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It was just a small harmless cough at first and it started during his visit to Emprise du Lion. After spending what seemed like eternity trying to claim back the quarry from Red Templars and fighting Ishmael to take back Suledin’s Keep, the cold environment finally got its toll on the Inquisitor. Aeros had an embarrassing runny nose when he inspected the broken Judicael’s Crossing and discussed its renovation with Baron Edouard Desjardins. People around him, soldiers or nobles diplomat alike, gazed at him with sympathy every time he sneezed or coughed. They were polite enough not to mention his reddened big nose with snot constantly threatening to come out from his nostril.
“Don’t come near me.”
Aeros managed a small amused smile when he saw Dorian shrinking away from him. The Tevinter mage was sitting alone by the campfire near the Inquisitor’s Inner circle’s tents with a thick blanket draped over his shoulder. He looked miserable. Aeros knew cold environment and Dorian didn’t work well together. Evening air in Emprise du Lions might be too much for the mage to handle. He gave Aeros his best murdering glare when the Inquisitor took a step forward towards him.
“I said, don’t come near me! Did you get frostbite and lose your ears?” Dorian snapped. “Is it possible to lose your ears from frostbites?” the mage mumbled to himself.
“I just want to check up on you and hope you’re not mad at me,” Aeros said. His lips tugged into an amused little smile.
“Mad? No! Of course I’m not mad at you. I’m furious!” Dorian grumbled. “We’re going to a freezing mountain that is cold enough the entire river has turned into solid ice. You know what? Let’s take Dorian! I know how smitten you are with me, Inquisitor, but can you at least for once, just once, leave me alone in the library instead of taking me to this Maker’s forsaken place?”
Aeros felt bad for finding some sort of amusement in Dorian’s suffering but it was indeed hilarious. Dorian, his beautiful magnificent Dorian who was usually full of confidence and witty charm. He resembled a giant upset cat now. A very big upset cat with murderous glare. A soft chuckle escaped Aeros’ lips when he thought about that.
“Why are you laughing? Are you laughing at me?” Dorian asked.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh but-“ A cough cut his words. There was an uncomfortable itch that escalated into a pang of pain in the deep of his throat once he finished coughing.
“Are you okay, amatus?” Dorian asked in soft voice. The anger in Dorian’s eyes was changed into a concern frown.
“Just a small cough. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Aeros’ voice was hoarse and it only deepened the frown on his lover’s face. “You’re ill. Or in the process of getting ill.” Dorian muttered.
“Nonsense. It’s just a cold. There’s nothing to be worried about.” And to contradict his point, Aeros coughed again.
“Come and join me here, amatus. It’s warm. I’m willing to share this blanket with you. I could send someone to fetch us whiskey.” Dorian gestured to the empty spot next to him.
Dorian’s concern warmed his heart. He entertained himself with the thought of sitting by the fireplace drinking whiskey and sharing a blanket together. He was tempted to do just that. It was a fine peaceful evening here in the Suledin Keep. Most of the soldiers had retreated to their tent to rest except the one with on patrol. Aeros’ other companions, Blackwall and Sera had gone somewhere. The dark sky was clear and littered with twinkling stars.
“Sorry, my heart. I still have things to do.”
It was not a disappointment that adorned Dorian’s face. It was something else. “Are you sure? The blanket is really warm. I enchanted it myself. Do you want hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate? Here?” An amused grin crept its way back to Aeros’ face.
“I’m sure you can terrorize your men into finding you a hot chocolate. It’s the perk of being the Inquisitor, isn’t it?”
Aeros wanted to laugh but all he could muster was a cough. He had to admit his cough had gone worse but it was still manageable. “I’ll take my leave now. Baron Desjardins awaits me in his tent.”
“Wait a moment. What are you doing in his tent?”
“Rest assured, my heart. There’s no need to be jealous. I need to talk about some things regarding what lies on the other side of Judicael’s Crossing,” Aeros said. He meant it as a joke of course. “Besides I’m entirely sure the Baron doesn’t have any interest in bedding men.”
Dorian frowned. “I’m not worried about that. Why can’t it wait till tomorrow morning? You need to rest.”
“I’m not tired.” Aeros cleared his throat when his raw throat made his voice sounded hoarser.
“You are ill,” Dorian argued.
“I’m fine.” Aeros suddenly got a bit annoyed. “We may have taken the hold of Suledin Keep and liberated the quarries from Red Templar but there are still a lot of things to do. We are at war, Dorian. We can’t win this war by sitting in idle and it is my duty as the Inquisitor to be prepared.”
Dorian seemed like he wanted to argue but he held it back. “Fine! Have it your way! More room for me in this campfire. Don’t come to me when you’re cold.”
Aeros watched his love wrapped the blanket around his body with a pout. “I know you mean well, Dorian. Thank you for your concern.”
Dorian didn’t say anything. He was upset.
“I’ll get better soon. You don’t have to worry. See you later, my heart.” And with that Aeros was back on his way to Baron Desjardin’s tent.
