Chapter 2

They reached the house thirty minutes later; the darkness, as much as Ellana's injuries, causing Bull to walk slowly. He stabled Asaara, then entered the abandoned house and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. He could make out the shape of a chair against a wall, and lowered Ellana into it.
The pitch black felt heavy and oppressive. "We need some light," he said, thinking aloud. Brightness suddenly lit the hall and he turned to see a ball of flame shimmering above Ellana's hand; with a practised flick of her wrist, the orange orb shot through the air hitting a torch that sat in a bracket on the wall. Bull chuckled, "Okay, well that works." He collected the torch and handed it to her. "You'll need to hold this while I'm carrying you."
"I think I can manage that," she answered with a smile. But he could see the dark circles beneath her eyes and the layer of sweat on her forehead, and knew she was still in pain. He glanced at her injured ankle and cursed his stupidity for not removing the boot as soon as he'd found her.

The flaming torch threw out shadows upon the once splendid furnishings as he checked each room; eventually, he spotted a large double bed and laid her down. He took the torch and placed it in a wall bracket before positioning himself by her feet. He looked over his shoulder to warn her, "This is probably going to hurt so I'll try and do it quickly."
She lifted her head and realised what he was going to do. "No! Don't tou-" The rest of her sentence was lost in a scream of agony as he carefully tried to remove the boot. He immediately stopped his actions and apologised, "Shit, I'm sorry, Boss, but this needs to come off."
"Then find me some alcohol before you try again," she panted.
"I don't know whether that's a good idea. I think you might have a concussion, too."
"Bull, I appreciate the concern, I really do. But if you touch my foot again before I get drunk, I may well shoot a lightning bolt up your ass,"
He eyed her warily, unsure of whether or not she meant the threat. Nah, she wouldn't do that. He reached once more for her foot but was hit with a mind blast before he could take hold of the boot. "I'm warning you, Bull."
He pushed away from the wall where he'd come to a halt, and stared at her in surprise. "Damn, you're a grumpy woman when you're injured," he complained. However, he was unwilling to risk the lightning bolt, and went off to hunt for alcohol.

Bull certainly hadn't expected his day to turn out like this. Searching the rooms of the abandoned house, he smiled to himself; although that smile quickly waned when he thought of his reason for following Ellana from Skyhold in the first place.
The continual absence of the Inquisitor had been grating on his nerves for a while, so last night he'd cornered Varric and asked why she no longer came to the tavern. The dwarf had given him a surprised look, then his eyes had slid over to the barmaids . Bull had noticed the direction of the glance, and tried to defend himself, "I stopped that when..." But he'd broken off, and a grimly smiling Varric finished the sentence. "When you realised they couldn't replace the Inquisitor."
Bull had growled in agreement and rubbed a hand over his face. Varric had sympathetically patted his arm and offered some advice. "I think you need to talk to her, Tiny."

Today, when Bull had seen Ellana leave on one of her solitary rides, it had seemed like a perfect opportunity. He'd rushed over to the stables and saddled Asaara as quickly as he could; even so, she'd been out of sight by the time he'd mounted the horse. Thankfully, he'd known where she went to for her rides, and had decided to take a leisurely canter in her direction, which would give him time to think about what he wanted to say. He'd still been trying to figure out how to start the conversation when he'd spotted her on the ground with a bear closing in. His heart had been in his mouth as he'd spurred Asaara towards her. He rubbed the back of his neck now, realising that he'd never gotten around to sorting out what he was going to say to her. That was a problem for a later time, however; right now he needed to find some alcohol.

Ten minutes later, he returned to the bedroom and laid out his spoils: a bottle of Chasind Sack Mead, two glasses, some dried meat and fruit, a roll of bandages, a small jar of ointment, and a sharp knife. Ellana raised a questioning brow at the sight of the knife and he explained that he was going to have to cut away the boot considering how much trouble he'd had trying to remove it in the usual way. She groaned, "But I only bought these boots a couple of weeks ago."
He chuckled as he poured her a shot of liquor. "Just think how much fun you can have going shopping for a new pair," he said as he handed her the glass. She laughed at the suggestion, and his breath caught in his throat; even roughed up and looking pale, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He'd initially been interested because of her long red hair; in fact, he'd indulged in a lot of fantasies about wrapping his hand in those gorgeous strands while... he quickly pushed the image away when he felt a stirring in his lower regions. This definitely wasn't the right time.

He saw that she was reaching for the bottle of Chasind Sack Mead and quickly picked it up. "Are you planning on drinking all of it?" he questioned.
"That depends on how soon it can get me drunk. If it takes the whole bottle, then so be it." He filled her glass and put the remainder back on the table; knowing her low tolerance for alcohol he wasn't too concerned about her finishing the bottle.
Suddenly he shivered, only now noticing the cold night air creeping into the abandoned house and chilling its two occupants; spotting a large fireplace, he told Ellana that he was going to find some wood. Twenty minutes later he returned to find her giggling and the half empty bottle of mead in her hand. "Crap. Please tell me you didn't drink all of that? You spilt some of it, right?" he hopefully asked.
She hiccuped cheerfully and waved the bottle. "I'm not feeling a thing. This stuff is great!"
Bull rolled his eyes and took the bottle from her grip; her words were already slurred, if she drank anymore she'd be incoherent. After building the fire, he had to dissuade her from flinging a fireball at the wood he'd carefully piled up; he was pretty sure that she wasn't seeing straight after drinking that much alcohol.

Judging that she was now ready to have the boot removed, he picked up the knife and made his way to the foot of the bed. Carefully, he started to slice the leather... but then she jerked her leg away. "What are you doing?" she shouted. "Get your own boot!"
He swore, and wiped away a drop of sweat from his forehead as he realised how close he'd come to cutting her leg; she was going to give him a bloody heart attack doing things like that. "Ellana, keep still. I need to remove your boot so I can check your ankle."
She responded with a dismissive snorting sound. "S'nothing wrong with my ankle," she slurred.

He sighed, took hold of her leg and once more started the delicate task of cutting through the leather. He let out the breath he'd been holding in only when the task had been accomplished - without any further interference from Ellana. Satisfied, he slipped off the boot; but then softly cursed at the sight of her swollen ankle and foot which were already showing some ugly bruising.
He went to the bedside table and collected the bandages and ointment; the label said it contained elfroot and arbor blessing, both of which he knew were used in regeneration potions. He slathered the injured area with the thick cream before wrapping the bandages around; then he critically eyed his handiwork and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

"All right, let's take a look at your head." He sat down on the edge of the bed and she leaned forward to rest against his broad chest. A soft sigh slipped from her mouth as his fingers slid into her hair. "Feels nice," she mumbled as he moved gently over her skull checking for any open wounds. He couldn't agree more; the feel of her warm breath against his skin felt great.
"Well, you've got an egg-sized lump on the back of your head, but no bleeding." The only response to his diagnosis was a snore. He chuckled and laid her down, carefully pulling the covers over her after removing the remaining boot. He wistfully eyed the empty half of the bed and contemplated climbing in next to her, but dismissed the idea after considering what her reaction might be when she awoke; the lightning bolt sounded painful. So, after looking around for a while, he found a thin blanket and a relatively comfortably chair, which he moved closer to the bed; there he settled down and tried to get some sleep. For a moment, his eyes rested on her profile, lit by the warm glow of the fire, and a sad smile played over his lips; his dreams of spending another night with her had come true, just not in the way he'd pictured.