***

Dalish squirmed in his grasp, eager to get the bath over with as Kestrel helped rinse the grime out of his hair.

“Mythal enaste,” he muttered under his breath.  “Dalish, I swear if you do not stay still long enough for me to get this dirt out of your hair…”

“But I want to get in the bath!”

“We’re both filthy and need to rinse off before climbing in the tub.  You know this, so stop being stubborn.”

Dalish crossed his arms over his chest, pouting.  At least it kept him still long enough to remove most of the dirt from his hair and clean off his back.

“Okay, okay.  You can get in,” Kestrel said, smiling to himself when the boy scrambled towards the tub and all but leapt in.  It was nice to see him acting like a boy of his age, instead of like the adult he pretended to be.

Kestrel quickly cleaned himself off, the task going much faster without managing a struggling kid.  He climbed in next to Dalish who was already busy soaping himself up.

A soft knock announced a visitor at the entrance of the small washroom.  “It’s me,” said Alvinius. “Is it okay if I enter? I have your food.”

“Yes.  Please,” Kestrel answered.

As Vin walked through the door with a tray full of food, Dalish’s eyes widened with delight before snapping shut, head plunged under water to rinse the soap out of his hair, splashing Kestrel.  He emerged looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry…may I…?”

“Go on,” Kestrel said with a lazy wave.  There was no use getting in the way of Dalish and his food.

Dalish sprang from the tub, threw a towel around his waist, and nearly plowed Alvinius over as he was setting the tray down on a side table.  He didn’t even sit down before he started shoveling food into his face.

Alvinius laughed.  “I remember that age where you’re growing.  You always feel hungry. There’s plenty more, mon cher .  Eat until you’re content.”

“Thank you,” Dalish managed around a stuffed mouth.

As Kestrel watched Alivinius watch Dalish, he noticed his happy smile sour.  Where those tears in his eyes?

Alivinius blinked and quickly wiped at his face, glancing at Kestrel.  “I’ll be back soon. I have some clothes for you to try on,” he said, embarrassment forcing the words out in a rush, before he hurried from the room.

“We’re not going to have to leave here for at least a few more days, right?” Dalish asked, looking at him over a half-eaten loaf of bread.

Kestrel glanced down the hallway, after their departing host.  “I hope not. But I need you ready to go at a moment’s notice, okay?  Eat what you can, da’len .”

Dalish nodded in agreement, returning to the food.

True to his word, Alvinius returned a little while later with an armful of clothes.  He knocked again to announce his presence and waiting for Kestrel to allow him entry.  As he waded into the room, he nearly tripped over Dalish who had created a make-shift bed out of towels and was passed out.  A hearty snore rose from the mass of towels and Alvinius delicately hopped over Dalish. He managed to avoid kicking the boy, and landed within a few feet of the tub.

Kestrel watched him, warm water soothing away the worries of their escape and reminding him of his former, more amiable ways.  “Thank you for your hospitality. It is...unexpected but appreciated.”

Alvinius placed the clothes on the bench, organizing them into two stacks with a big smile on his face.  “You’re welcome, mon ami .  Now, I have some extra clothes that I thought you and the boy could use.  They're nothing fancy, but it didn’t look like you brought much with you.”

Kestrel leaned on the edge of the wooden tub, chin resting on his arm as he continued to watch Alvinius.  A puzzled frown met Alvinius when he glanced back at Kestrel. “Why are you being so kind? You owe us nothing.”

Alvinius froze in his organizing of the clothes, back to Kestrel.  “I suppose that’s a fair question. You have no reason to trust me.”  Pushing the clothes over, he turned around and sat with a heavy sigh, a sad expression on his face.

Kestrel felt the silence was necessary while Alvinius collected his thoughts, so he waited.  The dripping of the water pump on the stone floor filled the room.

“You remind me of myself,” Alvinius finally said, words soft and heavy.  He reached for his sleeve, loosening the tie before rolling it up to his elbow.  Along his forearm was etched a familiar, yet faded marking.

Even though Kestrel didn’t know which House the horseshoe symbol belonged to, he recognized it clearly as a slave brand.  His eyes widened, but before he could speak, Alvinius continued.

“I have a similar tale to yours, although not so successful, I’m afraid.”  His eyes searched Kestrel’s, some internal debate raging on that Kestrel was not privy to.  With another soft sigh, he shut his eyes and started speaking. “My daughter and I managed to escape the family.  A pair of slave hunters followed us south as we ran. They almost caught us a few times. We made it outside of town when they finally reached us, except there was only one left.  I don’t know what happened to his friend, nor do I care. Anyway, he managed to catch us by surprise. He clubbed me over the head and grabbed my daughter. I guess he realized he wouldn’t make it back to Tevinter with both of us.  He left me for dead, but I managed to crawl to this town where the nice barkeep took me in, gave me a job, and left this place to me when she died.”

Kestrel had so many questions, but all he managed to say was, “What a horrible story.  Do you know what happened to your daughter?”

Alvinius opened his eyes finally, finding them full of unshed tears.  “No. I can only hope they didn’t punish her for my crimes,” he whispered.

His heart broke for the man.  To lose his daughter while gaining his own freedom must have been a complicated mess of emotions.

“Please, no pity.  I see it all over you face,” he continued as soon as Kestrel started to protest.  “That was nearly ten years ago. My girl, if she still lives, is no longer a girl.  I gave up hope of finding her long ago.” Forcing a smile, Alvinius slapped his thighs and rose to his feet.  He gathered up Dalish and Kestrel’s discarded rags. “I'll ...dispose of these. Try on the clothes if you like.  If they’re too big, I can have the tailor swing by for some quick adjustments. I’ll see you in the morning.” He didn’t rush out, but he quickly lowered his sleeve back into place before he left the room, the slumped set of his shoulders reflecting he wasn’t quite over the emotions his story had dredged up.

Still, it could be some sob story to draw him in, get him to lower his defenses, just in time to call the slave hunters on them.  They did pay heavily for those that turned in runaways.

“We can trust him, Kestrel.  I believe him, and his story,” Dalish said through a yawn.

Kestrel startled from his thoughts and jerked towards Dalish, not realizing he was awake.

Dalish rubbed an eye, muttering, “Are you getting out of the bath soon?  I’m sleepy.”

“Yes, of course.  Give me just a moment, okay?”

Nodding his head, Dalish started to drift off again.

Kestrel smiled at the sight as he climbed out of the tub.  He felt more at ease and more himself than he had in the past several months, even without Dorian by his side.  Especially without Dorian by his side. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist before slipping on an oversized tunic left by Alivinius.  The fabric was inexpensive but soft and well cared for. These were more than just old hand-me-downs.

Leaving the ties loose, he walked over to Dalish and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair.  “Dalish, time for bed.”

“Mm…?” he responded, eyes struggling to open.

Kestrel knelt before him and the boy quickly wrapped his arms around his neck.  “Dalish, Dalish - you’re too big to carry.”

