Beauty Lavellan& The Iron Beast

by Nymph Aoede

A long way from home, destined to save the world; but you can't survive without someone to trust. Lavellan found a new family in the Inquisition, and someone especially exotic seemed to have caught her eye - at first a joke, then a crush, then something more. Follow fem! Inqui's adventures through the plot of Dragon Age: Inquisition as she accidentally falls in love with the Bull.

1. Bull's Chargers

BEAUTY LAVELLAN & THE IRON BEAST

/ Tale as old as time \
True as it can be
Barely even friends,
Then somebody bends
\ Unexpectedly. /

{author's note: Welcome to my DA:I fanfic! Based on the Lavellan/Iron Bull romance, I wanted to start it all over since the very beginning, to add more details to the scenes and help flesh out Arte'mys as a character. She's supposed to be a quirky Dalish elf, a little immature, a little timid but very compassionate. I love the RPing aspect of the game, and I had too many ideas, so I decided to write them down. I hope this is an enjoyable read for others, as well. The story will skip quite a bit - mostly to the parts where they actually interact, but I will keep some scenes that I really liked, even if they're not romance-centered, if I think they're good for building character. By the end of the story, I hope that I'll manage to portray development in both Bull and Lavellan. There will be parts only revolving around Lavellan, and others only around Bull. Short summaries of events that happen between the skips will be added, because I would like to keep some sense of continuity, even with the choppy scenejumps! I do use actual scenes from the game, so it might be boring if you're here only for new content. There will be original scenes, but not quite yet. I want to get some of the chemistry between them first. Rambling over! Leave a review if you have any pointers or thoughts. Much appreciated! Recommended format for best layout: 1/2.

PS: I'm new to the Dragon Age universe, and still a huge noob regarding the lore/history/races etc. If you see any mistakes, please notify me! }

Everything was quite chaotic. Between being denounced as heretics, walking under a torn sky, and the devastating conflict between the Mages and Templars, trying to do justice and fix the world could prove to be quite the task.

After gathering around the war table for a brief meeting in the Chantry, the Council dispersed into different directions, tending to their respective duties. The Herald was the last to leave, the other members already ahead of her line of sight as she stepped outside. "Excuse me", an unfamiliar voice cut through the messy bundle of thoughts in the Dalish's head, before turquoise orbs met the figure of a man clad in heavy armour. "I have a message for the Inquisitor, but I'm having a hard time trying to get anyone to talk to me."

Being accosted by a stranger wasn't news to Arte'mys Lavellan anymore; she had met more new faces in the past month than she had seen trees in the forest of her homeland – and, Andruil knew, there were a lot of trees in the patch of New March that she grew up in. One thing she had learned since joining the Inquisition was to always ask for identification, no matter how harmless or approachable they looked.

The young man presented himself as Cremisius Aclassi, on behalf of a mercenary company entitled ''Bulls Chargers'. He has such a pleasant voice, the elf thought. So refreshing and respectful. An odd thing to focus on, but she tried not to get distracted. Her attention fell onto the purpose of his travel to Haven, something about Tevinter gathering out on the Storm Coast.

"My company commander, Iron Bull, offers the information free of charge. If you'd like to see what the Bull's Chargers can do for the Inquisition, meet us there and watch us work."

Upon further questioning, to which Aclassi responded kindly, it seemed that their mercenary group was led by a Qunari. As soon as he mentioned horns, interest spiked up. I've heard about them in tales as a girl...! To be able to meet one is just as exciting as it is unnerving.Childish curiosity still made its way into her personality; not very helpful in the midst of a war and the entire Thedas falling apart.

The soldier spoke highly of his leader, which was encouraging, following with a claim that they could prove useful for the Inquisition, given their level of skill and loyalty. It could have very well been all lies, but… somehow, she felt he was being honest. The Tevinter were causing problems, and the information served more than useful. The Inquisition at least owed the Chargers a helping hand, since the threat was a common enemy. A few moments of pondering, and the decision was made. "We accept your offer", the Herald spoke, as the emissary gave a small smile before his departure. "Come see us in action."

