Note: Edited 7/17/20

Hi All, First thank you for reading! Thank you to those who've commented and thank you to those who just read. I'm really glad people are enjoying this.

Now, as you've seen I don't really do notes on here, but I felt like this was needed. First this chapter will have a lot of inner monologue, so if that bores you, sorrynotsorry? This chapter also deals and talks about PTSD, which I feel is very important to talk about and isn't talked about enough in the real world and the game world… so I wanted to expand on that here.

If you have experienced signs and symptoms of PTSD please talk to someone (could be a medical professional or someone you trust) and be kind to yourself by getting the help that is right for you.- J

Chapter 4

Bull and Casimir stood on the edge of the cliff overlooking what would soon be the ruins of Haven. They had worked together to get the injured up the steep climb, Bull with the abled bodied, but untrained, while Casimir allowed the more severely injured to ride him up the narrow path without too much of a fuss. Now, with everyone safely out of the Chantry, the odd pair stood together, silently waiting for the one person who had yet to make it back.

The moment Cullen set off the rocket to signal the safety of the group, the sound of a trebuchet launching echoed through the valley. The avalanche tore through the valley with a deafening sound, but there was no Herald who appeared out of nowhere. They watched the valley and enemy troops become engulfed in snow, yet no pink tiefling made an off handed remark. The Archdemon took off and disappeared into the dark night, but there was still no sign of the miracle woman. They stood on the cliffedge waiting. The snow had taken over what once was their camp, but no sign of life emerged from the wreckage.

"It's time to go," Cullen said solemnly as he eyed Bull and the horse, who were both looking out into the night.

"We can't leave her," Bull stated slowly.

"The Herald told me to move the troops once the trebuchet went off," Cullen replied. Bull felt the wind rush out of his lungs as the words sliced through him, adding a new scar. She had planned on not making it out. Sinfi had planned to not come back.

The floodgates of Bull's mind broke, all of the re-edjucators' hard work undone in an instant. Images of fallen Qunari, blood running down the cobblestone streets of a destroyed town, the sound of screams for the wounded, and good people lost to the violence bombarded Bull. He couldn't save them, and he wasn't able to save her. If he had done something differently, said the right thing, had better control on the situation then, maybe… But Sinfi was a raging wildfire, hurricanes that hit shore, lightning striking the earth; she was chaos incarnate and could not be tamed. Bull looked down towards the commander. He wanted to punch this man for allowing Sinfi to go out alone to face Corypheus and then punch himself for the exact same reason. In the end, Bull just needed to punch something.

Sinfi's blood was on his hands.

Seheron's blood was on his hands

This was his fault.

His fault

His fault

His-

Cullen placed a hand on his bicep, silence quelled Bulls mind. The Qunari saw the grim expression of the human commander's face. He knew, all too well, the turmoil spiraling in Bull's mind as if it echoed his own. They shared a nod; now was the time to keep moving and keep pushing. There were living people who needed them right now. The ghosts of the past could wait for when they were safe. The Iron Bull grabbed Casimir's reins and gave them a quick tug to tell him it was time to go, but the horse stood still in his vigil waiting for his rider.

"We have to go," Bull whispered to the steed, who quickly flattened his ears and stomped one of his hooves in defiance. The Iron Bull sighed softly and rubbed the base of his horn.

Quickly the Qunari tried to pull the reins harder, using his brute strength to move the creature, who dug his hooves deeper into the snow in defiance.

"Casimir come," Bull said quickly in the little Infernal Sinfi had taught him, the horse stopped struggling and watched Bull as if waiting. "We have to think about the troupe."

The stallion looked out towards the last place he saw his rider, and let out one heartbroken whinny to call out for her. Silence welcomed them with open arms. If there had been any life, they would have surely heard something from the white void. Casimir lowered his head in defeat and let Bull lead him away from the cliffedge. As they continued their march, the horse and Bull would look back every now and again, towards where they had come, both hoping for a miracle.

The snow was deep as they trudged through the mountain pass. They had put the few children of Haven onto Casimir's back, tightly wrapped in blankets to fight against the billowing winds and snow of the Frost Backs. They kept marching through the night as they tried to find some suitable place for shelter. Yet, in the flat expanse there was none to find. Hope dwindled throughout the night, but they persisted and refused to give up after Sinfi's sacrifice. As if someone or something from above heard their silence and collective prayers, they came across a dip in the straights that would allow them some sort of coverage from the bad weather. Bull looked over at Cullen who nodded in agreement. They were all running on fumes by this point and this would be the best they could find, given the circumstances.

