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“We are terribly sorry, Inquisitor . . . we've sent word to Orlais to prepare a ceremony . . . if you need anything . . .” Cullen dropped his gaze from Ferron, out of shame and remorse for his leader's loss. It was his fault . . . if only his soldiers had departed sooner. Clan Lavellan was needlessly slaughtered in a move for power, his entire family was caught in the cross fire, leaving Ferron with nothing but a hole in his chest.
Ferron nodded slowly, his eyes hollow and distant. He moved from the War Room, his body feeling numb. He wasn't even sure where he was going, but he somehow ended up in his quarters. He sat down on his bed, gently gripping the sheets to keep himself steady. His mind had slowed to a crawl, his thoughts were unraveling as the thread of his life slipped through his fingers. His mother, his brothers, his friends, everyone was gone.
“I got here as soon as I heard the news.” Dorian swept across the room, pure concern on his face. His voice was light and quick. He dropped to his knees in front of Ferron, placing his hands on Ferron's knees as he angled his head to meet his empty stare. “Ferron . . .” he whispered softly, there was no need to ask if he was okay. It was obvious he wasn't.
Ferron's gaze drifted to Dorian's face. All the pain he tried to hide was beginning to seep through to his body. He didn't want to feel the sudden, sharp aching that pulsed through him. One single tear rolled from his eye, signaling the start of his water works, but he was determined to keep them at bay. He let out a shaky breath before pushing off the bed and practically tackling Dorian to the floor.
Dorian gasped, but it was lost in Ferron's mouth. Their lips clashed together in a needy desperation that came primarily from Ferron. He tore his own clothes off before ripping Dorian's from his body. They rolled, becoming a sweaty mess of primal passion - biting, clawing, and scratching at each other's flesh, vying for any sort of control they could grasp.
“Harder . . .” Ferron growled the command, desperate to feel something other than the raw emptiness that gripped his entire being. He wanted to fill it with the physical pleasure and pain something like sex could cause. Dorian rutted into him, breathing hard through his parted lips. Ferron's cries filled the room, mixing with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and labored breathing.
Ferron tightened his legs around Dorian's hips as his nails dug into his shoulder blades and his teeth clamped down on the curve of his neck. Each jolt of pain he delivered to Dorian encouraged him to pound harder, squeeze tighter, and speak rougher. He was straddling Dorian's hips, so close to his release when tears started trickling from his eyes. “Amatus,” Dorian gasped, feeling the wetness on his cheeks. He pulled their lips apart, trying to look into Ferron's eyes.
“Keep going,” Ferron rasped, constricting wetly around Dorian as he grinded his hips downwards, trying to keep the hurried rhythm. The tears wouldn't stop, mixing with the salty sweat that covered his body. Dorian kissed them away and continued his movements, giving Ferron what he wanted. If this was how he chose to cope, Dorian wasn't going to stop him. It was the least he could do.
Dorian was kissing the red puckered lines he left on Ferron's chest, soothing the slight sting they would leave behind. Ferron's chest heaved under him, riding out the last couple seconds of the only pleasure he would feel for the next couple months. Ferron watched him with hooded eyes, the numbness was subsiding. He closed his eyes tightly as he took in a sharp inhale of breath. His being trembled, trying to hold back the wave of unadulterated anguish that crashed down onto him. “They’re gone . . . my whole life . . . destroyed.”
His voice was shaking with pure anger and pain. Tears pooled from his eyes and slid down his cheeks, leaving red stains in their wake. Dorian moved to be level with his face. It was clouded in sympathy. Dorian could easily read the acute despair on Ferron's face. It shot into Dorian's being, causing a single tear to roll down his cheek. He reflected Ferron's pain like a mirror, harboring it. Dorian kissed his face, catching the stray tears that stuck in the contours of his face. “There are no words to describe how painful this is for you, and I understand. I - I . . . Amatus, I am here unconditionally for you, whatever you need my love - I . . . Anything, just say the word.” He whispered as tenderly as he possibly could. It was all Dorian could offer, and it didn't feel like enough. Nothing ever would be when it came to Ferron's grief. If Ferron needed to distract himself with pleasure or other trivial things, Dorian would do all that is in his power to help. He wanted to offer more, if that was even possible. It pained Dorian to see the man he loved be so broken.
Another sob shook Ferron's body as he covered his eyes with his palms, trying to silence all the hurt he felt bursting inside of his very soul. It was unlike anything he had ever felt. He didn't know what to do - and all he was currently capable of doing was falling apart. He spoke through hysterical sobs, his whole body was burning with harrowing agony. “Just hold me . . .”
Dorian did.