Ahem, another NSFW chapter…
Chapter Five: Trust
"And you never thought to mention this?" Cullen snapped, temper clearly fraying.
Rosalie had never been a fan of war table meetings, but this was the worst yet. It had been a long time coming, she supposed. The three advisors had called Rosalie in to confront her about a letter Leliana had intercepted. One from someone who expected Rosalie to 'do what is right' at the Winter Palace ball. One Leliana hadn't yet managed to trace back to an author.
"When was I supposed to mention it exactly?" she argued. "After the explosion at the conclave, you imprisoned me, pointed a lot of swords at me, and dragged me out in front of the left and right hands of the Divine. After that, in Haven, I had to do whatever I could to convince you that I was too useful to execute. Then an ancient darkspawn magister dropped out of the sky on a dragon and nearly killed us all. By the time all that was over, people were singing at me and kneeling in front of me and acting like the Maker himself sent me, so it seemed impractical to prove them wrong." She held up her hand, which obligingly let out a little burst of green magic as if to help prove her point, the odd not-quite-pain of which made her wince. "I never asked to be Inquisitor. I never asked for any of this."
"Did you ever stop to think not telling us could be worse?" Josephine countered. "The Trevelyans haven't disowned you yet, but the moment you set a foot wrong, they could denounce you publicly. All our support among the nobility would be erased. Every treaty and alliance we have built so far could be threatened by this." Everything she had worked so hard for, in other words.
Rosalie sympathized, but she wasn't sure what she could have done differently. Everything so far had simply been a reaction, an attempt to save her own skin while her life spiralled out of her control. Only since arriving at Skyhold had there been a moment to stop and breathe.
"This could still end with my execution," Rosalie sighed. "I know. I should have found a way to tell you. I should have trusted you to help me handle all of this."
"You still haven't told us who you really are. Your real name," Leliana pointed out. "Or who you work for."
"I'm the Inquisitor," Rosalie sighed heavily. "I work for you. Whoever sent me to spy on the Conclave, I've done nothing for them and everything for you since that explosion." If she sounded frustrated it was only because it felt like she'd been saying the same things over and over since the meeting began. "Does it matter who I am? I'm the one whose hand is green. I'm the one who everyone is willing to follow. Why is the rest important?"
"Because Corypheus doesn't need to defeat you if he can destroy all of your support," said Josephine.
From there, a lot more was said. The advisors began to talk over one another, then started bickering amongst themselves, just as they had done when they'd all been lost in the wilderness.
It took a shout from Rosalie to cut across the din of their arguing. "You know what? Why don't the three of you just decide amongst yourselves what to do about me? Why not make Leliana the Inquisitor, instead? Shit, make Sera the damn Inquisitor if you think she'd be a better one. It's not like there's any more pressing issues at the moment."
Perhaps it wasn't the wisest choice, but Rosalie's patience was at an end. She left the war room with an admittedly petty slam of the door and didn't look back.
Without any real consideration for where she was going, her feet took her down the stairs to Skyhold's basement, and into the hidden study most people didn't even know was there. She let the door slam behind her and moved to the desk, shoving aside a pile of books before slumping forwards to lean her hands against it as she caught her breath and tried to calm herself.
A few moments later she heard the door open behind her, followed by footsteps too heavy to be anyone but Iron Bull. "So how's that whole waiting until the right time plan working out?" he asked softly as she heard the door close behind him.
Rosalie sighed heavily. "I'm not interested in hearing I told you so right now, Bull," she snapped, still not turning to look his way.
He said nothing in response, but she heard his footsteps as he moved towards her. One hand reached around and settled on her stomach, pulling her into him quite roughly so that her back was pressed firmly against his chest. The other hand enveloped her throat and a sizeable forefinger slipped into her mouth, essentially gagging her as he tilted her head back and forced her to meet his gaze.