What appeared to be a small harmless cold got worse after he spent two more days at the Lions to gather resource and instructed the Inquisition’s soldiers that were left behind to protect the area. He also spent the days scouting the area with Scout Harding to hunt down Red Templars and helped people of Sahrnia. When they Inquisition force was ready to depart and headed back to Skyhold, Aeros’ voice had changed into semi permanent hoarse voice. His throat hurt from all the coughing and it felt there was a lump there preventing him to swallow his food. It was hard to breathe with his runny nose.
“Are you sure you can ride?”
Aeros shot Dorian his best glare. The altus mage was saddled up on his horse and looking down at the Inquisitor struggling to get up on his mount. Aeros was tired and for a brief moment he couldn’t summon any energy to hoist himself up.
“Amatus?”
“I’m fine,” Aeros lied. Feeling humiliated, he forced himself and finally managed to get on the saddle but with small price. Aeros felt a dull pain of headache. He massaged his temple to ease the pain.
“Amatus, I know you’re not fine. Your illness has gone worse.” Dorian observed him, his dark eyes raked over Aeros’s figure. “I’ve told you to take some rest and let your men do all your biding. I know this would happen!”
“Don’t fret. It’s just a cold.” Aeros coughed.
A gloved hand came to rest on his back. Dorian then gave him a gentle rub on his back to ease Aeros’ breathing. It took times until Aeros could muster a coherent word. “Thank you.”
“Even the Herald of Andraste is not immune to cold,” Dorian said. “You need to rest, amatus.”
“Are you suggesting we stay another day here so I can take a rest?” Aeros raised an eyebrow.
“No! Of course not!” Dorian denied. “Maker knows the last thing you need is spending more times in this wretched place. Maybe when we reach a warmer region we can go to an inn and sleep there instead in a tent until you get better.”
“We still have a long journey back to Skyhold,” Aeros said. “I won’t take any unnecessary detour. We have information regarding General Samson and I’d like to discuss it as soon as possible with Cullen.” Aeros steered his dracolisk to the awaiting force that was ready to go home.
Dorian followed him. “It’s a matter of your health. Surely it doesn’t count as unnecessary detour.” The altus mage grew a bit impatient.
“If I need rest, I can sleep in a tent.” Aeros sat with his back straight once they approached the Inquisition soldiers near the gate of Suledin Keep. He had to appear formidable in front of his men.
“Surely you will sleep better on an actual bed,” Dorian argued.
“It has to wait until we’re home.”
Dorian let out a frustrating growl that attract nearby passerby except the Inquisitor who were busy talking to Blackwall and Sera who were waiting for them. Aeros could feel Dorian’s glare digging a hole on his back but choose to ignore it.
“Blackwall, talk some sense to him! He’s ill! He needs to rest!” Dorian pleaded.
It was alarming how Dorian turned to Blackwall to help him. Those two weren’t close. Dorian’s request startled the warrior. Blackwall clamped his mouth shut and looked at the mage with questioning look clear on his face. Aeros himself was glaring at Dorian for interrupting Blackwall’s report on the Inquisition soldiers.
“Dorian…” Aeros warned him.
Dorian ignored him. “He’s sick! Can’t you see it?!”
“No shit!” Sera exclaimed loudly. “I can see snot coming down from his big nose. Eww!”
Dorian turned his glare to elven archer. “Sera…”
“What? Inky is sick, yeah? This freezing place makes him sick!” Sera said. “I say we need to move on quickly so he can get better.”
“I agree with her,” Aeros said. His words shocked the companions because he rarely agreed with Sera. Aeros always deemed her method too direct and out of control. But surely he would agree if she said something logical.
“Did I hear it right? He said he agrees with me?” Sera looked dumbfounded and a bit scared. “Is he that sick?”
“Yes, he is that sick,” Dorian agreed.
“This he is right here and can hear you,” Aeros said.
“Blackwall!” Dorian turned back to Blackwall.
The bearded warrior took a deep sigh. “Can you heal him, Dorian? I’ve seen mages use healing spell.” Blackwall pointed out.
“You do know healing magic is not my specialty, right?” Dorian said as if he was offended with Blackwall’s question.
The warrior was silent. It was hard to determine Blackwall’s expression. After a while, he finally said carefully, “It’s clear that you’re ill, Inquisitor. Five days on dracolisk’s back would be bad for you. Maybe you should take the cart instead.”
Something snapped within Aeros. The idea of someone suggesting him to take the cart for wounded soldiers angered him. “Don’t mock me, Blackwall! The cart is reserved for badly wounded soldiers and unable to march with the rest of the soldiers or ride their mounts. I haven’t lost any limbs and I’m capable of riding my mount. Or do you think I’m that weak that I can’t survive the ride? ”
His outburst stunned his companions. It was rare for the polite Inquisitor to lose his temper like that. Aeros blamed it on the headache.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Inquisitor,” Blackwall said.
“Fuck! I don’t like it! Your boyfriend went nut when he’s sick,” Sera mumbled to Dorian. If it wasn’t for Aeros’ keen hearing, he would miss that.
“I can hear you, Sera.” The Inquisitor warned her.
“Amatus, please!” Dorian addressed him with such concern in his face, it made Aeros felt guilty.
“I have enough of this conversation,” Aeros declared. “We leave now. No more talking.”
