Chapter Text
I joined the Inquisition because it's the right thing to do!
Once, I had a father who would have known that.
He was leaving a meeting ...
Once, I had a son who trusted me.
A trust that I betrayed.
He has proposed you as his successor to the Magisterium ...
I just wanted to speak to him to hear his voice again.
To ask him to forgive me.
He is in critical condition and in a coma.
Don't leave it like that Dorian.
You will never forgive yourself.
He won’t pass the night.
Being in a hospital didn't bring the best memories to his mind, especially when his amatus was an expert in ending up there, but this time… this time it was different. Past and present swirled in his mind as he walked the length of the long corridor, the smell of alcohol, medicine, and disinfectant mixing with a scent the necromancer recognized all too well. Death.
The mail had arrived in the morning with news that had left Dorian frozen in place. His father had been the victim of an assassination attempt. Living in Qarinus and being a member of the Magisterium, these kinds of situations were "common", so to speak. Usually they were just a show of force or "a friendly conversation" to "discuss opinions" on a certain topic. And if there was a murder, it usually happened to someone else. But this time… it had been someone close to him… or someone who had once been close to him.
Dorian stopped in front of one of the doors in the white corridor. His hand felt the cold doorknob burn as he opened it. The rhythmic sound of the respirator and the EKG filled the silence of the room. The person sitting in a chair at the side of the bed in the center of the room got up when they entered. The woman looked like she had seen a ghost, but that expression only lasted for a few moments, her eyes immediately turned serious and her expression cold.
"Dorian, you came back."
"Mother."
Dorian looked up at the bed in the room- more specifically, at the man who lay motionless on it- and swallowed hard. Halward Pavus was connected to a myriad of machines that were undoubtedly the only thing that kept him "alive." His mother's mail had been very clear about the situation; his father would not see the next sunrise. Poison. That was what the message said, lethal and precise, the damage had been done too great for the antidote to have any effect. The machines only delayed the inevitable. Halward Pavus would die in that bed.
Lady Aquinea walked over to Dorian and rubbed his arm. They had never been very close, and although his mother hated his father, no person could live that long with another and not feel, even if it is- only pity for the death of his partner. Taking a step toward the door, her eyes now stopped on the figure behind Dorian. Sighing, she continued towards the exit.
“I will leave you alone. You are… in good company."
Dorian turned at the sound of the door closing and his eyes met those of the giant behind him. Even for a Qunari, Ashken was huge, about the size of the Iron Bull, but less gruff, with soft features and blue eyes that soothed his mind. Ashken had remained silent, knowing this moment was for Dorian… and his father. Nodding, Dorian took a seat where his mother had been moments before, breathing deeply.
"Hello… Father."
The sound of the machines filled the room. It was overwhelming. Dorian knew that his father couldn't hear him, but he had many things to say. Taking his cell phone, he opened the email his mother had sent him that morning. This one had an attachment, a scanned letter. He hadn't opened it, he knew what it contained, but he just hadn't had the stomach to see it, until now.
“You knew this would happen, right? That is why you sent me to Val Royeaux." He clenched his phone until his knuckles turned white. “Is this how we will have our last warm family reunion? Me talking and you in silence, not even listening?" The constant beep was his only answer.
"This is how it has always been, right?" he opened the image of the letter, and began to read in a low voice.
Dorian, if you're reading this it's because they made it. I'm dead. But that means I did it too. You have been chosen as my successor. You will take my seat in the Magisterium.
"What are you trying to prove with all this?" a feeling was beginning to lodge in the center of the magician. He had spent the ten hours’ drive back in silence, not sure what he was feeling. But now the sentiment was clear: anger. The desire to scream was great, but Dorian controlled himself, but when he managed to speak again, his voice was filled with hatred.
“Wasn’t I an abomination? I will never give an heir to House Pavus, not one that bears my blood." His tone began to rise, when at that, a hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing him gently, causing Dorian to sigh and inhale deeply. "You taught me to hate blood magic, yet you turned to it when I couldn't be what you wanted me to be." He looked at the image again. "And now you want me to be your successor?"
"Keep reading, kadan."
"This is a waste of time, Ashken."
"Dorian. The time that you had is already gone. Don't let it stay this way. You need it." Ashken's deep voice calmed her anger a bit, giving her the strength to continue reading.
You are probably wondering why I made my decision, and why I would think that you would accept such a proposal.
"Effectively." Ashken's hand gently squeezed her shoulder. Dorian sighed. "But let's see what you have to say about it."
I… regret many things, Dorian. And what I regret the most is that it took me so long to recognize that you... that my son had more value than his father. All the things I did and did not do were because I saw my duty as a cage, one from which you came out, through a door that I did not even know was open.
Dorian fell silent after reading those lines. My son. How long had since his father addressed him that way? How betrayed he had felt when he… turned his back on him for not following in his steps. And now it turns out that you were envious of me?
"You could get out of that cage all this time, but you never bothered to try, to follow what your conscience dictated." Dorian knew it. His father at some point was aware, Halward Pavus was a decent man, once, in a very distant past.