Instantly her anger slipped away. His dominance made it easy to let it go. She wasn't aware of the way her pupils dilated as she looked up at him, giving her away completely in spite of the half-hearted murmur of protest she gave at such manhandling. All she knew was that he'd taken control, and that meant that nothing outside of that room mattered for now.
Iron Bull smiled, a warm expression at first before it shifted into a smirk. "Feel like playing a game, boss?" he asked. The word boss was spoken almost mockingly now. After all, they both knew who the boss really was in that moment.
The finger in her mouth prevented her from saying more than a muffled mhmm, but he eased his hold on her face enough that she could give a slight nod as well.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, his hands slowly roaming down her arms before he gripped her by the elbows and turned her around quite suddenly. Rosalie didn't have time to think before she was hefted up onto the desk, and she was again reminded of the Qunari's superior strength. She trusted Bull implicitly - at least when it came to the games they played in private - but she was always aware that he could snap her like a twig if he chose to, always aware that it took control on his part to know exactly how much of his strength to use not to hurt her, and that in itself was arousing.
He wedged himself between her knees and one by one, the buttons of her tunic were undone as he asked, "What do you say if you want to stop?"
She tried to wrap her legs around him, but his hands quickly landed on her thighs and pressed them down onto the desk, which made her gasp and look up at him. It was an innocent expression she wore, as if she hadn't been trying to do anything at all. It didn't fool him for a second.
"Well?"
"I say Katoh," she breathed in response, feeling a flutter of nerves in her stomach.
Bull smiled and resumed opening her tunic. "Good," he growled. She still wasn't sure why just a word of praise from him was enough to bring her a small rush of pleasure, but the fact was undeniable.
Once the tunic was fully unbuttoned, he took no steps to remove it. He simply dragged a fingernail slowly up her body, starting at her navel and ending at her throat, where he tipped her chin up to look at him. "The door isn't locked," he pointed out in a low voice. "Think you can stay quiet?"
Rosalie answered with another nod before Bull claimed her mouth without warning, making her whimper softly in surprise against his lips. His hands slid under her tunic and reached around behind her to unclasp her breastband and tug it free. As the kiss continued, he traced his thumbs in slow, teasing circles around both of her nipples. It wasn't until their lips parted that he suddenly pinched them both at once, just firmly enough to illicit an abrupt yelp, and to blur the line between pain and pleasure.
A slow grin spread across his face. "You sure about that? Care to bet on it?"
"You mean if I stay quiet, I win, but if you get me to make a sound, you win?" she asked.
He gave a nod, his gaze by this point fixed on the nipple he was rolling between his thumb and forefinger. "Bard training against Ben-Hassrath training."
Rosalie licked her lips as she considered it. "What's the prize?"
His head dipped down to draw the lobe of her ear into his mouth and suck on it for a moment before he murmured in a low voice, "If you win, I'll take you against the door. Nice and safe. No chance of anyone walking in and seeing us. If I win, I take you right here on this desk..." He paused to brush the tip of his nose against the skin just behind her ear - a place she didn't even know she was sensitive until the movement evoked a shiver. "...And I give you something to make a lot of noise about." He looked to her with a raised eyebrow as if to ask, Well?
She grinned, hands gripping the edge of the desk as she leaned forwards so that her lips were tantalizingly close to his. "You don't stand a chance, Ben-Hassrath," she purred.
Rather than say anything in response, the Qunari reached into a pocket to pull out a length of ribbon, which he held up in front of her face. He met her gaze with a smirk and an eyebrow raised in challenge.
"Ah, so you've been waiting for an opportunity to ambush me? Good to know," she said playfully, clasping her hands together and offering him her wrists.
He kissed her softly, then trailed his lips along her cheek until they were at her ear again. "Talking counts as making a sound," he pointed out.
