Work Text:
There'll be happiness after me
But there was happiness because of me
Both of these things, I believe
There is happiness
When Dorian opens his eyes, he sees cherry blossoms.
The pink petals drift down the cliffside, landing amid familiar tents, the bright embroidered blues of his home making his throat tighten. He hasn't been home, he never… he never wrote his mother, told her where he went, told her he was okay.
He turns, looking around, searching for something– someone? He's looking for someone.
"Orym?" His voice echoes over the mountain, bouncing back to him in an eerie mimicry.
"You must be Dorian," a voice says from behind him. He whips around to find a half-elf man leaning against the tree, long dark hair blowing in the wind. His armor and tunic are familiar, a light blue only a few shades off from his own, and the green sash around his waist is embroidered with cherry blossoms blowing in the wind.
He knows who he is before he sees the ring on his finger.
"You're Will."
The man smiles sadly and nods. "Sure am. Got a minute to talk?" His brown eyes flicker up to the clouds– clouds? It's… hazy, hurts him to look. "Your friends will be done soon."
"Done?" He echoes lamely, trying to figure out why everything here feels wrong in a way he can't seem to place.
"Saving you." He says it so matter-of-factly, then tilts his head. "Oh, you didn't realize yet."
Dorian frowns and feels lightning boil beneath his skin briefly. "Realize what?" His voice is edged with anger, he doesn't like being left in the dark or toyed with.
Will steps forward, ducking his head to meet his eyes– fuck , he's tall, he thought they were the same height at first, but now he thinks Will might be a little taller, if only by an inch or two, or maybe Dorian just feels so incredibly small in this moment.
"You died , Dorian," he says gently. "I don't know how, I was–" His gaze skips away like a rock on the water. "I was watching Orym, I didn't realize you'd…"
"Died." The word feels… hollow. His anger is gone, he isn't particularly sad about it, it just feels… empty. "You were watching Orym?"
He smiles. "Of course." He thumbs at his wedding ring, spinning it around his finger idly. "Gotta keep an eye on my little moon while he's out there saving the world."
Dorian can't help but soften at that, at the fondness in Will's gaze and words.
"Dorian?"
His name echoes throughout this… space. This not-quite-Zephrah, not-quite-home. It's… Opal's voice? Opal's voice, tinged with fear and sadness in a way he hasn't heard in all the time he's known her.
"Your friends are almost done, and here we've just been talking about me," Will says lightly, coming closer and placing his hands on Dorian's shoulders. "I know what Orym means to you."
His cheeks burn a deep violet and he shrinks into himself. "Orym is my–"
"My very good friend, yes. I used that line too, once upon a time." Gods help him, he's died and he's getting a shovel talk from Orym's dead husband. "I know you care about him, Dorian, and he cares about you too. You don't need my permission, Melora knows, what am I going to do? Haunt you?" His smile is crooked and lighthearted and oh he understands how Orym fell for him now. "But please know that I want nothing more than for him to be happy. You make him happy."
"Please, little brother…"
Fy'ra Rai's voice is desperate and he looks up now, can see through the clouds and feel the pull in his chest.
"I don't–" He looks back down at Will and realizes abruptly that he's young. Orym isn't old by any means, simply older than him, but gods , Will is young. His age or younger, and that makes the ache in his chest grow. "I can't replace you."
Will laughs, a bodily thing that makes him shake. "Nobody's asking you to be, least of all Orym. Just be you, be Dorian Storm, because that is the man that my husband fell in love with."
"Brontë? Bron, please come back, I need you."
"I think that's your cue," Will says, patting him on the shoulder. "Think about what I said, okay?" His grip tightens and Dorian closes his eyes and braces himself, unsure of what to expect in the coming moments, when he hesitates.
"Actually, there's one more thing." He opens his eyes a sliver, eyeing Will carefully. He leans in and presses a quick peck to Dorian's lips, the kind of casual yet affectionate kiss that feels so foreign to him, who has only known stolen kisses in darkened corners and passing flames. "Give that to little moon for me, hmm?" He says with a wink, and pushes Dorian backwards.