"We'll break camp here and start back at morning's light," the commander yelled out to the tired and soot covered faces. The troops and civilians were all physically, and emotionally, ragged from the fighting and the march through the winter storm. They dropped their heavy packs and started to set up the camp to rest. Luckily, the Inquisition had been able to grab a few large tents and bed rolls before their escape. If everyone crammed tightly together, they would be able to fit and survive the chilled night.

With little effort, Bull helped the tired children off of a distracted Casimir's back. Bull looked over at the horse who was watching the horizon, nostrils flaring as the wind howled towards them. He was waiting and watching for any sign that she was coming. Bull laid his hand on his neck gently, breaking him out of the spell.

"She'll find us," Bull whispered to the horse. It was more a statement for himself than for the beast, yet it seemed to comfort the creature standing next to him. Bull gave him another pat before walking over to help with the setup of camp. As he started to walk away, he heard the sound of hoofbeats following him. Bull stopped in his tracks and listened as the hooves stopped as well. He started walking again and the hooves plodded along behind him. Bull stopped again and looked over his shoulder to see a slightly disgruntled horse following right behind him.

"Huh," Bull said quietly. Sure, he had seen Casimir do similar things with Sinfi when they broke for camp, but that was understandable since she had raised and trained him. But Bull was not Sinfi. When he looked into the creature's warm, brown eyes, he swore he could see the pain of leaving his rider, the pain of loss of a loved one, and the feeling of being lost.

Bull reached out tentatively and rubbed the stallion's muzzle to try and comfort him and went about helping set camp up for the tired and weary. The Iron Bull made the rounds to help out where he could, all the meanwhile with a horse following his every move. They were hurt and lost but they had one another for now.

It was almost morning and Bull was sitting on the ground with his back against Casimir's. Heat radiated off the stallion, keeping The Iron Bull warm against the chill mountain winds. The Iron Bull's eye kept slowly drifting closed from lack of sleep. He had kept watch all night, allowing the majority to rest and recuperate. He'd gone through worse before. One night without sleep wouldn't kill him.

Yet, in that exhaustion his mind wandered to the missing Herald. Bull swore he could still feel where her hands had pressed against his chest and where her breath danced on his skin. He could smell the mixture of sandalwood and embrium, that Sinfi loved so deeply, still on his skin. In the delirium-like haze he could see golden eyes, filled with mirth and secrets, watching him. A few months ago, Sinfi Moon had once said that she would never cast a spell on him or magically charm him in any way. But as Bull leaned against Casimir, he was convinced that had been a lie. Everything in his mind wrapped around the pink tiefling and her will.

He may have been trapped under her spell, but she was gone. He didn't actually feel her hands, smell the sandalwood and embrium, or see the molten gold eyes trying to read him, like he tried with her. They were all memories that would forever be burned into his mind, playing in an infinite loop. He was trapped in a waking nightmare, knowing she was just another ghost that would haunt him at the midnight hour when he was alone with his thoughts. She would begin to appear the moment when sobriety would hit. He would constantly feel her near him throughout the day, like the missing parts of his fingers. Any moment, The Iron Bull would close his eye, and she would be there watching him; eyes gleaming, a smirk on her full lips, sharp dagger like features, and one hundred percent Sinfi Moon of the Vistani. He would forever hear her voice calling his name and the bell like laughter any time the wind blew just right. Just like all those he had lost on Seheron, she had become a ghost that haunted him. Sinfi Moon was now part of the collection of mistakes and bad calls that The Iron Bull carried like the scars on his body.

The Iron Bull had been the cause of all of their deaths and would be the one to rightfully pay the price for his shortcomings. The re-educators had worked hard to turn him back into a weapon for the will of the Qun. Once they had deemed him mended and battle ready, he was thrown out into the world, away from the Qun and everything Bull clung to like a life raft in the ocean of guilt. Deep down, The Iron Bull would never be "fixed" for everything he had destroyed. The person who had been shipped to Seheron was dead, and in its place was this husk of a Qunari. The Iron Bull was no longer the child his Tama once knew or Hissrad known by his friends. Whoever he had been was lost in the jungles of Seheron and, in his place, returned a broken and bad Qunari.