As Rosalie quickly pressed her lips together, Bull began to tie the ribbon around her wrists. He looked into her eyes almost as much as he watched what he was doing, but that didn't stop him from finishing off the knots he'd tied with a pretty little bow. She gave a subtle tug, quickly surmising that she could escape the ribbon if she truly wished to, given sufficient time to loosen it. That wouldn't help her in the heat of the moment though. For now, she was at his mercy.
From there things continued at a torturously slow pace. His hands went everywhere but where she expected them too, caressing her arms, her fingers, her neck and throat. The longer he kept her guessing, the more every nerve in her body became sensitive to his touch. At one point he paused to look her in the eyes and smirk as he saw her impatient expression.
Then he straightened up and walked several slow steps around the desk, before she felt his hands land on her waist from behind to suddenly tug her backwards until her back thudded against the warmth of his bare chest. She did well not to gasp. "You never specified any kind of time limit," he breathed into her ear.
His fingers splayed across her stomach before stroking up to caress her breasts, rolling each nipple between thumb and forefinger as Rosalie bit down on her lower lip and tilted her head back to rest against his chest. His head dipped down a moment later so that he could tease at her neck with his lips, teeth, and tongue.
When his right hand began to wander south, dipping past the waistband of her pants and into her smalls to find her already slick with desire, she turned her head to meet his gaze, to show him that she could win his game, even as his finger dancing around her pearl made the muscles of her stomach clench. Bull just gave her a knowing smile, like he was certain he'd already won.
Soon he had turned her around and was pushing her flat on the desk, tugging her pants loose and kissing his way along her hips and thighs with every inch of flesh he revealed. When finally she lay before him, dressed in nothing but her opened shirt and the ribbon binding her wrists, he stepped back and took a moment to look her up and down, admiring the sight of her bound and exposed before him. Rosalie wasn't usually one to blush, but she felt the approving rumble that sounded in his chest bring a touch of heat to her cheeks.
Their eyes locked in a heated gaze as he leaned over her to plant a trail of kisses down her stomach. His lips paused as she felt the stubble on his chin brush her mound, and Bull gently lifted her leg to rest on his shoulder.
Rosalie pressed her lips together firmly and swallowed, knowing this would be the truly challenging part. She was determined to win their little game, not matter how skillfully his tongue danced below, no matter how he made her want to cry out. She was prepared to resist that clever mouth.
She had not, however, prepared herself to resist his treacherous fingers as they suddenly tickled the arch of her foot, making her yelp with surprised laughter.
"You arse!" she chuckled, snatching her foot away. That wasn't tied down, after all. "That's got to be cheating." Admittedly, neither of them had specified how Bull had to get her to make a sound, but it certainly felt against the spirit of their game.
"Is it?" Bull laughed, then kissed a path from her ankle up all the way the inside of her leg. "How about a compromise then? I take you on the desk, then up against the door. Sound good?"
"That… ahh…" Suddenly his tongue made it nearly impossible to give him a proper answer. "Sounds... good," she gasped, unable to do anything in response other than hook her legs over his shoulders.
"Let me know when you can't hold any longer," he murmured, just as he slowly pushed a finger inside her. She gave an obedient nod, though she wondered why he was asking it of her. He would know when she was about to fall over the edge. Somehow he always seemed to know.
"Bull," she gasped breathlessly once she felt herself reach that point of no return.
He rumbled out a groan at the sound of his name, the vibrations of which she felt intimately. The next thing she knew, he was flipping her over. Her feet landed on the floor and his hands landed on her hips. She cried out as he pushed into her, the sudden force of it making her come in an instant.
A hand fisted in her hair, tugging strongly enough that she was forced to arch her spine and tilt her head back to look at him, her breasts bouncing in time with every powerful thrust. He rode her until her legs went weak beneath her and she had to rely on the desk to support her. He rode her until sweat dripped from her brow and trickled down her back. He rode her until she wasn't sure how much more she could take but found herself begging him not to stop all the same.
When he did stop, it wasn't a sudden thing but a gradual slowing before he pulled out, leaving an aching emptiness. He stopped to comb his fingers through her hair, leaving her to wonder what was about to happen, since she was certain he hadn't yet finished.
