#little ficlet with Inquisitor hadiden and companion maxwell

[hadiden-lavellan]

Can't stop won't stop here's another one @sakurabunnie

Everyone left Hadiden alone. The elf knew why, knew that he had made everyone avoid him. Bull had tried to come over once, join him for drinks, but Hadiden had glared, growled, and bluntly said no. One of the few words that Hadiden had been willing to say. Let. Varric tried to sit with him, figure out what was running around in his brain, but Hadiden hadn't allowed it. He literally took Varric's drink, drank it, and went to finish his own. The dwarf was stunned by Hadiden's actions that he got up without a word and hadn't spoken to the elf. Hadiden didn't care. Not really. He hadn't cared since he had retold Josephine what had happened when he, Maxwell, Varric, Cassandra, Hawke, and Stroud fell into the Fade.

Josephine had asked Hadiden to sit down, to explain everything that happened. And he did. He told her about the Spirit of the Divine, reclaiming his memories, Cassandra nearly taking his head off when she found out about his magic (which he then called a meeting for the inner circle), the Nightmare Demon, and leaving Stroud behind. He retold every detail he could, describing his fears, the fear of his companions, and the gut wrenching decision he had to make in leaving Stroud. After that, after the meeting and coming clean about his magic, Hadiden couldn't really remember.

He was on his... eighth...? No ninth.. wait, his tenth drink. The mug was almost empty. He was going to need another. Maybe he'd try a stronger dwarven ale. Or one of those Tevinter wines. The wines were piss weak and wouldn't have any sort of affect unless he had about six. The ales usually take three or four before he was seeing double. It was when he started forgetting which drink he was on that meant he was drinking right. He wanted to forget, needed to forget. What he had seen in the Fade was too much, too much for abnormal person to understand. But having witnessed the amount of demons he had, all his fears coming to life, having the exact reaction he expected from Cassandra and nearly dying, he needed to forget. He needed to forget the look of Stroud's face as he and Samuel had run past, run to jump out of the Fade while the Fear demon's pet killed Stroud. Needed to forget the look of distrust that Cassandra gave as Desire protected him against the Seeker's sword. He had to forget the memories he was forced to reclaim, knowing now that he was not a real hero or prophet. He was fraud, a fake, a Dalish trying to play a human's part. He wanted to forget.

The barkeep didn't say anything as Hadiden ordered another drink. What happened to his last? Was it really empty. Creators, it was almost like the drink was leaking out the bottom. What drink was he on? One.. two... three, four... fi..si..... seven... eigh, nin, ten, eleven... twelfth.. thirteen? No. No this new one made fourteen. Hadiden groaned as he took a drink. Qunari ale. The kind that Bull had him drink after they defeated their first dragon. And the dragon after that. And after that. And Creators was it strong. Hadiden couldn't help the coughing fit he had as the liquid went down his throat. It hurt but it hurt in a good way. It'd make him forget.

"Maker, how many have you had, Love?" A voice asked. The elf didn't turn, just slumped against the bar and shrugged. Count them, Hadiden thought. That's how many.

Strong, warm hands were suddenly around Hadiden's wrist, making him release the drink. He didn't fight back, not really caring to. He didn't fight as the person lifted him off his stool and threw his arm over his shoulder. Hadiden tried to grip to the fabric but just slouched against his carrier. His legs hardly worked right, and he was more or less dragged out of the tavern. He'd be there tomorrow night.

The cold air of Skyhold hit Hadiden like a boulder. He wanted to go back into the tavern, sit by the fire, curl up, and sleep. But no. The human dragging him thought otherwise. Creators damn him.

"Lord Trevelyan, is the Inquisitor all right?"

Oh. It was Maxwell. That's why he called him Love. Who was talking to his human?

"He's had one too many drinks. Could you run to his chambers and draw a bath? Preferably a hot one. It'll take me a minute or two to get him up there to sober up."

Hadiden didn't want to sober up.

"Right away, Lord Trevelyan."

"Come on, Hadiden. You have to use your legs," Maxwell said, trying to walk to the main Skyhold building. In full honesty, Hadiden tried. He didn't do well, but he tried. It's when they reached the stairs that Hadiden stopped. Luckily for Maxwell, a certain Tevinter came hustling down the stairs to lend a hand. Both humans managed to get Hadiden up the stairs (he wasn't very heavy, just very drunk) and up to his chambers. When he was placed on the small sofa, Dorian wished the two a goodnight and specifically Maxwell a good luck.

Maxwell wasted no time as he stripped Hadiden down. His room wasn't horribly cold, but colder when his clothes were off. He was going to protest, honestly, but just gave up. It'd come out all Elvish anyways. He let himself be lead to a basin and gently dropped into it, allowing the warm water to consume his form. Hadiden's eyes began to close, feeling tired and content. Why had he been drinking again? Who even made the bath? Why wasn't Maxwell in with him? Maxwell liked to join him in the bath.

"There's no sense into trying to talk to you right now. You're still very drunk. I hope in the morning we can talk, even though I know your head is going to hurt," Maxwell said with a sigh. Hadiden let his head tilt back to look at his human. He was frowning. Why was he so sad? Maybe he got a letter from his parents like Dorian did. Maxwell didn't like his parents at all. Hadiden didn't like them either.

