Chapter Eight
The Iron Bull sat on the bench in silence. He watched Sinfi Moon from across the crackling fire. She was laughing and joking with Dorian and Varric, a bottle of something passed between the three friends. Wine, he guessed as he spied her reddened cheeks and glowing smile. She laughed more when she drank wine.
Bull couldn't hear what they were saying, but she was happy. She was smiling. She didn't look broken, but then he remembered the night after the dragon. Breath shallow, eyes unfocused, her frozen in a moment. Two simple words could undo years of patching up the cracks in the veneer she had crafted for the world. Two words could shatter a world she desperately tried to rebuild after losing it all.
"I still hate myself for it," Mordecai admitted quietly. Bull looked over towards him, a new cigarette was lit in between his fingers as he watched his sister, golden eyes filled with pain and regret. His mask had been tossed aside what felt like ages ago, this was the real Mordecai Moon. A man punished with guilt.
"I was the one who said she could do it. After all, she's our family's pride and joy, the legacy child. And I was supposed to protect her." Silence filled the space between them. Bull reached his hand out and placed it firmly on the teifling's shoulder to offer some semblance of comfort. Mordecai's voice cracked slightly as he continued, "I thought she would be safe."
"You didn't know," Bull said slowly as he released the broken man's shoulder.
"That's the problem though, I did know," he looked at Bull, smoke curling around his features, eyes hollow. "There were rumors and gossip, but none of it had been deemed as factual," the Moon twin blew out a ring of smoke. "There were just as many rumors about the abuse as there were about him being a lizardfolk wearing the skin of a human," he let out a humorless laugh.
"The moment I saw her broken and beaten in the jail cell after the trial," he shook his head slowly, as if trying to push away the memory. "I knew, in that moment, every rumor I had heard had actually been true all along," he paused for another drag before continuing. The red and orange embers at the tip of the rolled joint standing out against the shadows. "I should have known," he whispered, voice hoarse from smoke and his burden.
"She didn't tell us when it was happening," Mordecai let out a bitter laugh. "She had been afraid of being pulled from the mission before she could do some real change. Stubborn girl."
"At least she did do some good for the people," Bull said slowly, trying to make something good out of this. They both knew it was a lie though. Nothing was truly worth this.
"She did…She really did," the smaller man agreed. "But I'd give it all up just to go back and stop the mission before it even started."
They were silent. Mordecai offered Bull a drag and he took it as they stared into the flames. The smoke burned in Bull's lungs, but he needed to feel the hurt, he needed the burn, he needed to feel the pain to keep him here.
"What happened to the Emperor after she left for Kirkwall?" Bull asked, smoke rolling off his lips as he passed the cigarette back. The other man chuckled darkly as he took the last drag. Mordecai stood up and tossed the butt into the fire. It quickly blackened and curled unto itself before turning into ash.
"Exactly what she cursed him with," the red tiefling's features seemed to sharpen and elongate in the light of the flames, his demonic lineage even more prevalent at that moment. Bull knew it was a trick of the lights, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was intentional. "Emperor Robard had a stroke a month later. The court healer could not determine the cause of it. But the damage was done and it left him partially paralyzed, but still fit to rule."
"Rumors circulated that the Empress and the Emperor's right hand had been having an affair for decades. It spread like wildfire that the little princesses were actually not Robard's, and instead were the byproduct of the nightly rendezvous between the adulterous pair," he sighed slowly. "I guess, the rumors had weighed so heavily on the Emperor's mind that he ordered the court healer to do a paternity test. Sure enough, they weren't his."
"A year later, on Midsummer night, his castle caught fire. The Empress and children were staying with her father, but the Emperor had been inside the castle," the devilman smirked slowly, his face looked cruel and hateful. "Rumors say his skeleton was found chained to his bed. Iron slave shackles cuffed around his wrists, forcing him to stay in place and watch his empire burn around him."
Silence filled the void as they both stared into the fire.
"Poetic," Bull said slowly as he watched Mordecai. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you have no idea how that happened."
"Nope, no idea," he looked down at Bull with a wink. "All I know, is the man who orchestrated it must have looked great doing it."
"I bet," they shared a quick smile before the red tiefling turned to go.
"Mordecai, I never answered your question," Bull said quickly, the brother turned to look at the Qunari quizzically.
"My intention with her is simple," Bull said slowly, keeping eye contact. "Make her life a little easier."