In the darkness, Bull swore he could see a dark figure stumbling through the snow towards them. It was hunched over and covered against the winter storm's chill as they pushed and fought onward. In the fog of his mind he swore he could make out a pair of curled ram like horns, but the better part of him knew that was just a figment of his imagination. Bull found himself getting up slowly, eyes trained on the ghost coming towards him. Silently, he walked towards the figure. Maybe this was his end to pay for all the blood on his hands. Maybe the ghosts had finally come for him, to seek the vengeance they so rightly deserved.

He watched the figure fall and, instinctively, Bull quickened his pace in the snow. They laid there on the ground, unmoving as drifts of snow started to wash over them, obscuring them. Bull knelt down in the snow and turned the figure over. Pink skin and raven hair greeted him, her eyes were closed but he knew they held a golden depth inside. It wasn't a ghost. Sinfi didn't disappear at his touch. It was her and she was real and solid in his arms. Cautiously, The Iron Bull ran his finger over her chilled face. Sinfi's eyes opened slightly.

"You were right after all," she whispered quietly, with a smile. "I made it back."

"That you did," Bull whispered back and couldn't help but smile down at her. Cautiously, Bull picked the Herald up. She was bruised and battered, but alive. She curled into his touch and, as she clung to him, all Bull could hear in his mind was:

Not your fault.

The Breach has been sealed. Haven has been overrun. Corypheus has corrupted the templars and is the real threat.

Sinfi is safe and alive.

Bull

Sinfi had been asleep for two days, her body recovering from the beating it had taken against the fight with Corypheus and the corrupted Red Lyrium Templars. Morale was low. They had lost everything, but they had their lives, which Bull would argue was better than what had been the alternative Cullen had suggested in the chantry. Mother Giselle had released The Iron Bull from Sinfi's side and continued to keep vigil over the sleeping Herald so he could get some semblance or rest.

Yet, rest seemed to be the last thing anyone would be able to get, currently. The advisors of the Inquisition were fighting loudly across the makeshift campground. They were running themselves in continuous circles about next steps, but nothing seemed to be good enough for them to agree on a direction. Hours of arguing and nothing was coming out of it. It was clear everyone was at their wits end and a unifying force was desperately needed to save the remnants of the inquisition.

Under the shouting, he could hear the low tones of the revered mother. Sinfi was up, but he knew she was still weak and would do better without being bombarded by too many people all at once. He could wait.

Bull continued to watch the bickering between the higher ups before they all broke apart and drifted towards their different corners in avoidance of the others. Bull watched as the Herald slowly walked out of her tent towards the center of the camp. She caught the eyes of her people before taking Mother Giselle's hand. They looked at one another and in unison started:

"Shadows fall/

And hope has fled/

Steal your heart/

The Dawn will come/"

They were singing. Their voices carried on the air as firelight burned through the darkness of night. Voice after voice joined the hymn; their song ringing off the peaks around them. Slowly, people started making their way toward the exposed Sinfi, worry no longer in their eyes as she was now a living miracle to them. She was no longer the Herald in their eyes; she was every hope and dream made into flesh and bone.

Her eyes caught Bull's with a smile as she continued to sing.

"Her touch was like a fire that did not burn. And by her touch, I was made pure again." It took every ounce of willpower in Bull not to jump when he heard Cole's voice beside him.

"Shit, Kid," Bull looked down at the unknown creature that was Cole. Solas had said he was a spirit, whereas Cassandra thought he was a demon in disguise. Even though both options unsettled The Iron Bull, Cole was a good kid. Weird, but good.

"Secret smiles and unknown words that sound like honey. She is your beacon burning away the ghosts in the dead of night."

Bull thought about telling him that wasn't exactly right or that wasn't him, but when his eye caught Sinfi, dawnstone shining in the light and the gems hanging off her horns looking like constellations framing her face, Bull knew the kid was right. She was his beacon in the night.

Bull collapsed onto the chair across from Sinfi. He was tired and sweaty after another long day of moving heavy loads of debris from the ruins of Skyhold. Everything in him screamed to sleep or relax, but here he was to work on paperwork that needed to be done. Luckily for Bull, in front of him sat a large mug of ale waiting for him. Bull grabbed the mug and quickly gulped down half of it without much effort. Finding Skyhold was a miracle. Yes, the fortress might as well have been ruins, but it was theirs and they could rebuild. Hope flourished in the crumbling walls as everyone banded together to do what they could. Day in and day out they all worked to make this place somewhere worthy of the Inquisition.