Dalish groaned and let go, stumbling to his feet.

Kestrel managed to maneuver him out the bath room and up the stairs to his room before he crashed again.  He wasn’t far behind, falling into a deep sleep next to the boy.

***

Another nightmare jolted Kestrel awake.  Although it quickly faded from his memory, the vision of a dragon tearing into his gut lingered in his mind, even as he carefully pulled loose from a slumbering Dalish.  He threw on a tunic over his leggings and paced around the room. The walls began to close in around him, but he fought back the feeling of claustrophobia knowing he shouldn’t leave Dalish alone.  Still, his eyes were drawn to the door more often than not on each pass.

With one last glance at Dalish, Kestrel pulled open the door and left the room, swearing he’d only be heading downstairs where he’d be able to keep an eye on the stairway, the only way to get upstairs.  He quietly padded down the hallway and down the stairs into the tavern area.

Vin was busy reorganizing some rare bottles of liquor behind the bar.  He was so focused on his task, he didn’t even notice Kestrel.

It gave Kestrel a chance to study him.  Alvinius’ fiery red hair was loose, cascading down his back in a mess of waves.  As Kestrel watched, he gathered it loosely in his hand, sweeping it off his neck and around the front of his shoulder.  The stretch of exposed skin was pale, much paler than his own. Muscles shifted as he craned his neck to the side, assessing the new organization.  Alvinius was really quite beautiful.

Immediately, Kestrel clamped down on that thought process.  He’d just left Dorian a few weeks back and here he was drooling over the next attractive male he saw.  Angry with himself, Kestrel yanked the barstool out, startling poor Alvinius with the sudden noise.

Alvinius fumbled with the bottle in hand until it slipped from his grasp and plummeted to the floor.  He hit the stone underfoot with a loud crash, shattering and spilling its ruddy contents.

Kestrel froze, feeling extremely guilty for what just occurred.

“You nearly scared the soul right out of my body!” Alvinius said as he spun around.

Kestrel expected to find him angry or upset when their gazes connected, but Alvinius’ face lit up upon seeing him.

“I’m sorry,” Kestrel said, embarrassed still, despite Alvinius’ lack of a negative response.

“Don’t be.  It was an old bottle of brandy, but hardly used.  No one around here drinks that stuff.”  

Alvinus bent down to start picking up the broken glass and Kestrel rushed to his side.  “At least let me help clean up the mess,” he offered, already reaching for a large shard.  The pervasive smell of brandy invaded his senses, filling his nose and leaving a familiar tang on his tongue without even having a drop.  How many times had he kissed Dorian to taste brandy?

“Kestrel…?”

Kestrel blinked hard.  Hearing his name pulled him back to the present.  All he could do was apologize again.

“Come, let’s leave this mess for later.  I have a new cask of spiced wine with our name on it,” Alvinius said with cheer, rising to his feet and offering a hand to Kestrel.

The puddle of brandy and the broken remains of its bottle were too on the mark.  Pulling his eyes away from the mess, he took Alvinius’ hand, finding it warm and rough with calluses, much like his own.  

The elf’s smile widened, fingers squeezing ever-so-lightly before letting go.  Alvinius grabbed a tinted glass bottle from the bar, snagged two wooden goblets to his other hand, and led them over to a table near the stairs.  Giving them both a generous pour, he said, “I’m going to tell you about myself in hopes that it bores you enough to go back to sleep. When you’re ready for me to stop, just hold up your hand.  Until then, I’ll keep talking, and if your glass goes empty, I’ll keep refilling, deal?”

Kestrel wasn’t sure what there was to agree to.  Typically a deal required an ask from both parties, but Alivinius made it clear he had no expectations of him.  He nodded his head, hesitant of a catch, but the elf launched into his tale, starting from as young as he could recall.

Alvinius’ voice was deep and surprisingly soothing.  About two cups later, as Alvinius described the pony his father gave him on his eighth name day, Kestrel’s eyes started to slip shut.  Rather than be rude, Kestrel held up a hand, and just like that, Alvinius stopped talking.

“I’m sorry,” Kestrel said through a yawn.

“It’s quite alright, mon ami .  I don’t sleep as much as I should, so the company was more than welcome.  If you ever need someone to drone on until you fall asleep, I’m your person.  Feel free to come down any night you’re having trouble sleeping.”

***

Kestrel took Alvinius up on his offer nearly every night after that when the nightmares became too much to sleep through.  They discussed all sorts of topics, but never Dorian. Kestrel knew Alvinius was aware of a gap in his past, but he never pressured him to speak about it.

The three of them fell into a comfortable pattern around the tavern, cleaning, cooking, and once word got out a healer was in town, caring for the wounded and sick.  Kestrel kept firm terms that those who needed healing were to come to the tavern, but into the third week, even that rule was loosened.  

News had reached them that there was an old woman who’d fallen and shattered her hip in a neighboring village.  Unable to move, she had no way to come to them. Dalish begged and pleaded while Alvinius remained, for once, quiet, as Kestrel thought about it.  There’d been no threats, no harassment in the town of Nessum, perhaps venturing out a bit further wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Dalish’s puppy-like expression was hard to refuse.

After going over the rules for their excursion, Dalish sprinted downstairs, eager to eat and be off.  Kestrel took a slower approach, making sure he was presentable to the town. He’d been forced naked for so long, it felt good to be able to dress himself even in a simple shirt with pants.  Still, one hand proved annoying when trying to roll-up and pin the flimsy material of his shirt around his missing arm.

“Almost ready?” Alvinius asked from the doorway.

Kestrel greeted him with a warm smile, having grown quite close after all their late-night talks and working days spent in close proximity.  The sleeve unspooled in his hand, and Kestrel was forced to redirect his attention back to it.

Alvinius entered the room.  “Let me help,” he said, stepping closer.

“I can do it,” Kestrel insisted, brow furrowed in concentration.

“I didn’t ask if you could or couldn’t, Inquisitor .  Only that you should let me help.”

“I didn’t tell you of my past so you could tease me with an old title,” he retorted with a playful grin.

“Actually, I have a confession to make. Dalish told me who you were a week before you spilled the beans.”  He grabbed the flailing sleeve and started to reroll it, Kestrel too surprised to protest.

“Dalish…” Kestrel groaned.

“ He’s quite proud of you, you know.  And already has the bar regaled with stories of ‘his friend,’ but I was close to figuring it out myself.  There’s only so many one-armed, attractive Dalish elves with the kind of presence you have, mon beau oiseau .”  Alvinius reached for the pin on the bed.  “Now, mind if I finish what I’ve already started?”  

Kestrel blushed and nodded his head.  There was no point in complaining now, the job was almost done.

“Such a stubborn man,” Alvinius said fondly.  “Glad I could convince you to see reason.” He pinned the sleeve in place.  “There we are.”

