Char: Iron Bull & Val'Aishlym, mentions Dorian & Val'Aishlym

Summary: Listening and Hearing aren't actually the same thing, is it?

Sprout: Enter The Bull

Augmented Agony

Iron Bull was making his way out of the main hall to head over to the tavern. Things had been quiet for a long time and the air around the entire hold was so thick and stifling, he doubted he could nick it with his great axe – and he just got finished sharpening the damn thing some 2 hours ago.

He was just getting ready to go down the stairs when a commotion from the other side of the grounds took his attention. He turned to see Dorian with an agitated looking Cole pacing back and forth in front of the mage. He furrowed his brow in both interest and confusion, deciding to see what was up over there before heading to the tavern. When he got there Cole had begun to speak.

"I asked you to help the hurt. To help because I could not help the hurt. I could not set him at ease….if you did not know or want to help the hurt, why did you accept?" Cole asked frantically.

"What's going on here?" Bull asked. Dorian glared at him.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, I assure you," Dorian grit out. Cole turned to Bull with a frown.

"I asked him to heal the hurt but he did not! He did not heal the hurt, he made the hurt hurt more!" Cole turned to Dorian. "Pain….so much pain…I like the color red….bright, dark, thick, not water. It brings comfort as much as it unnerves….so many memories with the color….Is this too deep? Is it too shallow? Confusing emotions…the pain helps the pain go away….the red washes the feeling away…." Iron Bull didn't like the implications of what Cole had just said. And if it was the feelings and thoughts of who he thought it was – the feeling those implications brought on struck Bull with such a nauseating feel, he felt sick pushing at his throat.

"Dorian, what the hell did you do?" Bull demanded. Dorian gave Bull an incredulous look. A look, so badly, Bull wanted to deck him in the face for.

"What I did? What I did? What I did?" Dorian shook his head, laughing. "What did I do he says!" Dorian laughed again, walking around both Cole and Bull. Bull glared at his back.

"What a dick…" Bull grumbled.

"I should not have asked him to help…" Cole was staring at Bull now. Bull raised an eyebrow, silently urging the spirit to go on. "Trapped….crossed between the duty I feel towards home and the duty of heart….shall I allow temptation to consume me? Shall I allow what I know isn't allowed to be allowed?" Cole looked down. "His thoughts and feelings are almost as muddled and confused as Val'Aishlym's." Cole looked back up at Bull. "Burning….Tears….He cries….the scent of spice….the scent of him….it burns….I want to forget….make me forget…." With that, the spirit disappeared.

"What a shit situation…." Bull sighed, running an exhausted hand down his face. "I'd signed myself to not deal with the emotional crap – and still ended up in it…." He sighed, forgoing the tavern to see what was up with the inquisitor.

…

..

.

What greeted Bull when he got to the Inquisitor's quarters was not something he was expecting. Granted, he was actually relieved that what he was expecting wasn't actually happening, the fact remained he was still surprised when he made it to the elf's room. Said elf was on the floor, his back towards Bull, tinkering with something. He had tools, papers, and books spread out in front him – knives of different sizes, screw drivers, pieces of cloth, needles, thread, buttons, pieces of scrap metal and wood, and a hammer. What should he say? How should he say it? Should he ask the elf if he was okay? How should he startup a conversation? He was silently glad he didn't have to do anything for the elf did it for him:

"It feels like you're shouting at me," the elf looked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "You are staring."

"Sorry…" Bull grumbled. He took a seat on the couch. "Whatcha up to over there, boss?" The elf bit his lip and turned back around.

"….Stuff…" he said quietly. Solas's voice suddenly pierced the Bull's mind, urging him to ask questions. How would he know which questions he should ask? What if he just put the elf in a gloomier mood?

"So…." Bull started lamely, cursing himself inwardly.

"Do you think he will like this?" his voice sounded so small and unsure, Bull didn't think he'd ever heard him sound like that. The elf had stood up and turned. He held his arms out and bull looked at the small, fist sized, figurine in his outstretched palms. Bull was speechless. The figurine was beautifully crafted – it was a peacock from the looks of it. The body was carved beautifully out of what looked like copper – but on closer inspection, it was out of ironbark. The tail of the peacock was splayed to show all of its vivid blues, greens, and yellows. He saw that the each individual stalk of feather had been a piece of metal to hold it in place with the cloth being weaved into tiny holes of the stalk. "I…thought….he might like it…his…did you know his family name means peacock? I was reading about it….a-and…I didn't know what a peacock was so I found all these books on creatures and…He gave me a nug-" at this he looked at the bed, making Bull follow his gaze. On the pillows of the bed sat the pink plush he was referring to.

"I don't know anyone who…could really craft such things," Bull returned his gaze to the elf who was looking down. "I…remember watching my brother make wooden figurines of the animals of the forest…I tried to copy – somewhat…" there was so much pain behind his crimson orbs, it hurt to look at. Bull was unsure how the tevinter mage would take it. He wanted to reassure the elf but knew he couldn't.

"I think it's perfect." Bull decided. He was rewarded with a small smile. The elf's smile was gone just as sudden as it appeared.

