Dorian sighed as he saw the light in Gael's chamber snuff out, plunging the small arched window into darkness. Getting up from the bench, strategically placed within view of the Inquisitor's chambers, Dorian brushed the dust off his leathers before trudging back to his own bed, the room cold and dark. Sending a small tendril of flame into the fireplace, the logs quickly catching alight, Dorian began to unstrap his complex chest piece. 

Slinging his clothes across an armchair by the fire, Dorian poured himself a goblet of sweet wine, swirling the contents briefly before giving it a deep sniff. The pungent aroma filled his nostrils, and Dorian found himself momentarily at ease. The effects of the drink did not last long, however, as Dorian found himself sitting at the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

Dorian was no fool, but he was a coward. Adamant had made him face things that he hadn't wanted to face, that he wasn't ready to face. When Gael hadn't come out after him, the white-haired elf not emerging from that twisted abyss, Dorian had felt something he had never felt before, the feeling still thundering inside him. Dread, fear, desperation - it was a chorus of screams that Dorian couldn't drown out, no matter how many bottles he drained or how hard he tried to run away from it. Somehow, Gael always managed to catch up to him and remind him of everything that he could lose.

Everything he could not bear to lose.

Dorian felt the wine he had just downed begin to rise up his throat, searing its way up his oesophagus. Behind his tightly shut eyelids, the terrible events at Adamant continued to plague him. The thought of never seeing Gael's tiny, beautiful, miraculous frame again sent Dorian into a downward spiral, and for a moment he had felt like he had already lost everything. It wasn't until Gael's body, beaten and worn, had tumbled out of the rift in a heap of green and red that he realised how much he cradled in his hands, and how much could just as easily slip through his fingers.

Dorian's newly admitted reliance on the elf scared him, and the only thing he could do to alleviate his fears was to push the Inquisitor away, even if it hurt them both in the process. Dorian had long accepted that romantic relationships would never end well, and the trend wouldn't change even if he were to pursue something with the Inquisitor. If it were doomed from the start, then it was better to step away before it could consume him.

Dorian felt his resolve tremble as Gael's hurt face clouded his vision, the mage groaning as he began to pour himself another cup of wine, pausing before taking a swig directly from the large bottle, the goblet forgotten. Nursing the bottle to his chest, Dorian climbed onto his bed, leaning his head against the frame as he willed himself to forget, forget, forget.

