#and headcanon that he can move around the fade so Lavellan can visit him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shitfics · 8 years ago

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The Smallest of Deeds (1/8); jongyu; nc-17

Jinki's clan is gone.

Killed by humans, with no trace of a motive, on a night he spent away at Jonghyun's cabin. To save Jinki from his loneliness -- and his desire for revenge -- Jonghyun suggests they journey south to find Taemin.

Their search for a place and purpose sends them to an organization known as the Inquisition, and the dangers they face after joining force Jonghyun and Jinki to confront parts of themselves and their relationship that threaten to break them apart.

[mirror on ao3]

Here it is, as promised! As with the last part of DA au, this work is (near) complete, so I will be posting the updates every other day. Thanks as always to my lovely betas, @jongyued, @yurilikesgirls, and @fleckle. I couldn't have done it without y'all!

This is my first time writing (what I would say) a traditional fantasy-type story with fighting and traveling, so I hope it's enjoyable.

I highly recommend reading As the Sapling Bends and the DA AU drabbles first, especially if you are unfamiliar with the dragon age series, as I introduced a few concepts in the first part. Feel free to message me with any questions/comments you have along the way! I will be posting on AO3, and will keep anon commenting enabled on every story there. I also have some doodles for the fic (mostly of jinki cause he’s gorgeous).

More notes (and the fic) are behind the cut.

For the fellow da nerds: as with the last fic, this should all be reasonably canon-compliant. It begins after the Inquisition has moved to Skyhold and stretches through the mission in the Arbor Wilds up to the end of the game (though onjongtae are elsewhere for those events). There will be no appearances or interactions the Inquisition cast to keep naming consistent/avoid confusion, but I do have headcanons about some interactions that I’ll share if anyone is interested, lol.

Since this fic revolves around the Inquisition more than Jinki's clan/Dalishness, the title is taken from an unknown Canticle of the Chant of Light:

Though the lands suffer a thousand wrongs, The Maker yet notices the smallest of deeds.

Since I tried to position all the characters in this story as background characters -- they don't exactly hold the fate of the world in their hands, or know much about what is going on at the highest point of the Inquisition organization, but the events still affect them, and their work fits into the larger goals of the Inquisition.

***

A storm has battled Ostwick for two days now. Jinki and Jonghyun arrived at the port city on the edge of the Waking Sea just in time to find shelter at a shabby inn. With no ships yet leaving, and the whispers about the obvious apostate and the savage knife-ear biting at them each time they attempt to take their meals in the inn’s tavern, they’ve been trapped inside the small bedroom.

The rain beats loudly against the window with each thrust of wind, and the noise is loud enough to drown out Jonghyun’s surprised gasp when a hot mouth covers his neck. He doesn’t question it at first — because it’s Jinki, and he’ll take anything the man will give him — until he’s pulled forward and over the older elf to sit between his legs.

“Fuck me,” Jinki breathes.

Jonghyun’s heart pounds in his chest.

This isn’t right.

Jinki’s eyes are too desperate, and Jonghyun knows from their months together that this isn’t something Jinki would ask for out of true want.

He steels himself and looks into Jinki’s eyes. “No.”

Jinki flips them over. His next words are nearly a growl. “Then let me fuck you.”

Jonghyun’s pulse races. That idea’s familiar — that’s something they’d done many times before Jinki’s clan was slaughtered, and once after, when Jonghyun had been too relieved to see any sign of life in Jinki to worry he might be taking advantage.

He doesn’t think he did. Jinki had slept then — a truly restful sleep — for the first night in a week.

Jonghyun searches Jinki’s face. He sees the bags under his eyes, the new hollowness in his cheeks, and the tight line of his lips. Jonghyun nods.

His hands are pushed over his head, and Jinki’s legs slip between his. Before, it had been tentative instinct Jinki worked on, where this is entirely feral. His legs are sore from their travel, but he welcomes it when Jinki lifts and spreads them, relaxing himself for the push of a finger against him. A second joins it, then a third, and Jonghyun has to grip at the rough sheets as his body is overwhelmed at being given so much so suddenly.

Even in his rush, Jinki always drags this part on out of fear of causing hurt without it. Jonghyun urges him on by reaching for the oil brought with them and pressing it against the side of Jinki’s hand. The sound of Jinki coating himself in it is quick and wet, and though Jonghyun knows this is more about need and distraction than pleasure, it still brings a warm flush to his cheeks.

The push in is fast, and Jonghyun can only hold on, clutching tighter at Jinki’s shoulders with each thrust until Jinki’s hips go rigid against him. The warm weight of Jinki’s body over his is enough for Jonghyun to finish first, and his release paints the sweat trapped between their stomachs when Jinki pulls back.

The nuzzle at his neck nears an apology and Jonghyun hums at it, letting his fingers smooth through Jinki’s hair until his breathing finally steadies with sleep.

Jonghyun sighs. The dark clouds of the storm have dimmed the sun, but he can still see the tension that has set itself so permanently into Jinki’s brow it remains even in his sleep.

The last time he saw peace in it was weeks ago, after one of the rare times Jinki chose to share his bed for the night. They’d even parted with a long kiss, and Jonghyun had smiled as he left, heart fluttering with the knowledge that Jinki would likely be back in a few days’ time with yet another carved trinket he pretended wasn’t a gift.

Then Jinki had returned only hours later, covered in blood, his hands dirty and full of Dalish-made items.

They’re gone, Jonghyun. All of them.

Jinki hadn’t cried. Only a brief, heart-rending stutter gave away his pain when he repeated to Jonghyun that his clan — his entire clan, because he had counted, and searched — was dead. That had been the start of the numbness.

The rage came next.

Jonghyun hadn’t known how to handle it. He’d been dealing with his own demons — the real and twisted spirits that visited every mage in their sleep when their dreams carried them to the Fade. For the first time in years, they tempted him with offers of power — power large enough to hunt and kill whatever human bastards had killed Jinki’s clan, if only he would let them in.

It took more than all his willpower to turn them down. And he’d had to draw on it again, when the glint of Jinki sharpening his knife in the dead of night had woken him from the Fade.

