#inquisidorian

Warm summer nights were perfect for backyard movie nights. A sheet, a projector, and a suitably long extension cable made for memorable nights. Ellie had her friends Cole and Sera over, while Dorian had invited himself over for dinner. Not that Baz had really minded. Any time with Dorian was well spent.

The pair of men were seated on the patio sofa, dragged into the lawn. Flannel blankets were spread across the grass, as were bags of microwave popcorn and empty popsicle wrappers. Atop the blankets sprawled the kids, enjoying the family' favourite film.

As Dorian was wont to do, he had to make some sort of comment on the state of affairs. "I do have to say, though. This isn't quite the life I imagined," Dorian remarked, quite out of nowhere, as he squeezed Baz's hand.

"You weren't dreaming of watching The Emperor's New Groove with me? I'm offended," Baz replied, squeezing his hand back. He glanced away from the screen admiring Dorian's profile. In his humble opinion, he had no business having such a perfect jawline. Or looking so good with his five o'clock shadow.

Pavus must have caught him staring, because he flashed a grin Baz's way. "Of course not. I'd always imagined Pride and Prejudice. The Nevarran production, mind you. Not that poor excuse of an Orlesian production. What has cinema come to?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"Oi, shut up you two! I really like this part," yelled Sera over her shoulder. She had nearly finished braiding some daisies into Eleanor's hair. Baz's kids were absorbed in the movie, laughing as Pacha and Kuzco snuck into a restaurant pretending to be a couple. Lucian was drawing Kuzco in the dim light of the projector. Flanagan was absorbed in the movie, quoting lines as they came up. Cole was struggling to stay awake beside Ellie. And Tavish slept soundly in his carrier beside Baz.

Ever since they moved here, he could have only hoped for a peaceful evening like this. To share it with someone he'd fallen for made it even more special. Dorian leaned into Baz's side, resting his head on Baz's shoulder. "Cassandra has a copy. I'll ask if I can borrow it when I see her tomorrow," Baz murmured. He released Dorian's hand to instead pull his boyfriend closer to his side, resting his hand on Dorian's waist.

"Nonsense. I'm right where I want to be," Dorian replied, snorting as Kuzco broke the fourth wall. "It's better than what I imagined anyhow."

Baz beamed at that. He knew he wasn't Dorian's usual type. Apparently freshly divorced, single father of four was rarely anyone's type. After Andrea, he figured he was done with love. That there wouldn't be time for it or they'd fight with the children. So by his measure, having anyone at this stage was better than he imagined. For someone as remarkable as Dorian? Even less probable. "You're remarkable," Baz whispered.

"Save that for the bedroom. But you will get the film, yes?" Dorian replied, before promptly getting shushed by the kids. He put his hands up in mock defeat, before settling back into Baz's side.

Baz was usually patient. Years of training ensured that he wore a calm face in the face of any adversity, to not give his enemies any advantage. It helped him rebuild Highever, and it certainly aided him in Halamshiral.

All of that went out the window when Eleanor showed up at the Siege of Adamant. She was supposed to stay back at Griffon Wing, to wait for the troops to return. Perhaps it was too much to expect her to listen to him or maybe he indulged her too much because now she was fighting for her life.

War wasn't for teenaged daughters who'd scarcely killed more than a nug. It certainly wasn't for daughters who believed themselves to be heroes. Especially daughters who at best had a few weeks of combat training under their belts.

She looked so small in the cot, her face looking paler than he'd ever seen it. Her chest rose with shallow breaths. Maker have mercy, he silently begged. Please don't call her to your side just yet. She's still just a girl.

The battle flooded his mind in fragments. The moment he realised she was there. Sword and shield drawn, battling to his side. Her technique was clumsy, but she bore a determined look as she caught up to Vivienne, Cassandra, and Varric. How he cursed at her, then demanded her to stay close to Cassandra.

The look on her face as she realised that she would have to kill. Not saying anything as her sword injured a Grey Warden, people she upheld as heroes. Having to urge her onward as she stared at the dying person, tears in her eyes.

Trying to keep her out of sight when fighting Clarel. Falling as the tower buckled, Eleanor throwing herself into his arms as they fell. Seeing her first injuries in the Fade and listening to her scream as a healing poultice knitted her skin back together.

Vivienne supporting Ellie through the worst of the Nightmare's intrusions. "Maybe you should have died instead of your mother," the demon had taunted. Seeing their marked graves, and that Eleanor feared being a burden. The demon taunted him in his departed wife's voice, saying "You never were good at taking care of them. They will die and it will be all your fault."

