Asher could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks even as he desperately sought to reign in his emotions.

"Of course, if you do plan on joining me next time a bath would do you well." Dorian wrinkled his nose as a breeze carried the smell of Asher's leathers in his direction. "You're not still in the same clothes you were wearing in the Mire are you?"

The flush in Asher's cheeks quickly darkened into the deep red of embarrassment. "There was the Mire, and then I got dragged into the meeting, and then we had to rush off to the Hinterlands, and well I guess I just needed some sleep and I didn't really pay attention to what I was wearing and I'll go change now." The words poured out of Asher's mouth quickly, as the elf hurried to explain his state to the mage.

Dorian chuckled at the babbling Inquisitor. It was a far cry from the calm and collected leader everyone was accustomed to.

"I only tease." Dorian intervened because the Inquisitor was already halfway across the room. "Well you really should take a bath, that smell is rank. But what are you doing back already anyway? We didn't expect you back for at least another day."

Asher hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to break the news to Dorian. The letter from Magister Halward was still in his pack, probably crumpled up by now.

During this time however, Dorian was slowly piecing things together.

"You didn't sleep did you? You rode through the night to get there without rest fought a horde of demons and then you came right back without stopping to rest?! And then you let me puke all over you and take your bed?"

The elf glanced over at Dorian, a sheepish grin on his face. He took the time to marvel that even after he'd become the Inquisitor and been expected to steer the fate of the world from the brink of destruction, the disheveled Tevinter mage before him could still make him feel like a child caught stealing sweets.

"I'll take that as a yes." Dorian shook his head, frustration mounting. "You barely sleep as it is! When are you going to start making your own health a concern?"

"I'm managing fine. I'm the Inquisitor. It is expected of me."

"You're still just a man."

"I'm an elf, Dorian" Asher replied, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. It was fascinating to watch the sheer range of emotions that Dorian's face was depicting.

"Don't play coy with me, Inquisitor. Unless you barbarians have some sort of midnight dancing ritual that rejuvenates you without the need for sleep, you're just as susceptible to fatigue as the rest of us!"

This last statement was punctuated with a groan as Dorian gripped his head. His voice had been slowly escalating in volume throughout the conversation and his brain decided to take the opportunity to remind him that he was still in the midst of a hangover.

"Blasted elf, making me yell in the morning."

"Hang in there for a moment, I'll heat up some tea." Asher chuckled, as he walked over to heat a kettle of water in the fireplace.

"I'm so glad my pain amuses you." Dorian grumbled. "Why do you have a kettle in your room anyway? You have servants for that you know."

Asher shrugged. "It doesn't taste the same when they make it. Besides I like being able to have a little independence. Going from a Dalish hunter to Inquisitor is quite the role reversal. Can't say I'm used to being waited on."

Dorian raised his eyebrows at this casual admittance. Asher rarely made reference to his life before the Inquisition, or his unease with his sudden change in lifestyle.

"You don't talk about it much you know. Your life, before all of this."

"What's to tell? Lots of hunting and traipsing through the wilderness. Nothing like Tevinter I imagine."

"Oh I'm sure there's a tale somewhere there worth telling."

Asher smirked, handing Dorian a steaming mug of tea. "Here, I added some herbs that should help with the headache."

The mage brought the cup to his lips, pleasantly surprised at the aroma wafting out of the cup. A small sip confirmed that the taste was also exquisite.

"This tastes quite good, but don't think it's enough to distract me from my original line of questioning. You've seen me make a complete and utter fool of myself last night, the least you can do is provide me with interesting tidbits of knowledge about our esteemed Inquisitor."

The elf chuckled, "Very well, but only if you tell me what got you in such a state last night. You normally stop short of drinking enough to puke your guts out. Not to mention you weren't even trying to go for the quality stuff. Never thought I'd see the day when Dorian Pavus would be drinking tavern swill."

Dorian sighed and Asher could swear he saw a flash of pain in the man's eyes before it was gone.

"I received word from Tevinter. Felix is dead. The blight finally caught up with him." He looked up at Asher. "Not before making a grand speech about you before the Magisterium of course. Felix always was as good as his word."

The sudden news hit Asher like a punch in the gut.

Felix is dead?!

The information left him reeling, off-balance in a way that had nothing to do with his continuous lack of sleep. Felix had been good. With his own life hanging in the balance the man had stood up to his only family in order to do what was right.

Which is more than I was ever able to do.