And he had to argue against revenge, as much as he thought it right. The number of humans it must have taken to wipe out the clan would be too many for Jinki to kill on his own. Jinki hadn’t cared, at first. Even the death of one shem could make the rest fear for their lives, and the clan deserved its justice, he’d said. He only stood down when Jonghyun reminded him that his death would mean the complete erasure of clan Lavellan, which was likely what the humans wanted. Even then, Jinki’s agreement was more a defeat than a resolution to move forward.

The days after that had become a blur.

With no chance of obtaining retribution, Jinki went quiet. Jonghyun knew better than to press him, so he had tried to resume his normal routine in hopes that would give Jinki some comfort. It took him days to drag him out of bed and into the garden, and even then, he could hardly call it normal — there were none of Jinki’s teasings, or the skittish smiles he’d give before stealing a kiss. Only Jinki following him like ghost, the markings of his vallaslin through cutting the growing gauntness of his cheeks.

Out of desperation, he’d suggested heading south, to Ferelden, to see if Taemin was still there.

Jinki had latched onto it like a lifeline.

They’d left the next day, walking from sunrise to sunset, and Jonghyun couldn’t even bring himself to complain about the grueling pace Jinki set. Traveling, at least, seemed to soften the wounded edge of Jinki’s silence.

That Jonghyun had come with him didn’t seem to sink in until they were booking their first room at an inn days later. He remembers the way Jinki had looked at him then, wide-eyed and vulnerable as he sat on the dingy mattress.

Are you...going all the way to Ferelden with me?

Of course. I want to stay by your side.

The words had slipped out without a thought, but he didn’t regret them. He could have deflected with a dozen excuses for coming along: that he was tired of the cabin, that he was curious about the new organization in Ferelden that had brought an end to the war by allying with the mages, that he wanted to see Taemin himself — but he wanted Jinki to know how he felt. He deserved to know that he had someone, even if that someone was a shem and a mage.

It seemed to help, if anything could be said to. That had been the night Jinki had taken him last, a flicker of heat behind the pain in his eyes, and when he’d begun to curl against Jonghyun for warmth when he slept.

With a sigh, Jonghyun fixes the thready blanket tighter around them both to block out the world and bring Jinki closer. If the storm ends, he needs to be up early to find a ship that will take them both and make preparation. They both need all the rest they can take.

***

Sleep leaves him slowly, and the waking hole in Jinki’s chest makes him reluctant to leave its embrace. The mattress is still warm in the empty space next to him, and he shifts into it without opening his eyes. For a long moment, he thinks himself in Jonghyun’s cabin, safe in his bed, until a sharp breeze from the window carries the unfamiliar scent of saltwater into the room.

He grimaces. A wave of nausea rumbles in his empty stomach, reminding him of his location and everything that led him here. He’s in some shem city on the coast, waiting for the storm to clear so they can follow Taemin’s trail south.

What he’ll do when he sees him, he hasn’t the slightest clue — but that isn’t important now. All he needs to think about is getting there.

He stretches out his legs, realizing only after he pulls away the blanket and rises that Jonghyun is still in the room.

“Morning, Jinki.” Jonghyun tries at a smile from the small seat by the window. He picks up the basket on the table at his side. “I went ahead and bought pastries for breakfast so we could get an early start.”

A sweet and buttery smell wafts from the covered basket, drawing a growl from his stomach as Jonghyun brings it close. The collar of Jonghyun’s robes hangs low when he bends to set the food on the bed, and Jinki freezes at the sight.

One side of his neck is mottled with purple spots, dark enough for Jinki to wonder how he didn't realize he’d been making them the night before.

“You should eat something,” Jonghyun says, interrupting his staring. He unwraps the white cloth surrounding the pastries and takes a simple piece of bread for himself. “You don’t know if you’ll suffer from seasickness, and it’ll be hard to keep anything down then.”

“I don’t feel hungry,” Jinki says. Because despite all the weakness of his body and the emptiness of his stomach, it’s true. He hasn’t wanted to eat for days now. When he looks at food, all he can think of is the winter’s worth of stores from the aravels, scattered and wasted across the ground next to Joonmyeon’s body.

Jonghyun pushes a roll beneath his nose. “Please.” Then, more gently, “It has a berry filling.”

One glance at the desperate look in Jonghyun’s eyes makes him feel guilty enough to snatch the roll. He forces himself to take a bite, chewing slowly as he works through every foreign motion of his jaw. The sweetness of the berries feels dull on his tongue, and he only finishes because Jonghyun continues to watch him in worry.

Once he’s finished, Jonghyun smiles and hands him another roll. “You’re welcome to the rest of these. I’m going to prepare our things. I already found a ship that’ll take us this morning.

Jonghyun bustles about the room, thoughts about their plans spilling forth unfiltered as he gathers his belongings. “We’ll sail across to Jader, and from there, it’s only a few days of walking south to Haven. That’s the town Taemin said he was leaving for, and we can ask someone there where he might be now. We both know he sticks out, and he can’t resist chatting up strangers. Any locals are likely to remember him, so his trail should be easy to follow.” He stops to look at Jinki. “Does that sound like a good plan?”

“Sounds fine,” Jinki agrees. He swallows the last crust of his roll, dry throat protesting around the small piece. He didn’t mind letting Jonghyun take the lead on their travels. It's made things easier, since most of the people they had to negotiate with were humans. Only one inn had refused them a room since one of them was an elf, but the rejection had been vehement enough he’d avoided talking with shems since.

Life in the forest with the Dalish had nearly made him forget that most of the world wants elves dead, enslaved, or carving out a servile existence in the slums. The memory of the inn-keeper’s scowl grates him, and he can’t help the twist of his lips when he looks up at Jonghyun. “Do the people you booked passage with know that I’m an elf?”

Jonghyun’s lips tighten. Though Jinki would never ask, he has a feeling the only thing that kept him from chewing the ear off that inn-keeper and burning the place down had been his consideration for Jinki’s wariness of magic.

“Yes, they know you’re an elf.” He closes his pack. “And I made sure they wouldn’t take issue with it.”

Jinki nods, trusting Jonghyun’s assessment, and stands to pack his few things.