Then facing the monster. Each attack was directed at Eleanor, knowing that it was the best way to defeat the Inquisition. Defeating the Aspect by the skin of their teeth, then leaving Loghain to defeat the monster.

Everything after was a blur. He was barely functional as he had the wardens support the Inquisition, and rushed to where Eleanor was being treated. She was wrapped in bandages, parts of her hand wrapped flat.

To some extent, the Nightmare was right. She could die and it would be his fault. She was hurt and it-

"Amatus?" Dorian called softly, poking his head into the infirmary. He glanced over, dazed, before training his eyes back on the rise and fall of his daughter's chest.

Baz jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. "Have you eaten?" Dorian tried. That hadn't mattered, and frankly it wasn't his concern right now. Not when his little girl was this injured, not when she needed him.

"Baz. Can you look at me?"

He took a deep breath and looked over at Dorian. The Tevinter's face was twisted in concern and he looked frightened himself. Despite everything, the mage still tried to put on a brave face. His hand on Baz's shoulder cupped his face, a thumb trailing over his cheek. Beneath the pressure, the Inquisitor's skin tugged and pulled as it closed a superficial wound.

"Even you need to eat and sleep," Dorian reminded Baz. The words felt detached from reality, floating over his head. His gaze trailed back to the frail figure of his daughter. A hushed curse left Dorian's mouth.

"I can't, Dorian. I can't," the Inquisitor croaked. "I need to be here. When she wakes up. She has to." He shouldn't have said that out loud. Bile crawled up his throat, his chest seizing up. Deep breaths. He tried to control the sobs threatening to erupt from his chest.

The dam was broken, though. Baz hadn't cried like this since he was a boy, wailing sobs clawing out of his chest and constricting his head. They wracked his whole body, his body shaking as he tried to regain control. He felt himself pulled close to Dorian's chest, face pressed into soft robes. Words tumbled out of Baz's mouth to the effect of "It's my fault", "I'm going to lose her", and "I failed her." It was senseless babbling, as he scrabbled against Dorian's chest as if he could carve out for himself a sanctuary.

Time passed strangely as Baz clung to Dorian, his only anchor to reality. His grip weakened, as did the volume of his wailing. Before long, he was reduced to a shaking mess in Dorian's arms. The mage's fingers were awkwardly stroking his hair, softly murmuring reassurances that things would be okay.

"Dorian," he rasped, wrapping his arms around his midsection and squeezing tight.

"I'm here," Dorian affirmed, embracing him back. They lingered there together, for a few moments.

With a deep breath, Baz pulled out of the hug and wiped his face. "Hopefully your robes aren't too damp. I know you like them clean," Baz said quietly, taking in his surroundings again. Eleanor was still breathing, fast asleep. A new chair arrived, as had a pile of blankets, some wine, bread, and cheese.

"Least of my concerns right now. You needed someone. I was here," he said, uncharacteristically serious. It was almost off-putting, but Baz had just ruined his carefully curated image.

He threw a weak smile to the man at his side. Hopefully it was more reassuring than haunting. "It's getting late. You should go to bed," Baz said, training his gaze back on his daughter.

"Without you there? Perish the thought. Sounds dreadfully boring," Dorian quipped. He continued in a softer voice, "You need someone right now. Let me be him. I can't promise I'll be any good, but the least I can do is be with you."

Baz smiled awkwardly at Dorian, grasping his hand. "I um... Can you hold me? At least for a while," he stammered.

"If you'll drink something first," Dorian insisted. The altus kissed his temple, before pulling him over to the more comfortable chair. Baz grabbed the bottle and let Dorian pull him into his lap.

-----

"I think Dad got hurt," Flick said monotonously, staring down at his hands. "He got hurt rescuing me. It's all my fault."

Baz's heart broke, seeing his son in this state. Knowing that he should have prevented this from happening. He had people in Minrathous, someone should have known. But at the end of the day, he'd take a son with one eye over no son. He offered a hug to Flanagan, who reluctantly collapsed in his arms.

"He will be fine, pup. I'm just glad you're safe. You're home," he murmured, rubbing his back. When Flick finished sobbing, he looked him in the eye. "If you blame anyone, you blame me and Dad," Baz told him.

"I love you, Papa," he sniffled. "I thought I was going to die and all I could think is I don't remember the last time I told you that and I couldn't die without telling you."

Tears were prickling at his eyes, but Baz ignored them. He kissed Flick's forehead, just above where a gnarly scar was forming. "You're safe now pup," he reassured his son. "I love you."

"Can you sleep in my room tonight?" the boy asked.