Mordecai stood there silently, analyzing the ex-Ben-Hassrath for hints of deceit or a game being played. "Good," a smile slowly grew on his lips. "I hope she keeps you as a bed warmer then. If she doesn't, well, she's officially gone mad," with that, he disappeared into the night.
Bull shook his head slowly with a low laugh as he gazed back into the flames of the bonfire. Mordecai was somehow both everything and nothing like what Bull would have guessed a brother of Sinfi Moon would be. He was more chaotic and open than Sinfi. Both were deadly, but there was some sort of added edge with Mordecai's candor. Bull could see a conversation being ended with a 'sorry friend, this is the end of the line.' Then the next thing you knew, you're bleeding out on the ground.
Bull was also unsure where the tiefling stood on a moral compass, or if he even had one. On one hand, the assassination of a monarch may have not been the best thing to support or condone. Yet, Bull couldn't help but find himself agreeing with the actions that may have, hypothetically, been taken by Mordecai. Bull had slowly become more acclimated over the years to the grey areas of justice outside of the Qun, but deep down, he was still hardwired for that life.
Bull looked up from the flames as Mordecai appeared behind Sinfi, who was currently trying to teach Dorian the dance from earlier. The dance in question involved some movement that looked as if it popped her hip out of its socket to complete. Her brother whispered something into Sinfi's ear, causing her to look towards Bull, pink rising to her cheeks and neck as their eyes caught one another's. Mordecai gave Bull a silent bow before turning towards the parked caravans, vanishing into the winding paths.
Bull found himself getting up from his spot and making his way towards the group of misfits. They were more than just companions now, they were friends. As he walked towards the group, he watched Sinfi, who's eyes scanned his face and horns. Recognition crossed her features, but she said nothing, turning her focus away to Dorian.
"Well, Tiny," Varric slurred slightly as he offered the bottle that had been passed around before. "We were wondering when you'd make it over here."
"Didn't want to interrupt what looked like an intense training session," Bull joked with a half-smile. Golden eyes quickly glance towards him again, but the glassy eyes didn't see him, they were trained solely on his forehead and horns. The eyes darted away, knowing they had been caught.
"I'm going to get this, if it's the last thing I do!" Dorian exclaimed, lifting his fist in the air as Sinfi shifted his hips with her hands. Bull looked around, he could see the majority of the chargers and inner circle in different groupings. Yet, there was one person he couldn't pick out of the crowd.
"Where's Cullen?" Bull asked quickly. Sinfi looked over her shoulder at Bull with a smirk on her lips.
"The three succubi called my sisters have kidnapped the commander and taken him to their Vardo to do unspeakable things with him," she wagged her eyebrows at him with a laugh.
"No shit," Bull leaned back shaking his head.
"She's not lying," Varric laughed. "I watched them circle around him, then danced off with him like the stories of fairies stealing children."
"Oh, they're going to eat him alive," Sinfi chuckled. "On one hand, I'm worried for him. On the other, eh? He needs to live a little."
Bull laughed before taking a giant swig out of the bottle. Instantly, it burned and caused him to cough.
"Vashedan!" Bull cursed. "This is worse than Maraas-Lok. What the hell is it?"
"Baba's wine," the three said in unison. Bull looked at the nondescript bottle and then to Sinfi.
"How is she not dead yet?" Bull asked, not sure if it was a joke or a serious question.
"Honestly, we ask the same thing daily," Sinfi shrugged, causing the group to laugh.
She was drunk, he was drunk, they were both very drunk as they stumbled through the Vistani camp. Her hand was gripping his as she pulled him through the twisting pathways created by the caravans.
"It should be up here, I promise," she slurred slightly as she stumbled along the uneven ground.
"You said that five turns ago," Bull let out a laugh. He may have sounded jovial, but he couldn't help but wonder that if Sinfi looked back towards him, would she see The Iron Bull or the ghost that haunted her waking moments. If when she curled up next to him at night, was it him or blond hair and hazel eyes she imagined in her bed. He didn't want to care. He shouldn't care, but now that Bull knew the secret she kept close, he couldn't help but ask: were their nightly routines helping Sinfi or actually hurting her?
