Chapter 11

Andraste's marriage bed! Fitzwilliam was, admittedly, in a sour mood. How had a day that started so beautifully turned to absolute nug shit in only a few hours? The nobles, of course, were always an issue but the new rifts? Well, the rifts had been a problem he hoped were going to solve themselves, with the Breech sealed. But no. No, of course not.

Nobles are easy, Ash. He could practically hear Feladara in his head, see him smirking and looking all manner of wicked. A knife in the back, across the throat, get creative.

Those thoughts and images should have worried him. Fantasies conjured by imagination though they were, and harmless, he knew he ought to be concerned at how easily the elf's voice and face came to mind. How vividly his presence seemed to linger despite the distance. The wicked words he whispered.

He wasn't. At all. In fact, by the time he'd walked into the tavern, guided by memory more than conscious effort, his lips were quirking up at the corners.

Distracted as he was, it was no surprise that he failed to notice he had company until it was upon him.

"Good to see you, Boss," Iron Bull smiled and slapped him on the back - a tempered gesture but it still shifted Fitzwilliam off balance. "Wasn't sure when we'd get to see you again. Your visits have been... "

"Brief? Focused? All business and no fun?" Fitz offered with a laugh. Bull's hand lingered, the massive spread of it covering the span of his shoulders with a comforting, reassuring warmth that he had missed. He leaned into it as the calloused pad of Bull's thumb made small strokes across the back of his neck.

"Something like that," Bull agreed. His voice had gone soft but it was all business when he continued. "So, what brings you to my den of debauchery?"

"Had something I'd like to talk over with you, and Sera," he added casting his eyes about. "If she's…" He didn't have time to finish. In one blurred moment a small figure had dropped over the railing from the second floor and crashed into him. He had time to shift enough that he could counter an attack.

Sera, however, favored an unusual method which he was unable to resist. In moments he found himself standing, but with a delighted elf wrapped around him in a full body hug, Bull's hand removed as the Qunari had stepped back and abandoned him to his fate. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "I'm happy to see you too," he chuckled.

Honestly, he should have known better. The punch, when it came, thudded against his upper arm more than hard enough to bruise and with enough force to send him stumbling - just as Bull's hearty greeting had. "Um…" Fitz rubbed at his smarting arm and looked at the scowl on Sera's face with mild confusion.

"You've been gone too long, you butt!" Sera snapped, punching him again.

"Ow! Sera!"

"Oh shut it!" She shoved him, stepped back and folding her arms. "I see how it is. Comin' and goin' to see Leliana but not time for us lot over here. You deserve all the punches. Maybe a kick." She looked like she was actually considering it and Fitzwilliam took a step out of range to save his shins. He hoped she planned to go for the shins…

But the grouchy look on the elf's face disappeared, bursting into a wide grin and bright laugh. "You're here now, though. Finally decided to pay us a visit, yeah?"

"If a visit means lots of drinking and some advice from the two best spies I know," Fitzwilliam said, rubbing the sting out of his upper arm. "Then yes - a visit." He tried to smile but he probably looked a great deal more nervous than he wanted to. It was hard to disguise his emotions from his friends at the best of times. Now, with all the uncertainty and turmoil he felt? Well, it was clear they saw right through him.

"I'll get the drinks, Boss. Itty bitty, should we go to yours or mine?"

Sera rolled her eyes. "Mine. His smells like… well, him."

Bull just laughed, large palm coming to rest atop Sera's head and ruffling the straw coloured mess of hair into more disarray. "And yours has cushions." He smirked over at Fitzwilliam. "I like the pink ones."

"Gave him one of his own." Sera batted at Bull's hand, looking for all she was worth like a grouchy kitten - enough so that Fitzwilliam had to stifle a laugh at the sight. He didn't want another bruise to match the one blossoming on his arm. "Ay! Stop it, Arsefeatures!" She wiggled out from under Bull's hand. "Drinks. Go. Shoo or something."

She waved her hand towards the bar before snagging Fitzwilliam by his jacket sleeve and towing him towards the stairs, Bull's loud laughter trailing behind them.