His other hand cupped her backside, then smacked it lightly as she heard him growl, "Ready for the door?" When she didn't answer right away, he gave her another playful smack. "Rosalie?"
"Y...Yes," she said through heavy breaths.
Another smack, more forceful this time, right on that delicious line between pleasure and pain. "Yes, what?"
She turned her head to look at him, a naughty smile on her lips as she answered, "Yes please, boss."
With a chuckle, he turned her over and shifted her back until she was once again lying flat on her back on the desk, then brushed aside the hair that clung to the sweat on her face. "Now that's a sight I won't forget in a hurry," he murmured appreciatively, taking a moment to look down at her.
The next thing she knew, she was sitting up on the desk, and he untied the ribbon binding her wrists. He wrapped her arms around his neck, then reached behind his head to re-tie the knots. "Not too tight?" he checked.
She shook her head, realizing that this new arrangement left her tied to him and forced to stare up at him.
He nudged her legs apart, then wrapped them around his waist, his hands gripping her ass and hefting her up off the desk even as he pushed inside her once more. Rosalie's eyes rolled back in her head momentarily as he bounced her a bit until his grip on her was more comfortable for both of them, and then he walked her over to the door as he'd promised. It was a rather clumsy journey across the room, knocking several dusty tomes from the shelves along the way until finally he pressed her against the door and claimed her lips for a passionate kiss as he pressed her against it.
With each slow thrust of his hips she was slammed against that door, but she barely noticed it. Her awareness dimmed down just to how very deeply he could penetrate her in this position. Where he'd been rough and fast before, now he was achingly slow, making her feel every inch of him. After a while, he adjusted them so that her legs were tucked over his forearms, allowing him to bounce her up and down his length.
She didn't notice her fingernails digging in at the back of his neck and the tops of his shoulders. She didn't even notice that her head was resting against the door or that she'd closed her eyes tightly. At least, not until he heard Iron Bull urge her to look at him.
The look in his eye was all heat and desperation, and it was all she needed to send her into blissful shudders once more, though "I'm… I'm… nhhh… Bull!" was about as close as she could get to telling him so.
She heard the violent rattling of the door hinges as he pulled his arms away to press his palms flat against the door either side of her. Then it was just the pressing of his hips holding her up as he groaned loudly, chasing her orgasm with one of his own.
When all fell still, he cupped her face with both hands and kissed the crown of her head, then gently lowered her. As her feet found the floor, her legs initially refused to support her weight, but she was saved from a fall by the fact that her wrists were still bound together behind his neck.
Reaching back to untie the ribbon, Bull looked down at her with an admiring expression, then chuckled. "We're really going to have to do something about your hair." He said the words almost proudly, and it was only then that Rosalie realized it had come loose from its bun. "Come on." At that, he picked her up and carried her to the desk.
"Upsy daisy?" she suggested. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the noises she'd been making, but she still managed to sound teasing.
He laughed. "Yeah. Upsy daisy."
Setting her down on the desk, he began to comb the tangles from her hair with his fingers. Then he massaged her scalp, which felt wonderful mixed together with the pleasurable little shudders that were still rolling through her body. She couldn't help but close her eyes and smile, feeling utterly relaxed in spite of the fact that she was only in this dusty old study because she'd stormed out of a meeting. The meeting couldn't have been further from her mind in that moment, in fact, which was no doubt Bull's entire reason for following her. He had that knack for knowing exactly what people needed, after all.
"You know, if I hadn't seen for myself what happened on that dreadnought run, I'd swear this was all some genius scheme to win my trust so you could influence me," she murmured idly.
"Not a bad plan," he admitted. "Given that you saw my own people trying to kill me, what's your new theory?"
She opened one eye to look at him. "I haven't entirely dismissed the idea that the assassins were just an elaborate ruse to fool me. I've seen bards go to greater lengths to fool a mark into misplacing their trust," she admitted.
