I try to stay away from 'in-game' elements as much as possible, but I wanted to elaborate/change a few things for the sake of the story. Hopefully this doesn't feel repetitive.
From the battlements, Ashrielle saw Cassandra in her usual spot. Instead of beating the hay out of training dummies, she was sitting upon a stool, reading a book. Remembering her conversation with Varric earlier in the week about finding common ground, she took the stairs. Being her clan's First, and training with the Keeper, she always had a pile of books waiting to be read. Most of them were academic, tomes of her peoples lore. There were books though, that she'd picked up through the years which she kept in a trunk for her own pleasure; great adventures, thrilling mysteries, and a few really scary ones. Perhaps this appreciation for the written word would be their common ground.
The grass was cool under her feet as she made her way from the stairs to where Cassandra sat. The woman, so engrossed in the story that she didn't turn around. Ashrielle kept a safe distance. "Good book?"
Cassandra jumped up, hiding the book behind her back. "Inquisitor! I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"The book, I'm talking about the book!" Ashrielle moved quick, ran around Cassandra and plucked the novel out of her hands. "Swords and Shields," she read out loud. "What's it about?"
The Seeker stood a little straighter. "I'm sure it is nothing that would interest you."
"Why not?" Ashrielle sat in the grass, and flipped through the pages. "Woah! This is one of Varric's stories! What chapter is this? Do you have the beginning?"
"I would bet money on it," Dorian said as he walked by.
"She didn't ask you, Tevinter," Cassandra seethed.
"I couldn't even finish the last one you lent me." Dorian shook his head. "Heed my warning, Ashrielle, don't bother with that story. I feel dumber for having tried."
Cassandra glared at the back of his head for a moment, before she sat down on the stool once again. "It's literature," she muttered. "Smutty literature. Whatever you do, please, don't tell Varric."
"Why? He'd be flattered," Ashrielle said, looking up at the Seeker.
Cassandra groaned. "He'd never let me hear the end of it." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "They're terrible… and magnificent. This one-" she tapped the book in Ashrielle's hands, "leaves off in a cliffhanger. Varric must be working on the next one. He must be." She leaned forward. "You! You could ask him to finish it! Command him to…." She shook her head, and stood. "Pretend you don't know this about me."
"Well… okay," Ashrielle shrugged. "But do you have the first one?"
::
The first chapter of Swords and Shields laid open on the table. A tankard of ale sat untouched. Ashrielle read the words slowly, her finger following under the letters as she went. She bit her lip as the two main characters first met. Blindly, she reached out for her tankard, fingers dancing until they found purchase. Still her eyes remained on the page as she barely wet her lips, and put the tankard down.
Page after glorious page, she became engrossed in the plot, enjoying the slow build. All too soon, she finished the first one. Setting it aside, she quickly grabbed the second.
She spent hours like that, in the tavern, reading while barely remembering her ale. Maryden's songs didn't distract her, nor did the rowdy Chargers, nor Sera's drunken antics. The only thing that did get to her was her burning eyes. Rubbing them, she paused to look outside and see that the sun had long left the sky.
With the books in hand, she left Herald's Rest, because she, the Herald, really did need some rest. Yawning, she made her way across the courtyard, and dragged her feet as she climbed up the stairs. The Throne room was empty for once, and she prompted one foot ahead of the other with the promise of comfort in her bedroom, and a solid five hours of sleep.
The warmth welcomed her as she climbed the last of the stairs. Someone had thrown a log on the fire, and closed the doors to the balcony. The cozy heat and crackle of the fire invited her to sit down. Just one more page, she thought to herself, settling down by the fire and using it for light.
::
Scouts and soldiers still moved around the fortress, ensuring the protection of the sleeping residents of Skyhold. Ashrielle carefully avoided them all. She slunk to the shadows, and used her extensive knowledge of the castles corridors and staircases to get to her destination unseen. How improper it would be for someone to see the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, sneaking off to a man's room in the middle of the night? Josephine would throw a fit.
With one last glance down the battlement, she rushed from the stairs to the door, and pushed it open. Her eyes flicked around the sparse room. Armour hung with care, a few scrolls worth of paper laid on a desk with a quill and ink. The bed took up most of the space in the room, that and half a tree which stuck through the still unrepaired wall.