It was only a handful of moments after they'd made their way upstairs - Sera rambling on about the Jennies and arrows in a way that reminded him of an excited toddler and throwing cushions about - that Iron Bull ducked into the room and put three glasses and two bottles of alcohol on the small round table.

At the best of times Sera's quarters were cozy. On the many occasions he had visited Fitzwilliam had felt, very keenly, that he was an enormous man when compared to the smaller elf. Now, with three people in the apartment, one of whom was actually an enormous man, they were dancing on the edge where cozy met cramped.

Thankfully, Iron Bull, who was used to needing to fit into spaces not at all made with his height and girth in mind, shot him a grin and a wink before tucking himself into the far corner. A corner in which all of the pinkest pillows had conspicuously taken up residence.

"So, Boss." Was Bull hugging a cushion to his chest? Fitzwilliam blinked, taking in the absurd sight for a moment before shaking his head. He'd been too long away from his friends if their antics were at all surprising to him. "What do you need us for?"

Fitzwilliam helped himself to a drink, indulging in a long pull before squeezing his eyes shut and blurting, "I have a crush on a elf who might be spying on me and Dorian and I don't know what to do about it."

"An elf?" Fitzwilliam might have wilted under the look of disappointed disbelief in Sera's face if it didn't look like she was also about to start cackling with laughter. "In Tevinter? What you find a pretty slave and thought you'd get your end in?" At Fitzwilliam's distressed noise, she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. C'mon I don't think you're like that. But where'd you find yourself an elf in Tevinter?"

"Itty has a point." Bull's eyebrow quirked. "'Vints aren't known for letting elves a free leash. Not enough to be a spy."

He ducked his head into his cup and drank more. He had a feeling there was going to be a lot of drinking. "He's an assassin I've been working with." His voice went up at the end, uncertain sounding and presenting the statement like a question. For the Maker's sake he was the Inquisitor he shouldn't be acting like this. But, no. Here, with friends, he didn't have to be. "Dorian thinks… he doesn't trust him. Thinks he's become too close too fast. So I'm going to investigate and I need your help to do that."

"Not trusting assassins is considered a good move." Bull retrieved his drink, pausing before he threw back a large mouthful to regard Fitzwilliam with a considering expression. "Don't blame Dorian for not being too happy with things."

Sera snorted. "Too much jousting not enough thinking, yeah? S'not my area. Assassins and elves and all that shifty dark hidden stuff. Or jousting." She snickered, reaching for her own drink and prodding Fitzwilliam in the shin with her toes. "Whatcha need me for, anyways?"

"There has been no jousting," Fitzwilliam sputtered, cheeks flushing. He twisted his lips and considered her question. "Don't take this the wrong way, Sera," he said slowly. "But you don't think like other people. That's what I need you for. Also," he continued in a reluctant mumble. "I might need you to smack me if I'm being stupid."

The back of Sera's hand thumped against his chest and then the flat against the back of his head. "You're being stupid." She grinned. "Crushes on assassins you don't know? Stupid! Where's he even from, huh?"

Bull laughed but his smiled turned downright affectionate at Fitz's pout. "It's best to assume she's gonna be smack happy, Boss." He took another long pull from his cup. "Seems to me, like what you're really asking is how do I spy on a spy, am I right?" Fitzwilliam nodded. "Well then, no matter what she says Sera will be helpful. She'd been spying on me for weeks when she got here." He winked at her with his good eye. She rolled hers.

"I had questions. Important questions." Sera waved her hand but her shoulders squared and her chest puffed up in just a little display of pride. "But whatever. S'what it was. Now we gotta help this one with his problems like he didn't run off to Tevinter and got himself into stupid shyte again."

"Yes please," Fitzwilliam agreed. Maker, but Sera had a way of making him feel like the little brother that couldn't stop fumbling about. "Crushes aside, he's got me wildly outskilled here. I need to figure out how to get information on him without him finding out. Just enough to know if Dorian's got the right idea or not. He seems like he genuinely wants to help but… well, he's an assassin."

"Have to say, you're not giving us much to work with here." Bull considered his drink for a moment, paused for another pull before gesturing at Fitzwilliam with the cup. "You're an assassin and you're too damn trustworthy."

