The strangest of missives came. It was so peculiar that Leliana first passed the missive to Arethin.
It was from Tevinter.
“Tevinter?” Arethin frowned and turned the letter over in her hands.
“For Dorian, I believe,” Leliana said.
“Then why did you give it to me, and not to him?”
“I wanted to see what you thought.”
“I think he should see it,” she said, and as such she brought it to him.
“A letter from my family?” Dorian snorted. “Really, I'm quite busy as I am. I don't have time for their nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” Arethin asked.
“Oh, it was—well, it seems much less important now,” Dorian said, his back stiff.
“Why?”
He sighed. “In quite a large number of ways, Tevinter is much more backwards than the south,” he said.
“You needn't tell me that twice.”
Dorian waved a hand. “Quite apart from the slavery,” he explained. “They have—what I have learned are peculiar attitudes about those who enjoy the company of a same-gendered partner.”
Arethin blinked. “Why?”
“Among the nobility? Everything is about bloodlines,” he said with a shrug. “How can you have any kind of bloodline between two people who are quite unlikely to breed?”
“I see. And what does this have to do with your family?”
“Well, my lady, I quite enjoy the company of men,” Dorian said with a smirk. “And they had a great deal of issue with that.”
“I see,” Arethin nodded. Personally, she didn't really understand, but then again, many things about Tevinter were bizarre. “Well, perhaps read the missive over. It might be something useful.”
Dorian snorted and glanced down at the letter, then froze. “Redcliffe?” he frowned. “What's he doing there?”
“Now you have to go and see,” Arethin said. “Just to find out why anyone would go to Redcliffe.”
“That is a very good incentive,” Dorian said, wrinkling his nose. “Damn my family for accurately guessing my morbid curiosity.”
“Do you need someone to come with you?”
“Vivienne will, of course,” Dorian said immediately. “If you wish to join me, you can.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because it will likely shock the retainer greatly to realize that I am working for a heathen Dalish elf,” he rolled his eyes. “And that will be amusing.”
“You could bring Sera, or Bull, or Solas, and it would have the same effect.”
“Not quite the same as the facial tattoos, I'm afraid.” he suddenly turned serious. “And this is...rather concerning,” he admitted. “My family is likely interested in only me, and I do not believe they would have joined with the Venatori, but the fact that they sent someone all the way here...” he shook his head, expression troubled.
“Would they hurt you?” she asked.
“Not directly,” he said. “That's what I'm worried about. If the Venatori have gotten their hold in my family...”
Arethin nodded. “I see what you mean. Very well, I will come with you.”
Redcliffe village was quiet since the rifts had been closed and the Templars had gone away. They had repaired any damages rendered to the village, and there were many farmers and such that remained inside the walls for fear of lingering attackers.
Arethin was recognized on sight, soldiers and civilians alike bowing to her in the street. The retainer had chosen to meet Dorian in the little tavern at the edge of the lake, and the three of them went there.
The tavern was empty when they went inside.
“This is odd...” Arethin murmured.
Vivienne and Dorian exchanged a look.
“Lavellan, this bodes ill,” Vivienne said.
“I agree,” Dorian said.
Just then, someone Arethin didn't recognize came out of the shadows of the tavern. Dorian unsuccessfully stifled a gasp.
“You,” Dorian breathed.
“Dorian,”
Halward Pavus was a gray looking man, exhausted and wan. He was dressed in a travel-worn robe and looked to be still dusty from the road.
Dorian began to shake. “You,” he snarled, and stepped forward, fire licking up his hands.
“Oh, now, Dorian, my dear, this is absolutely ridiculous,” Vivienne proclaimed, snagging the back of Dorian's tunic. “Take a breath, darling.”
Dorian froze, glaring over his shoulder at her.
“Vivienne--” he hissed. “You know what he did—I am going to--”
“Rein in that temper, before this entire building goes up in flames,” she instructed. “Doubtless you are planning on doing all sorts of vile things, but we have not the time for it.”
Halward backed up against the wall, staring at Dorian like he'd never seen him before.
“Madame de Fer,” Dorian growled. “Let me go.”
“Altus Dorian Pavus,” Vivienne said. “Why should I do any such thing, when you so obviously have gruesome murder and mutilation on your mind?”
They looked at each other for several moments, before Dorian relaxed at last. The flames went out, and his expression became one of polite distaste.
“I quite agree, Vivienne,” Dorian said, his voice only a shadow of the terrible rage of before. “And we came all the way to Redcliffe for this.”
Arethin blinked. “What exactly is going on?” she said, looking from Halward, to Dorian, to Vivienne.
“Oh—well, it's a long and sordid story, and one I would be all to happy to share once we left,” Dorian said.
“Yes but—who is this?' Arethin asked. “We haven't even been introduced.”
“This is Halward Pavus,” Dorian said with a sneer. “My father.”
“Dorian--” Halward tried again.
Dorian breathed hard through his nose. “Vivienne, my friend, I do believe we should take our leave,” he said, ignoring Halward completely. “I find myself quite tiring of present company.”