And so the Inquisition left Emprise du Lion with its Inquisitor riding on the front line. Aeros’ condition was deteriorating and by the last night of their journey, he had runny nose, sore throat, fever, stiff neck, and a very exhausted body. He ordered his men to set out a camp sooner than he usually did and made no effort to help. He went inside his tent and removed his coat and armor quickly before he curled up on his bedroll with layers of fur blankets wrapped around his shivering body.
Aeros was a light sleeper but in this particular time, he was still fast asleep when Dorian came into his tent. He woke up when Dorian’s cool hand touched his forehead. For a brief moment, his mind panicked and grabbed Dorian’s hand as if it was a threat. His body relaxed once again and released the hand when he saw Dorian’s face looming over him. The altus mage was sitting right beside his bedroll.
“You have fever,” Dorian said with a frown.
Aeros didn’t need Dorian to tell him that. “What time is it?” He asked instead.
“It’s passed dinner time,” Dorian answered. “You didn’t show up so I took the liberty to deliver your dinner to your tent.”
There was a tray of steaming stew, a glass of tea, and a vial of an unknown substance just beside Dorian. Aeros tried to sit up and inspect them. The vial was maybe a potion for his cold, he guessed. The stew consisted of potatoes and some meats. The soup was thick with the juice from the meat and other ingredients. It was warm and should taste good but it did nothing to rouse Aeros’ appetite. In fact it only made him wanted to throw the stew away from him. He didn’t want to eat that.
“I’m not hungry,” Aeros said.
“You think you’re not hungry but you still need to eat.” Dorian took the bowl and took the spoon. “You need to eat so you can drink this potion. After that you need to go back to sleep.”
“You’re going to spoon feed me now?” Aeros asked, amused.
“If I have to,” Dorian said.
“An altus mage spoon feeding me?”
The altus mage glowered. “Don’t push your luck.”
Dorian’s concern warmed Aeros’ heart. It was very kind of him to deliver Aeros’ dinner. Aeros didn’t want to eat but he would to honor Dorian’s noble intention. Dorian was right. He needed to eat to fight his illness.
“Give me the bowl. I can eat it myself.”
The stew tasted weird on his tongue and it was hard to swallow it but Aeros forced himself to eat. Dorian watched him while talking to him about many things. His face lightened up every time Aeros managed to swallow his food but soon the light on his eyes disappeared when Aeros shoved the bowl to Dorian. He only managed to swallow a small portion of the stew. The meat was left untouched.
“I’m sorry, I can’t eat anymore,” Aeros said.
“I know it’s not a suitable food for your condition so I won’t force you to finish it.” Dorian sighed. I’ll tell the soldier to prepare something light for you tomorrow. How about some broth?” Dorian passed him the potion.
“Broth is fine. I think,” Aeros mumbled. He took the potion and drank it. The liquid tasted weirder than the stew and it left a burning trail down his throat. Aeros coughed and wished he hadn’t drunk that potion.
“Drink this, amatus.” Dorian passed the tea to Aeros. “It’s an elfroot tea. The healer said it will help you.”
Aeros grimaced when he brought the Elfroot tea to his face. He never liked the taste of elfroot potion and he detested every time he needed to take it to heal his wound faster. He liked tea but he didn’t like elfroot. He didn’t want it. Not at all.
“I don’t want it.”
“It’s not the time to be stubborn,” Dorian argued.
“I’ve had my dinner, I’ve drunk the potion, isn’t it enough? Let me go back to sleep.”
“You are a very stubborn irritating petulant child! Aren’t you supposed to be older than me?” Dorian groaned. He groaned louder when he was met with Aeros’ unrelenting glare. “Alright, you’ve earned it. Go back to sleep.”
Aeros lied back on his bedroll and wrapped himself in the fur blanket. They were near the Frostback Mountain now and it was cold. He was tempted to ask for more blankets but he knew his soldiers needed it. He had used enough blankets.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to stay here,” Aeros said when he spotted Dorian hadn’t moved from his spot.
“I like watching you sleep,” Dorian said. “Haven’t I told you that you look gorgeous when you’re flushed with fever and have liquid coming down your nose?” Dorian smiled.
“Liar.” Aeros smiled back. “Please Dorian. Go back to your tent. I don’t want you to be ill as well, my heart.”
“I appreciate your concern, amatus, but I think it’s me who should be worry about your health.” Dorian touched his forehead and brushed the hair strands away from his face. “At least let me accompany you until you fall asleep.”
Dorian’s touch felt good and it slowly reducing his headache. “Promise me you’ll leave once I fall asleep.”
“I promise,” Dorian said with a smile. There was something mischief in his smile. Aeros knew immediately Dorian wouldn’t keep his promise. “Don’t worry, amatus. If you take your potion and eat and rest, I’m sure you’ll be fine once we arrive at Skyhold.”
Dorian was wrong. Aeros got worse once he arrived at Skyhold’s courtyard.
Aeros dismounted from his dracolisk with great effort, much to his annoyance. Once his feet touched the ground, Aeros felt the world spun in great speed. He shut his eyes, his right hand came to his head while the other one was trying to grab his dracolisk’ saddle in blind attempt to steady himself. He ended up clawing the dragon like mount’s scales. The dracolisk grunted at its rider but made no attempt to kick him or anything else.