Sera giggled, that familiar, wild burst of laughter tugging at Fitzwilliam's own lips in response despite the flush painting itself across his cheeks at Bull's words. "You gotta know something about him. More than he's an elf and an assassin and you wanna shag him, right?"

"I guess so," Fitzwilliam sighed. "He's Dalish."

"Uuuuuuugh, an elfy elf?!" Sera pulled a face. "What's one of those doing out of their precious trees and in the city?"

"I don't know, Sera," Fitz groussed. "That's kind of the point."

"Well what do you know?"

"If you let him talk, he might tell you." Bull pointed out, amused and affectionate and smirking.

"Pssshh." Sera slumped back onto the cushions.

"He's Dalish," Fitzwilliam tried again. "But he's never talked about his clan or where he comes from. That might just be to keep his identity hidden, but I don't know. I get the feeling he never talks about them. Maybe he was exiled? I know he's only been in Tevinter a short time. Less than two years, certainly, given what he knows about the political situation currently. His knowledge is extensive on current events, but doesn't extend back too far."

"Don't know much about the Dalish." Bull offered. "Only the bits and pieces Dalish has talked about sometimes. No Dalish clans in Tevinter or Par Vollen. Some Dalish become Viddathari. Not many, but some. You have to do some bad shit to be exiled from a clan, I know that much."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Probably not exiled then. Left voluntarily? Or, I don't know." He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it. "Do the Dalish have spies?"

"Like I said, don't know much about the Dalish." Bull continued and Sera shrugged expressively, but stayed silent. Surprisingly. "Elves becoming assassins, yeah. Elves becoming spies - had enough of them in the Ben Hasrath. They're suited for it. Haven't heard about the Dalish even needing spies."

"They're too busy being snobby pricks." Sera muttered. "So much better than the rest of us. Even Solas hated them and he was all 'elf pride and ancient worlds and I'd rather sleep and be creepy and weird'."

"If he's in Tevinter it's because he wants to be." Bull went on like he'd not even heard Sera. "It's a weird place for a Dalish to go, Boss. He wants to be there, it's for a damn good reason."

"That's a fair point." He let his fingers trace the rim of his cup. "As far as I can tell he's trying to single-handedly take down the slave trade in Tevinter."

Bull let out a low whistle and Sera leaned forward, suddenly a lot more interested.

"He's fighting for the slaves?" She asked. "Doing something for the little people?"

A smirk pulled at his lips. "Thought that might pique your interest. Our last mission we saved dozens of elvhen children destined for… well, everything you know slaves are for in Tevinter." His smiled softened as he spoke. "Three pens. The youngest could barely walk, they were sweet and scared and Fel calmed them with little effort. Almost like he was practiced with caring for little ones. Then again, I guess the Dalish are used to sharing that responsibility. The eldest and prettiest were destined for the brothels." His lips twisted. "They were more wary." He sighed, thinking of how unwilling they were to come with him and how beautifully Feladara had managed to get them to come with them to safety - how he had understood them. The next sigh was decidedly more affectionate.

"You're completely gone on him!" Sera cried, jabbing a finger at Fitzwilliam - making a loud smooching sound and leaning forward with a ridiculous flutter of eyelashes. "All sighing and mushy when you talk. S'almost as bad as it was with Dorian."

"Yeah," Bull agreed. "Kinda seeing the whole crush thing plain as day, Boss."

"Super helpful, oh great Ben'hasrath," Fitzwilliam grumbled. "Truly superior powers of observation."

A quirked eyebrow and a wide grin was his answer. "I'm hearing a lot about how much you like him and what you don't know about him. Not much about why he might being spying on you."

"Yeah, sure Dorian isn't just all twisted silky underthings cause you're mooneyes about someone else?" Sera snickered.

"I'm sure," Fitzwilliam said. "That's not how our relationship works. If he was upset about that he'd say. He's concerned for my safety. He thinks the elf is getting too close, too quickly and if I'm being objective, I agree. He turned up out of nowhere by contacting my handler and posing as someone with a job. The job was a test, which almost got me killed. Probably would have if he hadn't stepped in. And then he was all 'let's team up!'" When he said it all out loud like that it did sound pretty suspicious. Still, he couldn't bring himself to think badly of Feladara. "So yes, I'm gone on him, but Dorian's right. It was all too neat to be a coincidence. He probably has an agenda."

