*Notes at the end of the chapter
Chapter Six
Bull found Sinfi sitting behind her desk, naked, as the light of sunset streamed into her chambers. Her feet were on the edge of the chair, her tail wrapped around her legs, holding them in place. Raven hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head and somehow secured with a quill. All traces of jewels, baubles, and make up had been removed, leaving just her. A glass of dark red wine was held dangerously by one hand while the other held onto a piece of parchment. Sinfi hadn't noticed him yet, allowing Bull to lean up against the wall, and soak in the rare image of her in her natural state.
They had been doing this dance for two weeks, while stuck in Skyhold as they waited for contact from Harding and the scouts in the Western Approach. Every other day, or so, Sinfi would make her way to The Herald's Rest and ask Bull if he would be able to go over reports later in her chambers. He would simply say, 'Sure Boss', with a smirk just for her. She would smile and turn to leave. He would then get the opportunity to watch her saunter away, her hips swaying a little more prominently for his own amusement. Thus leaving him to count the hours until he could make up an excuse to Krem as to why he had to go and probably wouldn't be back till after closing.
With multiple weeks of this repeated song and dance, Krem, Varric, and Dorian had started to catch onto their secret affair. Now, when Bull would get up to leave, he would hear some sort of side remark from one of the three. It didn't matter to Bull if people knew about his sex life. Hell, he had been open about his relations with the serving girls and the two Chantry sisters. At the same time, Bull knew there was a lot more riding on Sinfi's image than his. She may have looked like a creature they had all been taught to fear in Thedas, but her image as the Herald had to stay as untainted as possible. Luckily, the mercenary, rogue, and mage all understood the delicate situation and that loose lips could be costly. The jabs were quiet enough for their ears only.
Secrecy had not been the only agreed on stipulation to their arrangement. Along with Bull's rules for safety, Sinfi had laid some of her own ground rules. First, there was no staying the entire night. Bull would have to leave by morning light before the servants started fluttering around. Servants had a love of gossip and them seeing The Iron Bull leaving her chambers would spread like wildfire. The second rule was that there were no names for endearment, she was Sinfi and He was Bull that was it. During the throws of passion he could get away with calling her his personal desire demon, but that was the line. Her third, and final, requirement was a request that had made him chuckle; if it was ever required, he was to be her dance partner. At first, it had made him laugh, but once he saw the seriousness in her eyes Bull quickly stopped. Dancing reminded Sinfi of home and uncomplicated times, and right now she needed uncomplicated.
Bull cleared his throat and watched as Sinfi startled slightly. Her eyes landed in him as a smile curled onto her lips. Sinfi tossed the report that had been in her hand back onto the desk, with a curled finger and wanton smile, she beckoned the Iron Bull towards her.
"I was starting to wonder if you had stood me up," she said jokingly.
"Never," his voice was soft as he walked towards her. He pulled the quill out of her hair and let it tumble down in dark waves. Her body was tense and rigid from the day. "Bad report?" Bull asked quietly.
"I'm not sure," she answered, her voice still sounding far away as Bull pushed her freed mane to the side.
"Talk to me," Bull calmly bid as he started to rub the knots out of her shoulders, causing her to sigh heavily before throwing back the rest of the glass of wine in a gulp.
"We still haven't had contact with Harding from the Western Approach yet, so we're still stuck here at an impasse. Meanwhile, Corypheus is out there and continues to grow stronger as we sit and do nothing. As if that isn't enough," Sinfi let out a groan as she eyed the parchment she had tossed onto the desk. "That, was a personal letter from my mother."
Bull stayed silent, but looked over to the lone page. Even if he couldn't read a word of it, Bull had started to recognize the telltale juxtaposition of harsh lettering and elegant script, a cross between Infernal and the Vistani dialect unknown to outsiders. Personal effects that were meant for her only. Even though Bull had started to learn some Infernal, he would never understand this creation. Sinfi had tried, desperately, to keep her personal life and her job here separate. She kept information about the Vistani and her family limited. She gave just enough information to satisfy her companions' curiosities, but not enough to potentially use against her. Quietly, they both knew the longer Sinfi was the Inquisitor and the longer she stayed in Thedas, the faster the line between the two worlds would erode until there was nothing left.