“Amatus, are you alright?”
Aeros opened his eyes and through his blurry eyes he saw Dorian coming to his side. The mage’s hand was on his back to soothe him. Once the agonizing pain on his head had decreased into uncomfortable pulsating throbs, Aeros finally noticed that Blackwall and Sera had come to his side as well. His three companions had a matching worried look on their faces.
“Fuck! It got worse, innit?!” Sera looked scared. “I don’t get it. He can’t get sick. He got glowy hand and all!”
“Inquisitor, you need to go to your quarter now,” Blackwall said.
The buzzing noise that came from people at the courtyard became a distant sound as Aeros’ vision started to blur. He felt light headed and he became vaguely aware of what was happening around him. He barely recognized a hand touching his forehead.
“He’s burning!” It was Dorian’s voice.
“Shit! We have to do something!” Sera’s voice was loud and filled with terror.
“I’ll inform Mother Giselle.” Blackwall’s voice.
“Aeros? Please, amatus! Stay with me! Please if you-“
Aeros’ knees wobbled and gave up, sending him falling to the hard ground. Aeros barely felt hands trying to catch him as he lost his consciousness.
Aeros walking through a snow storm during his escape from Haven. He remembered how the freezing cold wind almost knocked him down with its force. The wind was not only cold, it was freezing and blinding his eyes. He could barely see anything. He walked without direction. Lost in the middle of the snow storm, Aeros was sure this would be his end. He was soaked wet from head to toe. His body was shaking violently with every step he took. He couldn’t feel his feet. He was cold, so cold and tired.
He wanted to give up.
“Aeros...”
A voice. A distant voice that sounded like Dorian. He tried to find the voice but he couldn’t find Dorian. Panic washed upon him. Where was he? He needed to find Dorian. He needed to see Dorian.
“Dorian…”
“I’m here. Can you hear me?”
It was so dark in here. Where was Dorian? Maybe Dorian could help him. He was so cold. Dorian could warm him up. He was a talented mage with a penchant for fire spell. His Dorian. His heart. He needed Dorian.
“Dorian please…”
“I’m here, amatus.”
Something warm touched his forehead and brushed the strand of hair away. The touch was a comforting one and it eased Aeros’ panicked mind. Soon the snowstorm faded and he went to a dreamless sleep,
Aeros opened his eyes, feeling groggy and tired. There was an unpleasant throbbing pain plaguing his head and there was a wet cloth on his forehead. Groaning, he forced himself to turn his head to inspect his surroundings. He made out the outline of greenish carpet that adorned the floor, the line of windows showing the clear bright Skyhold sky, a fireplace, and a desk he recognized as his in the corner of the room with books and documents stacked neatly on its surface. He was back at his quarter. No wonder the bed felt familiar.
“Thank the Maker, you’re finally awake!”
Aeros turned his head to the voice and was greeted with Dorian’s smile. The altus mage didn’t look like his usual self. He looked rumpled with his tousled hair and unkempt moustache. He didn’t even bother to apply the kohl around his eyes. It was an unusual sight and it was unnerving. Without the kohl, the exhaustion on Dorian’s eyes became more apparent.
“How are you feeling, amatus?” Dorian asked.
“Tired,” Aeros replied. “You don’t look good as well.”
“Just a bit tired and I blame you for that.” There was no real irritation in Dorian’s voice only affection. Dorian took the wet cloth from Aeros’ forehead and he replaced it with his hand. “You still have a fever.”
“It’s cold,” Aeros said. He wrapped himself with the thin blanket that was used to cover his body.
“You’ll get better soon,” Dorian took a glass of water from the nightstand and gave it to Aeros. “Water, to keep you hydrated. Mother Giselle’s order.”
Aeros propped himself on one elbow so he could drink the water. He winced because the water tasted strange on his tongue. He coughed when the liquid came down through his throat. Dorian’s hand was on his back immediately to sooth him. He helped Aeros to finish his drink then helped the Inquisitor to lie back. The wet cloth was back on Aeros’ forehead once again and it felt blissfully cool on his burning skin.
“You need to eat something,” Dorian said.
The thought of eating something made him cringed. It was difficult to drink water, it would be harder to swallow something solid. Aeros shook his head. “I don’t want to.”
“You have to eat something. I’ll tell the servant to prepare warm soup and tea. Not elfroot tea this time so you better drink it.”
“Only one night.” Dorian sat down on the other side of the bed. “Everybody is scared, you know. From the low ranking soldiers to foreign dignitaries, they all send their prayers.”
It couldn’t be good. He passed out in the middle of the courtyard with his men witnessing the whole thing. Aeros let out a frustrated groan when he realized he must have been carried across the Main Hall in order to get him here. It was unacceptable! What would his guests said about that? The Inquisitor was down because of mere fever?
“Stop thinking too hard.” Dorian poked Aeros’ shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“You have this very specific look when you’re deep in thought.”
“I just…” Aeros shut his eyes for a while then opened it again. “What do people think about me now?”
“Don’t worry about that. Josephine is doing a great damage control. No word about your unfortunate illness would come out from these walls. Varric did a good job spinning a tale to make the whole thing sounds more heroic. Your men won’t look at you with less respect.”
