The Redeemer
Chapters: 7/7 + Epilogue
Written for: @falsechaos and @ichigo-otaku for pinch-hitting
By: Nessa_T
Prompt: Spy AU, canon setting. Dorian is an agent
of the Venatori, determined to bring them down from within and joins the
Inquisition as a double agent. Bonus points for covert shenanigans with Bull.
Warnings: Death, Blood, War, Reference to Torture
/ Mutilation, Abuse, Death by Blight
Notes: Inquisitor Adaar sided with the
Templar and did not meet Dorian at the chantry when Felix gave him the note. He
feared ambush from Tevinter, specially when the Redcliffe village was crawling
with them and mages allied with them.
Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5672797/chapters/13068511
The Redeemer
Chapter 1
The dreams returned as always and it was no different tonight.
His hand was pressed against his face, left cheek stinging and lip bleeding where his father had struck him with an open palm. “Get out,” his father had said. “You are no son of mine.”
“Father,” the boy began to say, voice shaking, and tasting copper in his mouth.
Magister Halward turned his face away. Eyes hard and lips pressed together in a grim line. The boy left his father’s study and a part of him died every night since then.
***
Bull had expected the first ball of fire that was flung in his direction. He did not, however, expect it to hurt as much as it did when it singed the top of his shoulder. The inky blackness of the night was momentarily illuminated by the fiery display as the mage, Dorian, dodged and sidestepped away from the Qunari’s grasp.
“Stop it,” the Bull snapped, his voice low and annoyed, one of his hands hovering above the hilt of his axe. If the mage were to charge in his direction, he would be ready to defend himself. His experienced eye narrowed upon the man before him.
“Stay away from me, Bull,” Dorian retorted. His voice was even, yet there was a feverish look in the mage’s eyes that Bull did not like. Eyes wild, breath heavy and hand gripped tightly around his staff – Dorian had the look of a man who was driven to act by keen sense desperation. Desperate men were dangerous men.
“You’re stealing supplies from the Inquisition’s cache,” Bull continued, attempting reason. “We’ve just arrived in Skyhold, and I don’t think Adaar would take lightly to someone stealing from him when there are so many who are in need of them.”
The mage had, upon his person, precious medicine, food and water when Bull caught him sneaking out of the castle hours ago in the middle of the night. Equipped with nothing but a pack containing rations and his staff, Bull had watched with interest from the dark corner of the tavern as the mage cloaked himself with magic and snuck past unsuspecting guards.
Considering that the Inquisitor had left at first light earlier in the day to search for Hawke’s mysterious Grey Warden friend at Crestwood, Bull had figured whatever it was that Dorian had intended to pursue, the mage had taken advantage of Adaar’s absence to do so.
Dorian stood before Bull, back straight and proud while the crystal on his staff glowed ominously in warning.
“It is none of your concern,” Dorian said, his eyes locked onto the Qunari’s, body tense and ready for flight. They stood like that for a few long seconds, eyes to eye, before Bull snarled, ducked his head and charged forward to take him down. “Kaffas!” the mage cried, eyes wide and arm rising to conjure another fiery ball from air.
Yet he was no match against sheer brute force. There was a fierce scuffle and a few balls of fire blazing in the night before Bull finally outmaneuvered the smaller man, pinning him to the ground. Face pressed against the dirt, and arms pinned behind his back, Dorian cursed and swore as he struggled before Bull wrapped an arm around his neck.
Bull squeezed, slowly cutting off the mage’s air supply while Dorian clawed at him, gasping for air and nails raking red grooves upon the Qunari’s arm, face and neck. One minute passed and Dorian slumped unconscious in Bull’s arms.
“Sorry, big guy,” Bull muttered, setting him gently down on the earth before rummaging around in his pack for ropes.
Chapter 2
The dream changed, like a picture of winter transitioning into spring. The boy, now in his teens, was in the brothel in the slums of Minrathous. Head heavy with brandy, body hard and flushed with desire, he stood naked by the bed, watching two elves pleasuring each other.
The door to his room came open with a crash. It was Alexius. The boy raised an eyebrow at the look of disapproval presented before him.
“Ah, lads. We have company. Such a distinguished one too,” he said, giggling as the elves regarded them with some alarm. Then, simpering, he staggered towards the newcomer, wrapping his slender arms around Alexius’s neck.
“You can watch if you like,” he slurred into the older man’s ear, “Or join us. There’s always room for one more.”
Alexius stepped back, sighed and shook his head, tugging at the boy’s earlobe. Not enough to hurt, but enough to chastise. The boy yelped in protest.
“You’re coming home with me, Dorian. Right now.”