His fingers began to separate her hair into strands and weave them together. "In Seheron, the moment you let your guard down, fool yourself into thinking you're safe or that the people you actually give a shit about won't stick a knife in your back, you usually wound up dead or not far off it. From what I've seen of the circles bards move in, it's kind of like that only everyone's smiling and wearing dumb masks. Not an easy way to grow up."
Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "You think I grew up there, do you?"
"The years that mattered? Yeah."
She never bothered telling him he was right. "You'll see for yourself what it's like before long. I'm guessing you won't be a fan."
"I might be if the food's good enough," he murmured. "There." He lowered the now completed braid down over one shoulder so that she could appreciate the red ribbon he'd woven through it and used to tie the end - the same one that had bound her wrists moments ago.
The sight brought a smile to her lips. "Thank you."
"As for Halamshiral… That's coming whether you want it to or not. Orlais needs a butt on the throne or there'll be chaos. That means Corypheus wins. None of us wants that."
She sighed, feeling the tension return to her shoulders just at the mention of it. "I know."
"You want my advice?" he asked gently.
Rosalie let out a longing groan. "What I want is to spend all day locked away someplace with you." She paused to glance at the tip of her braid. "And perhaps a length of rope." That made him groan. "But for now I'll settle for your advice."
"Make nice with Red," he said plainly. "Whatever's coming at the Winter Palace is going to be a mess for you if you don't."
With another sigh she hopped down from the desk and began to dress herself, making sure everything was buttoned up correctly and nothing looked too skewiff. Thankfully Bull had managed not to rip anything this time.
"I'm not going to make the mistake of assuming I'm indispensible. Leliana might still decide I'm more trouble than I'm worth." Especially when she figures out who my bard master is, though Rosalie left that part unspoken. "But I will try."
"As for the length of rope you mentioned…" He stepped forward and drew her into a slow kiss, ending with a squeeze and smack of her backside. "Looking forward to it."
"See you later, Bull," she breathed, then moved past him towards the door.
Bull, as she'd expected, noted a slip of fabric still lying on the floor as she walked away, and bent down to pick it up. "Hey, you forgot these," he called after her, waving the lacy black pair of smalls in the air.
She glanced back at him and blinked innocently as she asked, "Did I?"
Hearing his chest rumble with an approving groan, she slipped from the room before he could say anything in response, a self-satisfied little grin on her face that he couldn't see.
When she arrived back at her room, Leliana was waiting beside the door, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her hood down so low that most of her face was hidden in shadow. Given that they were standing at the top of a staircase at the top of the tallest tower in Skyhold, Rosalie couldn't help but feel nervous.
"Mathis Travére," the Spymaster said. "I'm ashamed it took me this long to figure it out."
Rosalie swore internally at the mention of her bard master, but didn't dignify the comment with a response. Yet.
"If it were someone more acceptable; someone working with the Templars or the Chantry, you would have come to me. You're no fool, Rosalie. Once you were made the Inquisitor, you knew you had become indispensable. You would have come to me and admitted who you really are. There's only one reason you wouldn't."
Desperately wishing this conversation could happen elsewhere, Rosalie replied, "What reason would that be?"
Leliana changed her stance, clasping her hands together behind her back. Rosalie didn't doubt the woman was gripping a pair of hidden knives just in case she needed to strike. Rosalie herself had a concealed blade up one sleeve, just in case she needed to defend herself.
"Empress Celene," said the Spymaster. "Before the attack on Haven, you learned that Corypheus wants her dead. Your bard master is in the Grand Duke's pocket, is he not? He wants to see Gaspard become Emperor. Your loyalties are divided in this, so you chose to bear your secret alone a while longer." She gave Rosalie an appraising look from head to toe. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Rosalie wasn't sure whether to bow her head and admit it was true, run in the other direction, or attack her spymaster and try to throw her over the staircase railing before she could cause any serious problems. Panicked, her grip on the hidden blade tightened, which called Leliana's attention to it. A mistake her bard master, Mathis, would have chided her for quite harshly.