Bull's wrestling thoughts dissipated the moment he saw it. He knew they had reached their destination as a pink and gold wagon came into view. Scrolling work in every color decorated the exterior and he instantly knew this was her's. An infectious smile spread across her face as she picked up speed, forcing him to follow in her tracks. With quick fingers, she unhooked the latches locking the wagon and climbed into the darkness, leaving Bull out in the cool night air.
Her head popped out of the darkness, hair a mess and tumbling down her left shoulder, eyes glassy from alcohol and sleeplessness. Bull couldn't help but glance up to the sky, expecting to see the dawn start approaching. They were dancing upon the line of either late night or early morning.
"Are you coming into my Vardo or not?" Sinfi slowly drawled, her accent thickened with alcohol. It still held the bewitching tones, but it had become even more mysterious and captivating. Bull leaned up against the entrance of the wagon, his hand gripping the weathered wood. Their faces were close as wine tainted breath mingled with wine tainted breath. Well... that was if "Babba's Wine" was actually still classified as wine and not the hellfire it tasted like.
"Is that an invitation, Sinfi Moon of the Vistani?" he chuckled at the formality.
"Why wouldn't I invite you in, The Iron Bull of the Bull's Chargers?" she countered.
Because I'm the farthest from hazel eyes and pink carnations. The thought spun quickly through his mind, but he didn't answer and instead found himself crawling into the back of the wagon, wordlessly. He flopped on the floor, his back against the mattress that was recessed into the wooden floorboards, and looked up. Stars. He could see the stars. There was a curved wooden ceiling, but he swore he could see the sky clearly.
"It's an enchantment," Sinfi whispered quietly as she curled against him. "It mirrors what's outside without having to face the elements."
Bull instinctively wrapped his arm around her as he looked to the stars above. Without a word, Bull reached up to touch the vision. His hand passed through the starry night without issue. It felt cold as the tendrils of magic curled around his fingers, but he did not fear it. If anything, the ex-Qun adhering man looked at it with new eyes. Magic was terrifying, but it could be beautiful too.
"It helps me sleep at night," she said softly before pushing herself up and looking down at him, the magical moonlight casting a glow onto her body. Her clothing and hair were disheveled, her make up almost worn away, but to the Iron Bull, she was still breathtaking in the celestial glow.
Her fingers reached down and started tracing the patterns Baba had left on his forehead and horns. Bull reached up quickly, thinking that there was some residue leftover, but he only felt skin.
"Who gave you this?" she asked softly. There was no strong emotion in her tone; it was just pure curiosity.
"Babba found me earlier today on the battlements," Bull sighed. Their eyes met. Golden eyes burning with wonder and curiosity. "She was pretty adamant about drawing on my forehead with something that looked like congealed blood."
"Oh, she did, did she?" Sinfi's voice was cold but betrayed an assortment of emotions, hurt being the most prevalent. She shook her said slowly before looking to the stars above them, "It was horse blood the way."
"That's very reassuring about Vistani customs and magic," Bull deadpanned. "What did she do, exactly?"
She looked back down at him, eyes searching his as she debated on the information she was willing to sacrifice today.
"It's... " Sinfi voice failed. She looked back to the stars above, "It's nothing you have to worry about, The Iron Bull."
He wanted to ask more. He wanted to push, but the mixture of alcohol and the way Sinfi looked underneath the starlight caused words to fail him. Deep down, Bull knew pushing would just result in more silence and cause the protective wall around her to quickly reappear. Instead, Bull let instinct kick in and pulled her on top of him. Their lips met quickly and he kissed her softly as his hands tangled into her wavy locks. With every kiss and touch that night, it was a silent promise Bull made to her: she would never have to worry. In his care she was safe, but most of all, she was free from the chains. He kept her mind focused on the here and now, this moment in her Vardo, away from the world. There were no Emperors, no pink carnations, no Inquisition, and no Corypheus. Just this. Just them. Just the stars above.
The sun started to rise as Bull slowly started the well-rehearsed process of extracting himself from the sleeping woman of dawnstone, who clutched onto him like a child with their teddy bear. Her face was carefully tucked into the crux of his neck and shoulder, an arm thrown over his stomach, her tail snaked around his leg for good measure.
Before, he had thought it was cute and slightly entertaining how this cold and calculating spy turned into someone who snuggled up to someone like a house cat once the sun dipped below the horizon. Now, it was sobering. It wasn't the Iron Bull she snuggled into, it was the memory of Eric. The memory of what once was and what could have been.
