Iron Bull caught Dorian's gaze for a moment before he began to speak. "Don't think I forgot what we were originally talking about."
"Venhedis, fine let us negotiate who joins in our bed games out here in the open. Hmmm?" Dorian's brow creased as he took another sip of the rather strong, black tea. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught an elfy eyebrow twitch behind the book held in front of his Elvhen companions face. The fact that Solas was not as oblivious as he thought made Dorian's mouth pucker as if he had sampled a sour fruit from his homeland.
"Good! So about Vivienne I was thinking..." Bull began eagerly.
"No" Dorian interrupted, setting his nearly empty tea cup on the long table.
"What's wrong with Vivienne? A fine mature women like her likely has quite a repertoire. Besides, she has great tits and that deliciously plump ass!" Bull stretched, and tilted his chair back onto two wooden legs. He crossed his legs at the ankle in one smooth motion and put his feet up on the table for balance. His face was carefully set in a neutral expression, clearly fortifying himself for what promised to be a long conversation.
"That she may, but this thing you have going on with her this ... Tamassran like relationship, I think I think you called it? Quite frankly it's a bit of a turn off, do not get me wrong. Seeing you subservient for a change would be appealing just not with her, it's too… familial. Besides, I do not want anyone who has the potential to be better dressed than my-beautiful-self catching your eye, in or out of the loft. Not that I am admitting she is better dressed, mind you." He looked at Bull from out of the corner of his eye, eyelashes sweeping his defined cheek. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"How about Flissa? I hear she has been serving the boys of the Inquisition in a very different way..." The Qunari said, not intimidated in the least by his lover's quick dismissal of his original nomination. Bull's lips pulled into a tight grin, waiting for Dorian to respond.
"And that Amatus is exactly why she is not going to ever ride the Bull. Do you understand me?" The Tevinter's eyes became flinty and his waxed, manicured mustache all but bristled, each hair standing up with his distaste.
"But red heads Dorian. RED heads!" Bull pleaded both hands in the air as if to grip some ephemeral dream of beauty.
"No, you promised me that I had veto power in so far as to who joins us. No back talk, must I remind you? Besides there is another red head that is much more alluring in these frigid stone walls. Our lovely spymaster is quite enchanting and I am sure that she would perform with passion and gusto."
Bull's mouth fell open and he sat up, righting the seat he was in. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself. His eye flickered back and forth over the entire hall looking everywhere but at Dorian. "Umm well you see... ummm..." The large Qunari seemed to shrink in on himself as he leaned forwards closing the distance between them. From inches away, he finally lifted his eye to Dorian's calm brown gaze.
"She... umm, she scares me." He all but whispered, mouth too suddenly dry to make the words any louder.
At first Dorian was filled with mirth that the three hundred pound Qunari male was afraid of the diminutive spymaster. Leliana could not weigh one hundred and fifty pounds in her full armor. Though she was a talented Bard in the Orlesian sense. He had seen one of her rare sparing matches with the Inquisitor. However she wasn't nearly as scary as the demons they all had faced down many times before. She was a sincerely impressive rogue to say the least. But that was not what shook his partner to the core. Her real power and strength came from secrets, information and the ruthlessness needed to use them. Her lengthy shadow could be felt as far away as Minrathous. Thinking of that aspect of her sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine.
He nodded to Bull in understanding, neither wanted to speak her name lest their idle chatter somehow got back to her. They both fell silent, under the corner of the table Iron Bull's large hand sought Dorian's. Once their hands meet and clasped they both sat straighter, gaining strength and an encompassing feeling of love through that small contact. Knowing the other was there for them no matter what may come, it was a comfort that warmed the lovers' hearts.
They held each other's hand secretly under the table for a few moments longer before they slowly let go. The hall was silent except for the quiet sounds of a quill on paper and once in a while the fluttery sound of a page being turned from the apostate next to them. From outside courtyard they could faintly hear sounds of the Seeker berating an apprentice. Past that the sounds of Skyhold were whipped away by the ever present icy winds.
Trying to shake the fear from his partner's mind Dorian took up the teasing tone of the conversation before 'she who will not be named' was regrettably brought up.
