#so that Kieran could still fight to protect himself without exposing himself as a mage

[andrastesflamingknickers]

Just a draft of a scene I've had stuck in my head all day about Warden Elio Tabris and Kieran if they were at Weisshaupt during the siege. Anyone else find it hard to reconcile with the fact that Kieran's a grown 20-year-old by the time of The Veilguard?

“Help Holden and the others get the Eluvian back and running,” Elio murmured, tugging at the strap of his pauldron, tightening it over and over. He could hear Rook and his group talking, figuring out who would do what while Rook played decoy and the Crow took a shot at a God. But he couldn’t make out their words over the rush of blood in his ears.

Kieran nodded, eyes narrowed in a look of familiar determination and conviction, the look he’d get whenever he was given a new, difficult--semingly impossible--task, a task he always succeeded in at the end. “Of course, father. We’ll need to get the wounded and non-combatants out of Weisshaupt immediately, the Eluvian will be the fastest choice.”

If they could get the Eluvian at all. Fell out of a building, Rook had said. Elio wanted to laugh at it, because of course, it had. It was just their luck, after all, that things would be difficult, that things would continue to get worse.

He shook those thoughts out of his head immediately. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by how daunting everything was, how unfair everything was right now. Instead, he tore his gaze back onto Kieran, and felt a lump in his throat. “I want you to escape through it,” he said slowly. “The moment they have it working, go through it and no matter what, don’t come back here.”

The way that Kieran’s eyebrows rose, his eyes widening in shocked confusion, Elio had expected it. But the betrayed look that flashed across his expression still tore at his heart. “Father I-- What are you talking about?”

“I want you to leave. Leave Weisshaupt. The Wardens,” Me, went unsaid.

The boys eyes narrowed once more-- this time with a flash of familiar anger and frustration. “I can fight! I’m a better mage than Bethany and Anders combined, better than any other mage here!” he argued, digging his feet into the ground.

“I know you are,” Elio agreed softly.

“I know the Darkspawn better than the Wardens!” Kieran continued, his shoulders pushed back and his teeth bared in anger, an expression he had learned from Elio. “I know the Fade better than the Wardens, I know the Evanuris better than the Wardens. I know Archdemons better than them, damn it, Father, I have a--”

“I know!” Elio snapped, cutting him off with a wave of fury of his own. The brief look of fear on Kieran’s face was all he needed to calm back down with a heavy, low breath. “I know Kieran. But we don’t know what will happen if Ghilan’nain sees you. If she recognizes the soul you have.”

He stared at his boy-- his boy who wasn’t a boy anymore. Who was twenty years old now, had mastered the magic his mother had taught him, had mastered the sword that Elio had taught him. Who stood a head and a half taller than Elio. Whose face had long since lost it’s babyfat and roundness, and was now sharp jawed and narrow, and a stubble growing in and has had plenty of girls fluttering their eyelashes at him.

But he was still his boy, no matter how much he grew. Even now, Elio looked at him and could still only see that baby boy bundled up in soft fabrics and wispy hair, a beautiful baby boy who had Elio crying when he first held him.

He took another shuddering breath as he gripped Kieran by the shoulders. “I can’t risk losing you,” he said in a soft hush.

Immediately, the rage in Kieran’s eyes died down, his expression softer, pleading. “You say that as if I could do the same to you,” he muttered. “You’re a cruel man, father.”

Elio smiled softly, before shaking his head. “Go through the Eluvian. Once in the fade, find your mother and stay with her.”

For a long moment, Kieran didn’t respond. Elio watched the conflict and torment play out in his expressions, how he so clearly wanted to argue and fight his father on this, insist that he stay and help, stay and fight. But ultimately, his shoulders drooped and he hung his head low. “Yes, Father…”

Without missing a beat, Elio pulled him into a hug.

The metal of their breastplates clashed awkwardly against each other, and the spikes on Kieran’s pauldron dug painfully into Elio’s cheek, but he didn’t care as he held his son as tightly as he could. Holding him like this, Kieran didn’t have to see the tears in his eyes.

“You’ll have Bethany and Anders with you,” Kieran murmured, as he wrapped his arms around Elio in response. “You’re a reckless fool when fighting, always diving headfirst into a fight, drawing all the opponents onto yourself, it’s a miracle you’ve survived this long at all. But, but they’ll be there to keep you from being overwhelmed. Oghren and Nathaniel are here somewhere, too.”

“And all the other Wardens here.”

“And all the other Wardens here,” Kieran agreed, fingers slipping past the gaps in his arm to tug at his clothes as if he did not want to ever let go. “So you’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

It was clear he was trying to reassure himself.

“I’ll be fine,” Elio agreed, reluctantly pulling back and letting go of Kieran so that he could remove his glove. His son watched, eyes wide, as Elio pulled the old, rune-covered ring off his finger, a ring Kieran knew he rarely ever removed.

With a soft, tired smile, he reached out to take Kieran’s hand and pressed the ring into his palm. “Take it.”

Kieran’s was motionless, Elio had to force his hand to close around the ring. “Father, I can’t, this is--”

“Take it,” Elio urged, still soft, barely more than a whisper. “The fade is a big place, Kieran. Keep this so that your mother can better find you.”