[x]

The Storm Coast was, as the name implied, not a very sunny place. The journey was surprisingly peaceful, save for the few greedy bandits, a group of violent Templars that had been blinded by anger and innocent civilians that were offered help under the banner of the Inquisition, steering round of most conflicts so that their mission would not be delayed for long. Upon arrival, the assigned scout that had been deployed beforehand, a fair, young Dwarven girl named Harding, disclosed the fact that some of her underlings had gone missing. Bull's Chargers had to wait; all men who worked for the Inquisition's cause were equally important, and not disposable puppets. A rescue was in order.

It came as a surprise how little of a challenge it had been to track down and completely wipe a settling clean of notorious bandits, finding Harding's scouts and returning to base camp by nightfall. As the Dalish woman finished tending to her two daggers, washing off the blood and polishing the blades, she nested into her tent and lay down to get some rest. Tomorrow is the big day. I finally get to meet him. Iron Bull. Such a peculiar name… or a nickname, perhaps? She only hoped they would turn out to be good people, as Cremisius had declared on their meeting, a couple of weeks prior. I hope I don't forget to stop staring at the horns. I'd love to wrap flowered ivy around them… It would look very pretty. I doubt I'll find any flowers here, though.Hand reaching out through the dark. A little self-smack on the cheek. Ah! Behave. Enthusiasm continued to build up inside Arte'mys, different scenarios playing out in her mind, one more ridiculous than the other, as she slowly fell prey to the exhaustion of battle and travel. "I wonder what father would say", was the last disturbance of silence that filled her tent, muttered under her breath. She slumbered away into the surrounding darkness until the early light of dawn struck through the heavy, grey clouds to announce the beginning of another day.

The party was up soon enough; Cassandra and Solas were the first to wake, preparing quietly for departure. Varric following tiredly, sharing some light-hearted banter with Seeker Pentaghast. "It's too early in the morning to compete with the ramblings of a little Dwarf", the Seeker retorted, turning her attention to the Herald. "Are you ready to go? "she questioned, her voice characteristically steady and astute. Weapons sheathed and fastened, coat buttoned and braids held into place with a few hidden pins: "I'm ready. Let's go."

The meeting point had been established just by the shore, where the mercenaries had set camp. However, the more the Herald's party approached, the louder the cries of battle seemed to pierce the air. "Seems like there is trouble up ahead. Caution would be advised." Solas, the apostate, always offered wise suggestions and tamed her immaturity. Lavellan appreciated his support; while they disagreed over the Dalish gods, she found comfort in his care. She remembered him calling her graceful – and not shying away from other polite compliments. He eluded her and easily swayed her with his way of speech, but she wasn't certain what to think of his unnatural obsession with the Fade. It was tempting to come closer to him, but something in her being almost screamed not to. It was a strange feeling; like an unspoken premonition, so she kept their relationship platonic, a warm friendship. "They may need our help. Let's head on, be careful. I'll go into stealth, then flank them from behind" Arte'mys spoke, taking a small bottle out of a pocket attached to her belt, a few drops of poison hissing as they met the metal of her daggers." Cassandra will draw their attention. Solas, if you catch them in your ice spell, they're done for." They all gave affirmative nods, agreeing with the strategy – except for Varric, the Dwarf marksman, who looked slightly offended. "Aren't you forgetting something?" "Just stay with Solas and do what you do best; aim." "Gotcha."

Overall, it went well – the Herald's party assisted the Chargers in defeating the Tevinter group within a short amount of time, suffering no casualties on their end. A few of the mercenaries were injured, but there had been no deaths, Cremisius announced. Lavellan was torn away from her colleagues as she searched for the source of the voice she liked – in an instant, she knew who he was talking to. It was certainly him…!