"He has an agenda." Bull agreed, leaning forward just a bit from his sprawl and cushions spilling on the floor. "He wouldn't be in Tevinter if he didn't. You want to find out if his agenda includes you. Why it would."

"Makes no sense, though." Sera shrugged. "He don't know who you are, right? You're being all hidden and secretive when you're off being an assassin, yeah? So why'd he be interested in you if you're just another assassin?"

"My guess would be because I've been picking off Magisters who ordered a lot of slaves," Fitzwilliam confessed. "He hasn't come right out and said it, but it would fit with his own work. At least, I'm hoping that's it." He went to take a sip from his cup only to find it empty. He reached out and poured more from the bottle. "Because if it's not, then he knows more about my assassin counterpart than I am entirely comfortable with."

"If he's all about freeing the slaves, makes sense you've caught his eye if you're about dealing with the arses that are buying them." Sera tilted her head, considering. "Don't need to know who you are to want to get you on side."

"From what you've said, Boss, he's springing slaves out from under 'Vints noses and living to keep doing it." Bull reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink. "You said he's got you outskilled so you've worked with him enough to get some idea of what he can do. Lay it out for us here. What skills does he have?"

A long, slow whistle left his lips. "That's a long list. I've really only seen him in stealth and disposal, but he's damn good. He has deft fingers too. Picked my damn pocket." He chuckled affectionately and took a drink. "But he's a whirlwind when he fights. I've seen him take down half a dozen targets without batting an eye and men easily three times his size. The only thing I've see him struggle with is magic users and even then only the entropy mage gave him any real grief.

"He runs the rooftops of Minrathous as if he were moving through a forest on a hunt. Hard to see, harder to hear." Fitzwilliam tried not to sound like a lovesick adolescent listing off admirable qualities but the truth of the matter was that Feladara was a force. He did what he did very very well. "I haven't been with him on any intel gathering missions," he pressed on, "so I can't attest to how he gets it, but he's yet to be wrong, so I'm betting he's good at that too."

"Skills like that don't just happen. He had to get them, had to train somewhere. With someone." The sparkle of amusement in Bull's eye made it quite clear Fitzwilliam hadn't managed to keep all the lovesick admiration from his voice. Still, Bull's interest had been captured, that much Fitzwilliam could see. "You don't just decide one day 'I'm going to free the slaves' either."

Sera snorted. "Don't know any Dalish who want to do anything but hide in their trees. Something got up his arse if he left that behind and went to Tevinter."

"Look into how he got his skills. Why he might be in Tevinter. If he's after you for some reason, it'll come out when you work all that shit out."

He didn't like the sound of that at all, but it was good advice. Fitzwilliam nodded thoughtfully and stared into his drink. "He can't be that old," he mumbled to himself. "Younger than I am certainly. Around 24 years, maybe? How long does it take to build skills like that, even training relentlessly. A decade or more?"

"He started young." Bull agreed. "Real young, if you're placing his age right. Don't know many parents that'd let their young go off to train to be an assassin. How did you know he was Dalish? He tell you?"

"Vallaslin," Fitzwilliam said, lifting a finger to trace down his forehead to the bridge of his nose. "Just here. Mythall, I think."

"Huh. Pretty sure they don't get that til they're considered adults right? Heard Dalish mention something like that." Oh yes, Bull was definitely curious now. "So he's training to be a spy and assassin while with his clan. I dunno, Boss. I'm starting to think Dorian is right about this. Really right."

"Don't know any Dalish who'd want to be in Tevinter no matter what." Sera shook her head. "This one's up to something. Good something, bad something. Bit of both, I dunno. Something."

Fitz shot her a half-smile. This was not what he wanted to hear, but clearly he'd needed to hear it. "Yeah. Dorian's usually right about things," he agreed. Gulping the liquor, the harsh burn of it helped clear his head. "I'm going to have to find out what, then."