"Since you have this fixation on red heads Bull, how would you feel about Dagna as a candidate? Surely all that time in the Calenhad lake tower studying has bottled up some rather manic passions? Think of what could just be waiting below that peach and cream colored skin. Simmering behind those incredible blue eyes…"
"No not my Daffodil! My Cute Flower who blooms in the ever present snows, calling to your eyes with her purity and joy. Never!" Iron Bull's eye twinkled with mischief and a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth thinking he had bested the Tevinter poet beside him.
"Now Bull, that almost sounded like lyrical verses! Are you quiet certain of this? She is the last redhead in Skyhold after all." Dorian's masterful baiting brought a slight blush to the mercenary's cheek. Seeing that blush, he simply could not resist the urge to cause another to grace his scar riddled face. "Are you the defender of her flowery maiden head by chance? Protecting her from despoilment by the greedy hands of an unknown male?"
Dorian's overly poetic speech had the desired result as a bright red flush crept up Iron Bull's neck to settle on the Qunari's features. Dorian certainly hadn't expected that potent of a reaction from such an unabashed, unrepentant flirt. He puzzled over the powerful emotional display. Thinking about it, he had to admit The Iron Bull had been unusually off kilter all morning.
An entirely different spontaneous thought popped into his head as it tickled his memory. This completely interrupted his ponderings about his lover's odd reactions.
"Do not tell me you bought her that frilly-cake monstrosity of a gown you were admiring in Val Royeaux? The one you proclaimed a fountain of all innocence." Dorian made a fake gagging noise as he watched Bull's face steadily becoming redder by the second as he spoke, even the base of his horns took on a pinkish hew.
"Vishante Kaffas! You did! I can see it all over your face!" Dorian threw back his head as he laughed.
The tough, gruff, jaded mercenary buried his face into his hands. His large, battle roughened hands made it difficult to hear him clearly as he mumbled. "Vashedan, but my Daffodil looks so pretty in it!"
Dorian stopped laughing. He pondered this implication, absentmindedly smoothing his mustache. With how oddly reactive Bull had been this morning he decided to be magnanimous and tone down his teasing.
The Altus turned in his chair before he asked more of his partner. "Bull, what is she to you? I mean if you..."Dorian trailed off as he watched Bull pulled his hands away from his face revealing a haunted expression on his beloved's face.
The Iron Bull gradually sat up his back straight, with determination. He placed his hands flat onto the table, finger spread wide across the grainy wood as if to anchor himself to the table. He took a long, noisy breath through his broad nose and back out his parted mouth before answering.
"Dorian I have told you how in the Qun we don't have families or anything?" Dorian nodded, his dark eyes inquisitively locking with Bull's remaining metallic hued one. Bull took this as understanding and continued.
"I do remember you mentioning it before."
"Well, you know kids have always been a soft spot for me and I had never meet a young, female dwarf before Dagna. I'd seen Harding at a distance on the Storm Coast but that doesn't really count as meeting someone right? Of course I had met the Inquisitor but with that lush figure of hers there was no doubt at her age, those tits alone could kill a man." Bull made a small, sweeping gesture with his fingers in the air between them, as if to trace her bountiful curves in all their glory. "I've met plenty of male Dwarves but there is no mistaking one of those hairy bastards for a kid."
Turning sheepish, Bull looked away momentarily from the mage so close to him. "Yeah… so I have always had this strange desire…
"What do you mean by 'strange desire'?" Dorian could not hold back the interruption as he grimaced, his mind drifting far from pleasant thoughts.
"Not like that!" Bull huffed, bristling at the implication, his bare shoulder muscles tensing from the indignation. "It's nothing to do with THAT. Never. Ever to do with that."
Dorian bid him to continue with a tilt of his head. "I don't know where it came from but one day I had this need to hold a baby. Strange right? So I knew this Tamasran; she and I would do a whole lot more talking then fucking during our sessions. She was one of the good ones. She had just been assigned a new baby girl to care for so ya know, I asked her. She said no at first but then I was about to be shipped out to a new location and she shows up at our meeting spot with this little, pink, squirming bundle. She carefully handed it to me. As I held that tiny mewing thing, something in me felt complete. She was so light in my hands, but filled that empty spot in side me." A soft smile fell over Bull's lips, the memory of the cute, warm babe in his arms, but his joyful expression was quickly buried under a scowl of distant rage.