"Welcome back, The Iron Bull," she greeted without looking up from the paperwork in front of her.

Unfortunately for her, Sinfi Moon wasn't entirely healed up, so her task was to catch up with all the paperwork that came with espionage. She still had a few broken ribs, bruises over different parts of her body, and a limp that didn't seem to want to go away. However, she was resilient and in decent spirits for someone who had been forced out of the field to heal. In the end, she was alive, which was the important part.

The dawnstone woman looked up at him briefly, with a quick smile, before going to the scattered piles of paperwork that Varric had deemed as 'organized chaos'. Sinfi knew where every report was, but to everyone else it looked like complete disarray. Even looking through the reports, they were a mixture of different languages. Some resembled ones Bull knew, others looked nothing remotely speakable, even though Sinfi assured him they were.

Quickly, Sinfi pulled out a stack of papers from a pile to her right and handed them to Bull without another word. They had created a system of working on reports together at days end in The Herald's Rest over a glass or two of their preferred poisons. Working together with this much-hated task, and in the tavern, made the experience a little less grueling. They would sit and talk about work, their different words, or just be in silence with one another.

"What's this?" he questioned before looking at the paper. He could see a few words in Qunlat indicating it had been specifically for him.

"My limited Qunlat says the Qunari want an alliance," she stated as she filed away the report she had been working on. "Or it's an invitation to an orgy. Could easily be either or with you."

Bull let out a throaty chuckle, "If it is, I'll see if I can get a plus." He gave her a flirtatious wink, causing her to roll her eyes, playfully, before looking over at him expectantly.

He read through the pages quickly. Sinfi was right, they wanted to work with the Inquisition, which wasn't just big, it was momentous. The Qunari had never reached out to work with another political power before, this would be the first time they would create an outside alliance.

"It's an alliance," Bull stated as he flipped through the last few pages, trying to find some sort of clause or joke.

"Not nearly as fun," Sinfi said with a smirk before turning serious. "An alliance with the Qunari would be powerful," she said as she weighed the calculated risks and precautions that came with accepting anything from the Qunari.

"It would," Bull agreed cautiously.

"But?" Sinfi asked slowly, hearing his hesitation. Bull sighed as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"But I'm apprehensive," he watched Sinfi as he spoke. "They don't like the Venatori or red lyrium. But they really don't like Corypheus. They want to pair up for a mission to thwart some Venatori smugglers. Just you, me, the chargers, and a few dreadnoughts. No actual forces to potentially tip the smugglers off."

Bull was silent for a bit, before continuing, "But, even though it all makes sense on paper as to why they would reach an actual alliance, something just doesn't feel right." Sinfi was silent before getting up and walking stiffly over to his side of the table.

With care, she hoisted herself up onto the edge in front of him, without making too much of a pained expression. The soft silk of her skirt pooled over one of his legs. She crossed her legs with much more ease, the slit in the dark blue material opening to reveal pink legs and shoeless feet. Bull wanted to run his calloused hands up the exposed flesh, just to feel her soft skin once more. Everything inside of The Iron Bull was begging him to pull her off the edge of the table and into his lap. He wanted to make good on his promise from Haven that he wasn't done with Sinfi yet, but he eyed the dark purple and yellow bruises around her abdomen and clavicle. She was in no state for him to desire more than drinks and paperwork.

"My first undercover mission for the Vistani had me staying in the capitol for an extended period of time. I got so used to being away from my people, that the moment I would see the carts come back into the city every year, my heart would stop," Sinfi paused at the memory. "I had become so used to the idea of them being out there in the world and me being over in my own little bubble, that when they were back, I would always fumble some part of my mission. It was always something little, but it was enough."

Bull tried to shrug nonchalantly, "The Qun wants us to expand, just never thought I'd see the day of it actually happening."

"You don't want that, do you?" Sinfi asked slowly and she watched his steely eyes.

"Some people would be fine under the Qun. Cullen, Cassandra, even Blackwall, for instance. They live in order, they need order, and the Qun could offer that. They would be able to thrive," Bull paused as he thought about some of their party members. "And then there are people like Sera, Varric, or Dorian who would be crushed underneath it. The Qun is not for everyone."