I chose you as my successor because I know that you love your country. And because I know you will do a better job than I ever did.
Halward Pavus was not wrong about this, Dorian loved his country. When he joined the Inquisition, saving his country was the only thing on his mind. However, do a better job than him? His father was a man whom he admired. Dorian thought that if there was a person capable of initiating the change of his country, that was his father. And now he was giving that burden, no, that duty, to him.
You will have time to think about what I write to you. When you realize that you are neither as powerful nor as wise as you thought. When you realize that your child will achieve greater things than you ever imagined, not because of everything you gave and taught ... but in spite of it.
The words he read had more and more difficulty leaving his lips, his voice fighting the lump that had begun to form in her throat. Halward Pavus sounded different and familiar at the same time, as if the man he admired had never left. That's impossible ... right? Could it be that his father ... really appreciated him? That he really considered him his son?
I did what I thought was best. When I thought of changing you, I thought of ridding you of the pain I saw behind you, but instead I just made the pain even worse. I must have had your courage, Dorian.
Courage. Was that really what got him out of Tevinter? Was it that, or was it anger against his father? Or perhaps simply not accepting what fate was offering him?
"I didn’t want. Among all people, I could not accept that you didn’t accept me. Too much pride, you used to say, that makes us alike, doesn't it? But no, we are not that alike." His voice shaked with the lasts words. He was so used to mask his emotions, but saying this out loud generated a mixture of feelings within him. Pride, relief ... and for some reason, sadness.
Do better than me, Dorian. Repent of few things in life, and ... forgive your fool father ... if you can. Be the Magistrate that I should have been and that others learn to fear you ... with whoever you have by your side.
Halward Pavus.
Dorian closed his eyes as he felt them get wet. He inhaled deeply, trying to swallow the lump in his throat without success. The slight pressure exerted by Ashken's hand on his shoulder helped ease the tension he was building. With whoever you have by your side. A tear released from his eyes. Repent of few things... He opened his eyes, and let out what he had to say.
“Before you go, there are so many things I'd like to talk to you about. Probably neither of us would have wanted to have that conversation...” He inhaled deeply.
"But we don't have time for that anymore." His chest ached from the enormous pressure on it, practically closing his throat. But he knew he had to continue, he had already started this, now he had to give it a conclusion.
“For what you wanted to do, I traveled south. I joined the Inquisition. I helped stop the chaos that reigned there, and prevented it from polluting more of Thedas. I helped clear the name of our country, and…” Dorian placed his hand on top of the qunari's on his back, squeezing it gently. "I found love."
"We found love, kadan." Ashken repeated, kissing the hand that was on top of his. Dorian smiled slightly and looked back at his father, his smile fading completely. He released his boyfriend's hand and placed it on top of her father's, hesitating inches before touching him, but taking it in the end.
“If you believed that, with that letter, everything would be fine, you were wrong once again. But I'm not here to tell you your rights or your wrongs." Frowning, he squeezed his father's hand. "Because I am not your son, and you are not my father."
"Dorian-"
"We are just two grown men saying goodbye." The lump in his throat prevented him from speaking with the firmness he wanted, but it didn't matter. Ashken was silent, rubbing his shoulders in understanding. Taking a breath, he continued.
“There is no need to forgive or forget. I know your mistakes, and you know mine. And don't worry, while you're sleeping, I'll take care of everything, so…” his voice cracked, the words burning in his throat. Dorian had never been good with goodbyes, he hated them. But this would be the last, and perhaps the first time that a farewell to Halward Pavus weighed so heavily on him. Ashken had not left his side, rubbing his back gently, reminding him that he was not alone, and that he could continue when he was ready.
“So rest. I know you don't feel my hand on yours, but-” he swallowed, “-but if you do feel it… I want you to know that I won't leave, until you do.”
"So don't be afraid." He rubbed the back of his hand. "I will do what I must do to protect Tevinter."
Dorian could swear that the hand he was holding clenched, for a fraction of a second. But everything was left incognito when the machines began to sound an emergency whine. The shrill, constant tone confirmed his knowledge that the man's body had finally decided to stop fighting.
The doctor and a nurse arrived instantly, however, neither tried anything. Within seconds, the machines showed null vital signs. Halward Pavus had passed away.
A handkerchief appeared in Dorian's field of vision, delivered by Ashken. Dorian blinked, feeling tears trickle down his cheeks. They were not the first. When he took the handkerchief, he discovered the small drops on his shirt and pants. There was no way he could have lost his composure so easily. But then blue eyes met his.
They were in the hall. When or how they got there, he wasn't sure. But what he was sure of was that he had arms around him, and that he didn't have to maintain his composure with him holding him, he was his safe place. Probably the only good thing her Halward Pavus had brought into his life, even if it wasn't his intention.
When he was finally able to catch his breath and hold Ashken's hand instead of desperately grasping it, he reentered the room. His mother was there, staring at the body of her late husband with a blank stare. Positioning himself in front of the bed, he spoke in a tone clearer than ever.
“Rest well… father. I will take care of chasing the monsters out of our country."