"Get yourself together, Pavus," Dorian chided himself, the sweet drink suddenly bitter on his tongue as he took another hefty sip, praying that the alcohol will hit him soon.

~~~

Dorian rubbed his chin in contemplation as his eyes raked over the books and tomes in the library, trying to find something that could disclose the true identity of Corypheus, or at least offer a glimmer of hope in the dismal reality they all lived in. Dorian was so engrossed in the poorly organised shelves that he didn't notice Gael's light steps stop behind him, the young man clearing his throat cautiously. Dorian bristled, wanting to turn to the elf and drink in his appearance, but kept his eyes trained on the novels before him, their titles blurring. Swallowing to calm his nerves, Dorian spoke before Gael could, wanting to cut off the elf's dulcet voice before it could wreak havoc in his head.

"You have remarkably little here on early Tevinter history," Dorian said, voice dripping with fake calmness, Gael shifting uncomfortably at the impersonal tone. Gael opened his mouth to say something, but Dorian's own moved like wildfire, his eyes never leaving the shelves as his fingers brushed past the spines of dusty books. 

"If I knew what you were looking for, I could help you," Gael offered, giving Dorian a small, pained smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Dorian grimaced as he remembered the time they spent scouring every nook and cranny in the library on the search for rare tomes and spell books, and Gael's ecstatic face when he found a long-lost volume on wards was as clear as a freshly painted portrait. Dorian wanted to slap himself as his mouth continued to spit out harsh words, Gael growing paler with every sound he uttered.

"Because you're a mage? Considering education standards in the South, that's hardly a recommendation," Dorian said, his voice biting. He immediately regretted his words when the elf visibly flinched, his face falling as his painted smile turned into a hard set frown, one that he had been wearing a lot lately. Dorian thought that the Inquisitor looked good in a great deal of things, but the one thing he never suited was a frown. Especially not one caused by the Tevinter himself. Sighing, Dorian clenched his fist as he averted his eyes from the Inquisitor once again. 

"I apologise," Dorian choked out, Gael's head snapping towards him, surprised. "That was unworthy."

I'm unworthy.

Dorian felt a mixture of relief and failure swirl inside of him as he saw the glimmer of hope that blossomed in Gael's eyes, the man standing up a little straighter as he brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. Embarrassed, Dorian rolled his shoulder as he tried to relax his stance, which had become rigid in his discomfort.

"Did I see something by Genetivi here? I could have sworn..." Dorian started, using his words as an excuse to turn away from the elf, who had taken a step towards him, hand outstretched. Dorian let out a held breath as he saw Gael's hand dropping from the corner of his eye, the Inquisitor stopping his advancement. 

"What is this about, Dorian?" Gael asked carefully. Dorian didn't answer, his mouth pressed into a hard line as the hand resting on one of the shelves tightened, his knuckles blanching. The gesture did not go unnoticed to Gael, who stepped forward slowly, looking at Dorian's back to gauge his reaction. When Dorian didn't move, Gael took another step forward, until he could pinch the hem of Dorian's sleeve. The little tug Gael gave made Dorian almost, almost fall to the ground, the little touch unlocking the flood that Dorian had tried to dam inside of him.

"When we fell into the chasm, into the Fade... I thought you were done for," Dorian admitted, his cheeks heating as his voice cracked on the final words, which were far too raw and real for Dorian's palate. Dorian heard Gael's breathing catch as he took in the Tevinter's words, the grip he had on Dorian's sleeve tightening. 

"I don't know if I can forgive you for that moment," Dorian continued, gripping the shelf tighter to stop his shaking. 

"Forgive me?" Gael asked, his voice incredulous, his pitch rising. Dorian bit back a yelp as Gael's strong hand gripped his wrist, pulling him around to face him. Dorian winced as his back hit the bookshelf, the novels rattling with the force of Gael's hand forcing his chest backwards. Dorian looked down at the small mage, whose eyes were alight with the well-formed frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface over the past week. "Forgive me? What do you need to forgive me for, Dorian?! Fenedhis, this is ridiculous. You were right there with me the entire time! So enlighten me, Dorian. Tell me what I did that begs for your forgiveness or I swear-"

"For making me think you were dead!" Dorian yelled, his voice echoing throughout the library. Dorian's sudden outburst made Gael blink as some mages in the corner jumped, startled. Dorian took Gael's momentarily shocked stasis to push his hand off his throbbing chest, stepping around him. Sending withering glares to onlookers who tried to be discreet about their snooping, Dorian stepped towards another set of bookshelves, wringing his hands. 

"Dorian, I-"

"You sent me ahead, and then didn't follow," Dorian said, his voice softer and much, much heavier. His usually jovial, mellow voice trembled in a way that Gael had never heard before, and it made him ache. Turning back to Gael, who was still locked into place in shock, Dorian gave him a forlorn look. "For just a moment, I was certain you wouldn't. I thought..." Dorian let out a dry laugh, running his hand through his hair as Gael took a step towards him. "I thought... this is it. This is where I finally lose him forever."

The library was eerily silent as the two men stood there, the only sound being their shaky breaths as Dorian's feelings were laid to bare in the thick between them. As if he was being pulled forwards, Gael took two long strides over to Dorian, taking his hand in his and pressing it against his own chest. Dorian frowned as he tried to loose his hand from Gael's, the elf not giving in one inch despite his smaller hand, forcing Dorian to feel his heart beating beneath his palm. 

"I'm right here, Dorian," Gael spoke, the warmth of his hand bleeding into Dorian's. The steady thump of Gael's heart collided with Dorian's hand, drilling into him the very essence of his existence, one that Dorian had tried to desperately to snuff out. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Everyone says that," Dorian replied bleakly, giving Gael a watery smile as the elf shook his head, light hairs brushing his shoulder as he moved.

"Fortunately, I'm not everyone," Gael said, a tiny smirk gracing his lips as he peered up at Dorian, the Tevinter letting out a laugh despite himself. 

"Well, you're certainly not as tall as everyone, that is for certain," Dorian said, his words regaining their usual lightness, Gael grinning despite the weak jab.

"Now that's the Dorian I know," Gael said, finally letting Dorian's hand drop from his chest. "I won't punish you for that line today, but we'll see how the winds blow tomorrow."

"I'll be waiting for it, Inquisitor," Dorian said, moustache quirking as Gael raised a challenging brow, the spring in his step returning as he walked out of the library.

I'll be waiting for the day you break my heart.

A/N: Honestly, this part of the game always made me so weak for Dorian. This, and that little line in Trespasser where he's so sure that the Inquisitor will break his heart always hit my right in the feels and it seriously hurts. My heart genuinely feels like it's being squeezed, I am not joking. He's just so vulnerable and soft and I just want to hug him and make it all better. Even though I can't hug the guy, at least I can get Gael to do it on my behalf. 

Thanks for reading! :)