No sooner than later, she was finally facing the mercenary band's leader: the Iron Bull. Well-built was an understatement; his figure had been earned through uncontestably hard work, strong muscles standing as firm confirmation of how much physical power he held. He was more than tall, as she heard Qunari being compared to Giants before; reaching well above her stature. Next to his large frame, she resembled a frail, tiny rodent being overlooked by a terrifyingly large bear. The Qunari had distinctive ashen skin and coaled horns that resembled those of a dragon. She took his appearance in with great bewilderment, despite trying to hide it from the others. The female elf stepped closer, approaching him slowly. The closer she went, the more details unravelled. Iron Bull's face was heavily scarred, his dark facial hair complimenting the paleness of his features well. A black, leathered patch covered his left eye, adding to the incredibly intimidating aura that he possessed. More markings of old wounds graced his exposed chest. His body was clad in armour she hadn't seen before, a variation to the defender armour, with one shoulder covered by a large leather piece fastened with a strap across the front. A thick belt wrapped around his waist, continued by what looked like… puffy pants! It was such an exotic appearance for the girl; she had been used to the elven robes (even the human robes weren't as surprising anymore), but the contrast between their cultures was visible. A single similarity seemed to have been their pointed ears – 'knife ears', as they were rudely referred to by humans, sign of an insult. She found it clever, more than anything. When she was within viewing range, he addressed her almost instantly. "So, you're with the Inquisition, huh? Glad you could make it. Come on- have a seat. Drinks are coming!"

Lavellan didn't get to muster a reply – Bull moved to one of the closest boulders, massive and lean enough to sit on. Lavellan only followed wordlessly, watching as he made himself comfortable and awaited his beverage. The waves crashed relentlessly into the cold sand behind her, the breeze bringing a gush of chill that tickled her exposed neck. It was a rocky area, blending in well with the lack of colours overall. Nature had always been impressive to Arte'mys, in all of its states. Although the backdrop was gloomy, it was quite peaceful. "I assume you remember Cremisius Aclassi, my lieutenant", the horned man spoke up. "Good to see you again." The familiar face of the young soldier joined them. After exchanging a few rough words, 'soldier talk', and issuing a repeated search for any escapees, they were alone again.

"So, you've seen us fight. We're expensive, but we're worth it." A small chuckle erupted from his throat." And I'm sure the Inquisition can afford us." Already getting into business. She almost foolishly forgot there would be expenses. Composing herself, she readied for whatever demands would follow – she had to be ready to analyse them and decide if it was worth it or not, and how to refuse or accept accordingly. "How much is this going to cost me, exactly?" the elf inquired, holding her ground. No matter how small or abashed she felt, she needed to stand on her own two feet. She wouldn't back away and be useless, like she was back home. She was a symbol to Haven – the Herald of Andraste. People believed in her… she had to believe in herself. The Iron Bull, however, seemed to be more dismissive of the tension, discussing openly. "It wouldn't cost you anything, personally. Unless you wanna buy drinks later." A flirtation? A friendly invitation? Already, he was being so familiar. She had been instructed since young to not be too easy-going around those she didn't know, especially other races. Not out of hate, but out of caution… The Elves had a bruised reputation because of the subjugation of their people into slavery, and the Dalish preferred to live in seclusion as a result. They preferred independence and governing themselves, living in peace and preserving their old traditions as best they could. Even if her clan was more accepting and it had bloomed because of the trading with humans, they were still wary and preferred to keep to their own. Once in a while, young elves would crave exploring the rest of the world, but it was viewed with animosity by their clans. Arte'mys had always been loyal to her family, and was one of the daughters of her clan's apothecary. Even if most Dalish were knowledgeable of plants and their effects, there was always a family line of specialists who passed on everything they knew through every generation, in order to better understand the wild. They were considered masters of poisons and potions alike, which helped her as a rogue. Although she preferred combat, she was still well-acquainted with an apothecary's teachings.