"You're nice…" the elf suddenly said, causing Bull's eyebrow to rise. "I like being around you...I have…the strong desire to kill everything around me….but being around you slightly suppresses that." Bull blinked at the admission. Definitely on his list of things he wasn't expecting the elf to say.

"Oh really?"

"I said…to you…I do not like arcane warriors…." Val'Aishlym whispered. He walked closer to Bull and sat the figurine gently on the couch. What he did next surprised the Bull even more than his words. The elf had straddled his lap and laid against his chest. "I do not….dislike them…because I fear them."

"But didn't you say you saw them in the Fade?"

"They were there because they used fire….I….do fear Fire…" Val'Aishlym looked up slightly at Bull before burrowing his face in his neck. "Did I ever tell you…that….I used to be a mage?"

"No."

"You don't sound surprised." It was a statement not a question. As was his next spoken word. "Solas."

"Yeah…" Bull hesitated before asking "Were you a fire mage?"

"No. I practiced Storm and Spirit," he was whispering now.

"Like your mother?"

"Yes." He pulled away from Bull to look at him. They stared at each other before the elf spoke again. "I have a twin. His name is Da'Saeya. Little Saeya. Our father's name is Saeya, our mother Va'Lym."

"Was he a mage too?"

"Yes." Val'Aishlym laid his head down. "We had 7 mages in our clan – it was too much, too many….the keeper said that we weren't safe with so many." He sighed. "My mother was a First. She was safe….She was worried, both her children were mages. She would have to give up one or both. She didn't want to. She made us promise not to use our magic. We agreed." Val'Aishlym mumbled something before he spoke up. "He was 7 when his magic awakened. Mine came when I was 9…

"Our mother trained with us. I liked Storm magic….Hers was so bright…pretty…sparkly….like Dorian's." Was that why he was attracted to Dorian? Dorian had shared the same style of magic his mother had. "My brother liked her Spirit magic. It was green…so bright…it was warm too…almost like fire but safer. We trained so hard…We concealed it for so long…no one even knew…" Bull felt Val'Aishlym sigh. "They caught wind…The shemlens…They always find a way to ruin something good…I hate them…but I forgive them….my mother always said it wasn't their fault they were ignorant, they just didn't know how to handle reality – the truth of their actions, their lies, their deceit…she says they drown in their own greed and self-loathing, but instead of taking it out on themselves, they find someone else to blame – to make the pain lessen…so they can forget…."

"The shems were templars…Well trained, I guess. We fought back – we fought….she fought…she didn't want anyone to take us…we were her life – her legacy…." Val'Aishlym's breath caught. "Did you know my nickname was Lymal? My cousin called me it once in front of her. She always called me Lymal. It was nice. She liked the nickname…I liked that nickname." Bull was slightly confused at the sudden topic switch but took it all in stride. It must be painful for the elf to remember all this.

"I had forgotten…." The elf whispered. "I had forgotten her….her smile…her laugh…her smell….her warmth…." He sounded choked. "I forgot everything…everything about her…was gone…blank….when I touched the Fade the first time, it came back….it hurt…to…it hurt to look on and not realize what it was I was looking at….to forget….so much…I stared and stared and stared…but the image…the woman…I didn't know who she was…I didn't realize I was looking at my mother….slowly it came back…it came back…it hurt to come back…it hurt…it felt as if I were being ripped apart." He took a sharp intake of breath. "I thought I was dying…I felt….It hurt…so much…cold dread…dark and panicky…it hurt…" Bull wrapped his arms around the elf silently. He tensed at first before relaxing.

"My brother likes to throw knives…" he switched topics again. "He was really good – better than me. My father trained him. He liked to…he liked close combat more than ranged…He was an arcane warrior….the Second. My cousin…she knew… she knew what we were but said nothing. She trained my brother. She was an arcane warrior too. She liked Blizzard magic. It was too cold for my brother, so she didn't bother teaching him. He didn't like the cold….he liked the warmth that was spirit magic. He liked mother's magic. I liked mother's magic….her magic was like her smile…her presence….warm and inviting…safe…"

"We were in the forest. The forest….deep…a little ways from the camp….far away no one could feel but close enough to be safe. Father was there…he…he…I liked father….he smiled a lot….he was proud of us…he always said so. He always said he loved us and that he was proud of us…so proud…" he trailed off lightly. "…proud…so very proud…his boys…" he trailed off again before continuing.

"We practiced barriers again. She said it was really useful…very important….We practiced hard that day. We were a bit exhausted at the end. Mother was proud….her smile wide…her eyes shining….she was happy, content, proud, joyful….then it happened…the shems…they came…they took….they took everything away….they yelled and shouted….angry and hurtful things spouted….there was so much….fire….I…don't know where it came from….it was everywhere….my mother…

"I heard screams a-and I smelt….my father picked us up and ran…my brother was crying…he was screaming…he was hurt….my father slid to a stop, put us down, he had his weapon out…he was shouting…angry…there were tears in his eyes….where is mother? Why wasn't she with us? Why couldn't I see her? Why couldn't I smell her….sense her…where is she? Father, where is she?"