"What about me?" Sinfi quickly asked Bull, taking him slightly by surprise as she gently ran her fingertips down from the lobe of his ear to the side of his neck. The gesture was intimate and could be seen as a touch shared between two, consenting, lovers. In this situation, however, the two were both spies. Every action and reaction could have a motive, like her feeling his pulse to detect any hesitation or lies.

"Boss, you couldn't be caught by the Re-educators even if they sent teams of Ben-hassrath after you," it wasn't a lie. In actuality, The Iron Bull could not see the newly made Inquisitor bending or believing in any faith or institution. What he could see was her infiltrating the Qun and starting a coup or revolution within the ranks and destroying everything. Bull watched as a wide grin spread across her face, showing the slightly more prominent and pointed canine teeth. If this was a test, he passed.

"I didn't realize compliments and flattery were part of the contract with the chargers," Sinfi drawled out as her hand lifted from his neck and dropped into her lap.

"Full service, Boss," Bull winked quickly, causing Sinfi to laugh.

"You look like an idiot when you do that."

She was right. He did look like an idiot, but it got her to laugh, which was all that mattered. He helped her off the table as she got up and walked back to her side.

"Send the report to Red and have her and Josie facilitate," Sinfi said, using his nicknames as she pulled out a different piece of paper. "We'll add it to the list of things in the Storm Coast we have piling up."

The Iron Bull was working with Krem. Their contact to the Ben-Hassrath would be at Skyhold in a few days and Bull wanted to make sure they were all prepared. Which meant rigorous training for the chargers. The Iron Bull didn't want any surprises during the mission, or afterwards. With the Qunari coming to this side of the map, Bull also couldn't help but think of the possibility of what was to happen after the alliance, and wanted to prepare them for the inevitable invasion.

"Krem, if you don't put all of your weight behind this, there's no chance you'll break their defense," Bull said and he put the shield down, glaring at his second in command. They had been working on the shield bash for over an hour, and yet he still hadn't come close to breaking the wall Bull had created.

"To be fair to Krem," Varric said from where he sat on the stone wall with book and pen in hand. "Other Qunari don't have rippling bellies full of ale and food."

Bull stopped in his tracks and looked at the dwarf as Krem laughed, "That hurts, Varric. That is hurtful."

The Iron Bull could hear the bell like the laughter of Sinfi. Quickly, he looked over to watch as she placed a hand on Cullen's chest and shook her head. She laced her arm through Cullen's outstretched arm as he led her towards his office. He felt Cole next to him before he heard him.

"Pink carnation held by iron gauntlets. Eyes filled with hope as wind tousled the blond hair. 'It reminded me of you.' Voice filled with nerves. He knows he shouldn't hope, but can't help it. He doesn't care about the ramifications," Cole paused, eyes dancing between the pair as if he were reading a book. "She can help but smile and blush before taking the sweet flower."

Bull stood there silently as he watched the pair walk across the training grounds together. Their words covered by the sound of swords clashing. Cullen held the door to his office open for her and she disappeared into the chamber, hips swaying as she walked into the darkness, followed by the commander.

Sinfi had been distracted lately and had refused to let Bull in regarding it. Since she had healed and her quarters had been finished, their nightly reports in the tavern had come to a halt. She was constantly going to and from meetings with the advisors and dignitaries who had started to flock to the Inquisition's keep. Rumors of her revealed appearance intrigued the royals who were, desperately, trying to get closer to the Inquisition. All the meetings, though, meant what little freetime she had was, generally, late in the night and reserved for just her.

In the end, it made sense she had gotten close to Cullen. He was there day in and day out during the meetings. He was a good man and fighter who could hold his own. She was starting to become higher standing in society and needed someone who would be able to match her. Yet, deep down, Bull loathed the little touches and smiles she gave the Commander and wished to be in the human man's shoes. Cullen had been the one willing to let her go into a suicide mission alone. He had been the one willing to leave her for dead. Bull had been too late, it was his fault.

"Kid, it might be best to keep that to yourself," Varric said softly as he eyed Bull who was still watching the closed door.

"But she-"

"It doesn't matter Kid," Bull said, interrupting him as Bull quelled his turbulent thoughts. "Let her have some privacy, though. She deserves that much," Bull put up his shield with renewed concentration.

"Okay Krem, one more time."

They stood on a cliff that overlooked the crashing tides of The Waking Sea. The cold rain that seemed to perpetually plague the Storm Coast, pelted mercilessly on the three individuals. The Iron Bull was soaked to the bone, but he couldn't care less right now as the words reverberated in his mind.