"I boarded the dreadnaught that night. You have heard me talk about the poisoned bread right? Well that place inside me that had felt so good, felt worse than ever after those bastards poisoned the bread that those kids ate. I killed every one of those dathrasi tal vashoth, I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to." Bull shook his head as to rid himself of the memory "Next time I went back home I saw that infant again, she was..I think around three? Seeing her smile made me stronger. Better than anything the re-educators ever did. So, I went back to where I was needed most. Back to fighting and killing. When I returned the last time I was shaken but not nearly as much as when I was told the kid had died of some twice blighted fever. A stupid thing that all kids get. My Tamasran friend tried to comfort me but nothing she said helped. That day I turned myself into the re-educators and The Iron Bull was born."
He trailed off for a moment. His eyes closed shut, taking deep, calming breaths. "When I walked into the forge and saw Dagna I thought she was a kid. Just some lost kid. She smiled at me with those big blue eyes and told me her name. I fell for her cuteness and she played along; I lead her all over Skyhold looking for her family. I held her tiny hand in mine and I felt good. Like I did before. It wasn't until the Inquisitor came up asking Arcanist Dagna if some of her armor was finished, that I knew." Iron Bull groaned in embarrassment.
"Before she returned to the undercroft Dagna told me she liked how I treated her. Like she was precious, special. Her father never treated her like that; he thought she was a trouble maker and a misfit for wanting to learn about magic. She left behind everything she ever knew to come to the surface. She had no-one. Then she joined the circle to study, where no one thought she was worth anything. She told me she wished she'd had a dad like me growing up. It was so easy to talk to her about these things. I told her about the Qun and families as I walked her back to her workshop. The next time we spoke she just ran up, hugged me and asked if she could call me papa. Said she put a lot of thought into it, who was I to say no?"
"I do not know what to say Bull" Dorian murmured eyes glistening with un-shed tears.
"Just say she is off the list and I will crush anyone who hurts her into a large bloody puddle." Bull grinned at his own words. "Also she looks fucking adorable in that yellow dress, Kadan."
"Okay, I can agree to that." Dorian tapped his long, nimble fingers on one of the bright well-polished buckles adorning his outfit. His mind returning to the observation from before. "I don't mean to pry Bull, but are you feeling okay? I mean you have just been...off today."
"I hoped you wouldn't notice. I couldn't get Krem out of bed early enough to beat the nervousness out of me this morning… Hey what about Krem? He is a 'real' man. A man but that has a woman's body and that body has certain needs, right? I mean everyone has needs." Iron Bull mused, sounding nearly jovial as he relaxed and leaned back into his chair as if the soul baring conversation moments ago never happened. His carefree mask slipping into place with practiced ease.
Dorian shook his head at his lover's words and smiled faintly. "Now, I understand how the Qun only have Tamassrans, to as you so crudely put it Pop your cork. Man or woman, is what I understand from our little chats about your homeland? Correct? That likely works out well for the most of the... what do you call them again... ah yes, Aqun-Athlok. Now I am sure that the Aqun-Athlok like Krem happily visit the Tamassrans, who are as I understand it all female, am I right?" Dorian paused a second and waited for Bull to nod, as he knew the burly Qunari would.
The resident Qunari mercenary captain shook his head side to side in embarrassment, his large horns emphasizing the motion. "Oh ya...You got me there."
The mage winked at his lover. "Now maybe you can answer a question that just came to me? What do the Aqun-Athlok that are 'real' women to do for a bit of fun?"
Bull opened his mouth to say something then closed it once more. His sweeping brow furled in thought before he opened both his hands palms up and shrugged in defeat. "Hadn't really thought about it."