The moonlight gave her more detail than she would usually see in the darkness. The blanket covered most of his form, but she could make out the shape of his face, and horns, his features hidden in darkness. His eye opened, she could tell by the sudden lighter spot on his face. He shifted, and she saw his arm slip out from under the blanket. He beckoned her over with a crooked finger.
His welcome warmed her. She smiled, and shut the door, without the moonlight she could still see, just with far less detail. She practically walked on her toes, half expecting to still get caught by one of the guards. He held up the blanket for her, and she slipped under the covers, snuggling up to him immediately.
"Your feet are cold," he muttered sleepily.
She smiled, and nuzzled against his shoulder. "How do you know it's me at the door? Can Qunari see well in the dark?"
"Well enough." He yawned. "Elf eyes kind of glow in the dark. Like a cats."
"That just means you know an elf was at your door. Could have been one of the kitchen staff, Creators know you bedded them from time to time." She suddenly sat up, and turned nimbly, straddling him, hands curled into fists on his chest. "You aren't still playing around with them, are you?"
He moved up onto his elbow, and pulled her down, their lips crashed together as they met in the middle. He nipped her lip in gentle admonishment. "I told you before," he said forcefully, "as long as I'm with you, there will be no one else."
"Good," she whispered against his lips, before claiming them once more. Quick kisses made her feverish. Greedy hands ran over his chest. "How tired are you?" she whispered breathily.
He barked out a laugh. "I'm never too tired for this." His hands ran over her slender form, slid under her nightdress, and held her hips against his. A slow roll of his hips had her head tipping back, a gasp escaping her lips. "Although, you're usually one for your beauty sleep."
"Don't tease."
"Come on, Asaaranda," she saw the smirk in the darkness, the mischievous glint in his one good eye. "You love it when I tease." His hands could do the most wonderful things. Teasing, tempting, the sweetest of tortures. Her nails scored his chest as her hands clenched, desperate for purchase. He licked the line of her throat, nipped at her jaw. "Now, are you going to tell me what got you all hot and bothered?"
"Huh? What?" She blinked, realizing his hands were now at his sides, clenched in the sheets. "Why did you stop?"
"I asked a question."
"Yes. You did." She stared at him blankly for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Would you mind repeating it?"
He chuckled. "Usually when you sneak your way here, you just want a snuggle buddy. Not that I'm complaining. What? Did you have some hot dream? I want details."
She pressed on his chest, but he didn't budge, not even when she put her weight behind it. The Elf had no way to overpower the Qunari. Not that she minded. The power of him was part of the allure. "It wasn't a dream," she said, finding herself a little embarrassed. "Can't a woman just want, pure and simple."
"Absolutely. In fact, want all you want."
She kissed him, slow, tender. "I-…" She cleared her throat. I love you. Too soon. Isn't it?
"Hey." His thumb stroked along her jaw. "You still there?"
"Yes, sorry." She ran a finger his hard abs, enjoying the strength of him, and the security in the knowledge that he would never use that strength to hurt her. She trusted him, absolutely. "It was… a book," she admitted. "A very… naughty book."
He smirked. "If this is the result of you reading it, you should definitely read more."
She sighed, remembering the cliffhanger of an ending. "Oh I would, I really would, but you see, there isn't any more. I'm all caught up. And the last one left in this terrible cliffhanger." She clutched her heart dramatically and fell to the side, the bed cushioning her. "I have to speak with Varric first thing!"
"Wait, wait, wait," Bull turned to his side, still up on his elbow, horn scrapping against the headboard. He cursed- or it sounded like a curse- Ashrielle didn't understand Qunlat. "Varric writes dirty novels?"
"Romance, Bull, they're romance."
"Oh, I'll romance you," he teased, pulling her close.
Her little giggle cut to a gasp of pleasure. Romance, sure.
::
Patterns of light danced upon the floor. Ashrielle woke up with a little smile on her face, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tried to clear the fog from her mind. A tree. In my room? No. Bull's room. Daylight! She jolted up. "Flame-spitting nuggalopes!"
Bull opened his eye. "What did you just say?"
"Where is my nightdress?" She shoved aside the blanket and moved around the room. Free of clutter, she found it with ease. Both pieces of it. In a moment of anger, she stomped her foot. "Andraste's blessed breasts!"
Now Bull laughed. "What did you just say?"
"Sera said it." She shrugged. "I think it fits, right?"
"No, I think it's for good things, and you don't seem particularly pleased," he said lazily.