Your men need to hold that position, Bull.

Gatt, they do that, they're dead.

If you signal them now they may still have a chance.

Before, this would have been a call Bull could make without issue. The Qun and his people were priority. Sacrifices to The Qun were expected as long as they were for the betterment of The Qun. Yet, as Bull watched the Venatori approaching his unsuspecting Chargers, Bull realized these were also his people. The Iron Bull was a bad Qunari and was torn between two different duties; one to his country and one to his people. He could only save one, then would be forced to live with the inevitable death and betrayal of the other.

Gatt stood on The Iron Bull's right and Sinfi to his left, both watching and waiting for the call that had to be made, but Bull just couldn't do it. He looked over towards Sinfi, eyes hopeful for some sort of guidance. Her golden eyes were sorrowful as she shook her head slowly, signaling she knew what he wanted her to do and refused to be that for him.

"Boss," he whispered, hurt echoing in the single word.

"I can't be the one to make your call, Bull," she took a ragged breath as she tried to find the right words. "If you were Vistani, this would be the moment you have completed training your horse and received your vardo. Now it is time to choose your path; the open world or your duty to your Troupe." Bull watched her look out, almost mournfully, to the waves crashing below as she clutched a charm to her chest.

In another life, he knew she would have made the call for him. But, here and now, her beliefs were too strong for her to take this moment from someone. She could not take choice from someone, even if they had never grown up with the idea of personal freedoms. Lives may have not been on the line in the coming of age tradition of the Vistani, but in her eyes this was his moment to choose the life he wanted to lead.

The Qun was safe, the Qun was his duty, but most of all The Qun was life. Yet the faces of Krem, Rocky, Dalish, and the rest of The Chargers stayed ever present in his mind. The memories of promised casks of ale after a mission well done or helping Krem with perfecting his shield bash made his chest puff out in pride. Yes, he missed Par Vollen and the other Qunari, but Bull realized that The Chargers were his Troupe. This would hurt, this may break him, but with them he could potentially heal. Bull looked over at Sinfi, and with Her he could be behind something to truly believe in.

The Iron Bull gripped onto the horn to signal retreat and slowly unfastened it from his belt. Gatt and Sinfi watched him closely as he brought it to his lips.

"Hissrad, you'd be throwing everything away. You'd be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth," Gatt said, anger spiking in his voice. "With everything you've given the Inquisition, half of the Ben-Hassrath think you're Tal-Vashoth already."

Bull dropped the horn slightly and looked at his friend and companion for many years. Gatt, the spitfire who had been saved by the Qun, and The Iron Bull. It wasn't just the Qunari on the Dreadnaught he was failing, it was also his friend who had been there even after Seheron. Proof that The Qun may not be perfect but it worked for most.

"Gatt," Bull said softly, his hard exterior breaking. "They're my men."

Bull lifted the horn, it cut through the thunder, rain, and crashing waves and rang out into the harbor around them. They watched the Chargers fall back quickly in silence. Meanwhile, the Dreadnaught quickly became overrun by the Venatori. Bull looked towards Sinfi, tears mixed with rain as she smiled towards where the Chargers had disappeared. He picked the Troupe and she knew it.

"I stood up for you," anger faded to betrayal in Gatt's voice. "Why Hissrad?"

"His name is The Iron Bull," Sinfi's words cut deep into Gatt as he looked towards her with renewed anger.

"So it would seem, she-devil," Gatt's visage hardened to stone. "Any alliance with the Qunari is no longer an option. You will no longer have access to any Ben-Hassrath reports or contents."

"So be it, anguis," Sinfi hissed.

Gatt turned from them in silence and started to leave. He paused slightly and looked over his shoulder at Bull.

"I believed in you," Bull closed his eyes in sorrow at Gatt's words.

"I know," Bull stated, footsteps receded as Bull and Sinfi watched the firefight.

"We may be able to save some when the ship starts to sink," Sinfi said softly, trying to comfort the hurt.

"That's the thing, Boss, Qunari ships don't sink," Bull said. They watched the horizon light up in the fog as the Dreadnaught exploded, taking out any forces around it, along with any chance of survivors. Bull felt a tear roll down his face, but he refused to look away.

His fault.