Dorian laughed, his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Besides all that, my dear Bull, I do believe you have not been paying enough attention to your First. This is grand! Right under your mighty Ben-Hassrath nose. I just cannot believe you missed it!" Dorian's laugh had dissolved into what could only be described as a masculine giggle fit by any of those who could overhear.
Iron Bull groaned as he rolled his lone eye. He folded his arms over his broad, harnessed chest before declaring loudly "What is it you think I missed?"
"Certainly you would not miss that your First lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi is be-smitten with that rag doll of an archer living upstairs in Herald's Rest, would you? Hmm that might just make it easier for drunken trysts, as well. Though I do hope he insists that Sera has at least a bath first." Dorian snark-ed in his own good humored way.
The Iron Bull's mouth fell agape slightly and his eye widened as his brain connected little details in his memory. "So that night when Krem had an entire drunken regiment of Chargers singing that Sera Never Was song, was what? Him, serenading her?"
Dorian puckered his lips, the corners rising despite his best effort. "Well, he did write it for her after all! Maryden actually begged Krem to teach it to her, rowdy songs like that cause a mighty thirst. Then Cabbot sells more swill which makes more money, so her share of the silvers at the end of the night is bigger. I am sure, despite the subject, it will become a hit in every bar across Thedas in no time. Though I think you were escorting the Inquisitor out to some blighted corner of wilderness that even the Maker never touched, the night in question." He paused, thoughtfully cupping an elbow and tapping his chin before he continued.
"I do not know for certain that they have consummated their infatuation yet. Which I am sure Sera would announce to all of Skyhold once it happens or maybe just to those that frequent the Tavern. Strangest thing, she actually came to me to talk about Krem yesterday after we returned. She thought since he and I both refuse the preferred roles society places on us that I might be able to tell her about what she might be get herself into... if she said yes. She emphasized 'if' quite a bit, perhaps too much?" A wide grin decorated the cinnamon tinted mage's vestige. His very white teeth made all the brighter against his warm skin and dark facial hair.
"Ahhug," Bull suddenly scrambled to pull off his eye patch, and then held it gingerly by the strap between two rough gray fingers. "I thought she was going to use it in archery practice. If I had known she intended too...uhhh... I should have asked her why she wanted to borrow it!"
Dorian cocked his head sideways in a questioning manner. His eyes darted from Bull's face to the smooth metal inside of the eye patch that slowly swung in the air and then back to his partner's face, which was carefully left blank.
Iron Bull sighed and set it down on the table, his shoulders slumping. "It was my favorite one too!"
"And there is a rational reason for you to doubt her... use of it? Pertaining to our conversation perhaps?" Dorian laced his fingers together in a steeple that continued down to where his elbows rested on the wooden table.
Bull pulled out the soft fabric eye patch that had served as his emergency replacement many times before and donned it with a grimace. He then looked at the decorative metal eye patch on the table with palatable distaste. "I am going to have to wash that, twice." he began, one large gray hand rose to rub is neck for a moment before continuing "A few years ago I overheard Krem telling his sexual partner for that campaign, that he had a thing for me, well not exactly as much me … as the eye patch." He nodded to himself. "Krem wouldn't open his door this morning, telling me to just go away. So I thought hey he drank his fair share last night, sleep it off. I left. Then just before I came back to get you for breakfast, Sera found me on the way to our loft and returned it with one dragon-sized smile."
"Ah I see where you are going with this, and I'd rather not." Dorian quipped, his smile a devious one. "So how do you fancy either Dalish or Skinner, two mages are always more exciting than one!"
"Nah you don't sleep around in the company, kinda like you don't piss in the tankard you drink from. I expect the Chargers to abide by it so I have to lead by example." Bull said as he tucked away his desecrated metal eye-patch into a pouch at his waist.
"I think you mean you don't piss in the pond you drink from, but back to topic. You were willing to invite Krem?" Dorian asked as he raised his eyebrow in inquiry.
"Why would I want to drink water when there is good ale to be had? Well… Krem is different. The Chargers all know I lost my eye saving his sorry ass; he didn't even buy me dinner first!" his smile was at first full of merriment then it began to falter before returning to his mask of neutrality. "Look, when you lose an eye for someone it changes your relationship, and the boys respect that." Bull shrugged deeply, before reaching forward for a second serving of biscuits.