"Nothing you wanted to hear I take it," Bull said slowly before lowering his head into the crux between her neck and shoulder, kissing and nipping at the flesh. He felt her fingers reach up and rub the base of his right horn as she let out a soft moan before sighing as she weighed what information she was willing to give him today.
"The Vistani have decided to support the Inquisition fully," Sinfi settled on. "The elders of the troupes have agreed it is time to send reinforcements to the cause, instead of just information."
"Is it your troupe they'll be sending for contact?" Bull asked against her skin.
"I'm… not sure," she hesitated slightly. "This is a very… unique situation. We try not to travel to Thedas because of how diverse we are. How do you think a Fereldan would react to a Lizard person when they can't even accept Qunari?" Sinfi sighed before pouring more wine into her empty glass.
"Yet," she continued quietly. "Desperate times come to desperate measures. My people want to help. It is also advantageous for us to potentially grow our reach into more places, and because I'm the Inquisitor it might actually be a possibility now. It could be just our troupe, maybe a few others decide to join… but it's possible everyone will come through the Mists."
"It almost sounds like the Qun trying to expand," Bull deadpanned.
"At least we turn it into a party," she countered, causing Bull to laugh.
"Fair," Bull said with a smirk before glancing up at her, seriousness renewed in his voice. "You're scared that they're coming."
She took a long gulp of her wine before responding, "I don't know if 'scared' is the best word. This was never planned for. The orders were simple: just like I did with Kirkwall, observe the Conclave. Observe, do not interfere, do not get attached…" Her voice petered off.
"Now you're the head of a group called the Inquisition, secretly fucking an ex-Ben-Hassrath, and your family, who's adept with spy craft, is coming for a visit," Bull finished for her.
"Yes…" Sinfi's face contorted as her voice hitched slightly. Bull stood up slowly. Gently, he took the glass of wine out of her hands and placed it on the desk next to the abandoned letter. With ease, Bull picked the pink tiefling up from the chair and brought her to the oversized canopy bed, laying her onto the red, silken sheets. Wordlessly, Bull pulled out blue, silken scarves from the bedside table and proceeded to bind Sinfi's wrists above her head, placing the end to quickly undo the knot in her palm for emergencies.
"When will they get here?" he asked softly as his fingers lightly traced her curves.
"In three days," she responded as her skin started to goose bump. She caught his eye, her golden orbs were filled with stress and anxiety. The Iron Bull ran his hand along her jawline and cupped her chin. Three days was short but there was enough time to prepare.
"This is what we'll do," he began, voice low and soothing. "We're going to enjoy tonight and forget about the letter. Tomorrow morning, you'll bring the letter to the counsel meeting and let Josephine do her job with all the last minute planning; she'll look stressed but we both know she loves it. Tomorrow, I'll come here at sunset, we'll set a plan for the next day, and then I will give you exactly what you need. We do this day by day, together."
Bull watched the worry slowly start to melt away from her eyes. Sinfi was more than capable of plotting next steps on her own. Orders and planning were not something she needed; they were just a byproduct. What she truly needed was a companion. Someone by her side keeping her company in the shadows, and The Iron Bull could be that.
He made up the excuse to play Wicked Grace with Varric, Dorian, and Solas in the main chamber of Skyhold the next day. The group Bull had selected was for many different reasons, but mainly, to everyone else this looked like a normal everyday occurrence, but for Sinfi, the majority of players were people she trusted; then in Solas's case, she at least respected him. Varric would never turn down the chance to play, Dorian would always agree for the free wine that Bull brought from the tavern, and Solas actually enjoyed the game. Bull made sure to pick the chair that was facing the counsel chamber so the Boss would see him when she came out; she would see him and know that he was there. Bull was drawing the game out on purpose to keep up the reasoning to be in the hall. He was there if the Boss needed him, no matter the situation.
The group jumped slightly as Sinfi slammed the door to the counsel chambers, the sound echoing in the hall of the keep. Josephine quickly emerged behind her and Leliana right on her heels.
"Lady Inquisitor we still-" Josephine started before Sinfi turned on her heel towards the ambassador and spymaster. Little bursts of flames licked Sinfi's fingertips. something had happened and Bull felt himself on the edge of his seat, ready to jump in if needed.
"We are done," Sinfi said. Her voice was calm and cool but her eyes betrayed her. They were a pair of infernos burning brightly. Leliana stepped towards her and observed her cautiously before speaking.
