Let me give a big shout out to Paragadesluster for being the best Beta ever! Without them this story wouldn't have made it this far. Please go read their amazing works. Especially if you like Cullen or Cassandra. Which I'm sure you do.
For a photo of the Inquisitor's appearance, see here (just fill in the spaces and take "()" from the "com" away)- pastelpinkkadan. tumblr.(com/) post/ 170172566357/ this-is-my-inquisitor-joel-trevelyan-look-at
Comments, suggestions, and critiques are all appreciated! Thank you!
1. Shoulders
The first time it happened, Joel hadn't thought much of it. Or that it would be a repeated occurrence.
It was obvious to anyone with even the most limited vision that The Iron Bull was a massive man. While the Inquisitor had never considered himself a small man, in comparison, he might as well have called himself a dwarf. This was not a negative factor, though. In fact, over the last few months Joel had begun to thoroughly enjoy the height difference.
Looking up at someone, looking up at Bull specifically, had lit a strange fire within his stomach. Normally he would be able to gaze at a person straight in the eyes, or tilted his chin downward in some cases. Yet with Bull, he had to look up. And, more interesting than that, Bull had to look down.
Being held by such an intense, steady gaze had intimidated him at first. Which had surprised Joel; his noble background had taught him that few could hold such power over him. He wasn't a particularly prideful person, but he would be the first to admit that the Trevelyans didn't back down easily. Him agreeing to be with the Inquisition and accepting the title of Herald was proof of that. Which was why Joel had often paused when talking to the Qunari at first, having to pick and choose his words lest he sound completely ridiculous. His mind simply short-circuited around the man. It wasn't until much later that he truly understood why.
The Hinterlands were nothing excessively difficult to get around. Nice forests, a few hills, and long expansions of flat land. Joel found it even sometimes pleasant, when templars or rebel mages weren't trying to kill them and loot their corpses.
Joel, Bull, Cassandra, and Varric were on their way to Redcliffe, hopping to talk with Grand Enchanter Fiona about the rebel mages. It was a troubling situation and finding a solution in which everyone could be happy was supposedly impossible. Yet they had to try. Joel could not stand back and let his fellow mages continue to die nor watch as innocent people got caught in the crossfire. There was a better way, he truly believed that. They simply had to find it.
"I hope you are not putting all of this into one of your books, Varric," Cassandra murmured, displeasure evident in her tone.
"You aren't that interesting, Seeker," Varric quipped in return.
Joel generally tried not to have the two of them together for too long when they went out on missions. Bickering was always the result. It was mildly entertaining, he had to admit. He barely hid the smile on his face as he spoke, having a teasing edge to his normally composed tone.
"Do I have to separate you two? I will use magic."
Cassandra merely rolled her eyes, but if she had actually been offended Joel knew she wouldn't have given much of a response at all. That was a good sign.
"You can try," the Seeker said, her attentions no longer on Varric. Which had been Joel's goal, of course.
"Don't tempt me. I recently learned how to encase someone completely in ice. You'd be a Seeker icicle."
"Now that I'd like to see," Bull huffed out, bold laugh accompanying his words. Cassandra scoffed and Varric murmured something about 'story material' under his breath.
Joel made to add that he was, of course, joking when he spotted a familiar plant. On top of a small hill grew a patch of Elfroot. They were running a bit low on regenerative potions, the Elfroot long gone from his inventory. Not to mention the growing need for them back at Haven for the ever increasing refugees of this damned rebellion. Given the risky path to Redcliffe, it wouldn't be a bad idea to grab more supplies.
"Hold a moment," Joel said suddenly, his deeper voice calm as he made his way to the hill. Rocks surrounded the hill, and he attempted to walk up them before slipping back down to the ground quickly. Alright, jumping it was. If his siblings could see him now, he thought wryly. He could practically hear his older sister's voice in his head. 'You can't hold your head high while jumping like a fool, Joel.' He thanked the Maker for his family's helpful but very distant support of the Inquisition.
Sighing, the mage put his staff down to the ground and leapt towards the plant, vainly reaching towards the large rocks for handholds. Once again, he slipped backwards, this time falling on his backside.
He could hear Varric chuckle in response. "Need help there, Bright Eyes?" the dwarf asked, the words rolling off his lips teasingly.
Joel's 'bright eyes' did not dignify Varric's sarcasm with any response as he got up. The first time they had truly talked after settling down in Haven, Varric had commented on just how bright green his eyes were. Too bright, even. The dwarf had asked if magic was at play, but the mage quickly shot down that musing with a laugh. He didn't need anyone getting the wrong idea that he would be so vain to use magic for something that came naturally. Joel had his mother's same vivid, green eyes. If a rumor of anything otherwise somehow reached her she would come down to Haven herself, pulling him by his ear all the way home.
Varric had shrugged, laughed lightly, and the nickname came soon after. He stated that Joel could have maidens falling at his feet with those bright eyes of his, if he could ever peel himself away from his books. That was unlikely, though. Just because the Circles were gone did not mean Joel's thirst for knowledge had disappeared with them. More often than not, Joel found himself using candlelight to read into the long hours of the night rather than drinking at the small tavern. Books didn't judge your flirting skills, or lack thereof.
"I'm not letting you climb on my shoulders, Varric," Joel answered, feeling heat begin to spread over his cheeks. Thank the Maker he had thought to grow a beard - he wasn't a fan of his fair skin mimicking the fire red color of his hair. Looking like a tomato only had so many advantages.
"How about you get on mine, then?"
The words had barely reached the mage's ears before his sense of balance was thrown off. Sharp horns were the first thing Joel registered as he was pulled backwards. His instincts kicked in and he grabbed the closest horn to help him gain back some control. He hated being surprised.
