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The first thing Yridhren Lavellan is aware of are his own scrambling fingers. The elf's back arches and he twists around violently, grasping at the ghost of a quiver. It takes a moment of the hand patting his empty back before he realizes no arrows would manifest.
The next thing Yridh's aware of is that he can't breathe. His throat makes gurgling choking noises and inhaling a breath is impossible. He tries to cough to clear it even with the little air in his lungs. It works a bit, and he swallows desperately trying to breathe normally again. It hurts.
The third thing he's aware of is that until a second ago, he'd been dreaming. The elf sits up and pulls damp sheets off his sweaty chest. The bedroom was dark. There was no moon out that night and the stars glimmered weakly in the city sky, so the window offered little light. Not being able to see what was around him was disorienting and Yridh just couldn't shake the nightmare.
Red lyrium sprouted up all around. It glowed menacingly and the scarlet light shone onto the gaunt faces of his friends crowded around the bed. Every single one of them stared at him. Some looked frightened, others looked angry and distrustful, but all of their eyes were faintly empty inside. Their strength had been drained away and replaced by a crackling red lyrium contamination.
"Nnnno, no, no.... You can't be here! You're dead and they don't come back!" Sera repeated. She seemed terrified of him, cowering in the corner. She looked like she was dying.
Yridh's heart roared in his chest, pounding up into his throat and choking him. He could feel the beat beat beat throbbing all the way down his arm. The whole thing hurt, from his shoulder to the elbow to the small amount of forearm that remained. The pain only amplified his fear. He felt frantic, like a wild animal, eyes darting and his mind desperately trying to orient itself. This room, this bed, this whole place was so new and unfamiliar to him. He didn't feel safe.
His hand found the locket hanging around his sweaty neck. In a whisper, the elf opened the clasp and asked "...Dorian?"
It takes a minute but Dorian Pavus replied sleepily, "Amatus."
He waits for a response and after Yridh is silent, he asks "Is everything alright?"
"I had the red lyrium dream again." The words are blurted out like a confession.
"Ah." The calling crystal projects the sound of fabric shuffling as Dorian sits up in bed. "Talk to me, my love. What happened this time?"
"It was the one where I traveled through the portal alone and watched everyone die. And you were the last, and I had to watch your eyes glow red and you coughed up blood and-" He cuts off, crying too hard to keep going.
"Oh amatus, how I wish I was there. I am so sorry." They both sit in silence, waiting for the dalish man to calm once more. The sound of their breathing filled the black space of the empty bedroom.
"My arm aches. I miss you terribly, ma vhenan." Yridh wipes his nose on the blanket, finally able to speak again.
"I know. I miss you always." Dorian replied with a sigh. "You haven't had that dream in awhile."
"Yeah." More silence as Yridh tries to breathe normally. His arm throbs and he lets out a soft whine. Everyone's eyes around him, glowing red in the dark.
"Have you taken your tonic recently?"
"No." Yridh replied miserably. The potion was readily available at his bedside as it was every night since he lost the mark. It tasted foul and numbed his mouth but it was the only thing that eased the magical ache. The wound was healing well, but it was improving slower than a simple amputation would. The healers couldn't find a real reason for it to do so, maybe it was resistant to magic as a result of corruption from the mark? Either way, the wound was left to heal naturally, while he numbed the pain.
"The day you died, I ran out of arrows making them pay. then it didn't matter anymore..." Sera's voice echoed through his head, crackling with lyrium corruption.
Yridh fumbled for the pain relief tonic on the bedside table. Dorian waited in silence as he heard Yridh moving around. The elf took a swig obediently, and snarled as the acidic and oddly minty taste hit his tongue.
"There you go, that's one pain dealt with." Dorian encouraged. "You wanna try to get some air, clear your head of the dream? That always worked before, standing out on the balcony..." He sounded sad mentioning their old place in Skyhold.
"Mnnh, the city isn't the same. I miss the forests and mountains, Dorian." The elf pouted.
"Ah," The magister replied thoughtfully. "Never could keep you inside long."
"No." Yridh agreed.
"Is Sera with you?"
Then it didn't matter anymore...
"She's out. But she made sure I had what I needed." He eyed the tonic bottles again.
"As much as it will pain me to do so, I shall have to thank her for looking after you." An overdramatic sigh.
Dorian's playing up that character he does and it makes Yridh laugh quietly. Then he stands and opens a window in the small bedroom. He had been staying there with Sera since they moved to Denerim together. The city's reconstruction has gone smoothly in the years after the last blight and it was back to being the central hub and capital of Fereldan. He breathed in the night air, feeling himself calm down. Yridh was stubborn about it not being close enough to nature and he often felt rather cooped up. He wished he could heal his body out in the woods with family, instead of in this cramped little city that smelled of people and garbage and horse manure and sounded too loud all the time. At least at his quarters in Skyhold he had been far enough above the people below that he could pretend he was just camped out in the mountains. The wind whistling and the occasional bird squawking as it flew by.