Ashrielle huffed out a breath. "Doesn't matter. My nightdress is ruined, the sun is up, there are going to be people around." She paced trying to wear out the gnawing nervousness in her gut. "I'll have to wear one of your shirts, and everyone is going to talk, and Josephine is going to give me an hour long lecture about how improper it is for dignified ladies to be-" Bull silenced her with a crushing kiss. She hadn't even noticed him get out of bed. Delightfully distracted, she melted against him.
"Relax." His hands gently squeezed her shoulders. "I'll go to your room, and grab your stuff."
She pouted. "Someone will see you."
"Then I'll get Cole to grab your stuff."
She blinked owlishly. "Yeah. I guess that could work. But when I leave here-"
"We will leave together, and continue talking about battle strategy."
"Right. We were… strategizing." She smiled, just a little. "You know, no one is going to believe that."
"Well, that's what Josephine is for. Right?" He frowned, and turned away from her. In that moment, she had a horrible feeling she'd done something wrong.
"Bull?"
"What?" he snapped, his back still turned to her as he started to dress.
"Did I…" she chewed on her bottom lip, and wringed her hands. "Did I say something wrong? Or do something wrong?"
He paused, and she could see the tension in his back, like he had his weapon in hand and he readied to strike. "No," he said finally, his even-manner returning. Fully dressed, he approached her, and she tried to read him, but the former Ben-Hassrath gave nothing away. His fingers threaded through her hair, got tangled in the knots caused by moving around too much in bed. "No, you did nothing wrong, Asaaranda. I'll go speak to Cole."
He left her there, and she hugged herself. Despite his words of comfort, she fretted.
::
"You were you," Cole said as he walked along-side her. "But now you're the Inquisitor."
"Excuse me?" Ashrielle glanced over at him, he'd continued walking with her when Iron Bull made a quick escape to spar with his Chargers. "What do you mean, Cole?"
"I mean what I said."
She sighed. "But I'm not sure what you mean."
"Well. I brought you the Inquisitor clothes. They make you the Inquisitor. Alone, with The Iron Bull, you're just you."
She pulled at the constricting collar of the horrible, finely-tailored outfit. "You're right, these aren't my kind of clothes."
"It's not clothes." Cole adjusted his hat. "It's you liking to be you. Low collar, no sleeves, feel the wind and the rain. You walk with your feet bare when you can. It feels like freedom. You miss it."
She ran her finger between the collar of the shirt and her neck. "Being the Inquisitor is confining."
"And you don't like being confined."
She bristled. "Cole, why don't you go and check on some of the patients in the infirmary."
His shoulders dropped. "I tightened the knot," he said, distress tightening his voice. "Let me try again."
She pinched the brim of his hat and pulled it over his face. "You didn't hurt me, silly."
"I did, I reminded, but I didn't fix." When he lost the battle to right his hat, he just grabbed it and pulled it down away from his face. His white-blonde hair practically glowed in the sunlight. "I want to help."
"Oh, ma falon, you do help me. Every single day. We all have hurts, and that's okay. This hurt is old, and it has healed, just… sometimes I pick at it, and it hurts for a little while, but I spend some time with friends, and they heal me once more, and I forget again."
Cole considered this for a moment, and then he put his hat over her head. "So I'm with you when I'm not."
She beamed, and pulled him into a hug. "See Cole, you helped."
::
"Varric!" Ashrielle walked over and took a stool across from where he was writing in the Throne Room. "So, what are you writing?"
"A letter, but it can wait," he flipped it over, and cast her a smile. "Do you need me for something, Snuggles?"
"I had a question that only you can answer."
"Only me, huh? Alright, I admit it, I'm curious." Varric tipped his chair back slightly. "What's the question?"
"When are you going to be finished the next issue of Swords and Shields." She leaned forward, and had to push the Cole's hat back to see. How does he fight in this thing? "It has to be soon, you've been working on it, right?"
His eyebrows furrowed, and he stared a moment before he laughed. "Oh, this is great." He leaned toward her, and lowered his voice. "You read Swords and Shields?" She nodded. "The romance series?" She nodded again. "The one with all the…"
"Sex scenes, yes."
"Maker's breath." Varric had a smile on, even if he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You look so innocent, doesn't seem right to talk about this with you."
"I kill Red Templars and demons. I've battled Corypheus. I close rifts. I lead the Inquisition." She shook her head in disbelief. "And you think I'm too innocent to know anything about sexual relations?"
He chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way."
"So," she pressed.
