It wasnāt unfamiliar for Atreus to be up as the sun rose. It was a little unfamiliar for him to be up hours before that, unable to sleep. He had slipped out of bed early, when it was still dark outside, the Sanctuary under the dim blue glow of the Yggdrasil as he started his morning chores earlier than necessary. Blackwall had opted to take over his side of the bed rather than following him out, also a familiar trend.
This wasn't the first time this week Atreus had done this. The intrusive thoughts had been creeping up on him silently for a little while now, the worry eating away at his brain, the overwhelming slowly seeping into him as he tried to distract, distract, distract.
It only half worked. Sometimes he missed the straightforward drama of an apocalypse.
The sun was up by the time he was slipping back into the house, after taking a dip in the waterfall lake instead of taking a shower indoors. Some habits were hard to break. He got barrelled into by the mastiff as soon as he entered, ruining his stealth. āHey, big guy.ā His smile was a little weak and a little forced as he looked up to seek Dorian out.
When he could, Dorian liked to sleep in. Occasionally it wasnāt possible, however - he had an early morning class, or he was too excited to slumber and wanted to head into the shop right away to have a cup of tea with Gilmore and discuss inventory, their latest projects, or anything they veered off to. Sometimes the cave dwellings of Beketh awaited him and he disappeared into their sanctuary to crack open a dusty tome, one that had been a part of their coven for generations - but Atreus was an early riser and whenever Dorian could catch the sun coming into view, he appreciated that as well. All of those copper hues, blue sky looking like water that could catch fire - heād always loved the beauty of a good sunrise. And a glowing sunset.
He was in the home and Atreus shared, a place theyād expanded upon and where Dorian had recently moved into - heād never really lived with anyone like this before, but felt happy with the decision. The animals, he helped care for them and had Blackwall to wake up beside (easily able to distinguish between Atreusās solid form and panting dog breath - but it was oddly charming), so overall he went through his days and nights and was content. In the small kitchen, he had a fire going, scrambling some eggs in a pan.
āAmatus,ā he smiled at Atreus, a delighted twitch of mustache when he saw his partner. āShall I make you some breakfast?ā
āOh- uh, no thanks.ā Heād gotten over this awkward stage a while back and yet there it was, making Atreus a little twitchy and unsure. No one had ever written manuals about how to have this talk back on old Midgard, there was justā¦ Freya escaping Odin and telling him that story (much more messy than what he was hoping for here) or the forever parting of death (also much more messy than what he was hoping for).
He sat down on the edge of the bed, perched like he was about to run at any moment. That was a bad habit, and he tried to will himself to calm the fuck down. It half worked.
āI wanted to talk to you about something, and I canāt keep putting it off.ā He couldāve, heād done it so far, but there was too much worry and he liked Dorian too much to avoid the topic or even worse - lie about what was going on in his head. He didnāt want that.
āOh?ā Dorian was curious but not particularly alarmed - even if, historically, the I wanted to talk to you about something lead-in almost always never meant anything good. But he couldnāt imagine what it would be - so he simply squelched the fire (although Atreus not wanting food was kind of disconcerting) and transferred eggs to a wooden plate, setting it down.
He carefully smoothed the shirt he had on - it was something comfortable beneath a dapper vest, and heād even put on a tie and dress pants for his upcoming appointments today; it was always important to look oneās best. āIām listening.ā
And he was. Blackwall joined them and nudged his hand, looking for scraps perhaps - or attention. Knowing the giant mastiff, probably both - so Dorian gave in, petting between his ears.
Atreus had watched enough movies by this point to know that there were pretty standard cues a lot of humans tended to go through, but he didnāt want to be like that. To just rattle off something unemotional and cold. He raked a hand over his face and made a little noise.
āIāve been feeling pretty overwhelmed lately. Just-- about a lot of things, about people leaving, and about Vallo being temporary but not. About how long Iāve been here and-- about how long I have leftā¦ anywhere. Everywhere. Iāve been thinking a lot about home lately.ā He missed it, in a way, which was funny considering that Ragnarƶk was not the sort of thing people would want to miss.
But a lot of things were more simple there, his path was clear cut and set out for him there. Atreus looked up at Dorian, forehead all creased and dimpled with worry. āI need a break, I think, from this? From trying to keep my head in a relationship. Iām sorry.ā
What?
Honestly - what? Dorian felt like heād been slapped. It would have been better if Atreus did slap him; stinging cheeks could recover easier than stinging pride, than a heart that was beginning to wilt like a piece of sad lettuce or melted wax. Tears pricked at his lashes but he swallowed thick enough, a few times, to try to keep them at bay - heād been told countless times to not show emotion, that it would only get him killed in a place like Tevinter where vipers were raised from the cradle but here it was different and heād been happy. Accepting of himself, and no longer burdened by obligation or held back by what other people thought was best for him.
āHow long is...lately?ā he managed to ask, because Atreus had seemed happy too. Happy enough to expand his home so they could both share a living space. Dorian couldnāt decide what would be worse - if Atreus had deceived him about where their relationship was headed (subsequently going along with renovations if his heart wasnāt in it) or if it suddenly just came out of nowhere and the knee-jerk reaction to this feeling was to demolish Dorianās self-esteem and figuratively stab him in the gut with a breakup sword.
Kratos had said similar to Atreus, to tell him that showing emotion was a weakness reserved for others. But Atreus had never listened to that voice, heād always disagreed, always been the one to let himself feel deeply. He wiped away a tear that fell on his cheek, but let a few more just settle their way down.
āA few weeks? Iāve been ignoring it and just- hoping it would go away because I donāt want to ruin this, I donāt-ā want to hurt you, fell before it hit his lips, because Atreus knew that was a hope he couldnāt escape. Even if it was true, Dorian didnāt deserve this, he only deserved the best.
