Chapter Text
Solas was irritated. Dorian had left a pile of books on his desk instead of returning them to their meticulously organized shelves in the library. He couldn’t understand it. He spent all his time in the library and would have to leave it just to dump the tall stack of dusty volumes in his workspace. It must be to piss me off, he thought to himself. Well it works.
Solas finished his climb of the first set of stairs on the rotunda, approaching Dorian’s favourite alcove. He was standing there, leaning against the window and eyes fixed on the snowy peaks nestled outside the gates of Skyhold.
“How many times have I told you –”
“Solas please not today,” Dorian snapped. The sight of him alone was enough to shut Solas up, but the harshness of his tone made Solas step back. Dorian’s normally well-kept hair was in shambles and there were tiny black wisps littered on the windowsill. He no doubt had be running his hands through his hair so much that it had started to be pulled out. His eyes were red and puffy while his cheeks glistened with freshly fallen tears. All Solas could think was he looks broken.
“What’s wrong?” Solas asked, voice just above a whisper. Dorian lamely gestured to the crinkled letter on the table in front of Solas before turning back to the window. Solas picked it up slowly and read it silently. One line in particular stood out among the others. Solas guessed that those same words were burnt into Dorian’s mind. We regret to inform you of the death of Felix Alexius…
Solas returned the letter to the table before standing up straight and clasping his hands behind his back. “I am sorry,” was all he could say.
“I can’t believe it.” Dorian replied softly. “We always knew it was coming, his death was inevitable but… he still looked like himself when I say him last in Minrathous.” As he said this he fully turned his body before sitting heavily in his chair. He leaned forward, balanced his elbows on his knees and making direct eye contact with the letter, as if he could make the truth vanish if he stared hard enough.
“At least you got a chance to see him as himself in the end.”
“It doesn’t matter” Dorian replied not breaking eye contact with the parchment. His top teeth flashed slightly as he began to chew on his bottom lip. He wasn’t crying anymore but his cheeks were still damp and grief stricken.
“Of course it matters,” Solas countered and began to take a small step forward but stopped when Dorian eyes snapped up to meet his.
“No it doesn’t” he said. There was anger building in his voice. “Because even though I did get the chance to see him one last time I’m still sitting here wishing for another. And do you know what would happen if I got another day?” The question was rhetorical, Solas knew, so he remained silent and maintained eye contact. “I’d wish for another, and another, and another all adding up to the fact that I wish he was still here. He deserves to be here more than I do.” His voiced had faded back down to a solemn tone as he said the last sentence. “The world needs more good people like him.”
Dorian was silent for a long time, eyes returning to the letter, before he whispered, “He was my best friend.”
Solas opened his mouth to say something but Dorian interrupted him.
“Just go. Please.” Solas nodded slightly before turning and slowly walked down the stairs.