"So what?"
"Are you writing it?" she threw her hands up, exasperated. "Please tell me you are! I stayed up half the night reading them to catch up to where Cas-" She froze, and avoided eye contact.
"Oh, do finish your sentence," Varric teased, his smile growing.
"Ah… um… casserole?"
Varric burst out laughing. "Snuggles, you are hands down the worst liar I've ever met. And I've seen Cullen play Wicked Grace. He can't bluff worth a nug."
She sighed. "Okay, okay, Cassandra loaned me her copies. I'm trying to find common ground, like you suggested, and I'm just as in love with them as she is, and so I need you to write the next one for us! Please, Lethallin!"
"Oh, this is too good. Cassandra, is in love with Swords and Shields." He rubbed his hands together. "We are talking about the same Cassandra right? Tall, Seeker. Likes to stab things."
She frowned. "I don't know that she likes to stab things, I do know she's really good at it."
"Alright, I'll do it, on one condition."
She clapped her hands together. "Name it!"
"I have to be there when you give it to Cassandra."
She bit her lip, but nodded, Cole's hat slipping and covering her eyes. With one finger, she pushed the hat back up. "Okay, Varric, we have a deal."
::
"Seeker."
Cassandra turned away from the training dummy and sheathed her sword. "Varric."
"He wrote the book!" Ashrielle blurted, unable to contain her happiness.
Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"Swords and Shields," Varric replied, holding the fresh copy up. "I hear you're a fan."
Dark eyes turned on Ashrielle. "This is your doing."
"I may have accidentally mentioned you when I was asking him to write it." Ashrielle took a step back nervously. "I didn't mean to. But he wrote it, isn't that the important part?"
"Look, if you aren't interested, you're not interested," Varric shrugged. "It still needs editing anyhow. Come on, Snuggles. I'm sure you want to find out what happens to the Knight-Captain after the last chapter."
"Wait!" Cassandra took one step forward, unable to contain her curiosity. "Nothing should happen to her! She was falsely accused!"
"Well it turns out the guardsman-"
"No!" Ashrielle quickly covered her ears.
"Don't tell me!" Cassandra ordered, stomping over and snatching the book out of his hand.
"This is the part where you thank the Inquisitor," Varric advised as he turned to leave. "I don't normally I don't give sneak peeks, after all."
Cassandra looked down at the cover, and put her and over it. Taking a deep breath, she turned to the Inquisitor. "Thank you."
Ashrielle hugged her own copy to her chest. "This was really all Varric. I just persuaded him to finish it."
"I hope I have time to read the first part," Cassandra said.
"Well, I'm going to hide up in the battlements in hopes that Josie won't find me and make me do Inquisitorial stuff."
Cassandra let out a rusty laugh. "Hiding sounds like a good plan."
::
"That. Was. Amazing!" Ashrielle hugged the book and let herself fall back onto the stone.
Cassandra smirked, and slowly closed the back of the book. "It was perfect. Absolutely perfect."
"And that scene with the-" Ashrielle paused, hearing approaching footsteps. Instead of saying it implicitly, she wiggled her eyebrows. "You know?"
The Seeker placed her hand over her heart. "I know."
Ashrielle sat up quickly. "And that final battle-"
"And she protected her true love-"
"And the kiss they shared!"
Both women sighed. Cassandra suddenly sat straighter, and her eyes narrowed. Ashrielle followed the Seeker's gaze, and looked over her shoulder to see Cullen with clipboard in hand, slowly taking steps backward. "Running away, Commander?" she teased.
"Strategic retreat," he replied. "I told you, I have sisters. Soon there will be giggling-"
"I do not giggle!" Cassandra snapped, her chin up trying to appear as dignified and intimidating as possible for someone sitting against a wall with a romance novel in hand.
He cleared his throat, and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, of course not. My apologies." He glanced up. "Ashrielle, Bull wants you to meet him on the eastern battlements." He nodded, having completed his duty. "Look at the time. I have to see Josephine. Good day, ladies."
Ashrielle did giggle, and Cassandra's attention shifted back to her while Cullen made his escape. She shrugged. "Our fearless Commander, running from giggling ladies."
Even Cassandra had to bark out a quick laugh. She ran her hand over the novel once again. "Thank you for this, I do appreciate you asking Varric. Even if he knows I'm a fan now."
