Chapter 2: The Herald's Fantastic Ass

Summary:

Bull realizes that he might like working for his new "boss," the Herald of Andraste, more than he realized, especially if his boss is out in front a lot . . . or walking away . . . or doing just about anything within eye shot.

Notes:

***Trigger Warnings for Chapter***
Magical Violence
War Violence
Blood

The Iron Bull had to admit to himself that the Herald of Andraste had a lot of style.

And a fantastic ass.

The red haired elven mage surfed onto the beach on a brilliant wave of ice, his bladed staff singing as fire blasted forth into existence around its length, and he grinned a charming smile at Bull with bright white teeth and a piercing pair of blue eyes. "You must be The Iron Bull," the Herald called over the curses, shouted insults, and death screams of wounded and furious Tevinters.

Bull decapitated a warrior who decided to stupidly charge at the flame wielding Herald. "You must be Samahl," Bull shouted back.

Samahl Lavellan smiled grimly as the two of them stood side by side, their stances deadly as the Tevinters charged across the sand. "You know my real name. I was beginning to believe it was changed to 'Herald.'" Samahl called forth a spell that made a bright shimmering light dance and ripple over Bull's pale skin. It was the telltale signs of a barrier spell. It deflected a Tevinter electricity spell. The hostile spell flowed over Bull harmlessly like water and turned the sand at his feet to glass. Samahl, in the blink of an eye, was suddenly speeding across the beach on another wave of ice to aid one of his companions, a warrior with short black hair, as a warrior charged at her. Samahl sent up another barrier of protection around her as Bull took down a Tevinter warrior who tried and failed to cut off Bull's arm as the sword bounced off the barrier.

"Chief! More coming!" Krem shouted just as a bald elven mage shouted, "Samahl! Behind!"

Without turning around to face the attackers, the Herald of Andraste slammed the end of his staff into the sand and called forth his own storm of lightning. It tore through the whole group of new arrivals, ignored friendly targets, and the smell of burnt flesh grew thick in the air along with the smell of sea and salt. Tevinters collapsed left and right, convulsing where they fell and screaming in agony before they were picked off by the crossbow bolts of a blond, beardless dwarf.

There were reasons the Qun had such a tight control over mages. This Herald was proof enough for why control was so vital. With his eyes glowing with power and his will alone shaping fire, ice, and lightning into reality from nothing, there was probably no limit to the damage Samahl Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, could do.

And Bull was really glad the guy was currently on his side.

"Chargers!" Bull called. "Stand down!" He turned to look at his second in command. "Krem. How'd we do?"

Cremisius Aclassi wiped blood off his sword on a rag. There was blood near his hairline. It wasn't his. "Five or six wounded chief. No dead."

"That's what I like to hear. Let the throatcutters finish up and then break out the casks." Krem nodded and walked off to do just that. The herald watch all this with a raised eyebrow. "So you're with the inquisition, huh?" Bull asked. "Glad you could make it. Come on, have a seat. Drinks are coming."

"You want to have drinks in the aftermath of a battle?" the Herald asked incredulously.

Bull laughed. "Better than in the middle of a battle." He motioned to one of the casks with a giant, pale hand. "This is Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. You spill it, you'll kill all the grass." Bull sat down on a boulder and motioned an arm towards Krem as the man approached. "I assume you remember Cremisius Acclasi, my lieutenant."

Krem dipped his head in a curt bow to the Herald. "Good to see you again," he murmured politely. Krem turned to Bull. "Throat cutters are done, Chief."

"Already? Have 'em check again. I don't want any of those Tevinter bastards getting away. No offense, Krem."

"None taken. Least a bastard knows who his mother was. Puts him one up on you Qunari, right?" he added with a smirk as he walked away to attend to other business.

During the conversation, the Herald had been standing with a hand propped on one hip. The pose did wonders for his hips, but Bull kept his eye firmly up. The bright red hair was a safer thing to admire on an unknown entity who might be offended by a wandering eye . . . and then Bull suppressed a grin when he noticed the Herald eyeing Bull's very exposed pectoral muscles. The elven mage tore his eyes away, pulled his hand off his hip, and stared back up into Bull's one grey eye to wait politely for him to speak.