But he was doing good work here. It was work he actually enjoyed too, far more than anything he had done as official Inquisitor. The field work didn't count of course- he loved that, and most of it was only allowed because he alone had the power to close the rifts. Leliana would've never let such an important figurehead go off fighting demons and bandits and whatnot if it weren't for the mark. Now in Denerim, he lived a life that felt like a mix of that old risky fieldwork and the high stakes gamble of the Orlesian Game. He was well suited to it- nothing here was ever going to be as scary as the night at the Winter Palace, and by the time he had returned to Halamshiral for the Exalted Council, he'd lost the ability to care about what all those people thought of him anyways. Now he took those skills and applied them in subtle negotiations to manipulate the upper class and anyone else who messed with friends of Red Jenny.
Sera was his closest friend and she giggled like the purr of a cat whenever they ran missions together. His blind acceptance of whatever hijinks she asked him to get up to with her thrilled her to the bone and she felt a close kinship to him despite their drastically different lives as elves. Right now she was out gathering intel on some new Orlesian snob who had moved in while real estate in Denerim was cheap and now he overcharged rent to his tenants. "Stick him like a pig, bloated with other people's coin as he is!" she'd cackled on her way out the door.
When he'd asked her where she'd go, back before she'd left Skyhold when he was still Inquisitor, she'd struggled to even remember where the inquisition had picked her up from. Yridh knew exactly where he was before he fell into this mess- at home amongst the forest and mountains of the Free Marches with his beloved clan and family. He had gotten the chance to visit them once after the fight with Corypheus when he still held enough power to go wherever he wished. Dorian and him had made the trek north, taking a brief voyage across the sea and through the newly restored gates of Kirkwall to pass via the port and onto the mountains beyond. His clan was not near the city however, and it was another few weeks weaving between mountains before they were greeted by dalish arrows sinking into their cart with a thud.
Yridh thought of this as he looked out the window and stared up into the sky above Denerim. "Remember when you met my mother?"
"Oh, you mean the leader of your entire clan? Yes, and I remember how you neglected to tell me you were an elven prince." Dorian scoffed.
"You tell that joke every time and it's still not even true." The elf protested. Whatever position he might still hold within his clan, Yridh could never be described as a "prince".
"Incredible! The sending crystal can even project the sound of your rolling eyeballs." The mage teased.
Yridh's eyes rolled as if on command. He laughed again, his heart feeling a little lighter and his head was starting to clear. The red lyrium swirling behind his eyes faded back. His friends' anguished cries got quieter, but it seems they'll always stay with him.
"I was just thinking about the journey to get there," Yridh continued, "and how it was pretty much just the two of us in a wagon for months."
"Don't forget that horribly cramped wooden contraption Josephine tried to convince us was a 'nice travel barge.'"
"Okay, well yes, but I mean the time we spent alone and not crammed into the same space as a hundred other people." Traveling through the Kirkwall port was never a glamorous experience.
"Mm yes, I do recall a certain someone begging to fool around the moment we had some privacy again."
Yridh scoffs loudly, his face heating up a little. "Ass."
Dorian laughs from deep in his chest. He did so love it when his partner insulted him in that adorable, half-hearted way.
"ANYWAYS," Yridh continued "I just meant that... I miss that. I miss having you right there next to me, when I didn't have to speak to another soul but you. I want your arms around me, vhenan."
"Oh, amatus." The word hissed out of Dorian's lips as it always did. "I know. How I wish I was there now." He'd gotten quiet again, speaking softly into the crystal. It was almost like he was standing beside the elf, whispering the words into Yridh's large pointed ears.
"Would you like to know what I remember of that trip?" Dorian asked.
"Mhm." Murmured Yridh as he looked out at the stars once more.
"I remember how elated you looked when we first arrived. The way you started to perk up when you heard familiar birdsong, and you kept sniffing the air like a little mouse." The Magister chuckles. "Then you told me you could hear the camp, even though we had yet to see any of your clan. Your eyes were so bright."
"Mmm." Yridh smiled. "Miss home."
"Yes. I know you do, amatus."
"It wouldn't be so hard if you were here too."
"I know."
They fell silent. Somewhere out in the city, party-goers called out to one another. Yridh saw another open window across from his building where a tired elf lethalin bounced and rocked a toddler on one hip. A pair of elves crossed the alleyway underneath him, their hands linked together. A swallow fluttered into a nest hidden in the gap in a roof. Hooves clicked on stone paved streets.
The environment was different, sure. But so much had changed in the last few years of his life! He'd gotten to call so many different places home. The amount of land he had traveled was vast, the knowledge and experiences he'd been able to gather was more than anything he could have hoped for in his previous life, life before the mark. There had been a cost, absolutely, but it was such an easy sacrifice to make. He knew he would have gone to the Conclave a thousand times over if it meant meeting Dorian and all of his other companions.
Yridh found himself thinking about what Leliana said to him the day after they'd returned to Haven from the alternate timeline. "In Haven, you sacrificed yourself for me."
"Of course I did." She'd smiled then, a strange smile that confused him deeply at the time.
He understood now. One life, in exchange for the world. By that measure, he'd gotten out lucky. For the chance to meet the man who captured his heart? He would leap into the fade a thousand times.