He hadn’t been able to bring much from the remnants of his clan’s camp. The killers had looted the valuables and left little else. He has his bow, extra strings, his ironbark armor, one of Joonmyeon’s potion flasks, and Hyoyeon’s sword. The rest of the items important enough to qualify as mementos but worthless to the shems, he had hidden in a small cave that he knew would serve as a nest to snakes later in the season to keep animals from stealing. Hopefully, he can return to them someday.

Grabbing his long belt, he straps Hyoyeon’s sword to his side, letting it hang over the daggers attached to his thigh. Hyoyeon had served as a teacher to him in his first years of freedom, and he feels less trapped by the presence of shems around him with the sword at his side.

It will likely cause him more trouble than it would prevent — he’s heard that elves in Ferelden cities are forbidden by law to carry weapons, and the sword is as long as his arm — but he refuses to try and blend in.

Not that he could, even if he wished to — the markings of their goddess Andruil are plain on his cheeks and forehead, and he knows he’ll stick out amongst the bare-faced elves in the cities.

“Ready to leave?” Jonghyun shoots him an encouraging smile from the door, pack and poorly-disguised staff already fixed to his back.

Jinki nods and joins Jonghyun, not bothering to spare a look for the room behind him. They descend the stairs in silence, and Jonghyun tosses an undeservedly cheerful farewell over his shoulder to the innkeeper before leading them outside to the streets of Ostwick.

The coastal city was built scaffolded to aid its defense from pirates, with high walls to separate each level. The poorer districts were built along the coasts, where they would be easy targets for fireballs from any attacking mages, while the nobles’ mansions perched arrogantly over the top with large glass windows to overlook the city below.

The inn they stayed in is shabby enough that only the elven slums stand between them and the docks, and the overwhelming stench of fish and saltwater, made heavier by the recent storms, hangs over the poorly cobbled streets. As they head towards the gate to the slums, the scent intensifies, and Jinki’s nose crinkles in distaste.

When he sees the poorly-patched houses of rotting wood and stone, he pushes back the hood of his cloak slightly, unable to restrain his curiosity. He’d experienced slavery and the free life of the Dalish, but never seen the more common city life of his kind.

Now, he’s grateful that he hadn’t.

As he’d expected from Taemin’s description, the adults look ill-fed, and the children only slightly better off. The shadowed alleys are dark enough to hide any less than legal professions from the city guard, and Jinki keeps an eye on them for movement, unsure how the inhabitants will react to a human and a Dalish man walking through their territory.

He’d expected glares towards Jonghyun — even his friendly Dalish clan kept an archer hidden in the bushes when humans came close for trade — but every elf they pass lowers their head when Jonghyun nears. Jinki catches a few lingering looks at his own markings, but even the most curious of them skitters away when they spot the staff on Jonghyun’s back.

Jinki grits his teeth and widens his steps until he’s ahead of Jonghyun. He can’t blame them for fearing a mage, but the deference Jonghyun is receiving makes him worry he’ll be mistaken for a servant or worse.

“I wonder if all ports smell this awful,” Jonghyun says when they reach the gates to the docks. His normal inviting smile is replaced with a persistent curl of his lips, and Jinki mirrors it, discomforted by the bustle of the city morning around him. Though Ostwick is nothing like the one he’d called home in Tevinter, the abundance of trade stalls and shouting shems along the docks reminds him too much of Perivantium.

“Where’s the ship we’ll be taking?”

“We’re taking the little boat with the blue sail. They’re Orlesian spice traders, but they allow the occasional passenger.”

Jinki follows Jonghyun’s pointer finger to the boat. The small ship is dwarfed in size by the massive trade and navy vessels, and is marked by the lion crest that Jinki assumes to be the flag of the Orlesian empress. Heavy-booted men and women trod expertly over the wood platforms leading to the ship, barrels and crates and bags hoisted over their shoulders as they load the vessel.

He keeps his eyes on his feet as they walk to the ship. The occasional whisper about his markings makes his ears twitch, and he has to fight the urge to reach for Jonghyun’s hand when he nearly falls after a shem bumps him roughly with the rolled up carpet he was carrying to a stall.

Finally, they stop in front of a broad-shouldered sailor.

“Is it too early for us to board?” Jonghyun asks. “We assumed you’d want us on as quickly as possible.”

“Not too early,” she says. Her eyes travel to Jinki. “This is the elf you said was your companion?”

Jonghyun stiffens. “Yes.”

“Those markings...they’re Dalish, no?” The sailor’s lip curls, eyes flicking from Jinki’s ears to his markings as if she can’t decide which offends her more. “You didn’t mention he was that kind of rabbit.”

Jonghyun’s gaze hardens. “He’s not a rabbit. And him being Dalish is irrelevant. I paid enough coin for the passage of two people. Tattoos don’t change that.”

She narrows his eyes at him, but Jonghyun only lifts his chin in response. The pause carries on long enough that Jinki thinks they’re going to be denied passage, but she surrenders under Jonghyun’s stare with a raise of her hands and a sigh. “Fine. You have a temper to make up for your stature, I see. Go ahead and board. Don’t cause any trouble.”

“Thank you,” Jonghyun says, the bow of his head too courteous for the curtness of his words. He adjusts his pack and makes sure Jinki is with him before stepping on the gangplank.

The black waters beneath him make his stomach clench, and it takes all his willpower to force himself up the rocking plank and onto the ship. Jonghyun seems as disconcerted as him, walking along with his arms almost fully extended to try and maintain his balance. He closes his eyes and sighs in relief when they board, then forces a laugh that’s clearly for Jinki’s sake.

“That was a new experience, wasn’t it? I’ve never been on a ship before — didn’t realize getting on one felt so perilous.”

“Me neither,” Jinki says, disarmed from silence by his nerves. His hands drift to the hilt of Hyoyeon’s sword for comfort as he watches the last of the cargo and sailors board.

There’s not a single pair of pointed ears except his own on the ship. The crew and passengers are entirely shem, and he’ll be stuck with them for the next week with no land to escape to.

The gangplank rises, and dread clenches his heart in his chest. His life is in their hands. There’s little he could do if they suddenly decided the ship would be better off without the lone elf, or if some of them had a penchant for elven features as he’d heard was common in Orlais—

Jonghyun places a gentle hand on his wrist. “Are you alright, Jinki?”

