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Game of Sticks	By : suixcausa Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 3461 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Game of Sticks
- 1
Lavellan knew Iron Bull could dance. The man had sat in his chair with his stein along with Varric and Cullen and laughed as Josephine had attempted to teach their Inquisitor the steps for ball. Eventually the ambassador, after a great deal of long suffering and toe stomping, had given up hope on the idea of their leader being able to dance with anyone at all at the ball. It was after the group dispersed, leaving the two alone, that the Iron Bull had gotten up from his chair and taken over Lavellan's training. 'Ben-Hassrath, remember?' He had responded to Lavellan's surprised look. Not that he should have been surprised, they'd taught their spy everything from seduction to killing, why would dancing be any different?

In battle he was loose, relaxed, as natural for him to fight as it was to breathe. As he brought Lavellan's body into line with his, adjusting his posture with heavy hands and then began to run him through the steps of an entirely different dance, it was clear he was a different creature all together on the dance floor. Careful, calculated, throttling his power in a way that left Lavellan breathless to see it released.

The worry of stepping on Josephine's feet (again) nonexistent with Bull, as was the fear of appearing a fool in front of those who'd think less of him. Bull didn't care how many times he tripped, and he did, just corrected him with calloused hands on skin and moved on. It worked, and hours later Lavellan had not only learned the dances, but also what subtle mistakes would get the qunari's hands on him the most.

Bull didn't address that until he was satisfied with his Inquisitor's ability to dance. When he did however, the tension of their dance was long gone, and the Inquisitor's trouble walking the next morning was far more than simply sore feet.

The Court however, did not expect the qunari that walked out with the Inquisitor to have any idea what he was doing. There were whispers and laughs and other than light comments no one paid them any mind. When Bull gave a signal subtle enough Lavellan almost missed it, and the musicians changed the song to something decidedly stronger, there was a moment to wonder when his companion had paid off the orchestra before he was pulled into position.

Bull had been focused on teaching the last time they'd danced, and the difference was evident. From the way his hands settled at Lavellan's hips, the closeness of their bodies from the first step, it was clear that this dance was not meant to teach anyone but the nobility watching them.

"When I'm done with you, Kadan, everyone in this room will want you, and they'll be too terrified to try because they'll know they have to go through me first." A voice so low it was filled with gravel, a whisper across his ear, warm breath so distracting that he missed the first step when the music began. There was a chuckle in the crowd because Bull dragged him through the steps he missed, did not let him fall behind, the strong hands on him giving him no choice but to keep up.

The music started slow, their steps strong and easy to follow. Somehow, the people in the crowd began to fade away because Bull's body, his breath, his closeness was far more distracting than they ever could be. They did not waltz, it was not the dance of a ballroom though it mimicked it in ways obvious enough for it to be familiar to those watching. It was qunari, Lavellan was sure, but he did not know where in the Qun's society one might dance like this. Ben-Hassrath perhaps training their agents to be able to seduce nobility on the dance floor?

Bull's hand's moved constantly as he guided their dance, at a hip for a side step, taking hands for a spin, across his back for a dip. As a dancer, he was hyper sensitive to the contact, keeping in step to be rewarded by more touching almost a larger motive than not making a fool of himself in front of the Orlesian court. As a spectator, the touches were subtle enough to bring interest, fascination in what they were witnessing. The Inquisitor being undone.

They had drawn a great deal of the crowd's attention, not that Lavellan was aware at that point. His focus on his partner just as revealing to the spectator's intrigue as their dance. Iron Bull had been a spectacle in their midst, a statute to look intimidating, a trinket of the power and reach of the Inquisition but nothing more. Now, he was the only other person to have a dance with the Inquisitor besides the Grand Duchess. Her dance had clearly been the Game at work. This? The Inquisitor was open and honest as he danced, the way he followed through the fierce steps of the dance as it picked up incredibly telling.

Was he this in sync with all his team? So trusting of his inner circle that they were permitted to see this side of him? Surely the qunari was not the only one...

Lavallen felt what Iron Bull was so expertly hiding from the nobles. Easy for the stern faced qunari to look unphased even as he subtly exposed his Inquisitor's grace and poise to those who had not previously noticed. Easy to look like he was unaffected by the sexuality of the elf he was so close to, as if the way their bodies brushed against each other as they danced was not making him mad with desire. The Court's eyes were on the inquisitor, who was far too caught up in the thrall of the qunari to notice the Game still at work.

It was being played by someone who detested it, by someone not working for himself. The Game in Bull's hands was like a curious imp of a child lighting a ladies skirts afire to see what would happen. He wanted these nobles to see past their bias of an elf, their distrust of a mage, their reverence of the Herald of Andraste, and their fear of the leader of the Inquisition. A simple dance, to make everyone wonder at how they had missed the honest innocence of Lavellan's sexuality.

When the steps grew faster, their turns tighter, their bodies were brought together, and Lavellan's hands began to stray across Bull's sides for anchor as they danced. "Maker, they're playing faster." He breathed in a rush with a grin as the music began to speed.

