Thank you for reading! This is a sequel to The Heart of a Dragon and Dragon's Blood, although I do not think it's necessary to have read those to follow this one. Enjoy!

"Ah, kadan, smell that air."

Ren Trevelyan grinned, watching her lover as he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the salt tang of the ocean they had both longed for.

They had been traveling for days to reach the Storm Coast, where they intended to settle now that they had retired from the Inquisition. Even though they were on no special timeline, they had both felt a need to hurry, as if, had they dawdled, the Inquisition might have reached out its long fingers and called them back.

It hadn't, at least not so far, and now here they were hiking the rocky trails over the cliffs where they had first met. Ren trailed along a little behind the Iron Bull, admiring the play of the muscles in his back and shoulders as he moved. They had come together so naturally, drawn to one another almost from the start; she often took what they had for granted, something she vowed to fix now that she had the time to devote to him, rather than constantly being at the beck and call of the troubles of the world.

He turned to look at her over his shoulder. "Having trouble keeping up?"

"Never have, never will."

"Good. This house of yours is just up that next cliff."

She caught his hand, pulling him to a stop. "Ours," she corrected him.

"You sure?"

"We're together, aren't we? What's mine is yours."

His face was troubled, his single grey eye boring into hers. "Yes, but you earned this, kadan. You were the Inquisitor."

"But you did the fighting. I'd have died ten times over, at least, if I hadn't had you in front of me everywhere I went."

"I didn't do that for the Inquisition." His big hand stole out to cover her head, his thumb stroking her hair, a familiar gesture.

"I know." She reached up and touched the half of a dragon's tooth he wore on a cord around his neck. The other half hung on a similar cord around her own, a symbol of their love for each other and their commitment to one another. Two halves of a whole. "And that's why it's yours as much as mine."

They stood there for a moment looking at one another, before the Iron Bull pulled away. Ren let him go, contentedly resuming the climb behind him. Qunari didn't believe in romantic love, and far as he had come from his people and the Qun, the moments when he was willing to be mushy and romantic were brief and rare. She didn't mind, not really; she'd never been one for mush herself. And she knew how he felt about her. It was in every look, every touch, every time he stopped in the middle of sparring to show her a better grip or stance.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the edges of the mountains, the air cooling with the receding light. But there ahead, framed by the red sky, was the little round house on the top of a cliff the Inquisition had deeded to Ren when she stepped down as Inquisitor.

Robert Morris, former quartermaster, had become the Inquisitor, and Fairbanks, whom Ren had first met in the Emerald Graves, was spymaster now that Leliana had become Divine. Skyhold was very different than it used to be—Ren should have been more sad to say good-bye, but so many of her former companions were gone now.

"You think he'll be all right?" the Iron Bull said abruptly.

"Who, Cole?"

"Yeah."

She smiled at his back. He would never admit it, but he had come to love the former spirit. He hadn't suggested Cole move to the Storm Coast with them, but Ren was fairly sure the thought had crossed his mind. "Varric will take care of him." Varric had gone back to Kirkwall, and Cole had gone with him. There were plenty of people in pain there that a former spirit of compassion could help.

The Iron Bull grunted, unconvinced.

They climbed in silence for a few more minutes, at last reaching the ladder that would carry them up to their house. The Iron Bull stopped, his eye sweeping the ocean with satisfaction, before turning to her.

She was looking out toward the sea, as well, the breeze ruffling her red hair, so beautiful, and he marveled again at all the changes that had come to his life—and to him—since he'd met her. Not that long ago, either, just a little over a year since he had first seen her come charging into combat with her daggers gleaming. And in that time he had joined the Inquisition, effectively giving up his leadership of the Chargers to Krem; he had made the momentous decision to leave the Qun behind when he had to choose between the Qun and his men; he had fallen in love with her, more deeply than he could ever have imagined he was capable of; and he had chosen to leave the Inquisition with her, to start a new life, just the two of them, a life he would never have dreamed of before. It was a lot to take in. And although he had never admitted it to her, sometimes he wondered if he had made the right choices. The life he lived now was so at odds with the way he had been raised to be, the way he had believed was right. He had no purpose, no goal. Sure, eventually they would rejoin the Chargers and he could get back to being a merc captain, but was that enough to build a life on?

Ren was looking up at him, her blue eyes soft and thoughtful. "Copper for your thoughts?"

He didn't know what to tell her. She had been so glad to leave the Inquisition, so ready to move on with a life she had chosen, for the first time—he didn't want to dim that happiness with his own conflicted thoughts. Instead of answering, he drew her close and threaded his fingers through her silky hair, tilting her head back so he could kiss her.

