This is my Mahanon / Bull story with some added extra tension or reasons for what they do. You know, in case the whole saving the world isn't enough.

The art this story uses is by the very talented Ophiel over on AO3.

The first four chapters take place before the events of Dragon Age Inquisition.

This is being cross-posted from AO3 so hopefully it all formats properly (unlike my other stories, which I'll get around to fixing at some point).

This is a slow-burn story that is plot-centric. Not so much the Inquisition plot (though that does drive the events) but rather original plot. There are a few chapters with BDSM in it, but porn is not the main focus of this story.

Mahanon stalked through the forest without even trying to be stealthy. He probably shouldn't have left, he knew that. He knew that it would likely only lead to more mocking later but he just couldn't tolerate it any more. He had been asleep and felt something crawling. In his dreams, of course, his mind had interpreted it as spiders crawling over him and that was enough to make him wake up with a gasp. Then, with his eyes definitely wide open, he had seen that it was spiders. Two of them.

Mahanon screamed.

He sat up and frantically started brushing and slapping his arm, trying to knock them off without having them bite him. One of the hunters, Kari, heard his scream and came running to ensure he was alright. Seeing that it was just a spider that had woken him, he laughed. And by the time he had emerged from the aravel for breakfast it had spread throughout the camp. He had forced himself not to respond to the laughter and mocking imitations of his morning scream. When even Faerel had laughed at one of the more accurate impersonations of Mahanon, he could tolerate it no more and, rather than start a fight with the whole clan, he had stood and left.

Mahanon dared not go too far. The clan was due to leave soon and he didn't want them to delay it waiting for him to return. There was a small river that they used for water, though the camp itself was hidden a ways from it to be away from any prying shem eyes, and it was there that he went. Bending over he scooped up a thin rock and skipped it down the river. The clan knew of his fear of spiders and most of the time they forgot about it. It was just when stupid things happened like this morning that it came to the fore again. He was a hunter, a Dalish hunter. He was supposed to be content with all nature and, for the most part, he was. But for some reason, ever since he was small, spiders just creeped him out. It wasn't fitting, they said. Nevermind that he was the best damn tracker the clan had, and the fastest with his daggers, they never seemed to be able to forget that one little thing.

Mahanon heard footsteps approaching him and recognised the tread as Faerel's. He didn't bother turning.

"I thought I would find you here," Faerel said as he came up behind him to stand close but not quite touching. "You know they were only having fun."

"Hmmph," Mahanon said. "Always fun at my expense."

"Sure, but they don't mean anything by it. Just as you laugh when I balls up a spell."

The corner of Mahanon's mouth twitched at that, remembering the last time that had happened. Faerel was the clan's First and, generally, quite a skilled mage. Healing was his forte but that also meant he struggled with offensive spells and generally considered it nearly impossible to turn those spells to harming a living being. It went against his healing nature, he said. The last time Faerel had been practicing fireballs just outside the camp. Small ones so that they were easier to control, or something - Mahanon didn't really understand magic. Faerel had cast one and sent it towards the target when a bird had flew across in front of it. Faerel had frantically redirected the fireball - directly into an aravel. Mahanon had teased him about it for days, not for the avoiding to hit a bird - he admired that - but for directing it into an aravel and then being unable to cast the ice needed to put it out instead of directing it to just one of the other targets.

"I guess," he allowed, still a little put out by the whole thing.

Feeling arms slip around his waist, Mahanon turned with a small smile. "I'm all right, really," he said, and he kissed Faerel's forehead. He valued these snatched moments together. The clan did not approve of how close they were. Mahanon, as someone who was not magical, was needed to increase the clan with less risk of creating a mage-born child. Faerel had a little more freedom, but his affairs were closely regulated in other areas. Thankfully though, Mahanon was still considered too young to be paired with a woman yet and likely could avoid that for many years to come. The Keeper would prefer to have Mahanon choose of his own will who he would like to bond with of course. But Mahanon knew it would be unlikely he would be able to find someone willing to allow him his... indiscretions.

"Good. Let's-"

"Shh!" Mahanon cut over him. He thought he heard something.

"What is-"

"Shh!" Mahanon said again, a hand going to cover his mouth this time, lightly, just to make his point. Yes, there it was again. Taking Faerel's hand, he pulled him behind some bushes and crouched down just before some shems wandered into the clearing. Vints. They were laughing and jesting in that brutish tongue of theirs and though they seemed oblivious to how close they were to a Dalish camp, they were armed to the teeth and a threat. Two mages, Mahanon saw, three archers and four swordsmen. Too many for him to take on even if Faerel's offensive magic was predictable. Were it just the four swordsmen he would have chanced it but not with how many there were. Not even he was that good.

They both crouched there silently, hoping that the shems would leave so they could return to the camp and warn them but the more they watched the more it seemed as though they were setting up camp. It was still morning so why they would be stopping now, Mahanon couldn't figure out and, while his human common was passable, he had never bothered to learn the Tevinter tongue so he couldn't tell what was being said, what their reason there could possibly be for coming here at all let alone camping by the river.