“Thank you.  Truly. It’s been a rough journey, but you’ve been so warm and welcoming.  I’ve forgotten what it’s like not to have to treat everyone with suspicion and have my blade always handy.”

Alvinius’ fingers gently grasped Kestrel’s arm, thumb brushing over clothed skin.  “Of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, mon beau oiseau .”  He offered a light peck to Kestrel’s cheek before stepping back.  “I’ll see you downstairs.”

Kestrel's heart stuttered with the small expression of affection.  Alvinius was quite fond of them, and each gentle touch calmed Kestrel's paranoid, damaged mind.  Every time a caress wasn't followed with a blow or an insult, Kestrel relaxed just a bit more in his presence.  Alvinius' tenderness was slowly healing Kestrel's mental wounds.  As proof, his nightmares had lessened over the last three weeks.  He'd only had one in the last several days.  So long as the topic of Dorian didn't arise, Kestrel felt more at peace than he had in a long time.  Alvinius was to thank.

And that new name from Alvinius?  It  sounded more intimate that his usual “ mon ami ”.   Mon beau oiseau ?   He’d have to find out what it meant.

[weasterned]

Luna Park.

1. Lunlun unnie ! She’s so kind, approach-able, humblee ! ! And and also lobely ! ♡ 2. I rarely see her these days or is it just me— and uh what else— updating, perhaps ? ;       ; 3. Lunlun Unnie ! So sorry that we rarely talk these days, that’s my fault— I’ll try to approach you okidokii ? ♡ I’ll be your santa thumb ! ㅋㅋㅋ

1. baik, baik, baik, baik, baik 2. I was starting to worry about you. You’re online so rarely. Please, tweet a little bit more often;) 3. i love you 🙆

1. Kind, Humoris, Laterep, bisa nerima aq apa adanya. Bias: ㅡlahanjay kenapa jadi krit WGL. 2. Noona keseringan MIA ya sama kaya aku? Jangan jangan kita jodoh? Tebak coba ini syp? Kalo tau nanti noona dapet hadiah iphone 8 dari undian Indomie. WQWQWQ noona, lets jangan keseringan MIA biar kita bisa dekat dan dekat. 3. Sebentar lagi 2018, jadi kapab f(x) mahu kambek frinz, , , , ???? Omo omo jeongmal gidarilgeyo >:“D

I love me 😘❤💙💚💛💜

#1 - Quite - Kinda mysterious - Calm - Cool - Friendly #2 I wish Luna eonni can show up more because I wanted to talk and get closer more to her! #3 Hello Luna eonni! I don’t know if we never talk before or we just rarely meet each other. But I would like to approach you and be closer to you! I don’t know if I ever greets you or not, but I think I have. But I’m not sure. I’m sorry if I never. I hope we can start to be more closer~!❤

judes, nice, rarely here, quiet, cool

1. kind, warm, attractive, pwetty, cutie! 2. Talk with me more often! And update your chara’s activity more often too! Me would like to see them mhihi. 3. Hello, sunbaenim! I’m your fan. So pretty please, talk with me. `sobs. Please enjoy this year’s xmas and new year!

1. i only know this one : receh 2. the first person who said im handsome hAHAHAHA, IM SO HAPPY- but hng i wish we could be more closer :C 3. Dear luna eonnie, luna means moon then are you my moon? eak eak tratakdungcess

1. Lunaemon eonni. She is sooo kind. Funny. Care. Gorgeous. Her voice is soo beautiful. 2. You have nothing to improve eonni. But lets talk more! You seem very busy. 3. Do you want to accompany to celebrate new year?

1. Friendly, kind, a bit quiet (doesnt talk much but doing lots of updates), good, mysterious(?) 2. Eventhough we’re rarely talk, i could see that you’re sometimes rarely talk and do lots updates, lets talk more with people (especially meㅋㅋ) 3. Hello, Luna-ya! How was your 2017 so far? A good year? Or.. Of course i hope 2017 is a good year for you.. Have you did all things on your bucket list this year? If no, dont worry there is 2018 in front of our eyes. Stay warm on the winter luna-ya!lol this luna i thought she’s cold person because she mentioned me to not to over towards others in the first meet. but someone told me, u’re soft inside lol let’s get along well luna ssi

She’s nice, mungkin jarang ngobrol jadi i can’t talk about her much

1. i dunno much about her personality, but as long as i know she is a nice person. 2. resembled as Luna as well, so no need to change too much haha. just be the way you are, 93mate! 3. Let’s make another convo in the future, since i haven’t see you in timeline again.

1. kind, cheerful, friendly, cute(?), cool! 2. I really hope i can see you more often, because i’m your fan! and i would like to get your sign when we meet again soon /no 3. hello luna!! i’m very happy to be able to meet you and i really want to be close with you since you are one of my favorite idol hahaha. Please always be who you are right now! I hope you will have a nice day and keep healthy till 2017 comes to an end! don’t forget to be happy and always smile! fighting!

Such a nice person!!! At first we kinda didnt talk a lot but lately we did and i just found out you are so fun to talk with

1. sweet, nice, kind, cool, adorable 2. please talk more with me in the future! 3. hello, luna noona. its nice to meet you. i’ve never meet luna rper again, and i found you (?) lol are you just taking rest? please have a good life while taking rest! will see you again soon, right?

1. Gorgeous, attractive, kind, sweet, caring. 2. Please mingle with me, bubz. 3. Hello, Luna! Please enjoy the rest of 2017 happily.

1. i dont know since i dont meet her yet 2. hope we can talk more 3. Marry christmas and happy new year, ah lets get more closer next year so we can have fun year together.

1. Sweet, kind, nice, gentle, friendly 2. i dont think you appear that much? Lets online more and talk wimme nuna haha 3. Dear luna nuna, nuna youre radiating a warm vibes! Haha stay like that,  i like it ^^She is nice, kind, not that talkative but not quite either, she’s a fun person to talk to. To Luna unnie, Unnie, happy early new year! Hope 2018 will be a good year for everyone!

1. Kind, calm? 2. Unnie it’s been a while I didn’t see you around. Nothing need to change just let’s be more active! hello, Ambreu unnie since 2017 almost over which mean new year will bring a new hope also. Please stay healthy because the weather is not so good lately, keep warm. Xx Loves♡

1. My Baby Lulu💕 2. Lets share about anything in our dm group ㅎㅎㅎㅎ 3. Happy New Year baby😆

1. KIND, sweetheart, lovely, fun, SO LOVELY 2. Lately we don’t talk much, so I’m hoping for more convo with you unnie!:( I’ve missed you. 3. I hope everything will go well till the end of the year and you will have a great year in 2018. Lovely things would come to lovely people, I believe.

1. Luna is such a cutie yet so polite, has a warm personality, and such a sweet person. 2. Dont be to polite 😭 i want to be more closer to you since are such a nice person. 3. f(x) COMEBACK JUSEYO!!!! I hope to hear another solo songs from you hahahaha. And i hope we can get a lil bit closer.  Be happy always , dear. You deserved to be happy.