"See if you can find out where he was before Tevinter. He got an accent or anything? Said anything about anyone outside of Minrathous? Met with anyone?" Bull took a long pull of his drink and reclined back in his usual sprawl. "Be your best place to start."

"Accent is vaguely Marchian. Not as thick as it might be if he were born and raised in one place, so I'd assume his clan was one of the more social ones. Moving around and meeting with other clans at the very least." Fitzwilliam tapped his finger on the cup and thought. "He's hasn't mentioned names of any associates, but he did take me to meet with the smugglers when we got the slaves out of the city."

"He's working with smugglers?"

"More people he works with, easier it is to find someone who will talk 'bout him." Sera added.

"Rivaini woman was the captain. There was an elf with her, darkish skin, covered in bright white tattoos, cranky as the Void. They were a… singular pair. Seemed they'd made the trip several times before, but it will be a long while before they're back." He sighed and slumped back into the soft pillows, the alcohol finally relaxing him some. Or perhaps it was due more to the fact that they were making a bit of progress, no matter how small, on unraveling the mystery that was Feladara.

"Give what you know to Red." Bull gestured with his cup towards where Leliana and her own spies resided. "He's not just freeing slaves - he's organised. Organised means some kind of operation. Could be a small thing but I'm betting it's not. I recognise the description of those smugglers from listening to Varric on the road. If they're who I think they are, you'll be wanting to talk to him."

"There's a Jenny in Tantervale, 'nother in Kirkwall. If he was doing spying or assassining in the Free Marches - kind you're talking about. Helping people 'stead of looking for coin. Then they might have used him before." Sera shrugged. "Or know him. I'll ask."

"Keep the investigation going here, you don't do anything different with him than you've done already there." Bull added. "He's as good as you're saying he is, he'll know you're on to him."

"Thank you." Fitzwilliam fixed Sera first with a sincere, lingering smile that was bound to make her uncomfortable, but he did it all the same.

"Pssh, yeah, whatever." Fitzwilliam's lips twitched as Sera's cheeks pinked and she bit her lip, shoving him hard enough to push him sideways. "Turn that face off or point it somewhere else."

The toe of his boot pushed her back some, but he did indeed "point his face somewhere else." He turned to Bull, smiling fondly, but a bit more sheepishly. "And you, Bull." He bobbed his head in a nod. That one made his cheeks pink. He had an… involved relationship with Bull and while complicated it had been invaluable. As his advice always proved to be.

"Ugh no, that's worse!" Sera cried, pushing Fitzwilliam again. "Now you're mooneyes over him. Go be gross somewhere else and come back before you go. Say goodbye this time, arse."

"Fiiine," Fitzwilliam laughed. He reached behind his back and placed a small cloth parcel on the table before standing to take his leave. "Those are for you, Sera. Bull and I will take our mooneyes elsewhere." He darted head head down and dropped a kiss atop her head before dodging out of the reach of yet another punch thrown his way.

He didn't quite manage to dodge the pillow she hurled at him, feeling it impact the back of his head as he slipped through the doorway. He almost caught the second in the face as he turned around, leaning to the side just in time to feel is sail past his ear and land with a muffled thump on a table behind him. Bull's raucous laughter joined Sera's grumbles and complaints, the warrior stooping down to exit the room just as Sera opened the package sitting on her table.

"YES!" She crowed, immediately diving in and plucking out a cookie to shove into her mouth. "Oh these are good!"

His head tilted back, displaying his self-satisfied smirk to Bull. "She's easy to please," he laughed. "All that complaining," he raised his voice, throwing it back over his shoulder to make sure Sera heard him. "But give her a bag of cookies and she goes all gooey!"

"Shut it!" Her voice was muffled with cookie crumbs and Fitzwilliam snickered.

"Got a moment, Boss?" Bull wasn't laughing anymore and it pulled Fitzwilliam up short.

"For you?" He attempted a cheeky smile, a bit of flirtation, but wasn't sure he pulled it off. The next word came out more sincere than he'd intended and a great deal less playful. A somber Bull had that effect. "Always." He gestured for Bull to lead the way.