"Of course," Ashrielle stood, she looked across, and could make out the shape of The Iron Bull on the other side. She chewed on her bottom lip. "I think I said something that put me on uneven ground with Bull, but I'm not sure what it was." She looked over her shoulder at Cassandra, now back on her feet. "What do you think I should do?"
"I don't think I'm one to be asking for relationship advice," Cassandra said. Apparently, the time for smiles and jokes had passed, her serious demeanor had returned.
"Well, in that case, what do you think the Knight-Commander would do?"
"She would make speak her mind." Cassandra nodded. "Trust in the truth."
Ashrielle didn't think that helped her situation any, being a terrible liar, she tended to tell the truth no matter what anyway. Still, she nodded, thanked Cassandra, and made her way around the battlements. Each step brought her closer to Bull, and increased her anxiety.
"Hey, Boss," he greeted casually.
"Bull." She took a deep breath. "About this morning-" The 'whoosh' of air passed by her ear, and made her jump. A knife struck Bull, and she screamed before her wits could slap sense into her. They were under attack. She didn't have her staff. Still she turned at the approaching men wearing Inquisition scout uniforms. They'd hurt Bull. They became nothing but targets. She quickly snapped her hands at her sides, pinpricks of pain stabbed and shifted along her skin as the electric current snapped from finger to finger, it hurt, but it was nothing like what it would do to them.
The attackers moved simultaneously, Bull charged at one, and threw him over the battlement, while Ashrielle dodged a dagger and slammed her hands into the man's chest, keeping them there as the current surged, pushing him back against the door. The man's body spasmed, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
"Asaaranda, that's enough," Bull's gentle voice pulled her from her violent outburst.
She jerked her hands back to her sides, and took three quick steps back as the body fell. "Oh, Creators," she whispered, staring at the lifeless body, and then to her hands.
"You're alright," Bull said, his big hands engulfing hers. "Relax."
"They were in scout uniforms. Leliana-"
"They weren't real scouts. They were assassins."
"Assassins!" She looked up at him. "They could have poisoned the knife!"
"Oh they did!" Seeing the sheer panic on her face made him regret admitting it. "Calm down. I've been dousing myself with the antidote." He figured it better not to mention the effects the poison would be having on him if he hadn't been.
She took a deep breath, and held it in until her lungs burned. The panic started to subside and she could think a little clearer. "You knew… you knew they were coming."
"Yeah, a change in guard rotation tipped me off. Figured I could use a little back up, someone who wouldn't seem out of place standing around with me. When I saw Cullen earlier, I asked him to pass the message along." He frowned, his hands tightening around hers. "Didn't think they'd nearly cut your ear off attacking me though. Bastards."
"I hoped the Ben-Hassrath would let you go," she whispered. She knew just how good an agent Iron Bull had been to them, had thought it might buy him a little leeway.
"They did. This wasn't a hit, it was a formality." He frowned. "They're making sure that I know I'm Tal-Vashoth." Shaking his head, he stepped away and looked over the battlement where he'd thrown the assassin. "Tal-Va-Fucking-Shoth."
Her dainty hands were on his back, and he remained perfectly still. Her hair tickled his skin as her forehead rested between his shoulders. "You're not Tal-Vashoth. You no longer follow the Qun. You're The Iron Bull. Mercenary captain of the Inquisition, Leader of the Chargers. You're a good man."
"I don't think you understand what it means to be Tal-Vashoth, what it's like to be a Qunari away from the Qun." He felt her draw away, and missed her immediately.
"'I deny the Qun.' Then he threw himself upon the guard's blade," she recited from memory part of an interview of a Qunari worker in Kirkwall. Bull shifted, and looked over his shoulder at her. She frowned. "You're afraid because so many of the Tal-Vashoth become savage." She paused, searching for something on his face to let her know if she was on the right path. She saw nothing, but remembering Cassandra's words, she pressed forward. "You won't."
They stared at each other for a long moment. He broke first. "How do you know?"
"They leave Seheron and turn their backs on the Qun. They have no family, no home, they band with other people who are just as desperate as they are. That's not you. You have a family, you have the Chargers. You have a home, for Skyhold is home to the Inquisition. The people here, we're not desperate, we're brave, and we're strong, and we love one another, and so you will never be what they are. You are not Tal-Vashoth, you are not savage. You are The Iron Bull, and I love you."
She didn't realize she'd started crying until he cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her tears away. "Kadan," he whispered. Before she could ask what it meant, his kiss chased the question away.