Bull looked down at her as the words haunted his mind, What if… He shook his head and left the wagon silently. His eyes betrayed him and drifted over the sleeping Inquisitor once more. The light sheets were wrapped around her hips and thighs. He had already been replaced by an extra pillow that she gripped onto like a life raft. The only parts of Sinfi visible to him were the curve of her back where her calves and feet poked out from the covers. Bull eyed her left ankle, the band no longer encircled the joint but, if the dawn's light hit the area just so, Bull swore he could see the shadow of what once used to be.
He would continue to give her what she needed. Even if it meant The Iron Bull was just a placeholder for a ghost.
"What do you say, friend?" Mordecai asked, a sly smile on his face as he eyed Bull and Krem.
"You want to train against both of us," Krem motioned between him and Bull. "At the same time?" he didn't hide the absurdity he felt about the request.
"Yes. It should be an even match," Mordecai shrugged quickly. Bull eyed the Moon twin cautiously. He knew you couldn't judge just by looks when it came to a fight, but there was something odd about the lithe rogue wanting to take on a berserker and a warrior without any backup. Sinfi wouldn't even challenge them both at the same time and she had been training with both Bull and Krem for barely six months… it had only been a little more than six months since the world turned upside down.
"Fine," Bull said as he shook his head. He grabbed his greataxe and walked into the training arena.
"Chief, you're joking…" Krem said with slight disbelief. Bull gave him a half-hearted shrug.
"Should be interesting, Krem. Might as well try to knock the smug look off his face," Bull watched as Krem shook his head in astonishment about the uneven match as he picked up his shield and sword.
Krem made his way into the ring followed by a smiling Mordecai. Bull watched him closely. Unlike Sinfi, he had no overt weapons on him, whereas her daggers were always prominently attached to her thigh. No daggers, no rapier, no bow. The only thing on him was a guitar strapped to his back.
Krem and Bull stood on one end of the ring while Mordecai's smirk fell, his face becoming hard like stone. He held up a finger toward them to show he wasn't yet ready. He shifted the guitar into his hands and started tuning the strings with expert ease. Bull and Krem watched onward with confusion as Mordecai continued to tune the guitar until he was satisfied.
"Ready, whenever you are gentlemen," he stated with a smile on his face as he looked towards the pair. Bull and Krem glanced at each other quickly as realization dawned between them, their opponent had chosen a guitar for a weapon.
"So be it," Bull said slowly before charging towards Mordecai. A devilish smile crossed his lips as the Qunari crossed the arena towards him. Mordecai's fingers began to pluck the strings, creating a sorrowful tune as his song drifted on the breeze to Bull's ear.
"It's been said the world's a stage.
And everyone must play their part
And give them one hell of a show,"
The Iron Bull was no longer in a training ring in Skyhold. He was on the streets of Seheron. Smoke and screams filled the marketplace he knew way too well. Confused, Bull desperately looked around searching for something. This wasn't real, it couldn't be real. But the dead bodies of his unit littered the ground around him, rigor mortis already starting to set in along with the eventual decay. His boots standing in a river of blood, he could feel the warmth through the leather. Blood also coated his armor and axe. The salt air mixed with gunpowder and iron tickled his nostrils.
He blinked slowly, but what surprised him was he felt both eyelids moving. Cautiously, Bull reached up towards his left eye, there was no eye patch. Had it all been a dream? Had insanity taken ahold of him? Bull took stock of his surroundings. Tal-Vashoth circled him, their eyes shone through the drifting smoke. They were hungry and ready for the kill. A kill they wouldn't get. He refused to fall to them. He couldn't fall to them.
Bull let out a roar as he swung his axe towards the closest one. Quickly dodge, fake-out to the left, then going to the right. Eyes watched him, alight and ready for a fight. He attacked again and again and again until he was breathing heavily. The Tal-Vashoth constantly dodged him with expert precision, as if they knew every move in his book.
Bull became increasingly frustrated with every attack. But with every swing of the axe, Skyhold became a distant memory. The Inquisition didn't exist. Golden eyes were a secret dream of a world that never was and never could be. All there was, was Seheron and fighting for order. The Iron Bull no longer existed; he was Qunari, he was Hissrad.
He was on top of the Tal-Vashoth now, backed into a corner. Hissrad only had to take one strike and then it would be over...