Josephine had done her magic once again. He would send her favorite delicacies to her quarter as a small gesture of gratitude. He would make sure Varric got free drinks in the tavern. It was the least he could do for the dwarf.
Aeros felt the bed shifted when Dorian got up. He looked up and saw his lover leaving. Confused and a bit panicked, Aeros asked, “Where are you going?”
“Getting some food for you.” Dorian took the wet cloth away and placed a chaste kiss to his forehead. He soaked the cloth to a basin and put it back on Aeros’ forehead. “Try to get some sleep while I’m away.”
Aeros didn’t need to be told twice. Sleep came to claim not long after he closed his eyes.
Aeros didn’t know how much time had passed when he woke up. He felt a hand on his shoulder, rousing him from his slumber. He opened his eyes and was greeted by Mother Giselle’s gentle smile. Aeros tried to return the smile but he was still a little groggy.
“How are you feeling, Inquisitor?”
“Not good.” Aeros decided lying was useless. Mother Giselle was a healer after all.
“I see.” She didn’t sound too pleased about it. “I don’t want to interrupt your rest but I need to examine you.”
Aeros nodded his head and let the Revered Mother did her work. Her hand was blissfully cool against his burning skin and it calmed him. She asked him to stick his tongue out so she could see his throat. Her impassive face made it hard for him to determine what she was thinking about.
“Your temperature is still too high but you’re getting better.” She began her assessment. “I’ve made you a potion for your fever. I’ve also made an elfroot tea to cure your sore throat.”
“No.” Aeros’ tone was final. It was the tone he usually used when he wanted to end an argument. No one dared to press further if he used that tone. Except Dorian.
Mother Giselle shook her head. “Your… paramour has informed this to me. I’ll try to find alternative.”
Aeros’ eyes darted around his quarter but he didn’t find the one he was looking for. “Where’s Dorian?”
“I told him to get some rest in his own quarter. It would be regrettable if he becomes ill as well.” Mother Giselle told him, earning a confused look from the Inquisitor.
There was no love lost between Dorian and Mother Giselle. The Revered Mother always avoided talking about Dorian like the altus mage was a walking blasphemy against Andraste and the Maker. Her resentment towards Dorian became worse once Aeros told her about the true nature of their relationship. Just then she spoke of Dorian’s name with newfound respect. It was a surprise. Tired and worn out, Aeros decided to let it go this time.
Mother Giselle took a steaming bowl of soup and offered it to Aeros. “Your food, Your Worship. Do you need my assistance to eat it?”
He knew Mother Giselle meant well but he couldn’t help a spark of irritation inside him when he heard that. He was the Inquisitor, he didn’t need people to spoon feed him but he kept it to himself. He thanked Mother Giselle and took the bowl from Mother Giselle’s hand and began to eat. The soup was bland, tasteless but it was warm. He tried to finish it but he couldn’t force himself to eat it all. Mother Giselle eyed the half eaten soup but she didn’t say anything. She gave the potion and he took it. Maker, it was hard to drink it. It tasted worse than the health potion. He lied back on his bed after that.
“I’ll tell the servant to make tea with honey for your sore throat,” Mother Giselle told him.
No more elfroot tea. Aeros counted it as a small victory.
With belly warm and half full, Aeros felt a bit better and less miserable. He would feel much better without his runny nose but he knew it would take times until he could breathe easily again. He coughed and Mother Giselle’s gentle hand came to urge him to sit down so she could rub his back. By the end of his cough, Aeros was heaving. Mother Giselle gave him a clean handkerchief so he could blow his nose. After a couple of loud snorts, he gave up. He still felt like there was something blocking his airway.
“I have something for you.” Mother Giselle pushed him back to the bed. “Please remove your nightshirt, Your Worship.”
The request stuck him as odd and confusing. Did he just hear it right? “You want me to undress?”
“I believe you still wear your smalls under the nightshirt.” Mother Giselle gave him a small reassuring smile. “You’re a grown man. Don’t be shy.”
True he was still wearing his smalls but he would be nearly naked if he took off his nightshirt. It was a bit embarrassing but Mother Giselle was a healer. Not a mage healer but still a healer. Surely she didn’t have any ulterior motive. So he removed his nightshirt, leaving him exposed to the Revered Mother. Before Aeros could ask, she rubbed something on his chest, some kind of oil. It felt cool then brilliantly warm on his skin. The oil also evaporated a vapor which helped his runny nose. Mother Giselle was very gentle when she applied it and Aeros found his body relaxed.
“Oil for chest rub. Very effective to cure common cold. It will help you breathe more easily. Mother Giselle showed him a bottle of said oil. “I’ll put the vial here, on your nightstand so Master Pavus could find it.” Her voice was lacking the usual bile when she spoke Dorians’ name. “You can put your shirt back.”
Aeros grabbed his nightshirt and put it back on. “Do you still think ill of him, Mother? About Dorian.” Aeros finally asked.
“It is unsettling for you to have a Tevinter mage as a lover, Your Worship. You are the leader of a religious order. People look up on you as a holy man. Master Pavus is from Tevinter. He is also the type of man who let his emotion rules him. He’s reckless and brash.”