“Fine,” Jinki cuts. He jerks his arm away. There’s a small section of the deck not occupied by ropes or sailors, and he moves there to pace, ignoring the worry in Jonghyun’s eyes and the shrinking coast behind them. If the city had felt confining, this might drive him mad.

A shouted stream of Orlesian from nearby makes him flinch.

“We can try to find our cabin,” Jonghyun says. He points to a door on the end of the main deck. “It might be quiet down there.”

Jinki nods. He follows Jonghyun, dodging sailors and ropes until they’re through the door and descending into the depths of the ship. Thin strips of sunlight from the deck above and lanterns are their only light, and it takes them some time to find a door with a poorly-done carving of guest quarters in the wood.

The two beds inside are small, but nearly fill the cramped room. Jinki tosses his things under the left one and lays himself on it.

A wave rocks the ship, and Jonghyun stumbles to him. His eyes are squeezed shut, fist on the bedframe to balance himself, but his hand is gentle when reaches to brush back Jinki’s hair. “You can rest, if you want. I’ll be awake if you need anything.”

Jinki takes Jonghyun’s hand. He pauses, breathing slow for a moment, then twines their fingers together.

He's never been this far south. Never been this surrounded by humans. Even as a slave, there had always been the barracks, packed at all times of day with elves sleeping or sneaking off from work.

Being here feels like moving backwards, like he’s running again — because he is — but it’s all he can do. There’s no clan for him to go back to. Jonghyun’s cabin is too entwined with the memories of that life and the night he’d had to wash the blood of his friends from his clothes.

He curls his body tighter, until his knees are pressed against Jonghyun’s back, and waits for the images to fade.

***

Jinki wakes when something knocks into the wall near his head. He pushes the blanket that was covering his eyes down, expecting to see Jonghyun fumbling with his belongings, only to find him laying on the other bed with his eyes closed.

His ears twitch at the sound of something rolling away from him and knocking into the wall nearest Jonghyun when the ship leans right. As it rolls back, the rolling repeats, and Jinki reaches down to try and catch whatever was causing the cursed noise.

The instant his fingers close around the object, he recognizes it — he’d carved it, after all.

The miniature crystal grace fits easily in his palm. He stares at the wooden flower, puzzled. It’s a useless trinket. Yet Jonghyun had thought it important enough to bring with him.

Jinki shakes his head and rewraps it in the fabric sack it’d escaped from, then tucks it into a deeper pocket in Jonghyun’s bag quietly and tries to return to sleep before his thoughts can sneak up on him.

He has little luck. Every quiet breath from Jonghyun itches his nerves, and watching him sleep soundly fills him with a mix of guilt and envy. Even resting flat on his back provides him no comfort.

The roof of the cabin is closer than it’d been in Jonghyun’s home, but not as within reach as it had been in the aravels. Just low enough for him to feel trapped, and high enough for him to feel exposed. Restless, he rolls out of bed, bare feet falling quiet to the wooden planks underneath him.

His stomach instantly clenches with hunger, but he ignores it, not wanting to risk exploring the hallways of the ship's cabin to find the kitchen. Instead, he follows the path he remembers from their journey down to the guest room, following the peaks of moonlight and dim lamps until he finds the stairs that leads out of the hull.

He opens the door and steps out onto the damp wood. The bustle of the day is gone, and only the sound of the lapping waves meets his ears. Jinki walks to the rail at the edge of the deck. The dark waves froth into a spray against the sides of the ship that flies up to his toes. Jinki watches it with interest, marveling at the way the dark water breaks into a white foam against the wood.

The experience is so new, it cuts through the haze he’s been in since he left the cabin with Jonghyun. His fear is even gone, for a moment, though he knows there’s a sailor on the higher deck behind him and another on the crow’s nest.

He can’t imagine a world with a night like this is the same as the one he’s been living in.

His ears twitch when he hears the creak of a door and the footfalls of boots, and he turns to see Jonghyun exiting the cabin with a long yawn.

Jonghyun stops beside him, assessing the silence between them before he tries to smile. “You’re faring well, I take it? You don’t seem to be bothered by the waves at all.”

“No.” Jinki rebalances his feet to better cope with the rocking of the boat beneath them. “I suppose I’m lucky.”

“I’m glad for that,” Jonghyun says, tone entirely genuine even as his smile strains. His hand rests over his stomach, and his back is bent with a strained hunch.

Jinki steps back, eyeing Jonghyun with caution. “You don’t look like you’re going to keep down your supper.”

“I didn’t.” Another wave crashes against the stern, and Jonghyun reaches desperately for the rail and pales. “Damn the Maker for creating large bodies of water.”

Jinki raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Maker?”

“Of course I don’t.” Jonghyun grimaces. “But handling hardship is easier with someone to blame, isn’t it?”

Jinki’s lips quirk up as he remembers the last time he’d heard Jonghyun invoke the Maker. It hadn’t been hardship, though Jinki was to blame for it, in a sense — it’d been his fingers in Jonghyun, after all, that’d made him breathless and desperate enough to cry out for a deity he didn’t even worship.

He opens his mouth, ready to tease Jonghyun in his usual round-about way, when his throat suddenly tightens as the rest of the memory falls into place.

That might’ve been the night his clan was slaughtered, by a group that left no trace of their motive or allegiance.

His smile fades, stomach churning with guilt as his emotions reel back to him. While he spent the night in the bed of a shem, his clan had been fighting for their lives. And he still took comfort in that shem, kissed him and bedded him like he might die without it.

None of it made sense.

Joonmyeon should have lived. Hyoyeon should have lived. Jungah and her children should have lived.

Before he realizes it, his eyes are stinging, and Jonghyun’s hand is a careful weight on his arm.

“Jinki — I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I shouldn’t have phrased that the way I did, when you don’t know who—”

“No,” Jinki cuts him off. “You’re right. It would be easier, if I had someone to blame.”

“I know.” Jonghyun’s fingers tighten on him. “I wish we did, too. But if you had been there to see it, you wouldn’t have—” he chokes around the words, and his grip suddenly feels more desperate than assuring. “There wouldn’t be anyone to remember them.”

“Taemin would. They saved him, when we first escaped.”

“That’s true.” Jonghyun runs his hand down his arm slowly, until it rests on his elbow. “But it’s not the same as how you do. I’m not sure he’d paint the picture of them they deserve, considering he’s such a staunch Andrastian himself.”