Leliana surged forwards to pin Rosalie to the wall, her blade at the Inquisitor's throat in the blink of an eye.
Thinking quickly, Rosalie let the anchor on her left hand surge with magic, causing a burst of green that broke Leliana's focus. She then took advantage of the split-second distraction to bear the spymaster to the floor, straddling the woman and pinning her arms to keep her down. It was, admittedly, a sight that Iron Bull probably wouldn't have minded arriving to.
"We need to find a way to work together," Rosalie insisted fiercely. "You can't trust me? Fine. At least trust that I want to stop Corypheus. I don't want to run anymore and hiding isn't an option. The only way this ends well for either of us is if we work together in Halamshiral."
"You're right," Leliana agreed, then took advantage of Rosalie letting go of her hands and flipped their position so that the Inquisitor was pinned beneath her. The movement made her hood fall back, giving Rosalie her first full view of the woman's red hair and pretty face. Up close, she smelled like those little white bell-shaped flowers that grew in the forests of Ferelden. "Then let's talk."
She jumped up and offered a hand to Rosalie, who accepted the help up. Rosalie opened the door to her quarters and stepped back to gesture Leliana inside.
"I heard that these days, Travére is bard master to a pair of twin sisters," the woman remarked as she followed Rosalie inside.
Rosalie held up her left hand, palm open to show the still-glowing mark. "I don't think you need to worry about someone else taking my place."
Leliana moved to the desk where a bottle of Antivan brandy sat beside two glasses. She filled them both, then offered one to Rosalie, who paused to consider whether she should accept. It was never safe to assume that an opponent was above using poison to achieve their goal, after all. In the end, she took the glass and sipped from it, deciding that Leliana was simply offering a chance to prove that they could trust one another. They needed to trust one another. Halamshiral would be dangerous enough.
"Marjolaine was your bard master," Rosalie noted. Mathis hadn't sent her to the conclave unprepared, after all. "Have you seen her since you parted ways?"
The woman took a long sip of brandy before answering. "Once. In Denerim, during the blight. I made it clear she should keep her distance. A warning she took seriously, evidently."
"Do you miss her?" Rosalie asked, expecting Leliana to simply brush away the question.
"Once I did," she answered softly. "Time made it easier to see the reasons I did not belong at her side." She took another sip, then raised an eyebrow and looked to Rosalie. "I imagine this is the longest you have gone without seeing Mathis since he found you. Were you a refugee from the blight? You sound more Fereldan than Orlesian."
Rosalie nodded, supposing she shouldn't be surprised how much her own spymaster had managed to figure out. "My sister and I were fourteen. He found us in Jader, singing in the street to beg for scraps."
"His hold on you will be difficult to break, especially considering he still controls your sister. But you are our Inquisitor, and you must do first what is best for the Inquisition. I need to know that you will, or everything Cullen, Cassandra, Josephine, and myself have worked so hard to accomplish will have been for nothing. All of those deaths in Haven will have been for nothing."
"He'll be waiting to corner me at the Winter Palace," Rosalie sighed, still feeling a bit hopeless about the whole mission. Leliana adding to the pressure she already felt didn't help much.
"And I will be ready for him. You worry about Celene. I will worry about Mathis Travére," Leliana insisted. "You said we need to work together, this is how we'll do it. If it helps, consider me your bard master from now on."
Rosalie blinked. "I could do that. When it comes to matters of the Game, of course. Here in Skyhold, I'm still the one who sits on the throne."
"Of course," Leliana replied. "We're in agreement, then?"
The Inquisitor took a moment to consider that, then nodded and clinked her glass against Leliana's. "We are." Indeed, for the first time, she felt like perhaps a future in her role as Inquisitor was not an impossibility. Perhaps this could work.