Aeros had heard it countless of times. If he wasn’t ill, he would spend the next thirty minutes defending Dorian’s honor but he was too tired to do that. He asked instead, “What changes now?”
Mother Giselle took a deep breath. “You’re asking for him, when you were unconscious. You said his name several times.”
The information was surprising. Startled, Aeros could only blink his eyes. “I did?”
“He came rushing to your side and held your hand for all the time,” Mother Giselle said. “Master Pavus refused to leave not matter who hard I told him to. I’m glad for that. He did a good job nursing you. Watching him taking care of you, I came into realization that his affection for you is genuine. He loves you and you love him back in return. Who am I to stand between two people who are in love?”
Aeros was surprised to hear that, pleasantly surprised. Never before he thought he would hear Mother Giselle something like that. She finally acknowledged their feelings. Aeros didn’t know why he was glad to get Mother Giselle’s approval but he was. He was glad.
“Thank you,” Aeros only managed to say.
Mother Giselle smiled and put a wet cloth on his forehead. “Sleep now, child. I’ll look after you until Master Pavus is here.”
Feeling happy and content with Mother Giselle, Aeros fell asleep with a light heart and an anticipation to tell Dorian about it.
When Aeros woke up again it was dark outside. He could see the night sky and stars from the windows. The pounding in his head had decreased into a more tolerable pain. The wet cloth sat on his forehead to cool down his temperature. His nightshirt was soaked with sweat and it clung to his skin in an uncomfortable way. He was thirsty. His throat felt like a desert in Western Approach, dry and adorned with thorny bush. He also felt tired. Very tired and miserable. He still couldn’t breathe with much ease when there was something blocking his nose. The chest rub oil Mother Giselle gave him had lost its affect.
Aeros turned his head to his left and immediately found Dorian sitting on a chair while reading a book. Aeros granted himself a moment to appreciate his lover. Dorian was lost in concentration. His dark eyes were fixed the words in the book, eyebrows knitted together. He looked much better now. The exhaustion line was gone. He didn’t style his hair but it still looked good. He also didn’t apply the kohl around his eyes and it made him looked different. He looked less pretty, for the lack of better words, but Aeros always found him more appealing. Dorian wore his kohl and stylish attire like a mask to hide his vulnerability. Showing up bare like this was a sign that Dorian trusted him. It actually felt very domestic and Aeros enjoyed a domestic bliss like this.
Aeros didn’t know how long he spent his time staring at Dorian but he was sure it was long enough for Dorian to notice him. Dorian looked up from his book. His dark eyes lit up when he met Aeros’ green one. “It’s about time for you to wake up,” he said while putting his book down on the nightstand.
“What time is it?”
“Close to dinner. I’m going to wake you up in an hour so you can have your dinner.”Dorian took the wet cloth and touched Aeros’ forehead with his hand. “Still burning. Maker’s breath, when the fever will break?!”
“Soon, I hope.” Aeros coughed. Dorian quickly fetched him a glass of water and handed it to him. He drank it, wincing a bit when the cool liquid went down his throat. “Thank you.” He handed the empty glass back to Dorian and lie down again.
“Now that you’re awake, I’ll inform the servant to bring your food.” Dorian got up from the chair.
“Have you had dinner?” Aeros asked.
Dorian shook his head. “No. Why?”
“Tell them to bring yours here too. We’ll dine together.”
An amused grin crept to Dorian’s face. “Dinner in bed? How romantic of you, amatus.”
“I won’t count it as romantic. I’ll spend the time forcing the soup down my throat and hate every minute of it with you ordering me to finish it.”
“You Southerners are not romantic,” Dorian complained.
“Except the Orlesians of course,” Aeros added.
“Orlesians are not romantic. I bet their idea of romantic is having dinner without wearing their mask.” Dorian snorted.
Aeros grinned at the idea. “I think that’s possible.”
“What if I don’t want to have dinner with you?” he asked.
“I won’t eat.”
Dorian shook his head and chuckled. “Still bossy even when you’re ill. You are really a rare piece of gem, amatus.”
“I’ve been told by a certain mage that it’s one of my fine qualities and that’s why he likes me.” Aeros’ lips tugged into a small smile.
Dorian laughed. “That mage must have terrible taste.”
“And horrible sense for fashion.” That earned him a playful smack on his shoulder.
“That’s rude.” Dorian leaned down and brushed his lips on Aeros’ forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
After Dorian was gone, there was nothing for Aeros to do. He could go back to sleep but he didn’t feel like sleeping right now. He closed his eyes, trying to catch more rest but it was useless. He felt really uncomfortable in his sweat soaked nightshirt. He needed to change it. Immediately. So he got up from his bed, or at least he was trying to. Once he was on his feet, he felt his headache doubled. It took time to keep his balance before he could walk towards his armoire. With great effort he changed into fresh smallclothes and nightshirt.
After he changed clothes, Aeros felt much better but he also felt tired. He leaned his forehead to the armoire to take a deep breath. He closed his eyes when his head throbbed painfully from the headache. He looked back to his bed. Why was it so far? Why did he leave his bed? Oh yes, clothes.