Jinki looks at the ocean ahead to avoid Jonghyun’s eyes. “You think?”

“I don’t think he gave your clan or the life they lived the respect they deserved, no. Their refusal to live by humans laws and be locked in one part of the city should be admired. No one deserves to be controlled or ruled over just for how they were born.” Jonghyun smiles bitterly. “I like to think I can understand that, considering I’ve ran away from the Circle all these years to avoid being caged for my magic.”

Jinki hums. He has no words, but he finds himself leaning into Jonghyun with a small smile on his lips. Jonghyun had said something similar before, their first night alone, when Jinki had drunkenly asked him why he treated elves as equals. It’d been what drew him to Jonghyun, despite his magic and his humanness.

Though his clan is gone, he isn’t alone.

***

Jonghyun watches the approaching docks of Jader with a smile. He’ll be glad to back on land, and so will his stomach. He pays attention to Jinki and lingers as much as he can without earning a raised brow — the bags under Jinki’s eyes have gotten lighter, and his cheeks have already begun to round back out to their usual fullness.

He doesn’t understand it, but the sea seemed to bring Jinki some comfort. Though he’d avoided being around the humans on deck, he’d slept soundly during the day and come up for the last meal of the day. He’d even managed to have a full conversation with him, guessing what Taemin might have been up to in Ferelden. The adventures they could imagine him getting up to in the infamously laissez-faire country even made Jinki laugh.

Things are turning around. They’ll restock their supplies, rest for a day, have a solid meal that Jonghyun could finally keep down, then continue south to Haven.

But the news they get at the inn cuts through their plans.

“You’re headed to Haven? The Ferelden town the Inquisition used as their base?” The innkeeper frowns in pity and shakes his head. “That place was destroyed months ago.”

Jinki pushes past him to the counter. “Destroyed? What do you mean?”

“Yep. Whole town’s gone. Attacked by some crazed templars after the Inquisition ended the war by allying with the mages.”

Jinki pales. Jonghyun can see the thoughts running through his head — Taemin might be gone, he might have lost everyone — and jumps in.

“The Inquisition isn’t gone, though, is it? There had to have been survivors — I swear I’ve seen some of their scouts in the city. They’re the ones with the eye and sword symbol, aren’t they?”

“Aye, they’re rebuilding from the attack. I’ve heard they found some kind of ancient fortress in the Frostback Mountains and set up there. Hear they’re calling it Skyhold, since it’s so high up. Truly blessed by the Maker, to have found it.”

Jonghyun sighs with relief. “Do you know how we’d get there?”

“Same way as to their old base in Haven — either take the West route along the border of Orlais, or head east through Gherlen's Pass.”

“Thank you,” Jonghyun says. “The information is appreciated.” He places an extra few silver on the counter on top of the payment he’d already set out.

Jinki stares ahead, eyes unfocused. “If Taemin was there when it happened, then...”

“There were survivors.” Jonghyun squeezes Jinki’s arm to assure him. “And Taemin never stays in one place for long, you know him — he might have already left by the time Haven was destroyed. If we head to this fortress, we can ask if anyone knows where he might have gone. We’ll find something.”

Jinki nods stiffly. The agreement is disquieting, and Jinki following in his step when he exits the inn to go purchase supplies more so. Even in the first city they had visited, when humans were bustling about, Jinki had made sure to never follow him. He’d held his head high, as if to show off the dark vallaslin markings that cut across his cheeks.

Jonghyun glances back at Jinki, expecting him to pick up his step or at least flinch at the cacophony of the market around them, only to find Jinki looking past him with the blank stare he’d thought was finally gone.

Of all the things in the world, he knows that losing Taemin would break Jinki.

That night, Jonghyun uses his time dreaming in the Fade to search for some sort of spirit that can assure him Taemin is alive. Though he knows it's unlikely — spirits are rarely interested in those without magic, and there’s no solid way of communicating with most of them — he still tries, rushing through realm after realm in hopes of a hint.

His worries twist the world around him, swirling the mysts until they solidify into the forms of a dozen templars. They draw their swords at him, and Jonghyun tries to summon a spell, but his mind is too focused on the memory of their mage-silencing abilities for him to find his magic.

All he has is his staff, and even that seems to vanish from his hands as the templars loom closer.

He wakes in a sweat. His last memory of the Fade is of him on his knees, begging a passing spirit of Compassion for help.

When he rises, he sees Jinki is watching him from the door, lips an impassive line.

“Are you ready?”

Jonghyun swallows. “I will be in a minute.”

He stands and gathers his things, ignoring the shaking in his hands left from the remnants of his nightmare. His nightmares have been free of templars for months, and he’s never been so fearful that he’s lost his ability to use magic in the Fade.

Both of them are quiet on their way out of the city, lost in their thoughts. Jonghyun purchases another basket of pastries that they share as they walk to the Southern edge of the city. A caravan of dwarven traders invites them to join them for part of their journey south, citing Jinki’s markings and Jonghyun’s staff as sufficient intimidation for any bandits they might encounter along the way. To shave some days off their travel, they agree to come along, and stick with the caravan until they reach the Frostback Mountains, where they split.

As soon as they had reached the mountains, the weather turned to a biting cold. Jonghyun uses some of his coin to purchase them an extra cloak each and a pair of boots for Jinki at the small outpost marking the path up to Skyhold. After a short rest and a quick meal, they begin to hike the well-worn path up the mountains towards the new Inquisition base.

At least the grimace on Jinki’s face is from annoyance now, and not pain. He only says a few of his complaints aloud, but Jonghyun can tell the growing cold is grating on him, and being forced to wear true footwear is as well. An inappropriate giggle sneaks up his throat every time he catches Jinki glaring down at the thick boots as if they were traps clamped around his legs to hinder his movement.

The hazards of snow are new for both of them. It fell on Jonghyun’s cabin in some winters, but never for more than a few days, and never in the amount the mountains seem to hold. Here, there are mounds of it, blown into great drifts and covering all but the tallest rocks. As they round the trail to the west side of one of the mountains, Jonghyun nearly falls for the dozenth time that day when his feet sink into a deep pocket of the fresh white powder, but the curse on his lips is quickly dispelled by the sight before him.