Bull looked down to see the elf's eyes had glazed over. He was there but not there – probably reliving the hell of that day.

"He is yelling at the shems…he is angry…tears…my brother is scared…he is clutching my arm…it hurt when he touches my arm…" he was silent for a while. "Did you know the Dalish abandon young mages when they have too many mages within the clan? What if I had continued to pursue magic, would I be cast out because I wasn't good enough? Would I have to watch my brother be cast out because I was good but he wasn't?" Bull ached for the elf. There was so much pain in his voice, in his past. It hurt him so much, it didn't even seem he could concentrate on what he was saying. His memories flowed from mind to lips in such disorder, it was hard for Bull to keep up. They fell into silence.

"I like talking to you Bull…" the elf whispered. "Your thoughts are loud but your lips sealed…you ask though…I like when you ask…I feel when you listen you are actually hearing me…" the elf pulled away from him. The two stared at each other. Bull hadn't really noticed their close proximity until the elf's nose touched his. The two stayed like that for a while before the elf spoke up again. "I like you Bull…I like you because you're not human."

"Well, isn't that just grand." The dry drawl caused Bull to freeze and slightly jerk his head. Both Val'Aishlym and Bull turned to see Dorian standing there with an irritated frown. "If I knew I would have walked in on this, I wouldn't have took you up on the invitation to come. I came for an explanation and I guess I got it." Well shit…that wasn't good, was it? The elf didn't seem the slightest put off – then again could he even express that? He gracefully slid from Bull's lap and picked up the peacock. He held it out to Dorian and the mage angrily looked down at it. He smacked the figurine out of the elf's hand, causing it to drop and break. Bull abruptly stood. "If you hate humans so much, why have you been leading me on? Was it so you can test out what it'd be like to sleep with a shem?"the mage spit out with such distaste, causing Bull to frown.

"Dorian," Bull warned in a low growl. The mage was paying him no mind.

"You'd always comment on how fascinating the differences between the elven and human body were. I didn't really think much of it until you spoke about Qunari's with the same fascination. I can't believe I loved you – that some of the readings I found on the Dalish were actually true." He laughed humorlessly. The elf still hadn't looked up from staring at the broken figurine. "Disgusting, lustful creature. That's what the books said. I doubted the authenticity of the book – now I'm being to doubt my own doubts!"

"Dorian!" Bull snapped. "That's enough!"

"And you!" The mage was glaring hatefully at him. "You!" there was so much hate burning behind his eyes. Bull frowned. The mage couldn't get anything else out. He turned back to the elf but Bull figured his next words were aimed at both of them. "The lot of your races are a plague brought upon this word."

"You take…" the elf spoke up. His voice was thick and choked. He looked up. There were tears in his eyes – something Bull had never seen before. "You take," he growled. He began to jab a finger into Dorian's chest to punctuate every 'you take'. "You take and you take and you take!" The elf was shouting now. "You take but give nothing back. You yell and you scream – you're angry and you're hating. You hate and take and scream and yell at everyone but yourself!" he hissed. "You blame and you blame but putting the blame on others will not change the fact it is your fault!" The elf was glaring up Dorian who glared back. "You say my People are a plague but it is your people that always plunges the word into darkness! Your greed and your hate and your deceit – it is your faults that cause your suffering but you blame and take and yell and scream at others…." The elf backed away. "I hate humans."

"I think you've made that quite clear." Dorian narrowed his eyes. "But do you not understand how hypocrital those statements you've just so proclaimed. They are the same to which your elven kind have done – continue to do." The punch came to a surprise to both Dorian and Bull. Bull made quick work of grabbing the elf up before he could land another hit.

"We do not take that which does not belong to us!" the elf was screaming now. "We take from the shems that was taken from us! You shems are what is wrong with this world!"

"I think you should leave," Bull grunted. He was having a hard time keeping the flailing elf in check. If he let the elf slip, he was pretty sure the elf was going to kill Dorian. Bull didn't even look as he heard quick footfalls on the steps then the door opening and slamming shut.

"Vivienne said that love is warm and safe and fuzzy…" The elf had went slack in his grasp. "That it was a dizzying sensation…that you'll feel hot….you'll feel like you're on fire…." The elf was shaking. "…he was warming and inviting…he felt like home…like mother…I lost everything…they took everything…" his breath was catching, his voice choked. Bull sat the elf down on his feet and turned him around. A sob was released from him. "They destroy everything they see…they take and take and take but never give back….Solas said that love is hard and hurts sometimes. He said that if the love is strong enough, it will survive any trial…he said…he-he said that it was give and take…He-he…said I would be okay…he-he…I thought that was what we had?" He was asking, looking up at Bull. "He took and I took…he gave and I gave…he was warm and safe…I thought it was enough….I…" He interrupted himself with another sob. "I don't like this feeling…it hurts…" Bull pulled the elf into him and sighed. The elf clutched at him, quiet sobs racking his body. "I don't understand…I hate humans…all of them…but I don't hate him…"