Aeros heard his door was opened then closed. The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs made him to turn his head. Dorian came into his view. The altus mage spotted his empty bed. Panic came across his face and he looked around while cursing in Tevene. When he found Aeros by the armoire, the panic was replaced by relief. Relief replaced by irritation in an instant.
“What do you think you’re doing, you stubborn, stubborn man?” Dorian asked while walking towards Aeros. Panic came back when Aeros didn’t answer him. He put his hand on Aeros’ shoulder, eyes filled with worry. “Are you alright?”
No, he wasn’t alright. He felt tired jut by changing his clothes. His head was threatening to split into two. He couldn’t breathe easily. His throat hurt. He was miserable. It was just a cold. Why it had to be like this? What had he done to deserve this?
“I’ve been worse,” Aeros answered. He had been worse of course but he was still feeling utterly miserable. He didn’t want to bother Dorian any further so he settled for half truth.
Dorian took a deep breath and took Aeros’ hand. He helped the Inquisitor back to his bed. Aeros noted that his sheet needed to be changed soon. It was rumpled and soaked with sweat as well. If he was about to spend his days resting here, the sheet must be changed. Aeros let out a cough that hurt his poor throat.
“I hate being ill,” Aeros stated.
Dorian smiled as put the wet cloth back to his forehead. “Of course you would say that. I bet you long to have your hands on reports your advisors force you to read everyday.”
"Among many other things,” Aeros said.”Dorian, I’m wondering. I have many mages at my disposal. I found it odd that there is no spirit healer.”
“You do know spirit healer is rare, yes?” Dorian asked.
“I know…” Aeros sounded defeated. “Is there no one who knows healing magic? I’ve seen mages heal broken bones. Healing fever isn’t that hard, right?”
“Actually,” Dorian said, “there are some mages who know healing magic but Mother Giselle said it will be best for you to heal without using magic.”
Aeros blinked his eyes in surprise. He was surprised and disappointed with the Revered Mother like a son who got angry with his mother. “She has no right to decide that,” Aeros grumbled.
“I know! I told your advisors about that but they seemed enthralled with Mother Giselle’s idea. Cullen, being a good Chantry boy he is, immediately jumped on the wagon. Leliana sided with her too. Our poor Josephine had no choice but to say yes. That traitor. I thought she would back me when I confronted Mother Giselle.”
Aeros wanted to be angry with the Revered Mother but he had no energy left to do that. She just wanted the best for him even thought it was against Aeros’ will. He let out a displeased grunt as he tried to calm himself. He didn’t like it. He wanted to be healthy again as soon as possible.
“Look at the bright side,” Dorian said, “you have an excuse to stay in bed all day without your advisors bothering you.”
“I want to stay in bed all day with you.” He stressed the last words with enough suggestive tone. “Preferably with you on top of me. Or beneath me.”
Dorian laughed. “I’d like to do that as well. In bed with you all day… Imagine all the things I can do to you…”
Imagining the things Dorian could do to him all day sent shiver to his spine. “Sadly, I’m not in a condition to make love.”
“That’s why you need to get better soon,” Dorian said.
The servants came to his quarter to deliver the dinner. They ate and talked about the Inquisition. Aeros was glad to hear there was no commotion happened and there was no angry dignitaries demanding a meeting with him. His companions wanted to pay him a visit, Sera in particular. Dorian told them they could do that once his fever broke.
“Sera is wary. It’s rare to see her like that.” Dorian scooped the last bit of his stew and brought it to his mouth. “I think she likes you.”
“We’ve reached understanding,” Aeros said. Sera was a bit harder to approach. The elf hated noble in general and she detested Aeros whenever he acted nobly and lordly. It surprised him when she asked him to have a little roof time.
“She also said that if you’re not getting better soon, she will shoot you with arrow. Knowing Sera, she wouldn’t be an empty threat.”
Aeros chuckled but ended up with a small cough. “Another reason to get better soon.”
Dorian took Aeros’ half eaten soup and put it out from the quarter along with his dinner. After that Dorian helped him to drink the potion and rub the oil on his chest. He gave Aeros a warm honey tea for his throat and cleansed his mouth from the potion’s bitter taste. After that Aeros lied back on his bed. He felt mildly better now.
“Mother Giselle will come again tomorrow morning. Let’s hope your fever has broken. If it hasn’t, I’ll drag the mages here and demanded them to heal you.”
“I agree with you,” Aeros said.
“See! I’ve told them you’ll agree with me. If only you were awake when I argued with Mother Giselle.”
“She’s not as bad as you think she is.”
Dorian snorted. “She hates me. She thinks I’m a bad influence for you. She looks at me like I’m a walking abomination or a blood mage.”
“I think you’ll be pleased to hear that the Revered Mother hates you less now,” Aeros said. He wouldn’t say she liked Dorian, the loathing was still there. “Apparently you have proven your undying love by staying with me all night long.”
Dorian’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened in surprise. It was rare to see the altus speechless and it brought a small amused smile to Aeros’ face. Dorian blinked his eyes. “Does it mean… she approves of us now…?”
Another thing that was rare was to see Dorian’s vulnerability on display. The mask he wore was torn. There gone the confidence and wit the altus mage favored so much. Dorian looked at him, hopeful, scared. Aeros reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“She does,” Aeros said.