"We'll go through your Ambassador. Gold will take care of itself, don't worry about that. All that matters is we're worth it." Time for critical thinking to be put into action. He talked so easily about it, like it was nothing. It was true that the Inquisition had already gathered a decent amount of funds, but the Qunari seemed too sure of himself. Trying to divert me. No actual sum mentioned.He followed with another casual laugh, fully convinced that she would accept before even hearing an answer. Very confident… and charming, in a sense. I'm sure he's well-aware of it, too.She had to take into consideration that they seemed very organized, they made a good case for themselves and they were efficient as far as she could tell. Perhaps the carefree attitude was a consequence of years of experience. They could definitely use more manpower on the field. If the Inquisition was going to resolve the terrible war going on, chances had to be taken and good men had to be hired. Hope lingered in her heart as she formulated her reply. "The Chargers seem like excellent company", she spoke amiably. "They are", he injected with assurance, "but you're not just getting the boys. You're getting me. You need a frontline bodyguard, I'm your man." He raised from his seat, hovering over the elf, then passing by her as he carried himself forward, drops of salted water nearing him in the air. She backed out of his way, her vibrant eyes following him.

"Whatever it is – demons, dragons – the bigger, the better." You could hear the grin of anticipation in his voice. Lavellan could almost feel herself buying into his guarantees; something about him definitely made it feel safe to be around – either the skilled fighters he led, the massive figure, the horns, or the great trust in himself and his company as he presented their offer.

"And there's one other thing;" he continued, "Might be useful, might piss you off. Ever hear of the Ben-Hassrath?" Was she supposed to? She knew little of the outside world as it was, but thankfully, she seemed to recall overhearing Cullen and Cassandra discussing them one time. Not that she retained much from that…Don't overextend the pause from obvious lack of information – keep going. "A little. They're a Qunari organization, right? The equivalent of their guards?" "I'd go closer to spies, but, yeah, that's them." It was Iron Bull's turn to pause. He seemed slightly uncertain, for the first time since they had started talking. "Well, us." The last word was accentuated…What was he saying? He was… a spy? Continuing, he explained that the Ben-Hassrath were concerned about the Breach, and that he had been ordered to infiltrate the Inquisition and get close to those in charge, in order to formulate reports for the higher-ups. "But I also get reports from agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, I'll share them with your people."

It was a lot to take in – one didn't just meet a spy who openly admitted it every other day. Curiosity got the best of her as she posed her queries; it was always good to know the ones you were supposed to work with. "You're a Qunari spy, and you just… told me?" she questioned awkwardly, not sure what to make of the sudden reveal. "Whatever I am, I'm on yourside." In hindsight, he could had hidden what he was… and she spoke that thought out loud, pressing into the matter. It was too strange. It needed to be sorted out. "From something called the Inquisition? Heh. I'd've been tipped sooner or later. Better you hear it right up front from me." An honest spy? The conversation only seemed to get weirder the more it progressed. After further diving into the matter, it seemed that he wouldn't compromise their operations and would keep the Ben-Hassrath at arm's length, disclosing all information to our spymaster, Leliana – he had done his research on us. In a way, it was good to work with such an organization, even if they were still very much mysterious, and to receive reports in exchange disclosing crucial information of enemy activity or suspicions was a good advantage. A mutually beneficial arrangement would grow. Perhaps it was the right choice. The Qunari agent and the Herald agreed upon safe-proofing the reports he sent; and so, the Chargers joined the forces of the Inquisition, hopefully for the better.

