Ophelia returned to her quarters, it had been a long day. In an effort to feel more useful while at Skyhold, she had taken it upon herself to help the injured, it was cruel of her not to help them, she was a spirit healer, after all. It appeared that none of the other mages had any proficiency in healing, or at least not to the level that Ophelia was, so much of the work was left to her. She was glad to help people, yes, but it was draining, of course it was, especially when she could feel the distrust of some of those around her as she was aided by spirits in her work. It was tiring to say the least.

It had been a few days since she had really spoken to Bull, she wouldn't admit that she had been avoiding him, but in truth she had, with what time she'd had to herself anyway. She'd completely embarrassed herself in front of him, a spy for the qunari, a spy. And her magic was unusual, not simply because she was a maleficar, her quiet proficiency in the field was astounding, even Dorian had noticed. She was used to being weak in front of people, almost every time she had seen Zevran after dark she had been weak, and the thought that all her work, her struggle over the past ten years had been for nothing pained her.

She opened the door to her room, to find the Iron Bull sat on her bed. When the initial surprise subsided, her expression changed to confusion.

"Bull?"

"You've been avoiding me. I know that you've been working, the way you help these people, it's fascinating to watch, you know. But yeah, avoiding me. Why?"

"I- I haven't been avoiding you." Her tone was unconvincing, the look on Bull's face told her exactly that. She let out a small huff before continuing, "I've been thinking too much." Was all she said. She knew she fell in love too easily, so much so she was never sure she could call it love. Being with Bull reminded her so much of being back with Zev, the man she loved, and she knew she could call that love. So what exactly did she feel for the Iron Bull? It was affection for sure, but she shouldn't, she loved Zevran. Nothing more, nothing less. She hadn't even slept with the man yet, and here she was one step away from fawning over him. She couldn't believe herself, this is ridiculous, she thought. "I needed time to think, about… well- "

"Riding the bull." Bull continued, helping her finish the sentence she was clearly reluctant to say aloud. Ophelia blushed, she spent far too much time blushing around him, but she nodded in agreement. Bull let out a throaty chuckle, "I don't blame you, riding the bull is no small feat." He added, entertaining himself with the innuendo.

"I suppose you're right. Yes, you see my… concern isn't the right word, but right now it's the only one that comes to mind. You see, I haven't… in a while."

"For someone who claims to be a 'fucking good lay', you sure are shy when it comes to talking about sex." The Bull replied, the entertained grin on his face growing at the mage's bashfulness.

"That's Ferelden for you, stiff upper lips and prudishness, especially amongst noble families."

"Noble? You're nobility? This keeps getting better and better."

"Well," She started, before making a small noise of disgust, "why does everything have to be complicated. Technically, yes, I am from a noble house, the name Amell is a well-respected one. But I am never going to inherit. I'm a mage, and I'm almost certain a bastard one at that, my father never did like me very much. After being taken away from the Circle, I saw very little of my family. Where he is now, where my siblings are now, I don't know, and honestly I don't think I'll ever know."

"That must have been difficult, for what it's worth I'm sorry. Under the Qun, families aren't a thing, you're simply raised. But if you're a bastard, as you believe, who is your real father?"

"A Fereldan noble, how he and my mother met is a mystery to me, we're from the Free Marches, after all. But Leliana found out for me, how she does it, I'll never know."

"So still nobility, just a bastard kinda nobility." Bull remarked.

"Yes, but these days it doesn't hold you back much, look at Alistair. On the throne despite being Maric's bastard." She replied with a slight shrug. "But anyway, family is a dire and boring subject for me, and it's off topic, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed, my lady."

"Please don't," Ophelia's face twisted into a grimace, uncomfortable with both the notion and title.

"What else would I call you?"

"My name? I do have one, you know, doesn't have an article in front of it but it serves its purpose, Bull."

"You certainly are something fierce, aren't you?"

"That is a new one on me," She said with a laugh. "Never have I been called fierce. Meek, yes, shy, yes. Fierceness is not my nature."

"Then you'll be easier to order around," Bull said quietly, a playful smirk on his lips.

"What?"

"Not important, not now anyway. I have an idea. If you're concerned about moving too quickly, or needing time for certain preparations, how 'bout I give you a massage? You look tense." Bull spoke, his voice softening as the sentence continued.

"I can go with a massage," Ophelia said agreeably, her tone light.

"Good," Bull smiled at her, "Just so you know, it works a whole lot better with your clothes off." Ophelia raised her eyebrow at his remark, but her countenance betrayed to Bull that she wasn't completely against the idea. The look in her eyes, the pull of her mouth far too soft to indicate that the idea was off the table. He watched patiently as she began to remove her clothing, despite the common attire of mages being robes, Ophelia was quite clearly not a fan of them, neither when travelling or domestically. Her clothes were comparable to the Inquisitors, in substance over style. Bull pushed the thoughts aside, there was a beautiful woman undressing in front of him and he was considering her tailoring choices over her body, in this instance he regretted Dorian's influence over him.