Interesting , Bull thought. He likes what he sees. I could use that if I had to.

"So. . ." Bull began. "You've seen us fight. We're expensive, but we're worth it . . . And I'm sure the Inquisition can afford us."

"How much is this going to cost me, exactly?" the Herald asked with an eyebrow raise.

"It wouldn't cost you anything personally, unless you wanna buy drinks later. Your ambassador—what's her name—Josephine? We'd go through her and get the payments set up. Gold will take care of itself. Don't worry about that. All that matters is we're worth it."

The Herald looked at him doubtfully. "The Inquisition needs magical power to close the Breach. It doesn't need mercenaries."

Bull faked an air of hurt. "Hey! Everyone needs mercenaries." He tilted his head to the side and smirked. "But if I need to sweeten the deal . . . You need a frontline bodyguard, I'm your man." He rose to his full height. The Herald stood his ground. "Whatever it is—demons, dragons? The bigger the better." He walked a few yards away from the rest of his company, the Herald walking by his side. Then he turned to look down at Herald and came to a halt. "And there's one other thing," he added quietly. "Might be useful, might piss you off. Ever hear about the Ben-Hassrath?"

Samahl frowned. "They're a Qunari organization, right? The equivalent of their guards and city watch?"

"I'd go closer to 'spies,' but yeah, that's them. Or, well, us." The mage's eyes sharpened like daggers. Yup, he's pissed, Bull thought. In a business like tone, Bull continued. "The Ben-Hassrath are concerned about the Breach. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere. I've been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports on what's happening. But I also get reports from Ben-Hassrath agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, I'll share them with your people."

The Herald stared at him with a mixture of anger, awe, and disbelief. "You're a Qunari spy and you just . . . told me?"

"Whatever happened at that conclave thing, it's bad. Someone needs to get that Breach closed. So whatever I am, I'm on your side."

"You still could have hidden what you are."

"From something called the Inquisition?" Bull grinned. "Ha ha. I'd've been tipped sooner or later. Better you hear it right up front from me."

"What would you send home in these reports of yours?" Samahl asked suspiciously.

"Enough to keep my superiors happy. Nothing that will compromise your operations. The Qunari want to know if they need to launch an invasion to stop the whole damn world from falling apart. You let me send word of what you're doing, it'll put some minds at ease. That's good for everyone."

"What's in these Ben-Hassrath reports you're offering to share?"

"Enemy movements, suspicious activity, intriguing gossip. It's a bit of everything. Alone they're not much. But if your spymaster is worth a damn, she'll put 'em to good use."

"She?" the Herald asked with a slight tilt of his head.

Bull laughed. "I did a little research. Plus, I've got a weakness for redheads," he added with a wink of his one eye. He'll never know, Bull thought with amusement.

After a long hard look, the Herald said in a dangerous tone, "You run your reports past Leliana before sending them. You send nothing she doesn't approve. If this turns out to be a trick, or if your reports compromise the Inquisition . . ." Samahl gestured towards the short haired warrior woman who was currently having a verbal battle with the blond dwarf. She was polishing blood off her spiked shield with efficient strokes. "Cassandra will eat you alive."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Bull said. He turned to look over at the Chargers. "Krem! Tell them to finish drinking on the road. The Chargers just got hired!"

"What about the casks, Chief? We just opened them up. With axes."

"Find some way to seal them. You're Tevinter, right? Try blood magic." He glanced over his shoulder back at the Herald. "We'll meet you back at Haven."

Despite his earlier coldness, the Herald smirked. "And that Golden Scythe 4:90 Black you promised me?" he asked boldly.

Bull grinned. "You'll have to find me later for that," he said.

With another small upward tug of his lips, Herald strode away to join his companions. Bull caught sight of the slight sway of his hips and the way his blood red hair was tossed in the sea breeze.

Well, shit, Bull thought.