The Iron Bull had long ago lost count of the kisses, the touches, the number of times they had had sex, but he still found it astonishing how much he still wanted her even after all those countless times. Just the feel of her body against him and the touch of her lips were enough to calm his rising doubts. "Come on," he said hoarsely. "That giant bed of yours is calling."

Ren grinned. "In bed, really? The first time? Tsk tsk. I thought you were more inventive than that."

He trapped her body between himself and the ladder, holding her there, pressing himself against the rounded curve of her rear. "Right here is sounding better and better."

"Another time." Hastily, Ren scrambled the rest of the way up the ladder.

The house was just as she remembered it; maybe a little more weathered. Krem had had all their belongings delivered, and the Chargers had come out to set things up and reclaim their old camping grounds while Ren and the Iron Bull were in the Frostback Basin making friends with the Avvar, but no one had expected them today, and so everything was silent. No smoke rose from the chimney.

Unexpectedly, Ren found herself lifted into the air. The Iron Bull grinned down at her. "Tradition, right? Carrying you over the threshhold and all that?"

"That's for a wedding night."

He shrugged. "Close enough."

Ren relaxed into his arms, resting her head against his chest. "If you say so." This kind of thing had never been part of her fantasies, but she'd let him play at married couple if he wanted.

Inside the house, he put her down, dropping his pack on the floor at his feet. Looking around, Ren followed suit. The Chargers had done well. Their books were shelved, their things neatly put away, the bed made up—her beautiful oversized bed, which she'd had made when she first became Inquisitor in hopes of sharing it with him. They'd made do without it since she stepped down, but both were looking forward to being able to stretch out again.

With a sigh, she flopped backward onto it, reveling in the softness beneath her.

The Iron Bull's eye raked hotly over her body, and she arched into his gaze as if it were a tangible thing. He made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, shedding his clothes hastily before attacking the laces on her hiking boots.

Ren lay there and let him undress her. His big fingers were surprisingly deft, and in no time the boots were off and he was working on her pants.

"I can never decide if I like these tight pants of yours or not. Sure, they make your ass look great, but they're a pain to get off."

"I know, you'd prefer me naked."

"Damn straight I would." He yanked the pants the rest of the way off. Ren's legs parted as if of their own volition, drawing up to give him better access.

Without bothering to remove her smallclothes, he pressed his face against her, breathing her in, scraping his teeth lightly across her most sensitive spot. Ren cried out, her hips rising to get closer. She gripped his horns to hold him there.

He set to work on her in earnest, then, tugging the smallclothes down with his teeth before turning his lips and tongue to the serious business of her pleasure. When this had all started between them, it had been about her needs, about giving her a place where she didn't have to be in charge, where someone else was taking care of her for a change. Now that she was no longer Inquisitor, the rules had changed along with her needs, but he still drew his greatest satisfaction from the sound and scent and taste of her at the peak of her arousal. Later, he would tease and torment, delaying the moment of ultimate satisfaction for her pleasure and for his, but now he was single-minded in his focus, driving her up the peak and then letting her come slowly down again.

Ren tugged on his horns to bring him up to her, feeling the weight of him settle fully on top of her. She sighed in contentment.

The Iron Bull smiled at her. "Welcome home, Morvoren."

No one had ever used her full given name before—her mother, whose idea the romantic name had been, died before Ren was old enough to remember her, and her father preferred her middle name, Alys. In his research on her before the Chargers joined the Inquisition, the Iron Bull had found the name and liked its music. On meeting her, he had found something in her eyes that made him feel the name and its meaning, mermaid, suited her. And for some reason, she had trusted him to do so—something about the way he said it made her feel that he saw her in a way no one before him ever had. In return, she had taken to calling him Ashkaari, the name given to him by the tamassran who raised him. It meant "one who thinks", and in Ren's opinion, suited him perfectly.

She had sensed a concern growing in him recently, some thought process in the back of his mind that he had yet to share with her, and was trying to be patient and wait, knowing that pushing him would never work, but she couldn't help but wonder what it was that was bothering him.

For the moment, however, all those thoughts had been put aside. Nothing existed except what lay inside these round wooden walls—the two of them, and the life they intended to make together.

"Kiss me, Ashkaari."

"My pleasure."

Later, there would be unpacking to do, organizing, a trip down the cliff to the Chargers' camp and to the local fishing village, swims in the ocean and hikes over the mountain, and one day, a jaunt across the bay to the little island where a High Dragon lay just waiting for them to challenge her. For now, they let the urgent need of their bodies take over and made love long into the night.