But he said nothing. Time quietly passed on as Maxwell helped clean Hadiden up. He rubbed soap into his dirty hair and scrubbed his shoulders clean. Hadiden didn't protest, didn't argue at all. He let it happen and allowed Maxwell to clean him. When Maxwell felt he was clean, the human lifted Hadiden out of the basin and dried him with a clean clothe and then dressed up. Hadiden felt a bit of joy when he was offered one of Maxwell's night shirts. It was too big and cozy as could be. He didn't argue as he was lead into bed and instructed to sleep. Sleep meant forgetting because sleep brought Hadiden to the next day, which meant more drinking.

The sunlight hurt. It made the pounding in Hadiden's head worse. He tried to cover his face with his blanket and realized it wouldn't work. The sunlight wasn't making his head hurt. The drinks. Too many drinks. Slowly, ever so carefully, Hadiden sat up. If anyone could see him, they'd surely laugh. His shirt was hanging off one of his shoulders, exposing the skin to the brisk cold. His hair was more of a mess than usual, sticking up every which way. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy, and his facial expression looked like one of a mabari. He wasn't happy for the day to have found him.

"No, he's doing better.... asleep.... Yes, Dorian helped carry him up here with me... Reschedule his appointments to tomorrow. I won't be allowing him out much... Yes, thank you Josephine."

Hadiden heard the voice and knew Maxwell was at the door. He watched the staircase and waited for the brown locks to appear. It took a moment, but slowly, Maxwell came walking up. He looked startled to see Hadiden awake, but he offered a smile and walked to the bed, sitting down in front of Hadiden. The smile he wore looked hurt, as if he was reading a sad book.

"Finally up, I see. How'd you sleep?" Hadiden shrugged. Maxwell's smile fell. "Not talking still? Hadiden, I know something is bothering you. We've been over this, you can tell me anything. Like what happened to your cla-"

"Don't," Hadiden said. His voice was hoarse and strained. Maxwell perked up at his voice, hearing him speak.

"Then what's the matter?" Maxwell asked, reaching out to place his hand on top of Hadiden's. The elf didn't move away.

"I'm not the Herald. It's all been a lie." Hadiden stopped a minute. Word vomit. It was all going to come spilling out now. "I'm not the Herald, I'm not the Inquisitor, I am barely myself. I'm a fraud, a lie, a killer. Everything everyone believed, about Andraste choosing me, being sent by the Divine to fix everything, challenging Corypheus. It was all a lie and I played a part in it all. Had I not been at the Conclave, Stroud, the Divine, my clan, so many innocent mages and Templars, would not have died. There's so much blood on my hands all because everyone forced me into a role meant for a human. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be taking this title, trying to command armies. I... I don't even deserve you, Maxwell. Everything I am is now a lie. I don't even know what to do anymore and I just want to forget it all happened."

Hadiden hanged his head, trying to relieve some of the pounding and to keep his emotions in check. His head hurt as if his whole room was covered in red lyrium. Maybe all those drinks weren't the best decision he made. They hadn't gotten rid of the memories, only hurt him in the morning. He'd do it again, though. He'd take as many drinks he needed to forget.

But Maxwell was frowning and gently squeezing Hadiden's hand; reassuring, comforting. "You can't believe all that, can you?" Maxwell asked. Hadiden nodded.

"Hadiden, have you seen all you've done since taking the position as Inquisitor, as being the Herald? You put a halt to the Mage Rebellion, helped get rid of a Tevinter Magister in Redcliffe, saved all those mages from being made Tranquil. You closed the Breach, brought the crumbling Empire of Orlais into a peaceful state, if possible. How many lives were saved by ending their civil war and bringing those three together to rule? And what about Crestwood? You brought justice to those that died for a disease they couldn't cure. You rescued all those scouts in the Fallow Mire. You helped the people of the Emprise de Lion, stopping the Red Templar slavery. And what about the Dalish in the Exaulted Plains? You helped them. And in the Emerald Graves you helped Fairbanks. Adamant wasn't fun, but you found out what was corrupting the Wardens and put an end to it, putting a hole in Corypheus's plans. And we still have so much to do. You've done so much good and helped so many people."

Maxwell paused. Hadiden figured he hoped Hadiden would look up, to acknowledge he was right. Hadiden didn't know if Maxwell was right or not. But Maxwell continued.

"As for us? I don't understand why you believe you don't deserve me. You're a kind hearted man, brave and strong, definitely easy on the eyes," Maxwell jokes. Hadiden huffed a quiet laugh. "You've helped the people that have needed it most and did the right thing by what you believe. You're helpful and charming, beautiful and the most amazing man I've ever met. Do not degrade yourself and believe you don't deserve me. I'm a mage that was kicked out of his family, and you gave me a family."

Hadiden's bottom lip quivered as he listened to Maxwell. What Maxwell was saying had to be right, and it hit Hadiden hard. His heart wanted to believe him, wanted to believe every word. But his brain wouldn't allow it. But Hadiden ignored it. He ignored his protesting brain as he moved to sit in Maxwell's lap, hugging him. He buried his face into the human's shoulder and himself to be comforted by the man. Maxwell wrapped his arms around the elf, holding him close.

He continued to assure Hadiden that everything was going to be okay, but the elf stopped listening. He focused on the rise and fall of Maxwell's chest, his breathing, the heat he was radiating. His words were true, Hadiden knew deep down. He trusted Maxwell not to lie just to boost his confidence. For now, Hadiden just wanted to find his comfort in Maxwell instead of the multiple ale mugs he had been using.

He was going to be okay.