Dorian copied him without realizing it until the fluffy pastry-like biscuit was on a small plate in front of him. He glared at the tantalizing temptation before he began to methodically and deliberately to tear it into pieces. He had found, long before today that just pieces were far less appetizing than the mouthwatering temptation of a whole biscuit. Besides, the destroyed or half eaten leftovers were sent to the pig boy to feed the sows that fed the castle. So in this way he justified the wanton destruction of at least one biscuit nearly every morning. His deliberate wastefulness would be a boon to those ill-fated creatures.
Bull watched this ritual sacrifice take place next to him with a small bemused smile on his face. "Well, that leaves only two real possibilities; Scout Harding and Cassandra."
Dorian looked up from the small mound of soon-to-be swine feed, and paused to think about it. His creased brow and closed eyes displayed the depth at which he considered the options, Bull was pleased to note his honest consideration.
"Harding has been hanging out, right outside the tavern window, where she has this perfect view of my chest. Sometimes I even flex them individually to see if I can shock her. But that woman is unshakable, think she would like the manacles I swiped from the Val Royeaux prison when we went to 'get' … Blac... Tom Black out?"
"I honestly do not know. I suppose she would be acceptable in that girl-on-the-farm way. She does have a very wicked sense of humor when she and the Inquisitor get to talking. I believe her first name is Lace, am I correct Bull?" The Tevinter asked but continued on without waiting for a reply. "I even think she might clean up quite well. That long auburn hair would look marvelous against some of that periwinkle lace; I have a whole bolt of it after all. I got it off that caravan merchant that came through last week, it was dreadfully expensive but I had to have it! Ferelden's are so drab in their color choices and fashion in Orlais is currently all about heavy stiff fabric, dreadfully constrictive."
"So is that a yes on her then?" Iron Bull asked a twinkle of excitement in his eye.
Dorian felt the Fade pull slightly before he heard the gentle whoosh of air that heralded Cole's appearance in the great hall. He manifested in the seat directly opposite of Dorian, hands bracing him forwards on the table. They had finally gotten him to stop appearing standing on top of tables and desks, finding someone suddenly seated with you was much easier on everyone's nerves. In the end, it only took an extremely frazzled Josephine and a spilled bottle of gold print ink to finally convince him to desist the habit.
"No! No, her love doesn't feel like yours. Not silk and ropes and pleasured pain that glows for hours." The spirit rushed through his words breathing heavily, the mimicked sensuality causing both Iron Bull and Dorian to stare.
Solas did not even twitch, either he was a much more skilled actor then Dorian thought or he really had not been listening in on their not so discrete conversation.
"Take a breath squirrely. What are you talking about?" Bull asked to the all but buzzing youth who joined the table.
"No, you cannot have her; make her your lover, your doll, your third. She watches through the glass hoping, wanting, wishing. She doesn't watch The Iron Bull she watches above you. He makes her smile. He watches when they scout, the shine of her hair in the sun the sound of her laughter. He wants her too, but is afraid, shy, scared. He is scared by her, for her? And she is too? He wants to tell her how brave she is. And she wants to tell him she likes his father's eyes in his face. They slant, sliding, silky darkness. Joining was scary, but she made it worth the danger… They could help each other, make each other happy. Dorian you said I could ask you questions. Why can't they talk to each other inside The Heralds Rest?"
"Yes, Cole I did, but you do not have to ask permission every time you have a question for my delightful self. Hmm you're not talking about that boy in the tavern, what is his name… Southland? Nooo, Sutherland? The cutie that is freelancing for Cullen, are you sure? No, you are sure or you wouldn't have popped in for this lovely little visit." Dorian glanced at Bull then back at the spirit made young man.
"You know Cole I am not entirely sure, however I do know it is not about the where. Herald's Rest just happens to be where they are but back to the apex of your question. I believe fear of rejection might be the biggest reason people do not reach out to another. Though sometimes they just need a little push, at the right time and in the right place to take that last step. Perhaps Iron Bull and I can help you figure that part of it out for them?" The Altus smoothed his mustache absentmindedly. Unfortunately for him this unknowingly sprinkled biscuit crumbs into the wax he applied daily to keep his meticulous facial hair in its proper shape.