The Iron Bull leaned up against the battlements, staring out at the mountain range protecting the new home of the Inquisition. It had been weeks since the dreadnaught incident and Bull finally felt as if the waters around everything had calmed. The betrayal to the Qun didn't sit well with him. The moment he saw the chargers around a table drinking and laughing, he knew he had done the right thing. Even if it hurt like hell. The ghosts of the dreadnaught haunted him daily. They were silent as they watched him go about his day and life. At night, they would stand in the corner of his room when he couldn't sleep. The only sound they made was that of the seawater dripping from their charred flesh. The look in their eyes said everything he already knew:

Betrayer

Failure

Coward.

He felt her finger tips slowly run down his spine. He closed his eyes at the touch.

"You're thinking about them again, aren't you," her voice was soft. There was no judgment or accusation, it was just a statement.

"Yes," Bull replied quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the mountain tops.

"I could… help," her fingers ran slowly up his spine to the base of his skull. "I have some tricks that could make you forget the pain for some time."

Bull grabbed her wrist lightly and pulled it away, "Boss, let me have this."

Sinfi nodded silently and leaned up against the battlements, looking out towards the snowscape.

"I noticed a change in the guard shift," she stated slowly in Thieves' Cant without looking at Bull, eyes focused forward.

"Yeah," Bull said. She knew what was happening. "They'll be here any moment."

"Need help?" She asked, no questions, just acceptance that this was happening.

As if on cue, he felt the dagger hit him between the shoulder and clavicle. Quickly, Bull pulled the dagger out and threw it at one of the assassins, lodging it right between his eyes.

"Ebost Issala, Tal-Vashoth!" the second assassin yelled out before Bull picked him up and threw him off the battlements without much effort.

"Yeah, yeah. My soul is dust. Yours is scattered all over the ground though… so…" Bull sighed before letting out a slight laugh at the situation. "Sorry Boss, thought I may need back up. Guess I'm not even worth sending professionals for."

"Let me take a look at that wound," Sinfi tutted softly before stepping close to him. Bull caught the hand reaching towards his harness to remove it, but felt her other hand rest on his peck. He kept hold of her hand, tight enough to stop her from reaching further, but loose enough for her to leave his grip whenever she chose to.

"It's fine, Boss," Bull breathed out before letting a lazy smile grace his lips. "I've hurt myself worse fooling around in bed."

"And if they used poison?" She questioned quickly, but made no motion to leave.

"Oh, they definitely did," Bull said almost jovially. "I've been dosing myself with the antidote. If I hadn't, I would be going crazy and puking my guts out by now."

"Maybe it was too much for me to hope that they would just let you go," Sinfi spoke slowly as her golden eyes locked onto his. Bull should have pushed the dawnstone woman out of his arms, yet he couldn't find the strength to.

"They did," his voice hitched softly. He didn't know if it was from relief or hurt, "Two men with blades against me. That wasn't an actual hit. Just a formality to remind me I'm Tal-Vashoth."

"Tal- Va-fucking-shoth," Bull growled out and shook his head in disbelief.

"You've acted like one for years and that didn't change you," Sinfi paused before asking. "What makes you think that will happen now?"

"That was just a role," Bull explained. "This is my life as one of those- Murderers, bandits, monsters, who turn their back on the Qun. I've killed hundreds of them, and now I'm one of them."

A fire lit in Sinfi's eyes at his words. Her anger flared, heat gathering in her fingertips as they pressed into his skin. "Nugae," Sinfi spat angrily. "You are a good man."

"Without the Qun to live by-"

"Bull, you are a good man. If the Ben-Hassrath don't see that, then it's their loss."

"Thanks, Boss," Bull said softly. Maybe it was the way the sun was setting behind the mountain peaks or the way her eyes were aflame like embers in a fire; The Iron Bull believed her.

"Whatever I miss, whatever I regret… this is where I want to be."

Bull wanted to say more, he wanted to do more, but most of all, he wanted to show her he meant every word. The image of pink carnations and hope filled eyes stopped him. He may not have the Qun to guide him anymore, but he knew not to stand in front of her happiness. Bull pulled away from Sinfi as confusion crossed her face.

"I'll clean this up and let Red know of the incident," Bull stated as if he was speaking to a higher up. Sinfi gave him a nod in understanding before backing away.

Bull watched her leave. Once she was out of sight, he felt himself turn and punched the stone wall, pain igniting in his brain.

His fault.

anguis- snake

Nugae- Nonsense/ trash... closest thing to Bullshit using one word.