"Inquisitor this isn't the time for trivial matters," she said coolly.
"Trivial matters," Sinfi scoffed, slowly she made her way towards Leliana so they were toe to toe. Her voice turned venomous, "Do you really want to discuss two young 'Trivial Matters' in public then? Because I am happy to."
The game of Wicked Grace had frozen in place as Leliana and Inquisitor faced off in the main chamber of Skyhold. No one moved. No one said a word for fear of the furious Inquisitor turning her anger onto them. The silence that filled the normally rambunctious hall was deafening. The pair stood there staring the other down, neither one backing down from the challenge. Josephine calmly placed a hand on Leliana's shoulder, breaking the stare down.
"I thought not," Sinfi almost growled as she turned and proceeded to stalk out of the keep.
"That would be your cue, The Iron Bull," Dorian said softly as he continued to look very intently at his cards, as if they were the only thing that mattered in the world. Bull pushed himself out of his chair and turned to leave without a word.
"The Iron Bull chased after the Inquisitor, determined to help glue the pieces of her broken visage back together once more…" Varric mumbled to himself.
"You can do better than that, Varric," Solas chided slightly as he drew another card.
"Yeah… yeah I can."
Bull shook his head at the companions' banter as he left the keep and headed in the direction she had stormed off to. Sinfi may have been silent and deadly, but she was predictable when it came to her hiding spots. Bull took the steps two at a time up towards the battlements. The Inquisitor may have been fast, but he had long legs. He found her leaning against the forever chilled stone, looking longingly out towards the rest of the world. The coal that lined her eyes had been smudged in her escape and the dark berry lipstick had faded. A rolled cigarette was gripped tightly between two of her fingers, smoke curling around her profile.
"I didn't know you smoked," Bull said, trying to lighten the mood. She let out a breath of a laugh as she brought it to her lips and took a drag. She was silent as her eyes darted over the horizon, trying to find the best response to sate his curiosity.
"I generally don't. It's a bad habit picked up from... my brother," she explained and glanced over to her companion. A brother; another piece to the mystery of Sinfi Moon. Bull took the information and didn't ask for more.
"I picked it up in Seheron for a bit," Bull traded the information freely. "It helped keep us awake and alert in the twenty-four hour stints that required us not to sleep. The re-educators kicked the habit for me, but sometimes there's this deep urge I have. Late nights on the road I feel it the most."
"Stress can trigger the craving," Sinfi shrugged with another drag as silence filled the void.
"What happened back there Boss?" Bull finally asked as he settled in next to her, staring out to the mountain range. Sinfi let out a sigh, slowly letting the smoke roll out of her nostrils.
"Josephine and Leliana want to invite the dignitaries and royals to Skyhold to partake in the Vistani festivities," Sinfi explained. "Orlais, Fereldan, Antiva, all of it. They think it's a good idea and all I can think about is the potential damage to my family."
Bull grunted softly, recognizing the issue but not swaying either direction.
"Neither of them said it directly, but it would make a show of our way of life," both of them grimaced slightly at the idea.
"'Oh, look at the funny Vistani. Aren't they just adorable in their outrageous clothing with their singing and their dancing…. They're just like the little performing bears in the traveling circus!'" Sinfi mocked in an Orlesian accent before taking another drag. "Little do they realize, my people were enslaved and then hunted like dogs for generations for our powers."
Bull looked down at her, "Hence the obsession with freedom."
"Hence the obsession with freedom," she agreed as she flicked the butt of the cigarette off the cliff below them. She settled back against the stone with a sigh, "Hence being nomadic, hence the need for choice, hence family sticks together, hence the secrecy about our beliefs, hence a lot of things that make us… well, us."
"Your people must be pissed about Alexius then," Bull said with a slight smile. Sinfi let out a harsh laugh.
"Threads of Fate pardon me," Sinfi groaned slightly as she ran a hand through her hair. "My mother sent a personal letter after that report saying Baba was disappointed in me and my choice. Not the first time I've gotten a letter like that."
"What does Baba know anyway," Bull said with a wink, causing Sinfi to laugh.
"A lot, actually," another voice replied from behind them. Bull and Sinfi looked back towards the voice; Leliana stood there watching them before taking a few cautious steps closer. Sinfi went rigid as she watched the spymaster, eyes filled with caution. Everything about Sinfi's demeanor told Bull that she wasn't ready for this moment, yet it was here and there was no stopping it.