“Wow.”

Jonghyun dusts off his robes, movement slowed by his wonder at the mountains ahead. The setting sun pinkens the snow, and frozen ponds dot glowing orange across the landscape for miles ahead.

He breathes slowly, letting the image sink in. “I never imagined I’d see anything like this — I can almost see how Taemin enjoys traveling.”

Jinki stops next to him. For a moment, Jonghyun realizes he might have said the wrong thing — he probably should have known better than to bring up Taemin, when they still don’t have confirmation he’s alive — but he relaxes when Jinki brushes a hand against his side.

He gives a small exhale (a laugh, maybe? Jonghyun hopes) that leaves a white puff in the air. “It is a pretty view...” His nose wrinkles with a sniff. “Miserably cold, though.”

Jonghyun grimaces. “Very miserable. I can imagine the night will be worse, too.”

Jinki nods. “We should set up our tent for now, and get as far as we can tomorrow. The faster we move, the fewer nights we will need to spend out here.”

“True.” Jonghyun bites his lip as he helps Jinki unload the canvas wrapped in their traveling pack.

Neither of them mention the other reason they wish to hurry.

Jonghyun lights a fire before dark to keep them from freezing as they eat their meager rations, and in the tent, they press together closely, not bothering to even use the second bedroll. The cold snakes too deeply in Jonghyun’s bones, and Jinki seems in need of him again, though Jonghyun knows he’d never admit it.

The slow and beseeching fit of Jinki’s solid body around his is familiar. He half-expects Jinki to take him as he did in the inn, but a hand slips between them, and Jinki only murmurs something about needing warmth before lifting Jonghyun’s robes to press their bare skin together.

Jonghyun closes his eyes, appreciating the heat. He’s not sure if he drifts off, or simply fades into a trance before the morning, but he has no memories of entering the Fade before the light of morning sneaking into their tent wakes him.

The moment he reaches to secure the flap, Jinki peels back the top of their bedroll and makes Jonghyun shiver at the sudden draft of cold air over his body.

“We should go. It’s light out.”

Jonghyun mumbles an agreement. He wonders if Jinki slept at all, but there’s no point in worrying — neither of them will rest soundly until they hear word of Taemin, and that won’t come until they reach the fortress the Inquisition holds.

Once their tent is torn down and back in Jinki’s bag, they begin the hike up the mountain. The pace Jinki sets is twice as brutal as yesterday, and Jonghyun is just about to ask him to slow down when the fog of the morning clears to reveal stone towers in the distance. Each tower is linked by a wall, and over the tops of them, Jonghyun can see the crest of several rooftops and a large flag bearing the Inquistion’s heraldry.

“That must be Skyhold,” Jonghyun says, struggling around the words as he tries to catch his breath. “We’re close.”

Jinki nods, but doesn’t stop to respond. With gritted teeth, Jonghyun hurries after him, willing himself to think of Taemin and not the burning in his lungs.

The sun has already lowered behind the mountains to the west when they reach a stone bridge leading from the end of the trail to the gate of the stronghold. A dozen refugees in tattered clothes file near the entrance, followed by a caravan of what looks to be merchants and a small group of dwarves carting a heavy and tightly-sealed container of what Jonghyun can only guess is lyrium.

At the end of the bridge, guards in Inquisition armor stand on both sides of the fortress’ open gate, spears pointed to the sky. Between them, a small table covered with parchment and ink houses a bearded man that nods sympathetically to each refugee’s story before waving for them to enter.

The door behind him opens, and a robe-clad elf with a surly step joins them for a moment to light the torches on either side before returning to the fortress.

Jonghyun’s breath catches. He’s never seen a fellow mage cast a spell so casually out in the open — he hasn’t even seen magic other than his own in years.

He follows Jinki to reach the line ahead of them. He’d heard of the Inquisition’s alliance with the mages, but a part of him hadn’t believed it. He unfastens his staff to lean on it as they wait, and after a moment’s hesitation, pulls off the worn wrappings around the crystal embedded in the end. He’s expecting a shout or at least a hissed curse, but earns no more attention than a raise of Jinki’s brow and a slight frown from a nearby dwarf.

No one in the line seems to care that he’s a mage. And when they finally reach the record keeper, he only gives his staff a single glance before tapping his quill against the parchment in front of him and adding a new blot of ink to the crowd at the corner of the page. “Are you an a apostate, or a refugee from one of the disbanded Circles?”

“...Apostate,” Jonghyun answers after a pause. “I haven’t lived in a Circle for years.”

The man marks this down on the paper as if it were no more concerning than his hair color, then nods to Jinki.

“You’re Dalish, eh? Are you are a mage as well?”

“I am Dalish,” Jinki says. He lifts his chin, either from pride at having his Dalishness acknowledged as something other than a curse or in defiance to being called a mage. “But I’m not a mage.”

The man’s brows furrow as he looks between them, trying to come up with a reason for a Dalish elf and a human apostate to travel together before shaking his head and asking them outright. “You’re an odd pair. You both refugees, or what?”

“Not quite,” Jonghyun says, taking over to prevent any further questions. “We’re actually looking for information on a friend. We believe he visited Haven, before it was destroyed, and we’re trying to make sure he’s alright. He likely arrived before the Inquisition was formed, or right when it happened, but we were hoping someone might remember him — he tends to stick out.”

“What’s his name?”

“Taemin. He’s an elf — blond hair, probably still long, wears it in a ponytail —”

“Ah — Taemin?” The man’s eyes light up in recognition, and he lets out a bellowing laugh. “Maker, that one’s memorable. I assume you’re lookin’ for the boy that sounds like some kind of crossbreed between an Antivan and a Tevinter?”

Jonghyun nods. His heart clutches tight in his chest when the man pauses, and he can feel Jinki’s arm against him as he leans forward.

“He’s still here — been here since we started, same as me. They have him putting together information and making maps. I see him come in and out of here with scouting parties often.” The man rubs the prickly hairs of his chin. “He’s a strange elf, but well—” he eyes Jinki up and down, then stares right at the vallaslin on his cheeks and grins. “I imagine he isn’t the strangest one we could have here, eh?”

Jinki ignores the teasing and leans forward. “Where can I find him? Will you let us in?”

