#implied things

"You were raised as a human." Der's gaze roamed his face, and Damon's smile twisted.

"Yeah. My da was human. A mage, like Mum. He came to her camp looking for help." Suddenly uncomfortable with his lover's gaze, Damon shifted onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "He'd agreed to a partnership with a spirit of purpose, to help found a new order of mages, but it all went wrong. He wanted help, but the Circles would've killed him."

Der pressed his lips to Damon's neck. "He was fortunate that her clan did not," he murmured, and Damon laughed. "What did your mother do for him?"

Damon closed his eyes and breathed in. The bitter tang of elfroot and the pine scent of Der's clothing filled his lungs. He breathed in the scents a few more times, his jaw and neck loosening a bit more with each breath, and then turned to meet his gaze.

"Some potions, to help keep the spirit hidden away. Some failed attempts to remove it. And in the middle of all this, she fell pregnant with my oldest brother." He clicked his teeth. "That wouldn't do, a half-breed and a bastard at that. So they gave her a choice. She chose to leave with my da. Two apostates, one a Dalish with a baby on the way." He laughed bitterly. "We couldn't settle anywhere too long. They'd find out Mum or Da or both were mages, we had to keep moving. And then Patricia started having nightmares."

Der stroked his side and pulled him closer. "I am sorry," he murmured, his gaze again studying Damon's features.

Damon shrugged and waved him away. "Ignore me. I'm being moody." He flashed a grin and moved to straddle Der's hips. "You're not here for me to be moody."

Seizing his wrists and pressing a kiss to each, Der whispered, "I am not merely here for. Ah. This."

"Why not?"