"Alistair was right; you look just like your mother," Leliana studied the Inquisitor, her face unreadable. "It's your eyes, though, that remind me the most of her. The last day I saw Vera, she had turned all of the hurt into anger, her eyes looked like a raging fire instead of gold. She had been betrayed, but so had I. She wasn't the only one who had been left by someone who had promised them the world."
Sinfi looked away quickly as realization hit. Slowly, she exhaled and looked back to the spymaster, "I'm…I didn't know."
"Most don't," the spymaster said with a twinge of sadness. "History likes the fantasy of the Hero and King Alistair's supposed love story and forgets about the ones who were burned by it."
Silence fell between all three of them. Bull knew this wasn't his conversation and, instead, had been caught in the crossfire.
"I didn't know about Vera's condition when she left. Only until meeting you, did I discover that the twins even existed," Leliana said. "We would- I would protect them if Alistair accepted the invitation."
Sinfi let out a frustrated sigh, "And how do you suggest we protect the rest of the troupe?"
"We don't," Leliana shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "We let the dignitaries start rumors of the Vistani and their magic, allowing them acceptable passage into elite circles and able to hear private conversations. They're beyond capable of infiltration, even more so with Vera being your spymaster," Sinfi glanced over towards Bull.
"It could work, Boss," Bull crossed his arms as Sinfi gave him a knowing look. "It feels demeaning, but it would work."
"Okay," Sinfi said slowly. "We get the Vistani to infiltrate Thedas."
"How many of them are there, Chief?" Krem asked quietly as they watched wagon after wagon roll into Skyhold. Everything, from the wagons to the people were brightly colored. Men and women of all different races and ethnicities either hung off the sides of the wagons or seemed to dance along them. Music and laughter flowed from every cart.
"No idea," Bull answered. "The Boss doesn't even know. Apparently the letter said something along the lines of just 'We're coming,'" he finished as he glanced back at Sinfi who was standing with the advisors on the landing to the Keep. She was dressed in sheer pink silks with elaborate, golden stitching and sapphire beading. Gold and silver chains wrapped around her horns and body, gems of every color hung off the metal and dangled against her skin. When she had walked out, Josephine had looked like she was about to have an aneurysm, while Bull hadn't been able to take his eyes off the tiefling. Now looking at the other women of the Vistani, Sinfi looked almost modest with the long translucent bell sleeves and only having one slit to her hip in her skirts. Compared to the rest of the group, she looked regal with the way the gems caught the light and how she stood, head held high.
Sinfi had, begrudgingly, given a quick crash course for the inner circle into Vistani customs and culture. It was an attempt for Josephine to try and curb any issues within Skyhold before they even arose. The main issue was that the roaming group liked to stay secretive about their way of life towards non-Vistani. They were cagey regarding their life. The Vistani had even helped spread and facilitate the rumors about themselves in order to make sure no one was completely sure who, or what, they were.
What Sinfi had been comfortable sharing, was that each troupe itself was self-sufficient, but knowledge and secrets were passed along between the troupes to help them as a whole. They were a matriarchal society, the leadership of the troupe being passed down from mother to eldest daughter upon crossing over to the Mists. If there was no daughter in the 'great family,' then power would pass to the next eldest matriarch, creating a new lineage. They were magical people, with the ability to harness wild magic unheard of in Thedas.
Some had the ability to see glimpses into the future, whereas others could curse those who crossed them. The matriarchs, though, had the power to do both and harness the power of the Mists; the way they traveled across dimensions and plains. The Mists and Fade were one in the same and the Vistani's connection to it was stronger than most. Their connection was so strong, the Mists and what they called the Threads of Fate, were worshipped and placed higher than any god known in their lands.
A single wagon broke off from the caravan and drove towards the landing where Sinfi and the advisors stood. As it was slowing down, a red tiefling jumped off the side. A guitar was strapped to his back and he was dressed in a mishmash of colorful and tight fitting clothes. Bull watched as he opened the wagon's back door and helped usher out five women, all ranging in ages and clothing, but four sets of curled ram horns were easy to spot. Finally, a pair of twin boys, no older than ten years of age, came out of the wagon, rough housing and laughing with one another; this had to have been Sinfi's family. Slowly, five more carts joined and went through a similar fashion of unloading. Every grouping had large numbers similar to the first family. They greeted each other with gusto, welcoming each other as if seeing a loved one after a long journey. Slowly, they quieted down and the great families stood next to one another, each in their own distinctive units.