"I would like that." Cole replied, flashing them a fleeting smile from beneath the large brim of his hat.
"Josephine." Bull said around a mouthful of biscuit laden liberally with Jam.
"No. She and Tom Black are whole, happy… the Inquisitor says I have to call him that now but that is not his name, not like Blackwall was. Blackwall was more real than Tom Black. Then the Nightingale made Blackwall but not Blackwall die. Maybe with enough time Tom Black will become real too?" The spirit pursed his lips and seemed distracted for a moment "Josie and Tom take late night walks on the battlements when they think no one can see them, but I can see them, because they make each other's hearts happy. He calls her Josie like Leliana does." He explained as he reached across the table to take a jam covered biscuit off Iron Bull's plate. "Bull thinks that they taste like love, may I eat it so I can know what love tastes like?"
Bull swallowed and washed down the mouthful with a goblet of watered wine, then nodded "Sure kid."
Dorian could have sworn that he caught a smile peeking out from behind the book that Solas still held up in front of his face; steadily he turned the page once more as Dorian stared out of the corner of his eye.
He shrugged and refocused his attention on the spirit boy across from him, who did smile as he licked the last of the jam and crumbs off his fingers.
"Love tastes good, sweet but a little sour, tangy, warm and buttery, light in your mouth but heavy in your stomach. Thank you The Iron Bull. Thank you Dorian. I..." Cole stopped, and tilted his head as if listening to some call far off in the distance, only, a call he alone could hear. He pulled on the Fade again and half a moment later was gone leaving the chair across the table once again empty.
From the other end of the hall Varric's voice echoed slightly. "If that isn't the best description of love I have ever heard, well beside my own that is." He laughed slightly to himself as he dipped his feather quill again before he returned to writing.
"Bull I do believe you said he would not be able to hear us from there?" Dorian turned his mock sharp eyes on the mercenary who was finished the last bite of biscuit on his plate.
"Well the Dwarf I have in the Chargers couldn't have." Bull replied as he sighed in overly full contentment and placed a large gray hand on his nearly bare abdomen.
"Do not compare me to that fossil you have working for you, Bull. With all the explosives he uses you're lucky if he can hear at all!" The Dwarf mockingly yelled from the other end of the hall.
Just then the door behind Bull crashed open and the Inquisitor stormed through arms gesturing wildly, living up to her name.
"But Inquisitor this is the latest fashion from the Winter Palace! You must make a good impression if we are to survive the ball intact and more importantly the Game!" Josephine tried to calm the Inquisitor, her Antivan accent thick with the distress of the task before her.
"Listen to me Josie, I will not say it again, no matter how many 'alterations'-" The small, busty redheaded dwarf emphasized the word in the air with her hands. "You do to that horrible frothy pink nightmare I will not wear it! I would rather walk in stark naked!" Tempest stepped forward aggressively, her body tight, angry, she stalked closer to the prudently retreating Josephine.
"I understand, perhaps it was too much added... stress for you today. I will tell the Madam seamstress you will see her tomorrow … and the gown will be disposed of... yes we will just have to begin anew!" The paling Antivan sputtered as she rushed to close the door to the small inner hall that lead to her office.
The Inquisitor stood stock still, she clenched and un-clenched her fists before, she once again lived up to her name as she quickly made her way to the door that lead to the tower that currently only held her quarters. She slammed the door loudly behind her, and from the other side everyone in the hall could hear her deafening scream tinted with frustration and rage. Then the vehement voice of the lady Herald of Andraste, Holy Inquisitor of the Inquisition began to rant. " Nug sucking, darkspawn licking game and who in their blighted mind would think a dress needs seventeen layers of blasted PINK crinoline! Ohhhhh! How dare that pompous seamstress call me fat! Lay off the sweets, indeed? I understand I am no whispy elf or tall human but for a dwarf I am just fucking perfect!" The Inquisitor's words became fainter and fainter as did her thundering foot falls on each wooden step up the stairs. Dorian could just barely make out her continued tirade. "Manure in her snoody little hat... maybe Sera... Frack her!... or bees…Melon breasts indeed! Want to be paragon shite." The sound of another door slamming reverberated throughout the hall.