He sucked in a shuddering breath, it was shaky with emotion and the tears that were still creeping down his face slowly. āI just donāt really know what else-ā He wanted to just keep saying sorry but he knew that wouldnāt change anything or help.
A few weeks. A few weeks. That could be anything from three to six to eight. Dorian couldnāt claim that he knew everything about how relationships worked - but he sort of wished that Atreus had said something sooner. Maybe there would have been nothing to work out or salvage in the end, but communicating about it would have at least given them a chance - they could have tried. Either way, it seemed a much more viable option than letting Dorian move in and then, soon after, telling him in not so many words that he had to leave.
That their relationship was over.
Tombstone grey eyes (fitting, perhaps, for a Necromancer) remained focused on the floor because he could scarcely fathom even looking at Atreus right now, and he dabbed at his wet lashes with the sleeve of his shirt - not becoming, but he hadnāt thought to grab a handkerchief from someplace. āWell, I suppose I donāt know either,ā he replied tiredly. āIām a little...surprised though.ā
That was an understatement. āYou didnāt feel comfortable talking to me when this first started becoming an issue for you? You - opted to ignore it?ā How in the name of the Maker was that going to help anything.
Atreus kept his eyes averted for similar reasons, he looked down at Blackwall, at the floor, at the wall. He was fidgety and unsure, but determined to answer what he could, because he owed Dorian that at the very least.
āI didnāt know, I just- Iāve never done this before.ā Not just this, the breaking up, the heartbreak, but the relationship itself. It was his first of anything that had even been more than two dates. This was uncharted territory for the demi-god. Talks with Torunn and his father had only solidified that, but it was uncharted territory for them too.
His head dropped. āI shouldāve said something earlier, I just didnāt know how, or if it was just nerves, or if it would pass. This is new to me, and I just-ā Atreus let his voice drop away, his tone quiet and soft. āI donāt think itās for me. Not right now. Iām sorry.ā
Dorian didnāt know what to say to that. The fact that Atreus didnāt think much of their relationship, enough to want to even try to save it or work things out as he began to question things - that stung in ways that he had hoped to never experience again; it was an old ache that tugged at the strings of his memory and made him feel about two inches tall.
It was natural for a relationship to change or go through stages but to simply end it all of a sudden - did he ever even love Dorian at all, like he said he did? When you loved someone you were honest. You put in effort, didnāt you?
Yes, you did, which was why he was still in shock - because prior to this damning conversation, Atreus had been very involved with doing what he could to make Dorian happy and the opposite was also true. It had been an easy give and take, or at least - he once believed it was. āIf itās not for you then - I suppose thatās that,ā he said, a touch flabbergasted. He still didnāt understand how āIāve been feeling overwhelmed and thinking about homeā translated to āthis may be a fine time to end our relationshipā but.
Fine. He wasnāt going to beg and plead for something that could so easily be tossed away like garbage. His heart was broken but his dignity didnāt have to be completely shattered too.
āBlackwall, come,ā he called to the dog, who trotted closer on big paws - a bulky body and a jangling collar. Dorian clipped his leash, movements on autopilot - he wasnāt sure where theyād go but they both needed to find a new home. First theyād go for a walk and Dorian would likely head for Skyhold - outside, enveloped in the comfort of the forest, he could cry in peace too. āI will return later to collect my things. It would be easier if you werenāt here for that,ā he spoke evenly. He would do it himself, perhaps see if Max or Gilmore wouldnāt mind assisting as well.
āI can--ā What could he do, at this point? Heād done enough, he knew that. Atreus swallowed back the need to be helpful, to try and fix things immediately. He was going to offer to be the one to leave, though his hand reached out to brush across Blackwallās hair as the mastiff went past him to Dorian. When Blackwall was past him, and out of his reach, his hand fell down next to him to brace on the bed.
He had a distinct feeling he wouldnāt be able to sleep here for a while anyway.
āOkay.ā He eventually settled on the word, even as nothing felt okay. Mimir or Father would tell him time would settle all wounds and he would feel better after some of it had passed - a pinhead in the amount of time he would experience in his life, unless things went sour back home. But he had no other words at the moment, not really. It felt like he was just going through the motions now, shutting down so that he would stop feeling that distinct stab of loss and guilt.
He didnāt want to just leave it at okay, but other words would probably not be helpful. Heād said sorry multiple times, also not helpful. But he couldnāt bring the words out that would fix it in the way Dorian wanted. āIāve got a lot of work, Iāll stay out of your way.ā For a while. For as long as he needed.
āVery well,ā Dorian replied stiffly and there was so much he wanted to say - something profound, something affectionate, something caring. Because he truly did love Atreus - but that likely didnāt matter now and he also couldnāt put a voice to those words. Not when he felt so angry, so used (had all of this been just so Atreus could decide he didnāt care for relationships?), so rejected. Perhaps they could talk later - maybe even become friends in the end. But he could not fathom it at the moment and didnāt want to be friends either; it had been different with Max, who loved him too but their personal goals and ambitions didnāt allow for a relationship, especially while Dorian was so caught up in Tevene politics, and they mutually agreed upon the decision to amicably move forward as friends. This - was not that.
Thus, he said nothing further. He simply left with Blackwall - and he didnāt get very far out past the borders of the Sanctuary before he let himself shed the tears heād been holding in. Quiet sobs, like whispers, like when heād been a child and had been trying hard not to cry because his mother and father reiterated that he was never supposed to do that.
Well, he did it plenty now. Eventually he had to stop and let Blackwall nudge against his hand, sitting by a tree with Dorian dirtying his fine clothes - but that was alright. Heād get all of this emotion out, find a way to carry on. He always did.