"Salvē Otbasil! May the Mists have treated you well on your journey. The Inquisition welcomes you with open arms," Sinfi greeted loudly, head held high as she scanned the silent crowd. "May this unusual time be filled with laughter, celebrations, and wonder until the juskarn dis call you to wander once more."
Sinfi curtseyed low with her head bowed, the chains and jewels on her horns clinking in the wind. Silence followed as Sinfi kept her pose, waiting for something. Bull saw the red tiefling glance around before breaking away from Sinfi's family.
"Arkadas, you heard our beautiful Mistress of the Shadows, She may have been separated from us for long, but she is back home. Let us celebrate now, be merry, have a love affair or two," he winked at a grouping of girls in one of the great families, causing them to giggle, "But more importantly, let us welcome this new and strange lands into the folds!"
Applause erupted from the Vistani and Bull watched as wagons parked and the people buzzed around, setting up for something. Goods and wares were quickly brought out, casks of exotic wines and ales were cracked open with cheers. They worked together to turn the courtyard into their moving city.
Bull looked over towards Sinfi who had excused herself from the advisors. He watched as she first calmly walked down the stairs, but the moment her bare feet hit the earth, she took off sprinting as the red tiefling started running towards her as well. They crashed together with open arms, holding onto the other desperately as if they were each other's anchor to the world. With ease, Red picked her up off the ground and spun around with Sinfi in his arms, her laughter floated above everything. They stopped, both breathing heavily and pressed their horns against one another. He could see their lips moving, but couldn't read them.
Sinfi took a hold of the other man's arm as they pulled apart. Slowly, he led her to her waiting family. With a grimace, Bull turned and walked towards the battlements. He did not see when Sinfi turned to look into the crowd for him.
"You are him," Bull turned from where he stood on the battlement to find the older, human woman staring at him. Her voice was thick with an accent that the Iron Bull could only equate to the Vistani, yet unlike Sinfi's honeyed and alluring tones, this woman sounded brittle and hoarse. Her unfocused eyes were milky with age, making them stand out against her dark skin that had been leathered by years in the sun. The woman was short, even by human standards, and her hunched posture reduced her height even more. Yet she was not overlooked, and something about the way she held herself commanded attention still.
"The bull made of Iron," she finished.
"Normally, people settle with Bull, Iron Bull, or-"
"Ashkaari," she said, wrinkled lips forming a smile. Bull frowned slightly. He hadn't heard that name since childhood. His Tama had given him that nickname because he was clever and saw much more than the other children. He had kept that name close to his chest after becoming Hissrad, refusing to let others take it from him. In his mind, that name was only for Tama's lips. Even Sinfi wasn't aware of it.
"Yeah," he drew out, now starting to comprehend the warnings from Sinfi about the power of some of her people. Magic that was unknown in Thedas. Magic that was wild and uncontrolled.
"I was hoping that would bring you good memories," the woman said softly as she walked closer to him, cane clicking against the granite. "But I see I miscalculated. The Mists and Threads of Fate may have gifted me with the sight; but that doesn't mean I don't still put my foot into my mouth from time to time."
"You're one of the Matriarchs then?" Bull asked cautiously, unsure how he felt talking to someone who openly used magic to see into possible futures and into a person's soul.
"Oh yes," she said with a smile and looked towards him. "I am also Sinfi's grandmother," she looked almost proud to say that; not like the woman the Inquisitor had talked about who had been disappointed in her choices.
"Ma'am- "Bull started before being interrupted.
"You may call me Baba," she looked out towards the mountains. "I know what happened at Redcliffe. The Sight showed it to me. You sacrificed yourself to save my eldest granddaughter, meaning my lineage will continue. At minimum, you've earned the right to be informal with me."
"Just doing my job, Baba," Bull said with a grin, not exactly sure what to say.
"That's the thing, this is no longer a job for you, is it?" a wry smile crossed her lips as she turned back to him. "Give me your hand."