Blackness filled his vision and he felt himself falling backward. His back hit the ground, causing the air in his lungs to vanish.
"Mordecai, why would you do that," a woman's voice whispered angrily.
"Sister will be furious if she finds out," a second added quickly after.
"You mean when, Esma, because Sinfi will find out and then skin Mordecai alive," a third corrected.
"I didn't think it would affect him that badly," Mordecai defended himself. "To be fair, she should have prepared him, of all people, for magical attacks like ours."
Slowly, Bull opened his eye, and the light blinded him. He squinted against the sunlight beating down upon him as three truths dawned on him. First, Bull was in Skyhold. He was not in Seheron any more, in fact, it had been years since he had left that godforsaken island. Second, he was laying on his back. What felt like electricity ran through his veins, rendering Bull paralyzed on the dusty ground. Finally, three matching pairs of eyes stared down at him with concern. Sapphire blue eyes against dawnstone skin, raven-like hair hung around their faces and curled ram horns sprouted from their skulls. These were the triplets, or succubi as Sinfi had nicknamed them.
"Oh, good," the first one said, blue eyes blinking in surprise. "You're not dead."
"Drina," the second one, Esma, hissed and glared at her sister.
"What? Catarina hit him with something, way too strong, to knock him out," the now identified Drina replied.
"Oh, did I?" Catarina glared at the first sister. "By all means, you try to subdue the raging Qunari next time and show me how it's done."
"What exactly happened," Bull groaned, the bickering stopped as the three sets of eyes looked down at The Iron Bull.
"You agreed to a challenge against Mordecai-," Drina explained.
"Who's voice and music are laced with magic-" Esma interrupted.
"The spell he used on you takes complete control and makes you fight your friends," Catarina finished. All three smiled quickly as they stared at him, eyes flicking back and forth between his eye and forehead.
"Is Krem-"
"I'm fine Chief," Krem called from the sidelines. Bull picked up his head and looked towards his second in command, lounging against the ring's barrier, a pack of ice covering his right eye where Bull must have got him. Mordecai was next to Krem, refusing to look Bull in the eyes as he played with his instrument. Bull tried to get up, but the moment he was slightly off the ground, the electricity inside of him zapped at the muscles, causing him to fall back to the dirt. White-hot pain shot through him and then quickly dissipated.
"You might want to just lay here for a bit," Esma's smile was soft and warm. "Let it leave your system naturally."
"He doesn't really have a choice," Drina deadpanned, causing Esma to glare at her.
"But, since you're trapped here," Catarina said slowly, her eyes blatantly staring at his horns and forehead. "Did Sinfi mark you as Giogoto?"
Bull opened his mouth to ask what that even meant, but was quickly interrupted by a honeyed voice he knew all too well.
"What is going on here?" Sinfi's voice was sharp. Bull looked up to see her standing with her arms crossed, glaring at the triplets. Waiting for an explanation of what she had found out in the courtyard. The triplets glanced at one another.
"Mordecai did it," they quickly said in unison. They stood at attention and pointed to the red tiefling. His motions stopped as he looked up and Sinfi's ire shifted to him.
"Mordecai challenged Bull and Krem to a fight," Drina said quickly.
"He made The Iron Bull hallucinate and charge after Krem," Catarina said slowly. "I had to knock him out before someone was killed."
"Did he, now," Sinfi said slowly as she advanced towards her brother. "Even though I made it clear that no one was to bend anyone to their will while in Thedas."
"My darling little sister-" the man started with a slow smile, but his voice betrayed him as it was filled with nerves. His voice died when he caught the flames flickering at her fingertips.
Krem looked over to Mordecai, "You might want to run mate." And he did. Mordecai ran as fast as his legs could take him, but Sinfi Moon was faster.
Harding and the scouts had sent word that the foothold in the Western Approach had been secured. Sinfi gathered Varric, Dorian, and Bull to start the long trek to the sandy deserts. Yet, when they met at the gates the next morning in the courtyard, Sinfi did not have the horses as she normally did. Instead, she stood there with a secretive smile.
"Ready to travel a little… differently?" she asked as she eyed the three men, who looked between each other with slight confusion and apprehensiveness.
"Pinky," Varric started slowly. "What, do you have hidden up your sleeve?"
"With my troupe close by, I have better access to all of my powers," Sinfi said, the smile seemed to widen on her face.
