Some time ago I commissioned amazing @badasserywomen once more to draw Vaxus and Falon’Din from @jessicapendragon Bloodlines’ drabble. This combo makes me weep, so beautiful.
For all their cruelty and madness, Falon’Din does not lie.
It is the one thing that gives Vaxus hope, whether it is hollow or not. Whether it cuts deeper in the end, it is something he cannot let go of and keeps close through each dark day when the sun shines but he cannot feel its warmth, when the birds sing and he cannot hear a note. When he forgets the color of eyes and the shape of a smile for however briefly and it is an act of betrayal that makes his heart ache.
But today is not one of those lost days, for Falon’Din has kept their word. Even so, it is a hard thing to believe he is walking through the royal amphitheater in Tevinter, harder still to believe the crowds they pass are not just figments of illusion or images from a slowly decaying memory. Vaxus is here, and somewhere below the vast crowd, tucked behind velvet curtains and armed guards, his family is here too.
The dead bring him news of Dorian and Felix. Wraiths and ghouls and bones kept together by Falon’Din’s powers, more and more of them as their power has grown in the corners of things thought conquered and forgotten. It is the only company he has besides the fallen Evanuris. There have been whispers of war, old things torn down and new things rising to the surface, with Dorian and the Lucerni at the forefront. There was nothing for a time. Vaxus is not sure Falon’Din kept news from reaching his ears if only to torture him, or the world stood still once more, but then it sang out a new tune. The heir of House Pavus is to become emperor of Tevinter, and Vaxus is here to see it done.
Although no one can see him. Falon’Din has wrapped them both in magic that allows them to pass through the crowds - through them, like they are made of nothing but sunlight and shadow. It is an unnerving feeling, but a fleeting thought in Vaxus’ mind among the tangle of them the closer they get to his family.
A platform stage floats in the ribcage of an old amphitheater, cracked pillars fallen and a stage where countless plays and speakers once performed now sunken beneath clear water with some of the stands swallowed up as well. Lights and movement shimmer in the water and jump above the surface like fish made of stars. Flowers rain down from the bottom of the circular disc and fall like slow rain, disappear before they touch the water, a constant stream that has no beginning or end.
It is beautiful. It is nothing compared to what comes next.
There’s a sudden hush in the crowd, an inhale of surprise, before the constant murmuring stops as a split in the sky above the platform appears. For a moment Vaxus’ heart lurches. It is not green and malicious, like so many Fade rifts from days’ before, but his whole body remembers, reacts like battle is breathing down his neck. It is not demons and ichor that emerge, however.
Two figures appear, a man he does not recognize holding an ornate headpiece and a woman he does - Maevaris, holding a long scepter. They are too far away to see her expression, but the press of her shoulders is strong, proud. Vaxus’ heart does something else at the next to arrive. It is Dorian, wrapped in red and gold, head held high. Already regal in the way he carries himself, like he was always meant to carry this weight.
And he is not alone. Vaxus’ heart does another dance to see Felix standing beside him. It hurts and heals at the same time, like the removal of heavy shackles to reveal the raw flesh. There’s a hoarse cry in the back of his throat stuck on upswell of longing and love inside him, a pull on his feet greater than any order given. They are here, so close and so far and Maker, he would give anything to be able to see their faces clearly, to touch them, to let them know he is here.
It is not the Maker than answers his prayers. There’s a hand, light upon his shoulder, long fingers tinged blue wrapping around. “We are not rabble to be mingling among the common masses. I do believe we deserve grander seats, do you not agree?”
It feels like nothing changes, but after a breath they’re rising up and up, above the crowds and on their way to the platform. Vaxus doesn’t worry about falling, doesn’t concentrate upon anything but his family growing closer and closer and closer until the details bloom before him. The handsome grey beginning to kiss Dorian’s temples, the braid almost hidden within Felix’s wild hair - perhaps he wanted to match his father. Vaxus’ gaze swims with tears and he wipes them away quickly, wanting to see. Needing to see. He takes in everything he can, soaking them up like this is the end of the dry season and with rapturous release, the waters finally come. He had forgotten what happiness truly felt like, and it is the awkward, brave face Felix makes in front of all Tevinter, how Dorian glances aside at Maevaris with a look of utter boredom for a second even as his eyes shine with absolute triumph.
There are words and ceremony, not as much as days’ gone by, for this is a new, truer era for Tevinter, but there is always occasion to have occasion. Vaxus doesn’t pay attention to any of its meaning, only memorizing the curve of Dorian’s smooth inflection all over again, filling with color all the memories of conversation and devotion once more. He cannot ignore when Falon’Din finally speaks again, however.
“Your mage love has woven a great deal of protection all around,” Falon’Din says, waving a hand in front of them, and webs of spells appear glistening around the royal family and branching out around the complex. “He is quite talented, for a human. I am sure if someone with ill intent even dared to think about causing a raucous today, they would simply combust in his presence.” A hand reaches out for the nearest strand and passes through it unharmed, and unnoticed. “Of course, he did not plan for my kind. It is well that none now remain, and a good thing I am not here to enact any revenge for that fact.”
It is said breezily, in that easy mocking way of his captor, but Vaxus hears the threat of it like a clear cut bell. His loyalty is tied tighter than any noose and he is never allowed to forget. The hand at his shoulder pats gently, soothing the suddenly tense line. “I am here for you, my friend. Now, let us see if we cannot catch his attention. Watch closely.”
Falon’Din reaches in front of Vaxus’ face and flicks at a nearby spell. His finger does not pass through it this time but touches it, and like the string of an instrument it thrums and catches the attention of its instrumentor. Dorian’s eyes snap to the side and stare right into Vaxus’. Not truly, as they remain obscured, but it is close enough that he cannot stop the surprised inhale, the blush that spreads through him at the accidental attention.
He feels remade, alive unlike he has since he died, and so very much in love. And then Dorian looks away, and the world is cold. Cold, but not broken and decimated, an ember in the dark to hold to his heart.
Falon'Din tells him to take one last look and he takes as long as he can, as much as he can. And he does, the way Felix is growing and growing even right before his eyes in these few precious moments, the way Dorian laughs at the expense of the other poor man on the stage, and Vaxus tucks it all away to take with him.
Hope, and home.