Reluctantly, Bull obliged her and put his hand out to her outstretched, bony fingers. Quickly she flipped his hand over so it was palm up. Bangles clinked and jangled as almost skeletal fingers traced the lines in his palm quickly.
"I see… You did keep your promise to the Chargers this time. Good for you. Sometimes you don't, which leads you down a dark path. The ghosts will fade with time. You must learn that lesson on your own though..." she paused at a small line in his palm. "But she came to you instead, interesting…" Babba traced a few more lines, whispering to herself in the mixture of languages Bull had stopped trying to guess. Her whispering and movement stopped in time, as if she found the answer she was looking for. Fingernail digging into one line as a wide smile and chuckle crossed her lips. She let go of his hand and Bull let it fall back to his side.
"We came right on time…. Yes, we did," Baba mumbled to herself as she opened the satchel at her side. Quickly, she pulled out a jar filled with a red, viscous liquid. With her free hand she reached out towards Bull, grabbing at his wrist and tugged at it with strength that surprised him.
"Kneel down for a frail old blind woman," she said. Bull silently found himself kneeling so they were level to one another. The jar opened with a loud pop in the Matriarch's hands. The smell of embrium and cloves wafted into Bull's nostrils. After dipping her fingers in the liquid, she quickly drew out markings onto his forehead and horns. The moment her fingers were finished with one shape, Bull could feel the liquid seep into his skin, leaving the once slick skin clean, dry, and with no trace of the liquid.
Babba stood back and looked as if she was admiring her work, "There. We won't have to worry now if I don't come back in time."
"Worry about what?" Bull asked cautiously and the old woman let out a cackle before patting his cheek tenderly.
"The Mists are fickle, little Ashkaari. If I tell you now, it might not happen," she paused for a moment. "I am glad you are on this path. Tama is happy you found your way to this path, as well."
Bull couldn't help but stare at this woman. All his unease from before washed away. Maybe it was from years of being a Ben-Hassrath, or magic, but something deep inside Bull knew she was telling the truth. Tama was happy for him, even if he had left the Qun, and went on to his own path.
And The Iron Bull realized that he was happy that he had found himself there, too.
Flames danced against the darkened sky, music and laughter rang out through all of Skyhold. The inner circle had dispersed throughout the Vistani camp, talking and partaking in the hospitality of the different troupes. The Matriarchs had invited Skyhold to partake in their nightly celebrations of another day of freedom that had once been denied to them. The night filled with song, dance, and story in honor of what they had risen from.
Bull was leaning against the tavern, watching a group of four Vistani dancing around the bonfire. More specifically, he watched Sinfi dancing around the fire with who he had figured were three of her sisters. All four were the color of dawnstone with ram like horns, but instead of golden eyes, the other three had eyes that looked like the sapphires Sinfi favored. The four sets of curled ram horns were adorned with baubles and bells, adding to the music with every movement. Their costumes glimmered in the firelight, each one adorned in silks ranging in colors and metallic threading.
They spun around dancing in unison to the music, hips moving in time with the drums. Sinfi's eyes were closed as she went about the motions from memory, a smile plastered to her face. She looked as if all her worries had been drained from her, making her look her real age. It was hard to remember, at times, that the Inquisitor was, in fact, ten years younger than Bull. So much had been thrown onto her shoulders in a short time. In the Iron Bull's mind, the stress of knowing and planning for the troupe's arrival had been worth it for this moment alone. To see Sinfi Moon in the world she belonged in.
"Captivating, isn't she?" Bull looked over to see the red tiefling from before standing next to him, a rolled cigarette between his lips. "Any man to win her heart would be lucky indeed."
With a snap of red fingers, a small flame appeared on his fingertips, golden cat-like eyes sparkled in the new light source. With a quick motion, he lit the cigarette then put out the flame. Bull eyed the man. His black hair had been slicked back to mirror the shape of his horns, features that looked like a dagger's edge, and familiar golden eyes observing him closely, as if Bull was his prey.
"You're her brother," Bull said, quickly seeing the resemblance. Bull watched a smirk form on the other man's lips.
"Twin actually, but yes, guilty as charged. I am Mordecai," he introduced himself before taking a drag. Mordecai looked Bull up and down as smoke blew out of his nostrils, "And you must be The Iron Bull."
"So, she's mentioned me," Bull couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked back towards Sinfi. Mordecai let out a laugh and then tutted softly as he looked towards his sister.