"Of course. Why don't you get ready and I'll check on Dad? Shall I call Hector to accompany you?" Baz suggested. Flick nodded. He stepped out the door, making sure his son had line of sight on him.

After a few minutes, Hector was before Baz and he provided instructions about what to do with his son. He instructed one of the housekeepers to prepare a spare bed on the floor for him, before heading back to Dorian's room.

He announced himself before entering. Dorian was seated at the bench at the foot of their bed, hunched over with splotchy red cheeks and runny kohl. "Amatus," Dorian greeted flatly, avoiding Baz's gaze.

"My love," Baz replied softly, sitting down beside Dorian. They sat quietly for a short while, not saying anything. What could they say that would make this alright? Flick could have died. They could sling insults and scream until their lungs gave out but it wouldn't change that their son had lost his eye.

Dorian eventually sank into Baz's side. "This is going to happen again, isn't it?" the magister asked quietly. It was. There would be more attempts, and as they continued to make waves. Especially if the Lucerni continued to make waves as they were.

"Each assassin's guild across Thedas probably has a contract on us by this point," Baz replied, sliding his residual arm around Dorian's back. "They know the kids are a way to get to us."

Dorian grabbed Basileus' thigh and let out a slow sigh. "Maybe they should go back with you. You can keep them safe," Dorian suggested, still unable to look Baz in his eyes.

"Sweetheart, I can't protect all four of them by myself," Baz responded, tilting Dorian's face so he could look at him. He'd never seen him so wrecked. His moustache wasn't groomed, his stubble had grown in and his eyes were a bit wild.

Dorian was searching Baz's face, looking for something. Perhaps anger or... maybe a sign of how to react. He wished he had the answers because it would make everything far easier. The most he could do was intertwine his fingers with Dorian's. "You saved him. For that, I will be forever grateful," he said earnestly. "I'm scared for him, but the person I trust most is looking after him. We'll take the next steps tomorrow."

The Tevinter stared at their fingers, watching as Baz ran his thumb over his knuckles. "How did you do it?" Dorian asked. "Keep it together."

"You might recall I didn't. Someone had to feed me and remind me life keeps going," Baz reminded him. Back then, they'd just been figuring out what it meant to bring Dorian into the Cousland family. "I'm pretty sure he told me he'd stay at my side and held me until I stopped crying."

Dorian shook his head, looking at Baz with awe. "I love you," he managed, voice cracking as he leaned over for a brief kiss.

"I love you too. Now let's wash up dear. I'd like some time with you before you return to work tomorrow and Flanagan asked that I spend the night watching over him," Baz said.

They spent a short while cleaning up together. As Baz helped wash Dorian's back, he noticed a new burn scar on his shoulder blade. He made a mental note of its placement, so he could ask about it in the morning. For now, he lightly pressed his lips against it and gingerly washed it, careful not to irritate it.

"I'm out of shape," Dorian complained, scrubbing his head.

"Doubt it, with the way you carry on in bed. Probably healthier to not go on month long expeditions and be on a rationed diet," Baz shrugged. He hooked his arm around to grasp Dorian's stomach. "Besides, it leaves me more Pavus to love."

Dorian shook his head, smacking him in the face with wet hair. "I guess this Cousland guy is alright," he joked, craning his head for a quick kiss on the cheek.

In retaliation, Baz pressed another to his scarred shoulder. "If I'm just alright, then, I'll go check in on our son," he taunted, squirming out of Dorian's grasp and out of the shower.

"Baz, get back here," he called, stopping the flow of water to chase after him. Dorian found Baz at the sink, smirking at him in the mirror.

He cocked an eyebrow at Dorian as he lathered up his cheeks to shave. Instead of responding, the magister took the time to suck a love bite into Baz's shoulder. "I wasn't going to let you leave without a souvenir," he muttered once he was satisfied with his work.

Cousland shook his head finishing his shave before kissing Dorian one more time. "When we're feeling better, I'll want to indulge in your full portfolio of talents," he whispered, before slipping into his nightclothes and a dressing gown.

In the faint moonlight, he examined that usually serene face beside him. Covered in crud, dried saliva and probably some snot for good measure. He looked exactly like Tavish there, which wasn't a great sign for a man in his mid thirties. Unfortunately, even looking bedraggled as Baz was, Dorian still found him unfathomably attractive. The bastard.

He reached over to grab Baz's bedside water cup, but it was empty. Fine. Let it be known the Tevinter altus was willing to do menial tasks for his beloved. Dorian found a jug of water and filled up Cousland's cup. A few kisses to his chin roused the man and he sounded absolutely terrible. "Hmm?" Baz rasped.