The man’s expression sobers. “He has his own room in the east tower, on the second floor. And sure, you both can go in — just be sure to speak with the quartermaster before you settle in anywhere. Space is gettin’ a little tight with all the mages we have coming in now that the war’s over and the Circles are all gone.”

Jinki, in the little bit of emotion he allows himself to show, looks like he wants to turn and run. But when the man gestures for them to head through the gates, Jinki walks through them with the same determined square of his shoulder’s he’d been wearing since they first set south.

Jonghyun follows after him. A shout from a nearby soldier makes Jinki flinch mid-step, and Jonghyun reaches out to grab his hand, but stops himself before their fingers touch.

Jinki had never said outright he didn’t want their relationship to be public, but Jonghyun can guess he doesn’t want the first thing the Inquisition learns of him to be his partnership with an apostate, however accepted they might be.

He follows Jinki to the tower. After the all-day hike, the stairs should seem insurmountable, but his eagerness to see Taemin well and alive carries him up the stairs quickly.

Down the winding hall they reach an open door. After a glance inside, Jinki freezes with wide eyes, and Jonghyun stops by his side.

The room is littered with parchment, ink wells, and tools, but Jonghyun only sees a familiar head of blonde hair and a pair of long-pointed ears.

“Whoever you are, I’m busy.” Taemin waves a hand in their direction, not looking up from the parchment in front of him. “And if this is about the broken table in the tavern, that was not related to my dancing on it.”

“You broke a table?” Jonghyun asks.

“Maker, I just said, it wasn’t—” Taemin looks up to them, and the scowl on his lips freezes and falls. His brows knit together, then his eyes go wide, and he looks between them with bewilderment.

“...Jonghyun?” When Jonghyun nods, he stands, focus shifting quickly. “Jinki?”

Jinki steps forward. A grin finally blooms on Taemin’s lips, and he throws his quill to the stone floor and runs to embrace them. “Maker’s balls! What are you two doing here?”

Jinki stiffens in Taemin’s hold, and Jonghyun answers for him. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d expect so!” He pulls back and nods to Jonghyun’s staff. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised at Jonghyun being here, since we’ve had mages from all over the world join us — but I can’t say I expected it. Never seen you out of that damned clearing before, except those times you hunted with Jinki.”

Jonghyun smiles stiffly. He glances at Jinki, trying to read his expression, but settles on a half-truth when he receives no answer. “Well, you know — I was interested in hearing what happened with the mages.”

“Yeah, they’re allies now — though that’s old news at this point.” Taemin shrugs and turns to Jinki with a raised brow. “But why are you here? There’s no forests for you to frolic through down here, and I can’t imagine you in all your Dalish-righteousness wanting to join an organization so closely tied to the Chantry.”

Jinki looks down and pulls his lip between his teeth. Jonghyun’s fingers itch with the urge to offer a reassuring touch, but he holds back when he sees Jinki draw his breath to speak.

“My clan is gone.” He stops, breath halting as he swallows. “All of them. There were no survivors I could find.”

Taemin gapes. “...Survivors? Then you mean—”

“They were killed,” Jinki says, stone-faced. “I don’t know who did it. I was at Jonghyun’s the night it happened.”

“Maker, I can’t...” Taemin’s hand hovers over Jinki’s shoulder, clearly unsure what to do. “We’d heard of elves being attacked in the Free Marches after they were blamed for a plague, but only in the cities. I had no idea....” Taemin trails off, then clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, Jinki.”

Jinki’s gaze turns sharp. “Who attacked them?”

“It’s a bit complicated, and wrapped up in Inquisition business.” Taemin rubs his nose. “I’m not sure how much the whole story matters.”

“I want to hear everything.”

“Alright, well...” Taemin sighs. “There’s this group called the Venatori that was trying to manipulate all the mages into working for them, in exchange for help in the war.”

“Venatori?” Jinki repeats. He clenches his fist, the knuckles of his shaking hands turning white. “That sounds Tevene.”

“It is. They’re a Tevinter supremacy cult bent on taking over all the lands — typical Tevinter villanry, but worse. We stopped them from getting the mages, but their people are everywhere, it seems — they had their people poison the wells in the city that was close to your clan for some twisted magic experiments, but only the humans ones. And naturally, when the humans got sick, but the elves didn’t, the nobles called it a curse and blamed the elves. So they purged the slums.”

“And my clan.” Jinki swallows. “Are you still fighting them?”

“Of course.” Taemin squeezes Jinki’s shoulder. “That’s our primary mission now — taking down their leader and all their little pockets.”

“Elgar’nan ghilani...” Jinki mumbles. Jonghyun doesn’t have time to recall what god or goddess Jinki invoked before he lifts his chin to look at Taemin directly. “What can I do to help your Inquisition, then?”

“Help...?” Taemin’s eyes widen. “You’d want to join?”

“Yes. If helping you hurts the shems that killed my clan, I will help.”

“Well — we don’t turn away any able warriors...” Taemin glances at Jonghyun for help, but he has none to give. “But are you sure you want to do this? It’s not likely you’ll get to deal with any of the humans responsible for what happened to your clan.”

“Helping you hurts them, doesn’t it?” Jinki says. “And that’s what I want.”

Taemin stares at him, then looks to Jonghyun for something, obviously lost for what to say to Jinki’s sudden determination.

Jonghyun has no help for him — he’s just as shocked.

Jinki crosses his arms and looks down at Taemin. “Do you not want me to join?”

“Of course not — Maker, I know you’re stubborn, and I’m not going to argue with you about it.” Taemin stops, holding back his thoughts for a moment, then continues. “But it’s a bit impulsive. You come here to see me, and now you’re going to join some organization you likely know nothing about—”

“You’re in it, aren’t you? Surely you think good of it.”

“Fine.” Taemin huffs and slumps against the nearest wall. “Speak with the quartermaster first, she’ll find you a place to sleep and an assignment. I can tell you’re in a mood, so I’ll just wait until you’re done and all this has sunk in for us to catch up—” he waves towards the door, but catches Jinki’s eyes with a sympathetic smile before he can turn. “Just know I’m here if you need anything. And I’m sorry for what happened.”

Jinki nods, lips tight, and leaves the room.