Vivienne nodded. “Myself as well, dear.”
Dorian held out his arm, and Vivienne delicately put his hand upon it, as if they were escorting each other to a ball. They brushed past Arethin, and left, leaving her alone with Halward.
“Well,” Arethin said after a moment. She raised her eyebrows at Halward. “What exactly is that about?”
Halward was bloodless under his copper skin. “I would say—he has always been...troublesome,” he said. “But not like that.”
“He said you were his father. How long has it been since you saw each other?”
“Two years.”
“Ah,” Arethin nodded. “I daresay it has been a bit longer for him.”
Halward frowned, not understanding.
“Ser Pavus,” Arethin said. “I cannot imagine what you did to make him so angry. The last person he was that in a rage over was Gereon Alexius, and I can guess that what you did was not quite the same thing. Even so, clearly you should not be under the same roof.”
Halward got over his shock, his expression turning angry. “Who are you to say--”
“I am Arethin Nadur Lavellan,” she said. “I am the one who closed the breach, and the Mediator to the Southern Alliance—of which Dorian and Vivienne's people are a part of, I might add.”
Halward deflated. “I...have heard of you,” he said slowly. “I'd thought—well, if Dorian was uncooperative, I could speak to the—people he was with--”
“Well. I am here now.” she raised her eyebrows. “What, precisely, is the issue that has Dorian all aflame? He mentioned some quarrel about his choice of partners.”
Halward looked away from her. “I—wished what was best for him,” he said. “I did—something which...he did not like. Then he...managed to leave, in spite of...everything.”
“Managed to leave?”
Halward still did not look at her. “This is hardly for your ears,” he said.
“Well. In that case, I'd advise against you seeking us out again. It appears Dorian will have nothing to do with you.”
Halward glanced at the door that Dorian and Vivienne had left through. “Please...what happened?” he breathed. “He looks—not so different. But he acts...”
Arethin took pity on him. “He was subject to a spell that Alexius performed, and to make a long story short, if you have not seen him for two years, he has not seen you in more than five. Perhaps closer to ten, I'm not certain.”
Halward stared at her, speechless.
“He is most likely a better mage than you are, now,” she added. “Or at least—a good a mage as someone who's been fighting for five solid years is.” she looked him up and down. “I understand you're a noble, of some variety. I would keep that in mind, Lord Pavus.”
Halward looked at the door again, but appeared to have nothing more to say. Arethin left, to rejoin Vivienne and Dorian outside.
The two of them were down the road a ways, talking airily as if they were doing nothing more than taking an afternoon stroll.
When Dorian caught sight of Arethin, he scowled.
“So,” he said. “What took you so long?”
“I spoke with your father.”
“And?”
“And, I heavily implied you might immolate him if he came close,” she said with a shrug. “He wouldn't explain what the issue was, only that he wanted to see you.”
Dorian snorted. “Of course he did.”
“Dorian, what did he do?” she asked. “You really did look like you wanted to kill him, but it's been years for you. What happened?”
He sighed.
“Years, in a sense,” he said. “And I'm certainly not who I was. But I still can't go back.”
“Why not?”
“Well—you recall that my family did not like my...choice of companion.”
“Yes, you told me that.”
“It was a point of contention and grave embarrassment for some years,” he explained, glancing over his shoulder as if worried his father would follow them. “Well, it would have been so much of a problem if he hadn't--” Dorian faltered.
“Hadn't what?”
“He tried to change me,” Dorian's voice cracked, and Vivienne put a hand on his shoulder.
“How?”
“With blood magic.”
Arethin went pale. “That could have killed you,” she said. “Controlling someone's mind for that long--”
“Yes, or made me a vegetable. I'm well aware of the risks and so was he.” Dorian's tone was sour.
“And he did it anyway?”
“He did.”
“Are you positive I shouldn't go back and break his jaw?”
“Yes, quite sure,” Dorian rolled his eye.
“I am entirely capable of enacting revenge as well, dear,” Vivienne said.
“So am I, but I don't think we really need to,” Dorian said with a sigh. He looked exhausted. “Not right now. We're busy.” he shook his head. “All this fuss, and I haven't had a paramour in—Maker, Vivienne, you know I haven't had the time, not since...”
“What of that Cadash boy?” Vivienne said.
“Angmar?” Dorian blinked.
Vivienne radiated disapproval. “Dorian, dear, he is in the library practically every day. Do you need him to spell it out with signs?”
“Oh,” Dorian said. “I thought he was just...genuinely interested in magic. He's a dwarf, so I thought--”
Vivienne sighed. “You,” she proclaimed. “Are remarkably out of practice.”
“Do you blame me?”
“You are worse than Lavellan.”
“I beg your pardon?” Arethin said.
“I am not!” Dorian protested. “No one could be as bad as Lavellan.”
“As I recall, Cassandra and I—are what we are—and you, as you mentioned, have no one.”
Dorian snorted. The three of them returned to Skyhold, Halward Pavus left behind, and hopefully, not to bother Dorian again.