His hips were surrounded by two, large hands that practically engulfed him. They pulled and lifted him, setting him down on a warm, sturdy shoulder.
The Iron Bull's shoulder.
Joel's right hand curled around the horn, his other hand gripping the mass of Bull's shoulder for support. Just as Joel gained some semblance of balance, the Qunari stood up.
The increased height was dizzying. Joel's breath left him instantly, a sharp gasp released from his lips. He did not dare move, his fear of falling off quite real. Joel's knuckles turned white on the hand that wrapped steadily around Bull's horn.
Both of Iron Bull's massive hands gripped the mage's thighs tightly, keeping him steady. The heat that radiated from them sent a shiver down Joel's spine. He had never been so close to the Qunari. Surely he could feel every tremor that Joel's body emitted.
If Joel's face had been burning before, it was a house fire by now.
"Bet you can reach it now," Bull uttered, his voice so gravel deep it was almost a purr. And Joel could feel it. He could feel every single damn vibration of Bull's voice and the barest inch that his muscles moved as he held the mage up.
Joel's nails dug into the Qunari's tougher skin, yet Bull did not seem to notice. Instead, he looked ahead expectantly, causing Joel to focus back on the Elfroot that was now directly in front of his face. Perhaps if he had been less flustered and more observant he would have seen the small, barely there smirk that graced The Iron Bull's lips.
Slowly, the mage reached out. His fingers touched the Elfroot and with one hard yank he freed the plant, its roots tearing easily from the earth.
"Got it," Joel murmured. His voice was softer than he wanted it to be, more of a croaked whisper than his usual steady lilt. His brow furrowed, for once unsure of how to react properly. He still couldn't move an inch from where he was placed on Bull's shoulder. If he moved surely everything would fall apart. That's how it felt, at least. With the added height came an obvious lack of control. He had to trust Bull not to drop him, and Joel didn't like giving people the opportunity to let him down. In this case, literally.
The idea of being put back down on the ground, though, left a surprisingly sour taste in his mouth. That couldn't be a normal response. What was wrong with him?
He could not remember the last time he had been in such a position. Not since he was a child, at least. Joel was considered the type of person who lifted others on his shoulders. He was never the one being lifted.
Apparently Bull had not gotten the memo.
With the Elfroot safely in his hands, Bull turned them around to face Cassandra and Varric. The Seeker's eyes had widened marginally in obvious shock, but little else marred her features to give a hint of her thoughts. Varric, unfortunately, was quite open about his amusement.
"How's the view from up there?" the dwarf asked.
Joel swallowed dryly, a snippy reply on the tip of his tongue. Yet no words left him, his mind focusing on the warmth spreading through his entire body in ways he couldn't have anticipated. His skin seemed to vibrate with awareness and something else he couldn't quite name.
Not trusting his voice, the mage instead threw the Elfroot at Varric, who caught it easily enough even with the vicious force behind it.
"View's pretty good from where I am."
Joel froze once more, Bull's gruff, unbearably appealing voice stealing any thoughts of wit he might have had. Unable to help himself any longer, the mage finally looked down at his Qunari 'ladder'. One, slightly narrowed eye stared right back at him. Joel felt pleasantly trapped in that intense gray gaze. Somehow lighter. As if he truly weighed nothing at all. And it wasn't Bull's physical strength that made him feel this way. It was something more. Something unnamable.
When Bull said 'view' had he meant…?
A sudden, purposeful cough destroyed the moment like a glass bowl falling off the counter.
"Bull, would you put the Herald down? We have much ground to cover before we reach Redcliffe. I have no wish to be out in the open after dark."
Cassandra's tone was sturdy, but not harsh. In fact, her face seemed a bit redder than before. Joel wondered why, confusion crossing his face as he took in her appearance.
Once more, his sense of balance altered. Bull kneeled down, bringing the mage closer to the ground.
"Right," the Qunari replied, hands steadying Joel as he gently slid him off his shoulder towards the earth.
When Joel's feet met the grass, he could not convince himself to move out of Bull's warm grip. The Iron Bull pushed himself back up to his full height after a moment of hesitation, as if they were both savoring the unexpected contact . As he did so, one hand slowly grazed up and over the long expanse of the mage's back. It was a touch as soft as a butterfly's wing and Joel's entire focus was on that subtle caress. The muscles in his back tensed, as if ready for battle. Yet the thought of running was unappealing. That same hand crept up the nape of his neck, running softly through his hair. The touch sent chills racing across the mage's body as Bull's hand finally settled on his shoulder. It was a casual end for a not so casual journey.
"Ready when you are," Bull said. Even though Joel did not dare look behind him, he somehow knew those words were for him.
If he was being honest, his brain had gone blank the moment Bull had put his warm hands on him. He didn't want to move from this spot where Bull had touched him for the first time, for fear that it would never happen again. He'd prefer to stay as the puddle of goo that he felt like, heat flooding every nerve of his body. But that type of thinking wouldn't help them reach Redcliffe any sooner. He was the Maker''s blessed Herald of Andraste and they had a mission, damn it all to the Fade. He shouldn't waste time enjoying these odd sensations. They were too confusing. Why did Bull have to go and...do whatever he had done to him?
"Yeah, okay," Joel finally rasped out, taking a monumental step forward down the path they had been following. The movement caused Bull's hand to leave his shoulder and the mage missed the contact as soon as it was gone.
Varric snickered but followed, and Joel heard Cassandra groan in annoyance. Bull was oddly silent but the mage didn't want to hear his voice anymore. His rough voice was a distraction and they needed to make it to Redcliffe before nightfall.
Besides, he could feel Bull's gaze on him. And that somehow felt more physical than any touch they had shared so far.
It was going to be a long journey.