1. - kind - mature! - a bit cold - classy - always muncul hilang muncul hilang (?) 2. we haven’t talk much! but i remember that i thought you’re my unnie, i thought you’re 92 liner lmao. let’s talk more in the future, i rarely see you on my timeline lately :c 3. [��]  just wanna say, thank you for staying in WST. i’m happy that i have such a kind and caring members here. it might be pretty hard when you feel left out in agency, but i didn’t feel like this here. thank you ♡ thank you for being kind to me, let’s make another memorable memories in the future!

1) nice, kind, humble, friendly, potray her chara well 2) online more often? 3) luna my 93mate, where have you been? i hope you’re doing well. me miss you!  let’s talkeu talkeu with me again and i hope 2018 will be much much better year for you!

✨Kind,  polite,  cool,  cold(?), idk anymore.. Let’s talk more with me!  Hahahaaaku belom pernah mentionan hehehe, dan jarang nongol juga (atau aku yg jarang nongol?😂) semoga ke depannya kita bisa lebih deket lagi. Messagenya: Semoga apa yang terjadi di tahun 2017 bisa menjadi pembelajaran buat diri kita masing2 dan kedepannya kita bisa selalu mengucap syukur dan selalu dilingkupi rasa bahagia♡ Luna eonnni T    ^    T please comeback from your rest/? I need my winkeu tutor noooow … . I promise I’ll come to private with you … I won’t kabur again/? And also … Luna eonni is really nice person— good at winkeuuu ♡

1. Are. You. On. Hiatus. Period? 2. YOU’RE N HIATUS PERIOD, THAT’S WHY I RARELY SEE YOU ON TIMELINE. LOOKING FORWARD FOR OUR INTERACTIONS IN THE FUTURE. COME BACK SAFE (???) 3. Happy new year! Santa claus is coming to town~ *chuckles* You should take a good care of yourself, keep smiling widely, and be happy as always.

1. Cool, mysterious, pretty, cold?, talkative ; 2. Noona please reply my mention next time ; 3. I hope we can get a proper convo

1. always on MIA! sometimes appear sometimes not :p. friendly, kind and humble. 2. I know I aint a good one, but I just want to tell you that you’re one of the best luna’s rp. tbh we just met few months ago through weast, but since we’re under same group… I feel like that I know you for thousand years (ok I know it’s too much xD). please show up more! I know two of us are busy recently, but I think you will come back asap! 3. Hey Lun.. I know we just met few months ago. but like I said before that I feel like we know each other for about thousand years lol. it means I’m really like you! 2017 is coming to end and you know that we’ve been through during past 2 years with MeU and our group as well. I hope your upcoming solo will hit daebak later. also 2018 will coming.. as you know that everyone waiting our comeback. I hope 2018 is for us.. for f(x) and MeU. love you!!! and please lunaaaa stay healthy and dont change your chara! hahahaha. keep it and do more better in the future :).

-1. Cute, adorable, squishy, smart and good 2. Unnie should interact more with the members! 3. Unnie, my precious unnie, I’m looking forward to talk more with you later!

1. So kind 2. Memeable 3. Overall just cute 4. Pretty… 5. Caring! Luna noona I miss you a lot where are you really… I don’t see you often as Edward or as Mingyu so please comeback soon, I miss seeing you on my timeline. Qark noona, it’s 2018 soon so let’s be happy together shall we? Let’s bring up the good things first!

[kestrellavellan]

Time Past - Chapter 53

Rating: Explicit

Warning: NSFW, suicidal attempt

Weekly updates going forward until the story is finished.  Find this fic in its entirety on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423880/chapters/52082938

Despite the blindfold, Kestrel knew when he was back in Tevinter.  The heat rushed him in one aggressive burst of air, tosling his hair and distracting him enough to stumble over a stone.  His guide took his arm and continued to lead him through the darkness.  

Branches and leaves caressed his face and body, forced apart by their path.  As they continued walking, the din of crickets rose from a soft chirp in the distance to a crescendoing welcome.  His guide finally paused and removed his blindfold, gesturing forward into a field of waist-high grass, yellowing with the strain of a hot spring.

Still, Kestrel couldn’t help but glance at the young forest behind them.  An eluvian would be a useful tool for the Inquisition remnants, but chances were slim he’d find it.  Solas made sure of that.  Besides, his path was forward, towards Dorian.

A loud snort drew his attention to a pale mare chomping on the grass, rein lashed to a low branch on the outskirts.  When he looked to his guide for permission to use the horse, she’d disappeared without a sound.

****

It took a day of careful travel, dipping off the main road when the occasional traveler neared, hiding under his hood despite the late spring warmth, to reach the outskirts of the Pavus countryside manor.  The flow of people gave away its proximity first.  Carriages of finely dressed nobles formed a line down the road, filled in by those of lesser birth on horses with clothing just as rich.  Whispers of the Pavus heir finally settling down flitted through the traffic, encouraged by laughter and smiles.  It was a joyous occasion for all involved and an excuse for the top tier of Tevinter to gather and celebrate.

Kestrel pushed his horse in and out of the crowd.  Fortunately, most seemed too lost in their gossip to notice a plain garbed man on a horse, dismissing him as someone’s errand slave.  

Despite being surrounded, Kestrel felt alone.  He was the only one here that truly knew Dorian.  He was the only one here to see if this was truly what Dorian wanted for himself.  At least, he’d made it in time, in time to stop the ceremony is necessary.  

Weaving deeper through the crowd, Kestrel feared his noisy heart thudding in his chest would turn heads.  The desire to see Dorian again threatened to overwhelm him, to force him to shout from his horseback that this was wrong.  He knew in his heart that Dorian was marrying the wrong person.  He and Dorian deserved to be together, and now he had another chance -- No, that’s not why he was here.  Maybe Dorian had already forgotten him.  Maybe this marriage was a chance at a normal life for Dorian, one he never thought possible.

That thought summoned tears to Kestrel’s eyes.  It would kill him to see Dorian with someone else, but Dorian’s happiness was worth more than his life.

Blinking away the tears, Kestrel pushed his horse out of the line and off the road and urged it into a gallop, not caring what glares or glances it earned him.  He overshot the house, running past the backlog of people waiting for entry, and slipped to the woods behind the manor, the same woods he and Dalish had fled through the night of his faked death.

Kestrel slid from the horse’s back, offering her an absentminded pat, before he stealthed.  A single-mindedness overtook him, propelling him towards Dorian like a hound on a scent trail.  So desperate was he to see Dorian again, he nearly crashed into a guard on the edge of the forest.  Fortunately, the man was too busy drinking from a flask to notice the swaying bushes as Kestrel stumbled into the clearing.