"Started slower, thought I couldn't dance." Bull answered with a rough chuckle, "It'll get faster." Lavellan took it as a warning, concentrating on the pattern of steps that stayed the same no matter how Bull lead them across the floor. If he kept them down and followed, he would be fine, he knew this.

Palm to palm they circled each other quickly, their height difference causing Lavellan to raise on his toes just to bring his lips closer to the qunari's jaw. This was noticed by their rapt spectator's who were now alight with low toned conversation. The Inquisitor's new found sexuality the delight of both men and women as they speculated. It must be men he favored, look at how he follows. He must value strength above curves and dresses. How does the qunari not realize the Inquisitor's attentions?

The music drew to a peak, and when Bull lead him into a dip, Lavellan relaxed into it completely, their bodies pressed together tightly, and despite all his attempts to keep it together, Lavellan let out a soft moan that could only be heard by Bull over the music. The music picked up speed yet again, and Lavellan prayed it was in its final chord because his feet would not move faster without tripping him and even Bull would not be able to smooth that failure. Is the qunari made of stone to not take what the Inquisitor is offering? Has no one claimed him at all?

Bull's hands were finding their way under his jacket as they poured themselves into the final round, their bodies pressed together by what could be blamed simply on the gravity of their dance's turns, or more realistically, Lavellan's need to rely on Iron Bull's movements to keep up. He was swept up in the heat and movement of their bodies, the closeness and the hands under his jacket across the thin soft cloth of his tunic. Consumed by the dance, victim to the thrall as much as the spectator's were as their whispering increased.

The orchestra was at its finest, they missed no note even as the song crashed together in speed, challenging their dancers to keep up. Iron Bull pulled them into a spin as the notes reached their peak, and Lavellan found himself on his toes not just to help the spin, but straining for affections, lost so completely all he wished was to press his lips to the throat of the qunari dancing with him. In the final round of their spin, with a surprisingly graceful strength, Bull lifted the Inquisitor just enough his feet left the ground, just enough height gained that the elf could press his lips to a stubbled jaw, and for a brief moment he smiled in contentment before he was back on the ground, out of their spin for the final few steps.

The crowd exploded in whispers, Did you see that? No, no, it was all too fast. The qunari was still unaffected, though the Inquisitor clearly wasn't, surely it meant something.

And when the music crashed to its final halt, Bull dipped the Inquisitor low in a classic ballroom sweep, and the crowd burst into applause and cheers. They held for several long moments, faces only inches apart, chests heaving with the exertion of the dance as they regained their breath. Then, amongst all the talk and loud conversation, Bull leaned down took his prize in the form of a chaste and gentle kiss.

Voices exploded, whispers and loud conversation alike, but it was the Inquisitor's response, a hand around the qunari's neck, a deepening of the kiss to something that could not be mistranslated in any culture before they finally broke away, the clear look exchanged, that gave the Game away. The soft approving whisper of 'Kadan' that gave Lavellan all the approval he needed was missed by their greedy ears.

They'd been played. They'd been presented with something tantalizing, they'd been made to not only long for it, but think it was available for the taking. And then just as easily, it'd been taken just out of reach with a simple kiss. Better yet, the qunari had proved to everyone there that any advances were not unwarranted, indeed much of the conversation was Good, they fit like a glove. An Orlesian court, cheering for a qunari's advances towards an elf.

Scandalous. The word was being used in all the right ways, and as they departed the dance floor arm in arm, they passed Josephine in the hall. Her cheeks were flushed and when she grinned at them it was all the polite amounts of lecherous. Bull had dumped yet more pieces of the Game in her lap, but so expertly coordinated it could be used so easily to promote all the right agendas.

Oblivious to it all but was Lavellan, practically glowing with energy, blindly following where Bull guided him in hopes it would be somewhere quiet with just the two of them. His hands strayed to Bull's arm and side continually with casual contact, craving touch. He was done with the Court and all its games, he was hoping for something far more intimate to occupy the rest of his evening.

He was offered a room in the Royal Apartments to spend the night by the empress' ladies in waiting. They gave knowing and expecting looks in Bull's direction, but they were not shared by the stern qunari who seemed once again to be impervious to the inviting energies of the elf he lingered near. More fuel for the fire, more gossip and whispers. Was it all an act? Was the qunari simply teasing them? Was the Inquisitor truly claimed? Who would be brave enough to find out?

The subtleties weren't unappreciated by the court, but they were lost on the elven mage as they exited to the Gardens and began to walk away from the crowds and the people. There was an excited sort of energy to his step, fully renewed after the strain of the majority of the evening.

"That was amazing." He finally said when they were out of ear shot. He didn't know what The Iron Bull's motivations were, but he had managed to keep himself in check until they were alone, or as alone as one could get in the Winter Palace where eyes were on you at all times. "I can't believe you kissed me in front of everyone!" He said, looking inquisitively at his qunari partner.

Bull just gave him a glance from his good eye before looking ahead of them again, very careful as he lead them through the gardens where they had been fighting for their lives only hours previously. "Like you made it possible to resist." He grumbled, "You should have seen yourself."