His heartbeat steadied. He looked down at his arm, studying the bandages wrapped around the limb. The pain had returned to a more pleasant dull ache. The skin near the wound was numb and tingly. He held the sending crystal up to his face again.
"I'm feeling better. The tonic is working."
"I'm glad to hear that my dear." Dorian sounded relieved. Yridh could hear the scratching of a quill.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh, just preparing some signatures for my adoring fans." He replied with a cheerful huff.
"Mm, I remember those days."
"Ha! I'm flattered you think I'm anywhere near as famous as the grand Inquisitor"
"Get any love letters?"
"Sifting through them now. Ah, here's a good one: 'Magister Pavus, your etiquette and demeanor in court yesterday was barbaric. I've filed a formal complaint against you and that buffoon of a woman you've got plotting with you. How you have managed to obtain a foothold of power within the Imperium is beyond me however, you can be assured your little group the Lucerni will never achieve anything of note, if I have anything to say about it.'
Signed, your Mother."
"She doesn't beat around the bush does she?"
"No, but it is nice that she puts the effort forth to write me. Mailed it with a little wax seal and everything!"
"Ha. Things going well with her though? And what about Maevaris, how is she?"
"Things with mother are... Well, she cares enough to view my court appearances. I suppose that's something. Maeve is wonderful, she's so feisty in court. You'd like that about her."
Yridh's eye was caught by a mop of shaggy blonde hair. The elf disappeared quickly into the building's door below.
"Sera's back."
"That's good. I'll admit I didn't like the idea of you being left alone in your state." Dorian chided.
"I'm sure she had her reasons." Yridh replied. He didn't want to be left alone right now either, but he had faith in his friend. She liked surprises and often kept little secrets from him. It was Sera's way. He could hear her shuffling about in the main room and the sound of metal clanging. "I'd better go see what that's about."
Dorian laughed. "You do that. I'll speak to you in the morning. And amatus," he paused, sounding more serious. "You will call for me the next time this happens? I am always here."
"Of course." Yridh said with relief. He held the locket tight. "I love you, Dorian."
"I love you too."
Yridh shut the locket tight, making sure the calling crystal remained safely inside. He pulled the window shutters closed and tugged his robes around him, shivering off the last of the dream that had woken him up.
"Sera?" He left his room and peered at the metal device laid out on the table.
"Quizzy! You're never gonna believe what I've got for you. Close your eyes! Aw, you've already seen it." Sera beamed up at him, bouncing with excitement. "It's not all the way assembled yet so don't go shooting it or you might end up with a bolt in the eye. But we can get it fitted and adjusted and once you're healed up, boom!" She waved her fingers in front of the gleaming crossbow.
Fade-touched Veridian sparkled in the candlelight, nestled into polished steel and highlighting the intricate craftsmanship. It looked as if somebody had put a lot of time and effort into designing such a prosthetic specifically for him. It was equal parts a powerful weapon and a piece of artistry. The intricate mechanics that composed the firing device looked like they would put even Bianca to shame. The crossbow crackled with electricity, an emerald green rune set neatly into the top. The Inquisition's flaming eye was carved into the rune, and the second he saw it he recognized Dagna's artistic flair. That explained the superior craftsmanship and the ridiculously expensive and rare materials used to make such a device.
He reached out and touched it with trembling fingers. He traced the eye on the rune, feeling a smile crack his face. "Oh, Sera... I don't know what to say." Tears prickled his eyes.
"Don't you dare start crying, you." She crossed her arms, but her face grinned up at him. "Ya like it?"
"It's perfect. And beautiful. Please give Dagna my thanks." The elf's voice was quiet, and his eyes were trained on the piece. His hand moved on to trace the firing mechanism, studying it and taking it apart in his mind. Veridian was beautiful, and the sparkling green felt so familiar, he knew once it was fitted into place, he'd never want to take it off.
"We should probably wait until you're all healed up to actually try it on." Sera laid out an array of bolts, most of them were made of beautiful darkened steel and a few had gadgets attached that looked ready to explode when fired. "But when these arrived I just couldn't wait to show you."
Yridh turned his attention back to his friend, tears dripping off his chin. He looked into her eyes, which were grey-blue and full of life. No spark of red hidden within them at all. He stumbled forward and gave her a big hug. Sera shrank at first but then lifted her own arms up to embrace him as well. She patted his back as he shook and cried.
"Alright, alright, you silly thing. You're welcome." Sera teased, using the end of a red scarf to dab away tears from Yridh's cheeks. He eventually pulled away and took the scarf to wipe his face himself.
"I really needed a surprise like this tonight, Sera. Thank you." His throat felt tight, like he couldn't get the words out but pushed through anyways.
"You're welcome, Yridh. You let that prissy boyfriend of yours know about it too, yeah? Tell him I'm winnin' for presents." Sera shot him a snaggle-toothed grin before turning for her room and chucking a "Night!" over her shoulder.
Yridh clutched the locket around his neck. His chest felt warm. The cold sweat from before was all dried up and he had been reassured by the presence of his closest companions. The crossbow prosthetic laid out on the table, glowing softly now that the candles had been blown out. Yridhren tucked the robe around himself and headed back to his bed.
The last Inquisitor wasn't afraid to dream anymore.