In the open field, two large tents were set-up on one side of the field while chairs and an elaborate arbor stood near the pond, on the other side.  Guests were being seated or mingling around the raised platform, paying their respects to the proud mother.  He watched the people parade around, but didn’t spot the familiar swagger of the man he loved.  If Dorian had been with the other people, Kestrel would’ve noticed him.  That meant he had to be tucked away in one of the tents.  Or in the manor.  Hopefully, one of the tents.  He never wanted to enter that house of torture ever again.

He hurried over to the far side, praying no one noticed the movement of the grass in his rush.  Reaching the closest tent, he circled around, listening for whoever might be inside.  A pleased giggle rang through the air, followed by several agreeing laughs, none of which belonged to Dorian.  This must be the bride’s tent, the woman that was supposed to take his place beside Dorian.  Kestrel knew none of this was her fault, and yet, he couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that welled up within.  Even if Kestrel was able to stop Dorian from going through with the wedding, even if Dorian was stupid enough to accept him back into his life, even if Dorian still wanted to marry him after everything, they would never have it easy.  Never as easy as a man marrying a woman.

A bit more subdued by the thought of the odds lining up against him, he headed towards the other tent.  Within a few feet of the enclosed canopy, voices forced their way through the heavy fabric walls.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this, Dorian.  He’s gone, there’s no need to continue with this farce of a wedding.”

“You think I’ve forgotten that, Mae?  You think I’ve forgotten what it was like to hold his still-warm body in my arms?  You think --”  Dorian’s voice cracked and Maevaris was quick to soothe him.

“I’m sorry.  This just...it doesn’t make sense to me.  I think you’re punishing yourself for a problem you could never solve.  You won’t be happy married to her.”

“How do you know that?  Maybe finally being on my mother’s good side will change things between us.  And who knows?  Having a child, someone that loves you unconditionally, might make my life worthwhile again.  Atria is a lovely woman.  She’s intelligent, kind, which mind you, in Tevinter is a rare occurrence, and open-minded.  She understands my past and is willing to work through it with me.  She also has the added bonus of being approved by my mother, despite being a member of our Lucerni group.”

Dorian actually thought his life might be better with this woman?  

“She’s a powerful mage, sure, but she’s not…”

“A man?” Dorian retorted, words bitter.

“The Inquisitor.  She’s not Kestrel.”

“He’s dead, Mae!  There is no Kes anymore.  I’m just so tired of fighting everyone and for what?”

Kestrel could hear the raw agony in his last words, and it drew him closer, pulling him around the corner of the tent.  Dorian sounded like he’d given up.

“I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Maevaris finally said, voice soft with understanding.

“It’s too late for that.  This is...this is what I want, Mae.  It’s a chance at happiness.  Now, if you don’t mind, I need to be appropriately sloshed before this affair, and I’m not quite there yet.”

A chance at happiness?  Kestrel clutched his chest.  He’d forced Dorian here.  For all the blame he’d dumped on Atronis, he was the one who’d backed Dorian into this corner.  If this was what Dorian wanted, wasn’t it best to let him be?  Still, he couldn’t come all this way without catching a glimpse of him.  Fighting through his heartbreak, Kestrel crept closer, noticing one side of the enclosed canopy was lifted, allowing air to flow through the space.  The tent was too dark to see anything within.

“I’ll love you no matter what, okay?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Maevaris exited through the raised side, pausing once to glance back the tent with a pensive frown before making her way to the guests.

“Finally…” muttered Dorian.

Now was his chance.  One glimpse of Dorian, and he’d leave him to the life he desired.  Like he said, it was a real chance at happiness.

Slipping into the tent was simple, and Dorian was too preoccupied with the drink tray to notice any subtle shifting of the air.  A black cloak hid his form, high collar obscuring his face from Kestrel’s current angle.  His hair was pulled back into a simple tail, gold sparkling among the free length.

Dorian’s back was to him, hunched over a table with a glass decanter of some dark liquid.  Most likely his favored brandy.  Except he wasn’t focused on pouring anything, which was odd.

Kestrel snuck around to the side to find out what Dorian was doing.  He was momentarily distracted by the bare expanse of skin that greeted his inquisitive gaze.  The cloak squared off his shoulders in a hard line, edges meeting right below Dorian’s throat.  Underneath, he wore nothing save a pair of loose, black pants held up by a golden scarf.  The length of unclothed, muscular skin left Kestrel’s mouth dry and cheeks flushed.  So flustered was he, he tripped over his own feet.  He stumbled a few steps before catching himself,  thankful for the rugs underfoot to muffle what would’ve been a noisy stumble through grass.

Focus, Kestrel told himself.  I mean, who goes half-naked to their own wedding?  Kestrel’s thoughts strayed, aroused and irritated at Dorian’s blatant exposure.

Unaware of Kestrel’s struggles, Dorian opened a small, wooden box, retrieving a handful of dried mushrooms.  Using a knife within reach, he chopped them up into leathery scraps before gathering them anew in cupped hands and dumped them into an open kettle, still steaming.  His golden bangles chimed merrily throughout his movements.  Dorian placed the lid back on the kettle and settled into a plush reading chair at the table, toying with a tea cup while his tea seeped.

Except no one made tea from mushrooms.

Creeping closer still, Kestrel peered into the unattended box of leftover mushrooms on the table.  They were flat-capped and a dull and lifeless gray.  Kestrel recognized them as Blightcap mushrooms, extremely toxic if consumed.  One of the kids of Clan Lavellan  had found some in a nearby cave and thinking them one of the edible deep mushrooms had eaten his fill and died shortly after.  What was Dorian doing making a tea of them?  It’d kill whoever drank it.

Dorian poured a muddy brown mixture into his cup before holding it between both hands, staring into it as steam clouded his vision.

Kestrel’s stomach twisted in realization.  Oh no...he wouldn’t, would he?  But he’d said he wanted to try for a chance at happiness!  Unless that was a lie to get Maevaris to leave him alone for this very reason.

“I’m sorry I failed you,” Dorian whispered into the cup before bringing it to his lips.

Desperate to stop him, Kestrel leapt over the table, swatting the cup from Dorian’s hands before his momentum landed him on top of Dorian, sending the chair tipping backward and them both tumbling on to the ground.  Kestrel continued to roll a few feet out while Dorian still sat in the tipped chair.

“What…?  Who?” Dorian sputtered, quickly rising to his feet, hand ablaze with magic.  

Kestrel pulled himself onto his hand and knees, rear to Dorian, hood fallen over his head in the tumble.

“State your name or, so help me, I’ll set your ass on fire!”

“What in the Void were you thinking, Dorian?” Kestrel reprimanded.  Terribly pissed, he flopped onto the ground, rear first, so he could glare at the dumb man.

“...Kes?  No.  Impossible.  You’re dead.”

Kestrel shook his head, hood knocked back to his shoulders.  “I think the bigger issue here is you were trying to kill yourself!”

