literature

Who We Love {DA:I Fic}

Deviation Actions

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“Inquisitor!” Cassandra’s cry cut through the hot night air.

Gael had never heard anything like it. The Seeker’s voice was normally gruff and leveled. The desperate crack in her pitch sent a chill down his spine. He needed to dodge, needed to move, but his hands, unsteady and slick with his own blood, slid along the ground as he tried to rise. Heart pounding in his ears, he turned his head to see the giant reptilian head only meters away, poised to strike as it prepared itself to release the cursed fire on him. Gael’s large elven eyes grew wide as he saw the red-lyrium bubbling in the beast’s throat.

The dragon lurched forward and the fiery storm blazed out of its mouth. It would have incinerated him instantly but, less than a second after crying out her warning, Cassandra stepped in, drawing up her shield and crouching over him in one swift motion. Hellfire engulfed them and The Inquisitor cried out as the unworldly flames licked at his skin. He lost consciousness for a few seconds. When he came to, he was about 50 meters away from where he had previously fallen. Cassandra was lying a considerable distance away from him, her once-gleaming armor now charred and blackened. Fueled by sheer adrenaline, the elf heaved himself to his feet.

“Cassandra!” He shouted, using whatever strength he had left to sprint toward his fallen comrade.

A massive tail whipped through the air and smacked against the ground in front of him, cutting his run short. The ground shook at the impact and Gael stumbled back, almost losing his footing. The beast was nearly upon him again, stalking toward him. Muttering a prayer to Mythal, The Protector, he fumbled for the spare dagger strapped to his thigh - he had lost two others earlier in the battle.

He had fought a share of dragons before, but never one this bloody ugly.

His knees were shaking, but he held his ground, even as the monster began to gain speed. He was Inquisitor Gael Lavellan, he would not yield to this thing. He held the dagger’s hilt with both hands and braced, but the dragon wasn’t able to get as close in on him this time. The moment it was within range, it was struck by a high-level spirit spell. Currents of green energy split the air around them like lightning and found their home within the archdemon’s core. The beast roared as it reeled back away from him. Gael turned to see his savior, his party’s mage, Dorian, standing on a rock not far from him. He was leaning wearily on his mage’s staff, hand extended as he casted the spell.

The dragon had taken substantial damage, but it looked to be coming back with a vengeance as it recovered. Dorian leapt off the rock, surprisingly agile for a mage even in his current state, and ran toward Gael. He unceremoniously smacked against The Inquisitor, a teleportation spell on his lips, and in a split second, they had landed on the other side of the mesa. Gael was disoriented and dazed as the pain of his multiple wounds finally caught up with him. He was unresponsive to Dorian’s instructions, so the young mage grabbed the collar of the elf’s leather armor and threw him down, perhaps more roughly than he’d intended, behind a large stone for cover.

The sky looked apocalyptic, Gael noted in his pain-induced haze; it was red, with dark clouds contrasting against the sanguine color. The stony surface of the tabletop-mountain was scorching hot, as was the air around them, he knew, but he couldn’t actually feel the heat. The dampness beneath his armor felt like cold-sweat, as if he were feverish. Dorian was fussing over him. As Gael gradually regained his senses, his companion’s words began to reach him; “…alright? How badly are you hurt? Maker damn it, Lavellan, answer me!”

The haze suddenly left him. “Dorian!” He cried. “C-Cassandra… we’ve got to-” He attempted to stand, but Dorian held him down firmly. Gael shot him a bewildered look. “We have to help her!” He growled, trying to weasel out of the hold his friend seemed to be putting all of his remaining strength into. Dorian looked sullen in his silence. Gael stopped his struggling and grabbed onto the mage’s robes to give him a good shake. Dorian refused to meet his eyes. “Dorian… Lethallin, please… You do understand… I-I love her?” The elf pleaded, trying to keep his voice even. The prospect of never having the chance to tell her, especially after she had sacrificed herself to save his life… He couldn’t bear to think of it.