"Such a temper, and so much ardor!" Bull exclaimed as he clenched one large fist in the air. "She reminds me so much of the Seeker, when she goes on a rampage like that. She is just like that, all that fury, all that ferocity just under that scar-laced skin. Saved the best for last! Think she would want me to call her Seeker or Cassandra maybe Cass?" Satisfied, Bull leaned back in his chair and smiled.
"Amatus, I thought she had already shot you down out in the Forbidden Oasis? Maker, someone needs to rename that blasted maze of sand and stone! I would rather return to the Storm Coast than visit that detestable sea of sand." Dorian leaned forward, his head in his hands and elbows resting on the table top. The grand hall seemed to quiet in comparison t moments ago but faintly dorian could make banging sounds from far above. The Inquisitor likely was still in a foul mood, if he was to make a guess. He used the palms of his hands to rub his drooping eyes.
An even louder bang made him jump, startled by the Inquisitor as she strode back into the hall.
The tower door closed behind her as she slung her excursion pack over her armored shoulders. For a moment she stood on the dais, the sun streamed through the colored glass window, it set her in a dramatic colorful back light. For a brief second her hair in its high pony tail, fanned out behind her, her rogue style leathers tight across her generous bosom, the tails of her cloak streamed out around her tightly clad leather legs. Dorian and Iron Bull had always thought just her temper made her perfect for her name but in that instant she personified it.
Inquisitor Tempest Cadash, herald of Andraste, rogue of the Dwarven carta scowled as she scanned the hall before she walked over to the table occupied by the completely engrossed apostate elf, the smarmy Tevinter Altus and the horned Mercenary captain.
"Bull, Dorian, Solas, we leave within the candle mark. Grab your gear and meet me at the stables. I will have our mounts saddled and will hail a page to run for provisions and our tents." She commanded, her voice held a flint edge that could cut down anyone, King, Empress, or just her three road weary friends. She turned away, true to her word she excessively flung open the door that lead down to the kitchen and slammed it shut behind her. Leaving those in the hall glad that her wrath was not aimed at them.
Bull looked at Dorian and Dorian looked at Solas beside them, the lithe pointed eared mage sighed. "If she keeps this pace up, my friends, Corypheus will have nothing and no one left to destroy."
"Chuckles there has a point, even a seasoned fighter like me needs time to catch his breath between battles. If she keeps pushing herself like this she will start making make mistakes and those will get her dead. Or everyone dead." he huffed as he shook his head "Dorian, do you have any clue what is bothering her? I mean, you don't have to be a Ben Hasrath to see that she is stewing about something." Bull took the last sip of his watered wine and set the goblet down with a thud as he rose to his feet.
"I am sorry to say kadan, I haven't a clue, but I agree something must be, else she would not be pushing us all so hard. I suppose I must investigate, best friend duties and all, and besides, I need my beauty sleep. Have you seen these unattractive bags under my eyes?" Dorian whined, pushing his chair back in with his trademark flamboyant gestures.
Solas closed the book he had been reading before he too stood. The slim tome tucked into an inner pocket of his robes. "Dorian as you know, I couldn't help but overhear your lamentable conversation. Be it vastly ill located. However, I may have a solution for both your personal problem and our shared one. I will be quick as we only have ten minutes or so to pack before another grueling mission. Our Inquisitor needs a way to relieve the stress of her position." With that said the bald elf strode quickly away towards his temporary quarters in the rotunda, just off the main hall.
Bull turned slightly toward Dorian. "Well that would be one hell of a way of removing that tension. The Qun has the right idea. It is a need, just like food." He tilted his head to make eye contact with his human lover. "What do you think?"
Dorian resumed his cupped elbow posture a thumb on his bottom lip. "I think we need more information first before we make our decision. However I concede that I can't help but see you two do have an excellent point, about the stewing I mean."