The elf glanced over at Dorian worriedly. He hadn't even known Felix for that long but to the Tevinter mage Felix was so much more than just a good man. As far as he could recall in all their conversations, Felix was the only one that Dorian had ever referred to as a friend. Small wonder Asher had found him drinking himself into a stupor.

He looked back up at the Dorian, not quite sure what to say.

"Are you alright?"

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Asher wished he could take them back. He knew better than most the stupidity of such a question. How could anyone be alright? Knowing the pain that Dorian was going through made the question feel almost insincere as it rolled off his lips.

"He was ill, and thus on borrowed time anyhow." The mage replied with forced indifference.

"That doesn't mean you can't regret his death."

"I know." Dorian abandoned his forced light-heartedness at this. A sad smile slowly made its way onto his features. "Felix used to sneak me treats from the kitchens when I was working late in his father's study. 'Don't get into trouble on my behalf', I'd tell him. 'I like trouble,' he'd say."

He paused for a moment, collecting himself. "Tevinter could use more mages like him, those who put the good of others above themselves."

Asher could visibly see the pride Dorian felt for the other man. "Were the two of you…?" He let the question dangle in the air for a moment, immediately regretting having said anything.

Of all the inappropriate times to ask something like that.

Thankfully Dorian seemed to take it in stride, not offended but most definitely surprised. "Felix and I? What an odd question. No I had no intention of abusing Alexius's hospitality by seducing his son. Not that I've been proper my whole life, by any means….It wasn't like that. Even in illness, Felix was the best of us. With him around, you knew things could be better."

The more he talked about Felix, the more Asher could see Dorian's feelings slipping through the cracks. The man obviously cared a lot for Felix but he was doing his best to act dismissive about the entire affair. The Inquisitor couldn't help but wonder why Dorian felt the need to compartmentalize his emotions like that.

It wasn't often that a person could form as close a friendship as Dorian and Felix had with each other. In fact many people went through their entire lives without doing so. It would be natural, hell even expected, for the man to break down, and no one would judge him any less for it. But here was Dorian, and he was clearly not comfortable being open with his feelings. It was almost painful to watch.

"You make it sound like he was a better person than you."

The corner of Dorian's mouth quirked up into a small smile. "What a mad thing to say. Few people are better than I."

Asher said nothing in response, simply fixating the man with a look. Eventually Dorian sighed, unable to meet the elf's gaze.

"Very well." And then just because he couldn't bear to give in completely, he added "A better person clearly, not nearly as handsome."

They fell into silence for a short time. Dorian, looking thoughtfully at the elf. He could see the exhaustion that lined the Inquisitor's body, from his slumped shoulders, to the bags under his eyes, and the worry lines creasing his face that weren't there mere months ago. Yet in spite of bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, the elf's back was as straight as ever and the sharpness in his gaze had not dulled. The world could have done much worse than championing this backwater Dalish elf as its savior. Indeed Dorian shuddered to think what might have happened if someone else had received the mark at the conclave. Someone without Asher's good nature, or determination, or his tendency for survival in spite of the odds. The inquisition could have become something very different, or perhaps it would have been destroyed in Haven and nothing would have come from it at all.

He lifted his eyes to meet Asher's worried gaze. A rush of compassion for the small elf welled up in his chest and caught in his throat. In spite of everything else he had to deal with, Lavellan still found the energy to worry about someone like him.

He smiled at the rogue, and this time it was a full smile, reaching all the way to his eyes.

"Thankfully Felix wasn't the only decent sort kicking around Thedas."

The flush was returning to Asher's cheeks as Dorian directed that gentle smile at him. It was getting harder to break the news about the letter from Magister Halward. He was loathe to ruin the moment, to disturb the small measure of peace that Dorian seemed to have found.

Yet, this was the whole reason he had returned from the Hinterlands so quickly, and every moment he chose to put it off was another moment that the man in Redcliffe might not wait, was another moment that Dorian might be angry with him for not telling him sooner.

The mage in question seemed to notice Asher's unease, and the gentle smile that had adorned his face soon shifted into one of inquiry.

"Is something the matter Lavellan?"

Asher swallowed nervously before moving over to his pack, and slowly pulling out the crumpled letter.

"I'm afraid I have some news that you might not want to hear. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I didn't get a chance to before I was rushed out again. "

Dorian's confusion now turned to trepidation as he reached for the letter that the elf was holding out to him. That Lavellan seemed almost afraid to meet his gaze did nothing to help the feeling.

His stomach plummeted as he looked down at the parchment and saw that familiar scrawl that used to fill him with so much pride. Now it was all Dorian could do to keep the bile from rising in his throat as he began to read the letter from the man he had hoped never to hear from again.

