Chapter Text
The Herald woke up that day, exhausted in every single way possible; Haven was buried under the avalanche, the world was literally falling apart. He had to walk through a heavy blizzard for hours and hours, and was thankfully found by his fellow… followers? Supporters? Allies? He didn’t exactly know. Nothing felt right and he just felt drained. On top of everything, Wen had been waiting for a letter from his sister for weeks now, but it was yet to arrive. And even if it did, Haven was gone now. He would never ever get to read it. Feeling hopeless and a bit empty he got up, dressed himself somewhat presentable and walked out of his tent only to feel the crisp air slap him across the face.
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath and tried to cover his face as best as possible from the biting cold but failed miserably as the snow-covered mountain weather was striking him right inside his bones. “I guess this is my life now.”
He sat on a little makeshift bench made out of a log in front of a roaring campfire. Everyone who had managed to escape the event had been camping in this valley at the end of a mountain path for a couple days now after Corypheus’ sickening attack on their main base, which most had been calling their home at that point. Maybe it was home to him in a sense as well but, it was all gone, just like that. Wen couldn’t do anything other than fire the trebuchet to cause the heaps of snow to mercilessly fall on the abominable demigod demon, whatever he was, and his hordes of soldiers, in hopes of crushing them maybe, or just buying time to at least flee somewhere a little safer… But he felt bad - he thought he could’ve done something better; he could’ve saved everyone like he was supposed to. His head was pounding when a familiar voice interrupted his deep thoughts.
"Hello, your Worship.”
He was surprised to see the Tevinter mage standing in front of him, smiling slightly as he kindly looked down at him.
“Oh, hey,” Wen said, as if suddenly awake. “I didn’t see you approach.”
“I’m told I can be a little sneaky, it’s not just you who does all the hiding, yes?” Dorian said lightly, teasing to lighten the mood.
Wen was just looking at Dorian with his mouth slightly open when he realised that he didn’t invite the man to join him and he was just standing there, clearly expecting to be told to sit down. He snapped out of his haze and gestured the mage to sit down in front of him, but Dorian decided it was a better choice sit down right next to him.
Wen felt a little tingly inside and he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He and Dorian had met around a month ago when Wen found himself in the Redcliffe Chantry whilst he was after Alexius who turned out to be Dorian’s ex-mentor. It was no lie that the mage was breath-taking, he had to admit; the second he first saw him he felt like his whole world had turned upside down… in a positive way. Wen didn’t understand what exactly it was that he felt at the sight of the exceptionally handsome Tevinter man, but he didn’t want to stop feeling that way.
They had gone on a few missions together, firstly stopping Alexius from basically ruining their future, and a couple others where the Herald needed a talented mage with him. They hadn’t talked or interacted much other than share some short banter and catch a few stares here and there once in a while. It was all enough for Wen to feel butterflies in his stomach and that feeling made him want to shove his butterfly blades in there instead; he was a grown man, almost twenty four years old, and he now was the world’s saviour after all, how could he feel like a boy just at the peak of his puberty? He was killing people, and demons, and stitching up holes in the sky, closing rifts to the blighted Fade for his job - and he was feeling butterflies over a mage from Tevinter? Wen felt weird.
“Deep in thought, I see.” Dorian turned to say, breaking the short silence with his velvety voice Wen oh-so wanted to keep listening to.
“I… I’m just exhausted is all…” Wen said, trying to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks from thinking about Dorian like that.
“Care for a walk? I found a bottle of Rowan’s Rose in one of the supply tents and it just looked lonely,” Dorian said, completely oblivious, or pretending to be oblivious, to the way Wen was blushing in front of him. “Maybe you can accompany it with me.”
Wen nodded, a little surprised, but got up and followed Dorian. They sat down across each other in front of another campfire the Inquisition officers had thankfully set up during this awful freezing weather. Dorian pulled up the vintage bottle of wine from behind a bush next to them where he had clearly hidden it earlier, so no one was able to perform a theft act, as if it wasn’t exactly as he did.
“We will have to share it though,” Dorian started as he pulled the cork out of the bottle with a tiny bit of magic coming out of his fingertips, which really fascinated.
Wen secretly. “I don’t seem to recall seeing any mugs around here. Or at least, any clean ones.”
“I’d love nothing more than to taste your lips along with that wine.” Wen mumbled under his breath quickly and quietly as Dorian took his first gulp straight from the bottle. He simultaneously hoped that Dorian did hear it and he did not. It seemed like he did the latter.
“Ah, that’s good,” Dorian said, completely oblivious again. “It’s hard to find good wine here in the South.”
“I will find you whatever wine you would like, just say the word.” Wen joked but also did not. He would in fact get Dorian whatever wine he would like, or just anything really.
“My Lord Herald, getting ahead of ourselves, are we? If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to seduce me.” With extra emphasis on the last words, Dorian joked back like he always did no matter what the essence of the subject was.
“Mayb-“ Wen was about to say as a voice yelled, coming from someone running towards them.
“Herald! Your Worship!”
Wen stood up, confused. “What is it?” He asked as the boy approached.
“My Lord, you have a letter! It’s from Her Worship Queen Haru.” The boy said excitedly.
“Hold on a second…” Wen said again slowly taking the letter from him, “How did this arrive here? We’re miles away from Haven and no one knows we’re out here.”
"My Lord, the carrier boy had arrived at Haven right before Corypheus struck and he couldn’t deliver it to you personally. We found him safe with his deliveries just this afternoon, Your Worship.” The boy simply explained, bowed and left the way he came running.
“Even during a crisis such as this, you’re quite popular, hm?” Dorian said teasingly again as if there was nothing that he couldn’t make better, whilst he approached Wen to look over his shoulder.
“It seems so, yes,” Wen said absentmindedly as he turned the paper around. He knew the feeling and the sweet smell of that wax seal so very well.
Wen had finally gotten the letter he was expecting for weeks from his sister. He sat back down in front of the beautiful warmth of the campfire, completely forgetting for a second Dorian was there at all, but well, he was only excited to hear from his sister.
He opened the envelope, took the paper out properly and started reading the letter written in the girly yet elegant handwriting that he missed seeing.
“Hello, Wen,
I’m not doing very well right now. I will keep it short and sum it up.
He killed him. He killed Alistair. Corypheus has been going after everyone he could,
and he got to my husband too. Ferelden is ruined right now, but I don’t have the words to explain how ruined I am.
I can’t do it alone; I’m coming to stay with you for however long I can. It hurts to even r emember what happened. I will hopefully be there when the spring starts.
I miss you.
Your sister, Haru.”
Wen had gone pale after reading this short, devastating, hopeful, exciting, upsetting letter. It was all over the place with the emotions it sparked inside Wen’s heart; with awful guilt over King Alistair’s death because what Corypheus really wanted was him, yet he was going after his loved and close ones just to get to him, and with happiness because his sister was coming to visit him after years and years of being apart.
“I…” He began but stopped to take the bottle from Dorian’s hand and took a huge sip.
Dorian looked very surprised, “What did you even read there to drink this ridiculously strong wine like that?”
“The King is dead,” Wen said sounding out of breath from the long gulp, “and my sister is coming here.”