"You're talking about having access to the Mists, right?" Dorian asked, both excitement and a slight nervousness lingered in his eyes and voice.
"Yes," she was alight with excitement.
Bull watched as Sinfi turned and muttered a few words, her hands swirled in the air, and fog slowly rolled through the gates towards them. The grey Mists thickened and began to swirl around them, licking at their legs. Bull looked towards Sinfi, her focus was on whatever was in front of them. Yet one thing made Bull pause, her golden eyes had turned milky. Milky like that day in judgment. Milky like Baba's. Milky and grey like the Mists that curled around them. Bull realized this was The Mists the Vistani talked about with such reverence. This was her power, her birthright as the eldest daughter in her family's lineage.
"Come on," Sinfi said as she walked forwards, the Mists swallowing her form.
"Sparkler, is this… safe?" Varric asked slowly, his face filled with skepticism.
"I have absolutely no clue," Dorian whispered, eyes wide in amazement as he stepped forward into the unknown. His form, like Sinfi's, disappeared from view. Bull and Varric looked at each other.
"So," Bull said slowly. "Is this going into that book of yours?
"Tiny, if I added this to the manuscript, my publishers would instantly label it as fiction," Varric said as they walked into the Mists together.
Milky grey slowly shifted to black as darkness engulfed Bull. Everything he knew of the world was gone. He was weightless as he floated in this new half-world. There was nothing in the inky black void that he found himself suspended in. Years of cannon fire had left permanent ringing in his ears, but even that was now gone as haunting silence overtook the space. Time was nothing. Space was nothing. The Iron Bull was just a speck in the grand scheme of the universe.
Then, it hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of his lungs and then he was falling. Crashing through the darkness, faces and memories flashed around him, some he knew others were unknown to him. Images of 'what if's' and what might be flashed before him. He could see what could have been if he had said or chosen differently. Bull saw the images, but somehow couldn't comprehend any of the information. The wind rushed past him, making his eye water. Instinctively, Bull put his arms up to his face to try and protect him from the inevitable impact.
Then, it was over. His feet were on solid ground and the sun beat down on him.
"You can open your eyes now, Tiny," Varric said quietly. Cautiously, Bull lowered his arms and opened his eye. They were alive. They were standing in the desert in the Western Approach. Bull looked between the three companions and landed on Sinfi in the end. Her eyes had turned back to the golden orbs he had become so used to.
"What… was that," Bull asked slowly and cautiously as he tested his voice. He watched Sinfi's face as she studied him with a critical eye.
"Those were The Mists and the Threads of Fate," she responded simply, as if that was all the explanation he needed. "It will take time, but it will become less jarring."
Quickly, Sinfi turned and looked along the horizon. "From Harding's notes, the ritual tower should be this way. Hawke and Stroud are waiting, we'll need to hurry," Sinfi said quickly before starting to make her way down the sand dunes.
The march through the sand dunes was long and hot, but as they saw the dark spires rising from the shifting sands, the sweat dripping down their faces felt worth it.
Hawke and Stroud stood together, arms crossed as they watched the party get closer.
"You made it," Hawke said as he looked towards Sinfi, a corner of his lip curled up in a smirk. "And here I was beginning to think I'd been stood up, Inquisitor."
"You, being stood up?" Sinfi said with a slight laugh and a wink as she walked towards him. "Never."
"I'm glad you made it, Inquisitor," Stroud said much more formally, obviously unhappy to have to break up the more light-hearted banter. "I fear they have already started the ritual."
"It has to be blood magic," Hawke explained. Concern crossed his face, "I hope we can stop them before more people get hurt."
"I'll take point," Sinfi said as she eyed the bridge and stairs leading to their destination. "Bull and Stroud, behind me. Dorian and Varric, stay covered as we get closer. Don't shoot unless you have a clear shot." She looked to Hawke, "Stay here and make sure we're not ambushed."
"Can do," he nodded towards her.
With that, they made their way towards whatever awaited above them.
Demons, it had to be fucking demons and blood magic. Bull placed his foot on the corpse of the Grey Warden as he un-lodged his weapon from the sternum. The sound of bones snapping filled the air. Bull looked down at the corpse in front of him. The Warden was young, maybe nineteen years of age. Twenty at max. The Iron Bull couldn't help but feel a slight pang in his chest. Too young. Too young to die like this because of some crazy fucking vint. Too young to die for a cause that turned him into cannon fodder. Bull felt her hand rest on his forearm, her touch was fire and light as it burned away the spiral of darkness.