"I know my son." Dorian could barely conceal the rage he was feeling as he read the words written in the letter. He held onto the feeling desperately. Better rage than any of the other emotions that might come seeping through.

"What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical. I'm willing to bet this retainer is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter."

The bitterness in his voice was clear and Asher found himself trying to reassure the man.

"That would be hard to do while I stood there."

Dorian didn't seem to hear him, already in the middle of another rant.

"He expects me to travel with Mother Giselle, although Maker knows why he'd think I would." Then looking up at Lavellan, he smiled cynically. "If it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You're good at that."

Asher internally grimaced at the words. He had certainly become familiar with killing other people since he'd joined the inquisition but his proficiency in the matter was not something he held any pride in. The fact that others saw him as something of an expert made him more ashamed then he could say. This wasn't what he had meant to become.

But this conversation wasn't about him, and Dorian did not need to deal with his trivialities, so Asher simply smiled and nodded while the man continued.

"If it's not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his 'wit's end'."

Dorian paused, seemingly having finished for the moment. Hesitantly, Asher decided to take advantage of the silence to ask for clarification on the matter, hoping against hope that he wasn't prying too far into the man's personal business.

"There seems to be bad blood between you and your family."

Dorian's most immediate response was laughter. The cold broken laugh of a man forced to find humor in the darkest of thoughts and it chilled the elf to hear.

"Interesting turn of phrase." The mage responded as his laughter came to a stop. "But you're correct. They don't care for my choices, nor I for theirs."

"Because you wouldn't get married? Because you left?"

"That too." Dorian answered bitterly. He'd been happy. He'd been happy. Here with the inquisition, making a difference, doing the right thing. He'd even found himself among friends for quite possibly the first time in his life. And now his father, as if the man still deserved the title, was in the picture again, stirring up memories and emotions that Dorian had finally managed to set aside.

"I think you should meet with this retainer…find out what your family wants."

"I didn't ask what you thought, did I?" Dorian could hear the scathing note in his own voice. He saw Asher visibly flinch, and that more than anything stemmed the tide of the internal rage that had been building, simmering underneath the surface ever since he'd opened that letter. He could see the regret in the elf's eyes, the hesitation, wondering if he had gone too far. The realization that he'd gotten too comfortable with Dorian and forgotten that there were lines he should not cross.

Dorian hated it. He opened his mouth, immediately trying to repair the damage. To apologize to this man who was only trying to help, who had only ever tried to help, regardless of the price he personally had to pay. No Asher wasn't the one he was angry with, wasn't the one he should be lashing out at.

"That…that was unworthy. I apologize."

Asher nodded, accepting the apology. But there was a wariness in his expression that told Dorian the elf would not easily be so forthright with his opinion again. Cursing himself, Dorian spoke up again, trying to show Lavellan the sincerity of his apology.

"There'd be no harm in hearing what this man of my father's has to say. If I don't like it, however, I want to leave."

"Fair enough. That works for me." The smile on Asher's face made it all worth it. Made it feel like confronting his father might not be the worst thing in the world.

"I wonder how much my father paid this man to wait around just in case I showed. We'll find out soon enough I suppose."

"I'll let the stable boy know to ready the horses." Asher was already moving as he talked, gathering his pack together and replenishing potions that had been depleted in his last outing.

"Wait…we're leaving now?!" Dorian was still mentally playing catch up to everything that had occurred since he'd woken up mere minutes ago.

"Well I'm assuming you're going to want some time to freshen up before we head out? I could certainly use a thorough rinse and a change of clothes. But as there is currently no one barging into my room demanding my attention I'm inclined to think that now is the only chance we will get."

Dorian swallowed. Everything was happening much too quickly, but perhaps it was best to get things over with. Looking over at Lavellan, he nodded his agreement.

"Then I'll meet you at the gates in thirty minutes." Asher grinned. "Hopefully by then you'll be able to see my skin through this grime."

The mage quickly brushed his disheveled hair to the side with his hand, trying to get it to some sort of manageable shape before departing Asher's quarters through the servant's entrance. It was still early and not many people in Skyhold would be up, but it was always better to be safe. The last thing he wanted was for people to start having assumptions about who the Inquisitor was sharing his bed with. The southerners may not hold the same beliefs about same sex relationships but that did not mean they would be accepting of a Tevinter magister corrupting their precious Herald.

Yes I know it's been way too long since the last update and you guys are going to hate me but I definitely won't make you wait as long for the next chapter. Let me know what you think!