“Did I succeed…?” Dorian asked, touching his arms and then his face.  “Definitely didn’t imagine I’d be getting yelled at by my dead partner first thing after crossing the Veil.”

With an irritated huff, Kestrel said, “You’re not dead, but you would’ve been if I hadn’t knocked that poisonous tea from your hands!  Again, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Dorian frowned, muttering, “It was supposed to have a more immediate effect, but the vendor did warn of hallucinations.  Oh well, proof it’s only a matter of time, I suppose.”  He righted the oversized chair and settled into it.  As he leaned his head against the high backing, he said, “I thought it only fair, you know.  Why, afterall, I left you back at the Winter Palace.  It’s only fair you’d leave me.  I don’t blame you for,” he paused, grimacing as he searched for the right word, “leaving the way you did.  After all the tortures you were put through.”  He shook his head.  “Perhaps you thought about following me to Tevinter all those years ago.  Know that I’ve thought about following you into death these past few months.  They’ve been torture, Kes.”  His voice broke and he hid his face behind a hand, yet tears slipped past, making fast trails down his cheeks.

Dorian still thought he was dead, some apparition sent to haunt him or some ill effect of the poison.  “But I--”

He continued, despite the flow of tears that persisted.  “When I first saw you lying there, I thought surely it was some jest at my expense.  A horrible one, mind you, but still, just a prank.  As I left, I convinced myself your death wasn’t real.  Even after I returned to the city, I waited for you.  I waited by the door for days, sure you’d arrive at any moment or send word of your daring escape.  But those days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.  Eventually, I had to admit defeat, because if you were truly alive, you would’ve let me know you were okay as soon as possible.  No, insist all you want, Kes, but I know you’re just some figment of my mind.  At least, we’ll be together soon, once this tea take effect.”

“But my death was supposed to free you.  You were supposed to drop this marriage plan and move on with your life, Dorian.”

“At first I believed I deserved this life after failing you.  But I can’t keep going.  I can’t keep fighting for this life.  There’s no point in fighting without you, Kes.  Don’t you understand?”

Kestrel rose to his feet, upset.  “No, I don’t understand!  You’ve lived without me before, Dorian.  You could do so again.”

“One can only have their heart ripped out so many times before they perish, amatus.”

Had he truly left Dorian in such a state?  But why?  He was nothing; worth none of this drama.  He’d thought he could just fade away with his faked death.  Sure, he’d never forget Dorian, but Dorian would eventually move on.  He never thought he’d drive Dorian to take his own life.  How could he have crushed Dorian so thoroughly?

His heart broke with the sight of Dorian weeping, hiding his emotions poorly behind a bejeweled hand.  He needed to stop this.  Words weren’t convincing enough.  Without another thought, Kestrel approached Dorian in his velvet-lined chair and crawled onto his lap, like those many nights in Skyhold after exhaustive days.  He nudged Dorian’s collar out of the way and buried his head against Dorian’s neck.  He smeared tears along the way, but those would stop soon enough.  He’d see to it.  “I’m not dead,” he whispered, like words were needed after pressing himself as close to Dorian as possible.

Dorian remained unreceptive to him for a long moment, rigid and still.  Finally, he inhaled and groaned out “Amatus” coming to life and curled his arms around Kestrel.  “How could you?” he asked, still holding Kestrel close.  “How could you leave me thinking you died?  Your death was the end of my life.”

“I’m sorry, ma vhenan.  I thought for sure you’d cancel your wedding plans and move on.”

“Why would you ever think that?”

Kestrel groaned before whispering, “I’m nothing.”

“You’re everything to me,” Dorian whispered fervently, tightening his hug.  “Don’t you realize how perfect you are?”

Perfect?  Hardly.  “Oh yeah, a one-armed, powerless, has-been,” Kestrel scoffed.

“You’re a hero.  You saved the people of Ferelden and Orlais.  Even Tevinter whispers about the deeds the Inquisitor accomplished, omitting the fact that you’re an elf, but that’s something we can work on.  And while your arm loss is unfortunate, the people view it as a selfless sacrifice, even still, years later.”

“That’s the Inquisitor, Dorian.  He had a whole army and spies and loyal companions to help accomplish everything.  That’s not me.”

“No?  But you, Kes, not the Inquisitor title is what attracted everyone to your side and kept them there.  Me included.  Do you know what we see in you?”

Kestrel shook his head against Dorian’s shoulder.

“You’re kind, caring, intelligent.  You’re a selfless protector of the small and helpless.  And so strong.  When backed into a corner, you never back down, you never give up.  You inspire others around you to be better, to try harder.  And you give everyone hope.  When I lost you, that’s what I missed the most, the hope that everything will get better, that everything will be okay.  You radiate it.”  

Kestrel realized his own tears dampened Dorian’s neck.

Dorian snuggled closer to whisper, “Not to mention, you make a wonderful companion in bed.”

Kestrel snorted, unable to hold back a smile against Dorian’s skin.

Dorian released a soggy chuckle.  “We’re a fine pair, don’t you think?  We’re so wonderful at this relationship thing that we’ve left each other hopeless and alone.”

“Better together,” Kestrel repeated their motto, mumbling into Dorian’s throat.

Shifting enough to put some space between them, Dorian stared him down with a sad grin.  “I can’t continue to do this, Kes.”

“Oh…” was all he could respond with, pulling even further away. Then why did Dorian bother to build him up just to cast him aside?

Dorian prodded Kestrel’s forehead.  “Stop those thoughts running through that mind of yours.  I meant, I’ll go wherever you want.  Back to Orlais,” although puckered lips showed what he thought of that idea, “back to Skyhold.  I’d even stay with your Clan again, if you prefer.”

Kestrel was stunned, slowly blinking with surprise.  That wasn’t what he expected to hear.  “You’d sleep in the woods, traveling around in an aravel, for an indeterminate length of time just to be with me?”

“I waded through the cursed waters of Cresthold and trudged the rainy beaches of Storm Coast, and you doubt I’d remain by your side with your Clan?  I love you, and I know Tevinter holds terrible memories for you.  I wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to leave, but I’m not leaving your side again.”

“Dorian, all I’ve wanted since Corypheus died is you.  Tevinter is worse than the Fade, but you have work to do here.  You’re not leaving, and I’ll be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Dorian sought out Kestrel’s hand.  Having it in his grasp, he placed a gentle kiss to the ring still secure on his finger.  “Forever it is, then.  I should’ve known when the ring didn’t come off,” he finished in a mutter.  Suddenly, a look of horror washed over his face.  “I went to the pit after I was told your body was burned...there were remains there and I…”

“You took what you thought was a piece of me with you?”

Dorian opened a small pouch on his belt and retrieved a charred finger bone.  With a look of absolute disgust, he whispered, “Whose bone am I holding if not yours?”

“Morven’s.”

