Chapter Text
Dorian looked up at the chair across from him. The Inquisitor had curled up and fallen asleep. The permanent furrow in his brow had relaxed, making him look softer, sweeter.
His vallaslin was distorted where his face was pressed to his knee. His spine curved sharply and his arms were tucked into his chest.
Dorian set his book down and got up, pulling the soft throw blanket off the back of his chair and draping it over Altan. Altan startled awake at the touch.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Dorian whispered, stroking his hair. “It’s alright.”
Altan sniffled and settled back down, pillowing his head on the armrest. He blinked up at Dorian once before he returned to sleep.
Dorian whispered to him for a moment longer until he heard a door downstairs. He went to the railing and leaned over. It was Josephine.
“Solas, have you seen the Inquisitor? He’s needed in the war room.”
Solas responded with a quiet “Not recently.”
Dorian returned to Altan’s side, brushing his fingertips over Altan’s shoulder. “Inquisitor?”
Altan groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up. “Yes?” His hand covered Dorian’s, keeping it on his shoulder.
“Josephine is looking for you downstairs.”
Altan smiled tiredly. “Thank you. I’ll go see what she needs.” He stood up, placing the blanket in the empty chair. He kissed the corner of Dorian’s mouth. “Bye.”
It was almost an hour before Altan returned, and he looked even more weary than before.
“I’m going to Adamant with Hawke.”
Dorian stood up. “When?”
“Now.”
“When will you return?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to be alright? You don’t have to leave now.”
Altan brought a hand up to rest gently on Dorian’s shoulder. “While that may be technically true, it’s better for everyone if I do everything I can right now.”
Dorian took Altan’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“I will.”