"That's the thing, The Iron Bull," he began with a sly grin. "She's clever and evades every question we've asked regarding you in our personal letters back and forth. She says you two aren't that close and that she doesn't know you well enough to answer our questions about you. She just parrots responses that you're a skilled warrior and well-trained spy. Yet, at the same time, we know from reports, you're always there, right by her side. Never far enough away to be out of the picture."
Bull watched the man with curious eyes, "What are you getting at?"
"Right to the point. I like that!" the tiefling laughed.
"You see those dancing triplets?" Mordecai pointed to the other pink tieflings. "They, and myself, are very interested to see what, or who, has gotten our sister oh so wound up."
"So, you've been sent here to scout," Bull crossed his arm.
"Smart and attractive," the man eyed Bull up and down with another drag before stating. "You're not her type."
"And what's her supposed 'type,'" Bull asked coolly.
"Human, hopelessly devoted to her, and in my opinion, dull. Which is not you," Mordecai rolled his eyes and glanced over towards where the Commander sat, cheeks red as the triplets started to dance around him. Sinfi had since sat down with Dorian, drinking wine together around the fire and enjoying the night, "I would have pegged captain fuddy-duddy over there for her personal bed warmer, but I am... happily surprised to be wrong." Mordecai gave Bull an actual smile. Something about the genuineness of it was off putting. This was a man who had been trained in the shadows like his sister. Sinfi was an observer and tasked to infiltrate and report, whereas her brother was the type of man you sent in for the kill. The tiefling frowned before flicking the butt of his cigarette off into the night as something shifted in him, a newfound seriousness crossed his face.
"I wouldn't be a good older brother if I did not come to see about your intentions with her. Now, I personally think Fi has just found herself a nice bed to crawl into," he quickly looked over to Bull. "Which, good for her. I couldn't care less about what, or who, she does in the dark of night. But then the triplets have concocted this theory in their romance addled brains that you, The Iron Bull," Mordecai poked Bull's peck. "Have somehow broken down the wall to our dear sister's heart after what happened last time."
"What happened before?" Bull asked cautiously and watched the flamboyant man with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Oh, you don't know?" Mordecai asked with a slight hint of disbelief as he scanned Bull's face. The corners of his lips turned down as something clicked in understanding as he looked to his sister. Sadness filled his eyes as he spoke to himself, "So she's sealed herself up this entire time then?"
The Iron Bull cleared his throat, "She's slow to trust. She only told me about you a few days ago." He tried to explain and glanced over to the man next to him, "If she cares about someone, she holds that close to her."
The red tiefling opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it quickly, as if he thought better. Mordecai looked back at The Iron Bull, half of his face was illuminated by the fire while the other half was cast into shadow. Golden, predator-like eyes softened towards Bull as silence hung in the air between them.
"Indeed," his voice was far off as he looked back towards his sister. "The Vistani have this crazy belief that twins share a soul. The pair will forever be bound together until the end of time. We share each other's happiness and sorrows. We are there to celebrate and mourn. Then we do everything in our power to help the other thrive, even if it may hurt at first. You will protect her with your life won't you?"
They were silent as they watched Sinfi and Dorian laughing at something. Her eyes caught Bull's in the fire light as a slow smile spread across her face, just for him, and Bull couldn't help but mirror it.
"Yes," Bull whispered.
"Good," Mordecai said quietly. "That is why I'm going to tell you the secrets of Sinfi Moon.
Vistani language translations:
Salvē Otbasil!- Welcome Great families
juskarn dis- Static Burn
Arkadas- the Vistani sub-group that values ostentation, show, pageant, and excess. With a love and flair for entertainment.
Note: Well Hi there... again this week... I may have originally blocked this chapter and last to have been one... and then actual writing may have blown that idea to bits.
A few notes: first that next chapter as you may have guessed will be a Sinfi chapter/ lore dump, I'm sorry if these last few (and next one) wont be as actual game event heavy, but I gotta set some stuff up before we get to the next phase.
Second, I'm currently looking for a Beta. If your reading this and have been a Beta before, are interested, and want to help a dyslexic dysgraphic girl out PM me please... I'd like to go through and clean things up grammar and spelling wise, also having a second set of eyes before posting is always helpful.
-ThatTheaterKid