"We need to keep moving," Sinfi's voice was soft, as if she had read his mind. Or maybe she was thinking the same thing as she stared down at the dead boy.
"Okay, Boss," Bull nodded as he turned and followed her to the last battlement in need of clearing. They fought wave after wave of demons and spellbound Wardens. At one point, Bull lost count of how many people they had killed. No, not people; things. They were no longer people. He was no longer Bull, he was The Iron Bull, a tool forged for destruction and mayhem, a weapon for her to wield.
Livius Erimond had fled during the battle at the abandoned Tevinter tower, leaving the group disheartened with no trace of where the Venatori mage had disappeared to. Luckily for them, Stroud knew the area and of an abandoned Grey Warden fortress that Hawke and he had agreed to scout.
Sure enough, there was an army of Grey Wardens, willing to raise a demon army for what they thought to be the greater good. Luckily, the fortress had been built around the second Blight, meaning its defenses were not prepared for an attack with modern siege equipment. And with the new Vistani magic, it was easier to march an army through a portal then across a continent. The fight would be costly, but they had to get to the Warden-Commander before the demon army was fully raised. Some of the Wardens were able to listen to reason, others unfortunately were too far gone.
So, they fought their way through demons and Wardens who had become mindless slaves to the magister's will. The sound of trebuchets going off echoed around them. The walls shook with every impact they made. The sound of demons screeching in the night haunted them.
It just had to be fucking demons.
"We need to hurry!" Sinfi shouted as the party fought their way towards the main courtyard. Bull caught the eyes of Dorian, Varric, and Cole. The sound of fighting was far away, meaning they were close to their destination. Sinfi tried to open the door leading to the main courtyard. but it wouldn't budge
"Bull, this door is bolted," Sinfi said as she glanced towards Bull. "Do you think you can get it?" Golden eyes caught silver.
"Got it, Boss," he said before quickly, ramming his shoulder into the door. Wood splintered and cracked as he went through the material. His shoulder would hurt tomorrow, but it was worth the pain.
The party rushed through the opening as Warden-Commander Clarel sliced an older Warden's throat. Blood trickled down the man's front, staining his armor with the dark, viscous liquid. Life drained from his eyes as he crumpled forward with an unceremonious thud. They stopped in their tracks, Sinfi's eyes wide as she watched the scene in front of her.
"No," she said under her breath as her head shook slightly.
"Stop them!" Livius yelled out to the Wardens below him. "We must complete the ritual!"
The Grey Wardens looked amongst themselves. Either they were unsure about the command, or were slowly understanding the ramifications of their actions.
"Clarel," Sinfi's voice rang out as she stepped forward. "You don't have to do this."
"Yes," she looked towards the Inquisitor, sorrow filled her eyes. "I do. It's the only way."
"If you do this, you'll be doing exactly what he wants," Sinfi anger bubbled in her voice.
"What, fighting the Blight? Keeping the world safe from darkspawn?" Livius let out a laugh. "Who wouldn't want that?"
Clarel looked between the two, concern etched on her face, "I admit these methods are extreme, but we make the sacrifices no others will. We will die proudly for a world that will never thank us."
"And then your Tevinter ally will bind you all to Corypheus," Stroud took a step forward, dark eyes shooting daggers towards the Commander. She took a step back and shook her head, disbelief on her face.
"But…" Clarel started. "But he's dead."
"No," Sinfi said slowly. "He's not."
Livius scoffed, "These people will say anything to break your confidence."
Clarel closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "Bring it through," her voice was broken as she spat out the command. Quickly, the Warden mages broke open the boundary between Thedas and the Fade. Shrieks and screams reverberated out from the portal leading to the hellish world.
"I have seen my share of blood magic, it is never worth the cost," Hawke tried to argue, anger twisting on his face.
"I've trained half of you myself," Stroud said, a mixture of emotions muddled his cries. "But I will do whatever it takes to stop this madness!"
Sinfi caught Clarel's eyes before speaking, her voice was calm and exuded power, "The Grey Wardens have a proud history. You stopped the Blight at the Silent Plains. At Starkhaven, Hunterfell, Ayesleigh, and in Denerim. This world will never repay their debt to the Grey Wardens, but you continue to save it because they need you." She took a reassuring breath, "I understand sacrificing the few for the many. I would not stand against you unless I knew you were being used."