Dorian’s dark eyes glistened and for a moment Aeros thought he would cry. Aeros had no problem with Dorian crying as long as it was a happy tear. Dorian bowed his head and wiped his tears away. When he looked up, he had his usual smirk but it was forced and he still got teary eyes.
“What a silly person she is. Of course I’ll stay and take care of you,” Dorian said. “You’ll do same for me. You will, won’t you?”
“Anything your heart desire, my heart. I love you.”
Dorian smiled at him. It was a smile that melted his heart and made his stomach clenched with adoration. He could feel Dorian’s love for him, a strength that kept him going until now. A force that fueled his dedication. His heart. His love.
“And I you, amatus.”
If Aeros was in a better shape, he would kiss Dorian and maybe proceeded to show him how much he loved the mage. But for now, he had to be pleased with small physical contact they shared. Dorian intertwined their fingers and brought them to his lips. The brush of Dorian’s lips and his facial hair sent pleasant tingling to Aeros’ stomach.
“You should sleep now, amatus.” Dorian let his hand go. “Let’s hope you’ll get better tomorrow. I’m not joking when I said I’ll drag the mages here and risk losing the Revered Mother’s newfound fondness.”
Aeros fell asleep feeling content and loved. He was sure he would get better soon.
It turned out Dorian didn’t need to drag the mage. Aeros’ fever broke in the morning. Mother Giselle was happy when she checked on him. Dorian was elated, he kissed Aeros right on his lips in front of the horrified Revered Mother. Aeros would gladly kiss him back but he was still ill. He didn’t want Dorian to become ill as well. Dorian smirked at Mother Giselle once he was done. She didn’t say anything but she gave Aeros a disappointing look. Aeros felt much like a child about to be scolded by his mother but then he remembered he was the Inquisitor and decided to shrug it off.
Once the news of his recovery was spread throughout Skyhold, Aeros started to have guests. His first guests were Josephine, Leliana, Cullen, and Cassandra. His advisors and the Seeker expressed their worry and wished him a quick recovery. They wanted to talk about work but Dorian’s glare managed to intimidate them. Next one who came to visit was Blackwall and Sera. Those two felt a bit guilty since they were there when Aeros fell ill and passed out. Sera baked him cookies and Aeros had to admit she had made progress. After that came Iron Bull, Varric, and Cole. The Bull and Varric shared funny tales happened in the tavern and Main Hall while Cole was asking so many question about Aeros’ condition. Vivienne came alone and she spent her time discussing healing magic with Dorian. Solas came at night, expressing his concern. By the end of day, Aeros was exhausted but he was pleased.
He would get better soon.
“Ah, fancy meeting you here, Inquisitor! I see you’ve made full recovery.”
Aeros smiled when he saw his lover sitting on his usual couch in his comfortable alcove. The Inquisitor eyed the mess around the leather couch and trying so hard to resist the urge to clean those books. Dorian wouldn’t like it. He never would.
“How are you now?” Dorian asked.
By the third day, Dorian went back to his quarter to catch some rest. Mother Giselle didn’t give him the permission to get out from his quarter so he brought his work to his quarter. He held brief meeting with his advisors while in bed. They smuggled him reports and letters and documents that needed his sign. Dorian was furious when he got back to Aeros quarter and found Aeros working instead of resting.
“Don’t worry. I have a permission from Mother Giselle to work.” Aeros was too happy when he heard that. He quickly wore his usual Inquisitor’s attire and ran across Skyhold to settle the business that was left unattended.
“So eager to save the world, I see,” Dorian commented. “Anyway, is there something you need? Do you want to talk about something?”
“I want to say thank you for your assistance.” Aeros stepped closer to Dorian’s chair. He was now standing right in front of him. Looking down at his lover, the urge to kiss him grew stronger. He raised a hand to cup Dorian’s cheek and brushed his thumb over the cheekbone. “You mean so much to me.”
“And you mean the world to me, amatus.” Dorian leaned to his touch.
Aeros leaned down and kissed Dorian. With no risk of infecting his lover with the same illness, he deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and panting for air. He had wanted to do this so long, wanted to taste Dorian and felt the brush of his tongue against his. He kissed him again, gently this time. It was chaste and sweet and perfect.
“That was quite a nice kiss. Don’t you agree?” Dorian asked.
“Yes, it was.”
Dorian noticed something in his tone. He took a deep breath. “Somehow I believe you’re not here just to thank me and kiss me. As much as you love me, I know you love your job more. What is it?”
“Sharp as always.” Aeros smiled. “I’ve arranged an expedition to Shrine of Dumat. We are certain it’s where Samson has been hiding. We will depart soon and Cullen will come too. Will you come with me?”
“Is it cold there?” Dorian asked.
“It’s not something like Emprise du Lion. I promise.”
Dorian took another deep sigh. “Very well. I’ll come with you. Although I must say I don’t like it. It’s too soon. I’m not sure you’ve recovered completely.”
“There’s no rest for the wicked,” Aeros said. “Besides I have you to take care of me so I’m sure I’ll be alright.”
Aeros dodged the book Dorian threw at him. For a moment he was afraid Dorian was angry but the kiss that followed stated the opposite. All was well as it should be.