“Maker’s breath!”  Dorian chucked the bone across the tent, through the opening.  “Mother thought he ran away with that boy, too afraid to face her wrath, when he didn’t show back up.  She was highly disappointed, but I can’t say I was sad to see him gone.  Now that I know the truth, I really should’ve known you were alive!”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Dorian.  You had no way of knowing.”

“True.  And I’m going to be quite peeved at you for a bit for letting me believe you’d truly died.  You’ll have to work for my forgiveness.”  Dorian smirked that oh-so familiar smirk that went straight to Kestrel’s groin.  

“Forever,” Kestrel breathed, leaning in close, although something stopped him from closing the gap completely.  Some nagging lack of self-worth left him lingering close with lips slightly parted and brow creased in doubt.

Dorian didn’t hesitate.  He kissed Kestrel fast and hard, and the groan of appreciation that left one of them, maybe both of them, was sinful and completely unavoidable.

The kiss was tears of sorrow and joy and love all compressed into a single, peaceful moment between the two of them.  And then it turned needy and desperate.

Kestrel shifted his position, straddling Dorian.  He took a moment to stare down at Dorian from his new height, fingers skimming along the shorn side of his head before threading through the base of the ponytail and pinned him in place with a harsh hold.

“Kes,” Dorian groaned, lips parted in need, but unable to close the distance between them.

“Why have the last two months felt longer than the last two years apart?” Kestrel whispered, mouth hovering close but not close enough.

Dorian smirked.  “I missed you too.”

That playful grin was his downfall from the first time he met Dorian.  That hadn’t changed over the years.  Unable to resist him any longer, Kestrel crushed his lips against Dorian’s, tongue questing out to meet his.  This man was Kestrel’s whole world.  Gone was the struggle of the last two months, gone was the wedding waiting for them, gone was the worry of being noticed or caught.  Even though doubt and shadows still plagued him, nothing else mattered but Dorian.  He lost himself in Dorian’s mouth, in Dorian’s touch, in the soothing scent of sandalwood that permeated the air around him.  It was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Dorian seemed to feel the same, for he grabbed Kestrel’s hips and pushed him down on his cock tenting the thin fabric of his pants.

With only thin leggings on himself, Kestrel moaned with the lack of barrier between them, and Dorian pressed up further.  “I want you.  Now.  Right now,” Kestrel whispered, urgent and eager.

“Eh-hem.”  Someone cleared their voice nearby.

Both men stilled before reluctantly separating.  

“Seems like that may have to wait,” Dorian murmured.

Swamped by barely buried fears, Kestrel remained rigid and watched Dorian for his reaction to the visitor.

“Dorian, everyone is waiting for you, for your own wedding that you inanely agreed to, and here I find you making out with a slave instead!  If you were this determined to fuck it up, you should’ve declined the marriage agreement.”

Kestrel recognized Maevaris’ voice and turned his head to find her annoyed glare land on him.  He watched as it shifted from irritation to confusion to wonder.

“Oh!  Now I understand!  Don’t quite understand how you’re here, alive, mind you, but I completely understand what has Dorian preoccupied now.”

“He’s not dead, Mae,” Dorian said, arms wrapping around Kestrel possessively, as if he was worried if he let Kestrel go, he’d disappear again.

“I can see that.  Now, what’s the plan?  I assume poor Atria needs to be informed.  And then…?”

“We have to stop your mother, Dorian.  This is our chance to confront her in front of a crowd,” Kestrel said.

Maevaris nodded her head.  “I agree.  If she makes a deal with you before half of the elite of Tevinter, she’ll have to honor it.”

“The only chance we have of that happening is to catch her off guard,” Dorian said with a frown.  That frown suddenly shifted to a devilish grin.  “Walk down the aisle with me, Kes.”

Kestrel looked at him, confused.  “What?”

“Walk down the aisle with me instead of Atria.  My mother believes you dead, it’ll completely shock her.  Before she collects her wits, I’ll lay the blame on her for the attacks, stealing you from me, and for forcing the marriage.”

“And if she attacks?” Maevaris asked.

“I doubt she will before a crowd.  But, if it happens, we can fight back.  She has to make the first move, though, if our defense is to be completely sanctioned.”

Kestrel and Maevaris nodded in agreement.

“Mae, can you please give us a moment?”

Grinning, Maevaris said, “Of course, my dear.  But don’t take too long.  The crowd is waiting for the show.  I’ll break the news to Atria.”

They both watched her leave before turning their focus back to each other.

“Do you think this will work?” Kestrel asked.

“It’s our best chance at being free from her.”

“I’ll kill her if I have to,” whispered Kestrel into the growing space between them.

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

Kestrel kissed Dorian’s cheek before climbing off his lap and removing one of the blades underneath his cloak.  Passing it over to Dorian, he said, “Just in case.”  He’d kill anyone he needed to keep Dorian safe, but Dorian needed his own protection too.

Dorian accepted the blade and promptly shifted topics, asking with a playful wink, “Ready to walk down the aisle?”

Kestrel flushed.  “With you?  Yes.  Oh!  But…”  Didn’t to-be spouses normally lay everything on the table before getting married?  Even if this wasn’t the real deal, Kestrel still felt the need to confess bubbling up within him.

Dorian watched him with a raised brow.  “...Yes?”

“Uhm...just to let you know, I sort of adopted a kid while we were apart.”

Dorian’s face contorted, and Kestrel couldn’t be sure what the expression staring back at him meant.

“The boy…?  The boy Dalish from my mother’s estate?” Dorian finally said after a heavy pause.

Nodding, Kestrel remained silent to allow Dorian to process.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.  You took in every stray animal at Skyhold, even those terrifying draskolisks and the oversized nug.  Why, I’m surprised you aren’t running an orphanage at this point.  And, unlike the beasts, at least he’s old enough to handle his own waste, right?” Dorian muttered, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Kestrel laughed.  That was Dorian’s reluctant acceptance.  He’d take it for the time being, knowing Dorian would warm to the boy soon enough.  “I think you two will get along well,” he said once his laughter broke.  He offered a reassuring pat to Dorian’s shoulder.

“And there’s always the Circle to ship him off to if not,” Dorian said with a grin.

***

After further delay to ensure Kestrel was presentable to the public of Tevinter and to allow for a surprisingly amiable good luck and goodbye from Dorian’s now ex-fiance, they were ready to proceed with their plan to demand their freedom from Dorian’s mother.  In hindsight, it was a poorly thought-out plan, and if they weren’t so high on the feelings from their reunion, maybe calmer minds would have recognized this.  As it stood, they marched arm-in-arm down the field as delicate music filled the air, heralding the arrival of the groom and his bride.  They made it to the back end of the guests before an errant bow screeched over the wrong string and the music shuddered to a halt.

Offended gasps and hushed whispers filled the silence, growing louder during their procession along the white velvet walkway.  Chairs creaked, everybody repositioning to follow their trek closer and closer to the gaping Grand Cleric waiting under the arbor.