Dorian looked up at him then, and gave him the most sorrowful smile Gael had ever seen. Seeing Dorian drop his barrier of arrogance and look so honest for once was bizarre within itself. The man nodded and put his hand against Gael’s face.

“Right now, it doesn’t matter who we love, Inquisitor.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over the vallaslin markings that reached the elf’s cheek.

Gael’s already-wide eyes became even larger as he the implications of Dorian’s combined words and actions hit him. “D-Dorian…” He began to say, but was interrupted by a deafening crack. They had blinded the dragon earlier, but it still had its other senses. Dorian broke off their gaze first to check on their foe, Gael shortly followed. The beast had swung its tail into one of the mesa’s rock formations. It was clawing at the ground and letting out low, guttural noises. It wouldn’t be long until it sniffed them out…

The two men watched it for a moment before taking cover once more. An odd stillness fell around them, the dragon’s growls fading into a muffled rumble. “Here.” Dorian said after a beat, putting a large bottle in Gael’s hand. Gael looked to see a healing potion in his grasp, something he’d run out of early in the battle. Gael gave him a puzzled look. “You need to retreat,” The mage explained.

“What? No!” The Inquisitor protested. “All those people… We can’t let it reach Skyhold!”

“I won’t.” Dorian stated. His voice held his usual confidence, but also resignation.

Gael gaped at him for a moment, then briefly glanced at the potion. “This is your last healing potion…” He muttered, suddenly realizing what this all meant. He was shocked to find his vision blurred by the threat of tears. “I will not leave you, Dorian! Nor Cassandra!”

“You’re the only one who can stop Corypheus, Gael!” Dorian snapped. “Drink the potion, find Bull to go with you, and take the bastard out! End this nightmare! I’ll bury his pet.” He growled, his amber eyes burning. Dorian was always a very passionate man.

Gael shook his head, but didn’t argue. He knew Dorian spoke true. He was leader of The Inquisition, The Herald of Andraste, and a beacon of hope to the people of Thedas. Who would save them, if he died there? He thought of Cassandra, the mighty warrior he had fallen so hard for, and knew she would hate him if he acted so selfishly as to stay. Dorian handed him something else – another dagger, one that he’d previously thought lost. A lone tear trickled down Gael’s cheek.

A particularly loud roar made them both flinch, snapping them back to reality. Dorian grabbed his staff and moved to stand, but Gael latched onto his wrist with a desperate “Wait!” He stared into the mage’s eyes, his hold on him vice-like. They had to say something to each other, but their time was up. A closer screech reverberated off the stone pillars and, as if pushed by the force of the sound wave, Dorian threw himself at Gael. He knotted his fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and planted a hard kiss on his lips. Gael’s eyes widened. The other man’s lips felt unfamiliarly firm and masculine against his, but Gael had little time to experience the width of his jaw and the foreign scruff of his mustache. Before he knew it, his best friend had ripped himself away. The mage gave a guilty grin at Gael’s dumbstruck expression before charging into battle. A moment later, he heard Dorian taunt the beast about not getting away with ruining his expensive new clothes and smiled bitterly.

The smile warped into a grimace as the tears he had been holding spilled down his cheeks. He chugged down the potion, before smashing the bottle against the ground with a frustrated scream. In seconds, his wounds were gone. Inquisitor Lavellan did not look back as he walked away from the woman he loved and the man who loved him. In his stride, he whipped out both daggers, marching toward the eye of the storm, where he knew the evil Magister waited. If he couldn’t save them, he would make sure the man- demon- abomination responsible for this suffered tenfold.
Implied!CassandraxLavellan
One-sided DorianxLavellan

Dragon Age Inquisition has been my SHIT since Christmas. I wrote this for a class assignment and made myself super sad in the process. But I was happy with how it turned out, so I thought I'd share it.


Dragon Age, Dorian & Cassandra (c) Bioware
Gael Lavellan (c) Me
© 2015 - 2024 Katnappe13
Comments4
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Wow, this is fantastic and heartbreaking at the same time! Excellent writing!