Clarel was silent as she watched the Inquisitor. Her gaze slowly shifted towards Livius Erimond. "Perhaps we could test the truth of these charges, to avoid more bloodshed," her voice was soft.
Livius Erimond's face twisted in a sneer, "Or perhaps I should bring in a more reliable ally."
With quick movements, Eirmond bashed the bottom of his staff to the ground. A roar in the distance shook the stronghold as the corrupted dragon flew down from the darkened sky.
They were running. Chasing after the fleeing Venatori Magister, Clarel on his heels. As the rest of the party turned the corner, they found the pair locked in a duel. Erimond desperately threw every fire spell in his arsenal at Clarel's shield as she stalked towards him. Anger radiated off of her in waves.
"You," She said, hurt and betrayal laced her words. "You have destroyed the Grey Wardens!" She twirled her staff and sent a bolt of energy to her opponent's chest, knocking him to the ground.
"Oh, Clarel," he let out a hollow laugh as he pushed himself to his hands and knees. "You did that all by yourself, you stupid bitch. All I did was dangle a little power before your eyes and you were eager to get your hands bloody."
Clarel let out a scream before releasing another volley of electricity at the man. He slid across the broken bridge from the force of impact. Clarel twirled her staff and pointed it towards the crumpled man, prepared to deal the killing blow, unaware of the Red Lyrium dragon circling in the background, ready to attack.
"Clarel, look out!" Stroud shouted. Clarel looked towards the incoming enemy, but it was too late as the maw gripped her. They watched as the dragon flew around with her body gripped tightly in its jaws as it eyed the Inquisitor and the rest of the group. They found themselves backing away from the beast, who quickly threw the broken and bloody Warden-Commander to the ground and stalked towards them.
Bull looked between the body of Clarel, the corrupted dragon, and the impending doom which was the ravine behind them. His eye caught Sinfi's, worry and anxiety-filled pools gazed back at him.
"Whatever happens," She whispered. "Thank you for being by my side." Gold melted to the pearly gaze. Angry green streaks flickered from her palm as the anchor became aware of the plan she had concocted.
"Do you trust me?" she asked the group. They looked between themselves and nodded slowly, as they continued to get closer to the edge. The dragon slowly stalked towards its prey, almost relishing at the moment.
"Whatever you do, don't look past the rift," with that, Sinfi's boot hit the edge of the bridge leading to the chasm. Fire shot from her hand, creating a wall between them and the dragon, who let out a loud screech in protest. Her other hand shot out two bolts of green energy aimed below them. Then, as if the world froze, Bull watched as the Inquisitor tipped backward into the chasm. Like his body was being controlled by someone else, Bull ran towards the edge to grab her before she fell. Their hands brushed against one another, but he didn't catch her. He didn't think, he just let his body go into autopilot. Bull was falling after her. They were falling, air rushed past them and they were falling. He heard their companions yell and scream as they made the plunge with them, putting all trust into their Inquisitor.
Bull looked past Sinfi, who had closed her eyes in concentration, sure enough, there were two rifts waiting to catch them and propel them into the unknown. Varric, Bull, Cole, and Sinfi fell into one while Dorian, Hawke, and Stroud fell into the other. The holes closed quickly as electricity lit up the night behind them and the dragon started to tumble after it's prize. Darkness consumed them.
They shot through the void at breakneck speeds. Images passed Bull's vision but this time it wasn't as starting or discombobulating as it once was. Before he knew it, they were laying on a grassy hill. Two moons sat in orbit about them, a sky filled with unknown constellations welcomed him.
Bull pushed himself up onto his forearms. Sinfi stood against the lights of a city below them. The scarf covering her horns flowed in the light breeze. Her back was to them as she stared out towards the world.
"Boss," Bull started, his voice dry and rough. "Where are we?"
As Bull got up and actually looked at the city, he didn't need to hear her answer. His eyes caught the white marble castle in the distance with golden spires. White walls encased a bustling marketplace. He walked to Sinfi's side, her lips were parted as shallow breaths left her. Golden, glassy eyes gazed at the city she knew too well.
"Welcome to Oarsport," her soft voice drifted on the night wind that smelled like sandalwood and jasmine flowers. "The capital of Ejasia."
Note: welcome to mother fucking Oarsport