She removed her shirt, carefully considering each button as she did before letting it drop to the floor. Bull disguised the hunger in his gaze, that lingered over her breasts, letting the sensation quickly move through him before containing it. As much as he wished to strip her of all clothing, he would do as he had suggested. A massage. He would not push her, regardless of his own wants, he was not one to take advantage, to be too dominant, not without permission anyway. Her reluctance to remove her trousers was spread across her body language, clear as day to an agent of Ben-Hassrath, though he couldn't understand her hesitation, not until they came off. Her thighs were littered with scars, most of them pale, a few of the bigger ones a bruised purple, some of them looked as if they could compete with Bull's own scars in terms of the damage they'd done. Bull couldn't help but wince, they looked like they would've been painful, these looked self-inflicted, though he couldn't quite work out why. They could be an indicator of the use of blood magic, but she wouldn't need to cut that deep, surely?

He must have been staring for some time, as he heard a small, cynical laugh from Ophelia.

"I get that a lot." She said, her voice tinged with bitterness, regret even. "Life was hard, this was how I dealt with it, I don't need pity, not anymore. Just the massage, okay?" Her tone was defensive, despite the age of the scars, the mental injury left behind was still quite fresh, Bull didn't press her, now wasn't the time for it. Bull pushed the interrogating thoughts aside once more, allowing him to focus solely on her, all of her. For a human woman, she was tall, obviously nowhere near the size or stature of any qunari, but her long legs gave her an air of elegance as she walked towards the bed, and lay on her front, her cheek resting on her folded arms.
Bull removed his boots, pulling them off with haste, and without really considering his laces all that much, before climbing onto the bed and straddling Ophelia's legs. He made sure his bodyweight was above hers, hovering over her slightly, otherwise he would crush her with his own weight. He settled over her, making sure that he was comfortable, and that she was comfortable, too. He felt her shuffle slightly between his legs, adjusting her position slightly before settling, her eyes now closed.

He began working his thumbs into the muscles, despite her lithe appearance, she was strong, her muscles well defined. As he continued to work, easing the tension in her shoulders, he considered that she had been travelling for three years, searching for a cure for the Calling. Given the battlemage attire she had draped over the chair in the corner, still flecked with blood and grime, her staff was clearly still in use, meaning the presence of muscles made sense. His hands ran across her back, making gentle and smooth work of the knots that had formed. He heard small noises of contentment pass her lips, her breathing heavier, deeper as she relaxed further. "How are you so good at this?" Ophelia asked, the lethargy in her voice clear. "Someone who's hands could very well crush my skull shouldn't be that gentle." Bull couldn't help but let out a chuckle,

"Ben-Hassrath training, it's all about knowing what people need."

"What, so the top agents under the Qun just go around giving each other massages?"

"Not quite like that, but Ben-Hassrath agents carry a lot of tension, it's a tense job, you know? Sometimes you just need to relax."

"That's fair." Ophelia murmured, "Thank you Bull. This, wasn't necessary but, thank you."

"And pass up the opportunity to give a massage to a beautiful woman? And see her in her underwear? The pleasure's all mine."

"Ulterior motives, you're more open than Zev was, I suppose." Ophelia remarked. "Though he did preface his massage offer with telling me he learnt his skills in an Antivan whorehouse. So, I guess I saw it coming, really." She continued, making an attempt at a shrug, but the energy required right seemed too much to her, plus Bull was doing a damn good job.

"Are you really that unaware of sexual advances? Damn, lady, how?"

"By never assuming. I assumed Cullen wanted to sleep with me, we did once, but he ran away the second time. Traumatising to say the least."

"Shit, you mentioned that the other day, when you were drunk. Cullen? I find that hard to believe."

"The chantry boy broke the rules once, and only once. Hence the running away I guess, but I'd rather not talk about him, not right now."

"Gotcha. Would you mind if I undid this?" He asked, hands moving to the band of her bra.

"As long as you don't insist I turn over." She responded, her voice still low and languorous, her words dictated a sternness, yet she wasn't sure if he actually asked, that she would say no. Either way, he didn't press the matter, he simply complied, undoing the clasp, allowing the two sides to slip off her back. His massage continued further down her back, covering the area previously covered by the bra, as his fingers continued to work at the tight spots along her back, she let out a small moan, her back arching into the bed. Bull smiled to himself, he was clearly doing something right.

When Bull felt he had worked out as much tension from her body as he could, he swung his leg over her and onto the floor, removing the second away swiftly after. Knowing that moving silently wasn't an option for him in trying not to disturb her, so he simply moved with speed, trying to remove his presence as fast as he could, instead. At this point, Ophelia was almost asleep, teetering on the edge of her dreams, he grabbed hold of the throw at the end of her bed, and spread the blanket over her. She shifted onto her side, eyes still closed, and murmured a word of thanks not to Bull, but to Zevran, her lover. It was probably a slip of the tongue, given her earlier admission of Zevran's massage… skills, but some part of him couldn't help but feel that her lover's presence, or lack of it, was pressing on her, holding her back from something. Maybe that's what she's been thinking over, he thought, as drawn to the woman as he was, as purely captivating as she was, her heart belonged to someone else, and was clearly having a more profound effect on her than she thought.

With this disheartening realisation, Bull left, closing the door quietly behind him.