[x]

Missions were progressing – although slowly, but surely, the Inquisition was spreading as more areas got marked on the unfolded map across the war table. Some were being killed, but many were being saved. Casualties were unavoidable; it was the midst of a war, after all. The world was crumbling, and its fate rested upon the Herald's shoulders – the one blessed by the Maker, sent by Andraste, to close the rifts and seal the demons away with the mysterious Mark on her hand. Did she really believe she was sent by a divinity? The Chantry had spanned the word of their religion over all the lands, but the Dalish kept to their ancient Elven gods. Andruil was her personal favourite – the Goddess of the Hunt. She was the one she resonated with the most, being assigned as a rogue, she did a lot of recon and took part in hand-to-hand or melee combat, knowing how to strike from the shadow and weaken her opponent without taking too much damage herself. She was a hunter in her own right. It was due to her merits being recognized that she was sent to overlook the peace debates at the Conclave… And it had led much further than she had ever expected. So far away from her family. There was no choice to be made; the Breach was a problem for all, not just the humans. If she could save her people, she would. Lavellan nostalgically admired the old gods, and prayed that the Elves would be restored to greatness… All that she was doing musthave been helping all of her race, in a way. An Elf, a Dalish'savage', no less, was going to be the world's saviour. The opportunity was too great, even if it put even more responsibility onto her shoulders, she would carry it out with pride and bring better days for the Elves. One day she would return to the rich woods and rushing rivers of her home; but for now, she had a duty to them.

It was nearing lunch time. The Inquisition core staff was all present in Haven, having soldiers, emissaries or spies out on the field to fulfil necessary requirements. After helping villagers around town and depositing material gathered in prior expeditions to help craft better equipment for their forces, Arte'mys wondered down the stairs, passing the tall gates and reaching the stables. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the Qunari, watching Commander Cullen as he trained their recruits, Cassandra training by his side. A little break was in order… perhaps she could spare some time for a chat.

Iron Bull was easy to talk to, as much as he was difficult – he was generally nonchalant about his past, opening up to the elf about the way the Qunari were raised and educated, and giving her more information on their culture, but dodging what he willed, making no way for insisting. She listened with interest, appreciating how responsive he was to her poking. One thing led to another, and a certain topic was reached. The Qunari did not marry, nor did they partake in serious relationships. To them, sex was just a sport, just a way to blow off steam. Past her teenage years, the young woman had experienced a couple of relationships, mostly friendships among the rogue assembly back home that turned into something more, something fun. She had experienced love, even in such a puerile form. The topic was intimate, to her, but not at all for him. He spoke of it as he would of eating or sleeping, with no inhibitions. Her wanderings were, no doubt, playful – she could hardly even imagine laying with such a huge man. It made the little minx in her curious, however. She tried not to give into a sheepish smile, in order to seem more mature. "So… you've never made love? Connected with someone, both body andsoul?" Although she hadn't really met the love of her life, the boys she did engage with were close friends; they knew each-other well; their childhood antics, their parents, their favourite foods, sharing the best hunting spots, bickering and caring for each-other. Their souls were put into the relationships, no matter how short or childish they had been. They were young, and feelings burned bright… that's what made it a thrill for her. That burning flame, in the heart, not in the crotch. "I… don't know." His grave, raspy voice trailed off. "There was this time… there was a rod…" a detailed explanation followed about a peculiar 'tool' that the elf had never heard about," also, there were more than two people." Laughter couldn't be contained, even earning a distraught and slightly judgemental glance from the Seeker at the training grounds. His words got lost through the bright echoes of her voice, resuming to a grunt and a small smile as he listened to the elf's honeyed tones of joy blending out into the rest of the surrounding chatter. They continued talking for a while, and, as days passed, they shared more laughs and stories. He was a good storyteller, and she was a good listener. Even if not as rowdy and rough as him, she was enjoyable company, and made it easier for him to raise his weapon in the name of their cause. She really did want to help the world get back on its feet. Even if the Inquisition had no leader, she was starting to look like a plausible option. She wasn't the strongest, or the most stoic, but her heart was in the right place. He saw something in the little elf woman – something he hadn't seen in a while. Hope, perhaps. Or maybe it was just one too many pints.