Kestrel clung hard to Dorian’s arm, hoping the crowd didn’t notice how tight his grip was.  He kept his back straight and head held high even as sneers and racist remarks waited behind every shocked expression, yet on the inside, he longed to stealth.  As Inquisitor, he learned to tolerate being the center of attention, but that had waned over the years.  Now he wanted nothing more than to slip away from the hard glares.

Dorian seemed to sense his unease and placed his hand over Kestrel’s, thumb stroking Kestrel’s tumultuous hold.

It calmed him, soothed his very soul to know that he was by Dorian’s side again.  He was the one walking down the aisle with him, no one else.  Even if this was a farce, Dorian was his, and he’d fiercely protect those he loved.  Dorian has been right about that.  Kestrel cloaked himself in his anger, pissed that people would pass judgement on them so quickly without knowing anything about them.  He glared back at those Magisters and Altus and anyone else who dared to meet his gaze, feeling feral and fierce.

“Why, Inquisitor, what a pleasant surprise.  I thought you dead.  And very few runaway slaves return to their Mistress by their own will.”

Kestrel turned his snarl to Aquinea perched upon her platform, overlooking the ensemble.

“I didn’t return to you as your slave.  We came to negotiate.”

“Negotiate with a slave?  You wear my brand, pet.  I only use your former title as a reward for returning to your side, not to give you a false sense of power.”  She waved her hand towards Kestrel.  “Guards, retrieve my property.”

The guard stationed around the platform moved to intercept, but Dorian held up his hand, buying them a moment’s pause.

Dorian squeezed Kestrel’s hand.  “Mother, this is unacceptable.  Kestrel is not a slave, but the Inquisitor of Fereldan and Orlais.  You forced his enslavement before through trickery and deceit.”

“What do I care what importance he carries in other countries?  In Tevinter, he’s a lowly raffas, and my men captured him fairly in the streets of Minrathous.  I’ve branded him and claimed him as my own.”

“Kestrel won’t be your pet, and I will not be going through my your marriage arrangements.”

“Your sense of entitlement is impressive, son, but fruitless.  If you will not keep to the deal we agreed upon, then I see no further use for you.  Guards, kill him but capture the slave.”

Six men advanced on them, shoving startled guests out of their way.  Soon enough the people got the message and abandoned their seats to form a semi-circle around the podium

Aquinea didn’t seem to care about attacking them in front of an audience which worried Kestrel.  Did she have enough power or enough clout that she didn’t fear the repercussions from attacking a Magister in the open?

That was the last Kestrel was able to ponder as two guards lunged at him, weapons still sheathed.  He had the advantage.  They were working to subdue while he had no such constraints.

He yanked his dagger from its sheath on his lower back just in time to cut into the forearm of a guard reaching for him.  The man jolted back with a startled hiss, gripping the cut as blood ran freely.  Yet as he dropped back, the second man jumped him from behind, putting him into a choke hold and pulling him off balance.  The two of them toppled onto the ground.  Kestrel used the momentum of their fall to flip the blade in his palm and plunge it deep into the man’s gut.  He was immediately released, and Kestrel scrambled to his feet, searching for Dorian.

Dorian had made quick work of the other four guards.  Three burned corpses sprawled on the ground around him while the fourth stumbled over to Aquinea.  He made a choking noise, reaching for her.  Then he exploded.  Blood and bits of flesh and innards rained down around two booted feet left behind, falling primarily on the stage and on Aquinea, turning her white dress crimson.

“We will win, Mother.  It’s time you see reason and let us be,” Dorian said, strands of unruly hair plastered to his sweaty forehead.  He looked glorious, and he looked pissed.

Aquinea dragged her fingers over her lips, smearing blood from her cheek along her face.  A pink tongue darted out, tasting.  “Seems I’ll have to do this myself,” she said, sounding completely put out.  Her gaze locked on to the remaining guard nursing his arm.  With a smirk, she gestured and more blood poured from his wound.

Kestrel and Dorian stood horrified as a shocked gasp rose up around them.  Still, no one came to help.

The collected blood launched as red spears at Dorian, slamming into a hastily generated barrier.

Kestrel stealthed, bloodied dagger ready.  If he could just get to her…

Dorian’s shield shattered around him, sending him to his knees.  He was helpless and by the grin on Aquinea’s face, she knew it.

Abandoning all plans of assassination, Kestrel tucked the blade close to his arm and darted towards Dorian, tackling him just as a fresh spell was cast.  It slammed into his back, knocking the breath from his lungs and leaving him gasping.

Dorian frowned beneath him, cupping Kestrel’s face in his hands.  “Amatus?”

And that’s when Kestrel realized everything was horribly wrong.

While he could feel Dorian’s gentle touch, he couldn’t move.  Nothing would respond to his mind’s command.  Not a blink, not a twitch, not a part of him moved as he willed it.  Fortunately, his lungs still fought for air and his heart thudded in his chest.  All he could do was watch Dorian struggle beneath him, pinned and trying desperately to figure out what was wrong with Kestrel.  And then the burning started.

It was subtle at first, a tingling in his veins of his extremities before it worked its way inward, intensifying until every cell of his body screamed as if it were on fire.  Strangled gasps left Kestrel as his body seized, its only way of a fought-for response.  Water trickled out his eyes, out of his nose, dripping red onto Dorian’s face.  Not water, then.

“Kes?  Kes!” Dorian cried, clutching his face.

The fingers digging into his cheeks felt like a gentle caress compared to the raging inferno that burned within him, blood boiling in his veins.

Kestrel watched as Dorian’s attention was redirected at someone incoming.  There was a jerk of Kestrel’s hand as Dorian’s face settled into a delicate mask of disgust, barely hiding the fear and rage behind it.

“His death is on your hands, son.  I wanted to keep him alive, but you had to fight,” Aquinea said, her boot appearing in the periphery of Kestrel’s vision, near Dorian’s head.

The agony was too much to bare, darkening the edge of his vision.  Yet the most frustrating part was not being able to scream or curse out the pain or clench his body against an incoming blow.  He was helpless to whatever blood magic spell had taken hold of him.

Aquinea‘s boot inched closer, her shadow darkening their forms.  “I wish you’d never been born, Dorian.  You were such a waste of my time and energy.  Halward agreed until the end when you somehow persuaded him otherwise, and I—“

Without warning, Dorian snagged her ankle and yanked with all his might.

Aquinea yelp in surprise as she fell to the ground next to Dorian.

Again, calling on his strength, Dorian wrapped his arms around Kestrel and shoved up, rolling them over until Kestrel was wedged between Dorian on top, and Aquinea’s lower half underneath.

Kestrel barely registered what happened next as the void of unconsciousness threatened to pull him under.  It’d be a welcomed relief from his melting insides.

Metal glinted in the sunlight as Dorian reared back, blade-in-hand plummeting towards Aquinea’s heart.  

Then Kestrel slipped into blessed unconsciousness.