Jonghyun watches him leave with a tug in his chest, then smiles apologetically at Taemin. “Sorry, I should—”

“We’ll catch up later.” Taemin assures him with a pat of his shoulder. “Follow him and make sure Jinki doesn’t do anything stupid., if you don’t mind? You’ve seen how he gets when something sets him off.”

Jonghyun dashes out after Jinki, thoughts racing.

Though he hadn’t expected seeing Taemin to fix everything, he’d imagined a happier reunion for the two friends. But Jinki’s relief at finding Taemin alive had been snatched away, replaced with anger at the fresh knowledge that the country responsible for his slavery was behind the death of his clan. And now he’s going to throw himself into danger for whatever revenge he can get.

He’d wanted Jinki to find a purpose, since he’d seemed so listless, but he hadn’t imagined it being this.

On their way to Taemin’s room, he hadn’t noticed the view of the expansive fortress yards from the open windows in the hallway, or the decades of wear in the stone walls, but he doesn’t have time to wonder at them as he runs.

At the last doorway, he finally catches up. Jinki halts when he hears his approach, and Jonghyun skids to a stop beside him, boots slipping in the melted snow on the stone until he balances himself on his staff.

“Jinki, wait,” Jonghyun pants. His stomach churns, and the empty ache in his chest is from more than worry at Jinki’s safety.

Jinki had made the decision to join the Inquisition without even looking to him for an opinion.

He swallows that bitterness down. “Would you want me to join with you?”

Jinki turns to him, expression softer than Jonghyun’s seen in days. “You don’t need to.”

“I know.” Jonghyun runs a finger along one of the gouges in his staff, suddenly embarrassed. “But mages from everywhere are here now, too. It would make sense for me to join.”

“That’s true.”

“I mean, it’s not just that....” He reaches for Jinki’s hand and hooks their fingers together. “I meant what I said, when we first started traveling.”

A flush blooms at the high curve of Jinki’s markings. He stares at Jonghyun, lost for what to say, then clears his throat. “We should, uh, find lodging as Taemin suggested. Before dark.”

Jonghyun nods, and together, they step back into the courtyard of the fortress. He only realizes then that Taemin hadn’t given them directions to the quartermaster, forcing him to look around until he finds someone not wrapped up in their work for directions. By the time they’ve figured out where to head in the vast fortress, several humans and a few elves have gathered on the closest battlement, and Jonghyun can tell from the direction of their fingers that they’re pointing to Jinki’s markings.

He’s not sure if Jinki’s noticed, but he hurries them along to the building before anyone bolder can approach them directly.

The quartermaster’s office is already dark when they arrive, and a straight-nosed woman with the chastising stare of a Chantry priestess eyes them narrowly as they enter. “As many odd characters as I get in here, I can’t say I’ve ever seen any Dalish come through.” Her Ferelden accent is thick and drawling, and there’s a visible pause as she takes in the markings on Jinki’s face. “What might you be looking for?”

Jonghyun answers for them, if only to get her attention off Jinki. “A place to stay, if possible.”

“Hm.” She crosses her arms. “Do you plan on joining the Inquisition?”

Jonghyun watches as she picks up a leather notebook with recruits engraved on the front and opens it.

He’d worked so hard to avoid the war between the mages and templars, and now he’s volunteering for an organization that likely sees just as much fighting.

He swallows. “Yes. We both would like to. I’m Jonghyun, and this is Jinki.”

“Well, I take from the staff at your back that you're a mage.” She tilts her head towards Jonghyun, who nods, then at Jinki with a lifted brow. “And your Dalish friend’s skills are...?”

“I was a hunter for my clan,” Jinki says. “I can use a bow as well as daggers. I’m also a skilled carpenter.”

“Hm.” She raises a brow, seeming to size him up, then jots down his name. “We’ll put you with the other recruits. You’ll start with our training captain tomorrow. Meet him out in the east yards at dawn, and you can stay in the soldiers’ barracks for the night. If the captain decides you’re not a good enough fighter, they’ll put you with the workers.” She flips to a different page marked with the symbol for magic and adds Jonghyun’s name. “The mage can stay in the tower.”

“Does he have to stay there?” Jinki asks, and Jonghyun blinks in surprise. “Or is there a way we can have a room together?”

“Together?” She echoes, eyes wide. She looks between them, putting the pieces together — not many circumstances would allow for a human and an elf to become close friends, let alone partners — and Jonghyun feels his cheeks warm from the inspecting stare.

“Well, that’s...” She stops to clear her throat. That’s a request I can’t fulfill. Guest rooms are for visiting nobility only, so I’d recommend you just go where I told you. But if you’re set on sharing a room, you’re welcome to explore the place — this place is damned big if you haven’t already noticed, and it looks like you already have a bedroll. You might find something for you two.”

After a quick exchange of thanks, Jinki and Jonghyun leave the office behind to search the fortress for somewhere to sleep through the night. Out in the open, there are too many wandering troops and servants for them to set up their tent. They quickly narrow their search to the crannies of the fortress, and the something the quartermaster had suggested turns out to be a small room placed high over the storage barn.

The chill of the mountain is worse than it had been in the courtyard, and Jonghyun thinks with the slightest bit of envy of the heating runes the newly-constructed mage tower must have had built into it already. It at least gives Jinki an excuse to press against him through the whole night, instead of the embrace-and-retreat dance he had been doing since their travels began.

Every breeze that sneaks in makes him shiver. There’s a hole in one of the walls, on his side, and a few dozen in the thatched roof. He manages to pry Jinki off of him long enough to do something about it only when he explains he’s going to cover the source of the draft.

After a moment of searching blindly across the stone floor, he finds the canvas they’d used for their tent and fixes it over the small hole. Satisfied with his work, he crawls back to the bedroll and lifts the top to slip inside, only to jolt at the sudden touch of something on his arm.

He looks down, squinting through the dark until he can discern Jinki’s hand on his wrist.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “For staying.”

Jonghyun smiles. He pulls his hand away only to lace his fingers with Jinki’s when he joins him fully under the covers. “It’s what I wanted to do. You don’t need to thank me.”

#jongyu #da au #long fic #i love these two soooo much ;-; and i'm p proud of this one #my babies are going thru so much #pls enjoy!!! ^^

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