Fitzwilliam was surprised when Bull lead them past his usual haunt in the corner of the main floor of the tavern. Instead he took him outside and around the corner where the practice dummies stood. No one lingered nearby, the nook relatively quiet and abandoned for the moment. His brow furrowed and he looked up in obvious concern. "What's wrong?"

"Look, Boss. I know you're a trusting guy, but… well, I have to say - I agree with Dorian." He was reluctant, the way one might break bad news to a loved one, words coming out terse, but not harsh. "You lead with your heart most times, that's a rare and special thing. But not always smart."

He out a long sigh. "I know what you're both saying. I understand it. I'm doing something about it. But…" How did Fitzwilliam explain what he just knew. Somehow, despite it all. Despite very real and very understandable concerns, he trusted Feladara. And how that trust...it was damn near unshakable at the moment, it seemed. He couldn't explain it to himself. How could he begin to explain it to anyone else - even someone as insightful as Iron Bull. Shoulders slumping, he ducked his head as he repeated. "I'm doing something about it."

A single thick finger reached out, curling under his fallen chin and urging his head back up. "Fitzwilliam," Bull said softly, eyes shining with affection and something fierce - loyalty? Protectiveness? "Do you need me to come to Tevinter?" The offer took the breath right from his chest. Iron Bull was terrified of the Warren, of the Fade in general really, but the Warren especially. "I'll come if you need me to. Not the Inquisitor. You."

His chin quivered. He'd been intending to say no. To tell Bull it was a much-appreciated offer but he would be okay. But suddenly, with all the pretense tossed away, he found himself unable to craft the lies. Eyes welled with unshed tears and he nodded. Bull pulled him to his… well, abdomen, given the height difference, and wrapped his arms around him. "Then I'll come." They stood like that for a long while, bodyheat mingling until he wasn't entirely sure where he ended and Bull began, but eventually Fitzwilliam pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Bull let out a low chuckled that practically reverberated in Fitzwilliam's chest. "For what, Boss? Needing someone?" Fitz shrugged. "Don't be stupid. We all need help sometimes. You told me that." A lopsided smile tugged at his lips.

"Do you," Fitz hesitated, worrying his lip between his teeth. Bull fixed him with a look and he sighed. "I was just wondering if maybe you'd come see me tonight?"

He thought the question had Bull looking just a little bit besotted but it could have just been the slight smile. "Yeah, Boss. I think I could do that for ya. I'll come when you're done doin' the rounds."

"How will you know I'm done?"

Bull quirked a brow as if Fitz had asked a particularly stupid question before poking himself in the chest with a single large digit. "Spy."

"Oh, right." Fitzwilliam blushed and ducked his head. "Well, I'm going to go now before I make an even bigger fool of myself."

"You better come back again while you're here," Bull said seriously. "Or Sera will throw bees into your room. And since I'm staying there with you, I'd prefer she didn't."

It was unavoidable, Fitzwilliam's watery voice broke with sudden laughter and he bobbed his head in agreement. "I'll be back. Tell Sera I hid more cookies on the roof." He went up on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Bull's sternum, the highest point he could reach unassisted, before turning and jogging toward the keep.

Bull's laughter followed him all the way up the winding rookery stairway.

Authors' Note:

R: Okay, well that was delightful. Much better than slogging through ch 10.

E: Any time spent with Sera and Bull is delightful. I've gotta admit, it was really good writing them again. And seeing them in the story.

R: I missed them too. Even if we do have really lovely things planned for them all. In 100 years, if we keep going at this rate *laughs*

E: Yeeeeeah. *sheepish grin* We're going to do our best to get these chapters up on the regular instead of the grab basket schedule that's kind of happened recently.

R: *nods lots* We can do it. Got tons done already! And exciting things on the horizons. Things are really going to get moving.

E: Oh yeah. So much is about to happen and happen quickly. Be prepared for the plot to begin climbing the hill to the start of this rollercoaster ride. Free fall is soon. *nods lots too*

R: So… yeah. I guess that's it. We'll try to be better about regular updates, exciting things are coming, and woo!

E: *snickers* I think that sums it all up nicely.

R: *smiles* shush you. *pokes*

E: Never in a million years. Until next chapter, dear readers!

R: Tata!