Unless... surely they didn't know about the Lavellan camp? That was a disturbing thought. There weren't enough of them to take on the whole camp, of course, but to pick off any hunters as they went out? There were definitely enough for that. And it would be worse if they were slavers.

Hearing Faerel shift his weight, Mahanon rested a hand on his leg trying to will him to stillness. His muscles were cramping as well but it was a familiar feeling to the Hunter; a First had no reason to patiently wait by a trap for their prey.

"We need to go." Faerel's voice was mere breath against Mahanon's ear and Mahanon nodded. Yes, they needed to leave - if the Vints were making camp here then they were bound to be discovered before nightfall and that's provided no one from their camp came looking for them. It was just a matter of how and when.

Mahanon was still holding on to Faerel's hand from when they had darted into the bushes and he gripped it tight, watching the vints as they moved around setting up their camp, getting a feel for their movements as though they were prey Mahanon was hunting. It wasn't quite the same - animals tended to move around where the grazing was good - but there were some similarities. And then...

There!

Making sure his grip on Faerel's hand was tight he leapt up and ran, pulling the First behind him as they ran from the camp. Were it just Mahanon it probably would have worked, but Faerel had had no training in stealth. The noise they made as they crashed through the undergrowth would have alerted even the most unaware people. A shout went up but Mahanon didn't pause.

Then a burst of pain spread from behind his shoulder causing him to stumble and fall, letting go of Faerel's hand as he did so so that he wouldn't be pulled down as well. Faerel only ran a few more steps though before he turned to see Mahanon on the ground.

"Go!" Mahanon shouted. "Warn them, I'll catch up!" He drew his daggers and rolled to his feet. His left arm had blood running down it and his grip wasn't strong enough to be particularly useful but he gripped his dagger as best he could anyway. He had to buy Faerel time, he-

"What the fade are you doing?" Mahanon demanded, feeling healing magic spread over his shoulder. "Go!"

"No," Faerel said, his voice tight with fear but just as much determination.

Growling, sheathing his daggers and drawing a throwing knife, he threw it at the nearest vint, not even pausing to see if it hit before turning and grabbing Faerel's sleeve and running again.

"We have to warn them," Mahanon growled. "You have to warn them or they won't have the chance to get away. I'll hold them off as long as I can and lead them away from you, then flee when I have to. Don't worry about me," he said, trying to be reassuring, flashing a grin.

Faerel nodded and Mahanon let out a silent breath. He drew his daggers again and turned to face them. They had attracted the whole vint camp by now but at least he heard Faerel continuing to run. "Keep running," he whispered.

Seeing one of the swordsmen branch off to try to follow Faerel, Mahanon chose him as his first target. The swordsman was a fast runner, but Mahanon was faster. His bare feet pounded the ground as he closed the distance between them. The swordsman turned. Too slow. Mahanon's daggers sliced across his throat before he could even bring his sword up in defence. Before the body had even hit the ground Mahanon was moving again. An archer who was knocking an arrow to take down Faerel. He wasn't even looking as Mahanon plunged his daggers into his back and, once more moved on. It was as though the shems were moving in slow motion, so fast was Mahanon moving. Maybe he could do this. He would be the envy of the clan if he managed to take them all down on his own, they would never mock his fear of spiders again, he could-

Too slow! A blast of energy struck Mahanon in the chest and blew him backwards. His shoulder clipped a tree trunk as he flipped over. He dropped one of his daggers but it was the left hand one anyway and that didn't have the strength of his right since whatever it was that had hit him to begin with. He dug his remaining dagger into the ground and arrested his movement, then used it to pull himself upright as he charged once more, scooping up his dropped dagger as he went past it.

The mages, he had to take the mages out while he still had the energy to do so, they were the greatest threat to the clan and to himself. Spotting one as it was launching a fireball at his head, Mahanon dodged to the side and felt the heat as it whooshed past. But by then he was on him. Quite literally as he launched himself at the mage and slammed into his chest, knocking the two of them to the ground just in time to avoid an arrow flying past where Mahanon had been. He slammed his daggers into the mage's neck then rolled off him.

Pushing himself away from the choking shem Mahanon's blue eyes cast about for his next target but before he could locate one he was blasted forward by something - lightning - striking his back. Despite himself, Mahanon screamed as it lanced through his body. A heavy weight landed on him then, a swordsman.

"Mahanon!"

Mahanon felt his stomach drop at the familiar voice calling his name. Faerel.

A knee was pinning Mahanon's right arm to the ground but he swung his left arm up, managing to dig his dagger in. The man above him just grunted and slammed the hilt of his sword into the side of Mahanon's head. It was supposed to knock him out, he knew that, but either Mahanon's dagger had weakened him, or his attempt to move his head aside worked just enough so that the blow only stunned him.

Dazed, Mahanon wasn't really able to react when the swordsman got off him and rolled him over onto his stomach, quickly tying his wrists behind his back. With a hand under his shoulder he was half dragged half carried back to the vint's camp. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He could hear fighting still and knew that the fool Faerel was trying to save him. Idiot, he should go back to the clan, get help!

And then the fighting stopped.