Lavellan seemed to think on this for a moment, before he suddenly put a hand to his mouth in horror. Putting together how caught up he'd been, how wanton he must have seemed to the uptight nobility of Orlais. "Oh god, they're going to lynch me." He concluded. "Not just an elf, but an elf kissing a qunari. Josephine is going to kill me if the Court doesn't." He moaned, beginning to panic already at the thought. "Will they withdraw the alliance? Maker, I--"

"Relax." Iron Bull chided with an easy laugh, drawing a hand to the elf's neck, tucking fingers under his collar. "That's the last thing on their minds right now. Remember what I told you?"

Lavellan had to think on this a moment, before flushing. Everyone in this room will want you, and they'll be too terrified to try because they'll know they have to go through me first. "You did it all on purpose! You...!" He accused, whirling on his companion to stand in front of him and stop him from walking, not that it worked because Iron Bull just continued to walk and Lavellan was forced to start walking backwards.

"You wanted me to dance with you, I wanted to dance with you, we danced." Bull said simply. "You just saved their empress, you just put dating qunari into style." He grinned and waggled his brow. "Better treat me good Boss, I got options now."

"Oh...for makers sake!" Lavellan said with defeated toss of his hands. "I give up." He said before returning to Bull's side. "Just take me to these apartments and make it all up to me." He said with an air of authority, as if it was an order that would meet any sort of resistance.

"If you insist, Boss." Bull drawled with a smirk.

Lavellan's cheeks were flushed as he walked, flustered and having a difficult time processing anything witty to come back at Bull with. Eventually he gave up, changing his step to walk closer to the qunari and slip his hand into the bigger man's. "I'm glad you kissed me." He admitted quietly, resting his head against Bull's bulky arm. "It's nice that you don't want to hide us from everyone. Like you're proud."

Bull gave him a serious look from the corner of his good eye, before squeezing Lavellan's hand, almost painfully tight. "Yeah well, don't let it go to your head." He said gruffly, and Lavellan looked up at him with a curious sort of look. Always hard to get a read on his Iron Bull, he simply wasn't trained for this type of thing. There had to be something more, but pushing would just lead him in circles, so he let it rest.

Thoughts were pushed from his mind however when he saw an Orlesian guard standing next to three horses on the cobblestone ahead of them. He looked around, and realized that they were actually on the edge of the gardens, very near the exit of the palace. "I thought we were going to the apartments?" He asked, tilting his head.

"I've seen a few too many assassins jumping across balconies and windows tonight to feel the least bit safe sleeping in this place." Bull said with a grunt, approaching the horses easily. The guard wore a full helmet, but didn't seem to be the least bit bothered as Bull took the reins for the large warhorse he rode. A gift from Lavellan, a mount that could actually carry the qunari for long periods of time. "I already arranged us a safe place to spend the night." He said as mounted his horse, looking down at the elf that was receiving his own horse from the guard.

He was impressive, in full regalia, atop his horse, horns an eerie silhouette against the moonlight, inviting and intimidating all at the same time. Lavellan sighed but hopped up on his sleeker horse next to him.

"Good to go Krem?" Bull asked, and Lavellan twisted on his mount in surprise as the soldier behind them nodded. Krem waved lightly before guiding his horse to begin a canter down the path towards the gate. Bull met the Inquisitor's look of amused surprise with a positively wolfish grin, before tapping his heels and taking off without a word, expecting the Inquisitor to follow.

Of course, he did.

---
The inn they arrived at wasn't the type of cloak and dagger affair that Lavellan expected. Somehow Bull leading them to a tavern in the woods filled with shifty and shady characters had made more sense than the high class inn that they arrived at. Bull and Krem had already dismounted and handed off their horses to the stable hand waiting for them.
The looks they got were a mixture of surprise and awe, and Lavellan sighed as he walked inside, followed closely by Bull. Anonymity was something he found himself missing terribly. To his surprise, the Chargers were sprawled out inside the tavern as they entered, and the catcalls that followed their leader in his formal regalia couldn't help but put a smile on Lavellan's face.
"Boss! Aren't you the belle of the ball! Did you meet your prince charming?"
"Course he did, idgit! The Inquisitor is right there!"
"Well Andraste's tits! It is you! Looking flashy Inquisitor!"
Lavellan gave a little bow, unable to help the chuckle as Bull snorted. "You lot better bask in my glory right now, because I'm quite positive I'm never putting this shit on again." He said, only to earn a few more cackles from his group.
"Aye, but you should have seen him dancing with our dear Inquisitor." Krem said with a grin as he tossed the helmet he'd pried off and thumped down in a seat next to his companions. "That Court is going to be shitting itself for weeks."
"Oi! You say they danced?"
"It was a sight to see! And after they kissed and it was --"
"Holy hell! They kissed in front of the Court?!"
"Alright, we're done." Iron Bull announced loudly, a hand on Lavellan's shoulder steering him down the halls towards the rooms that were apparently already taken care of. Some wolf whistles followed them, and Lavellan couldn't help but wonder how long it would take until the Chargers were kicked out of the establishment.
"So you had this room all picked out ahead of time or something?" Lavellan asked as he was lead into their room, finally relaxing enough to start digging at the too tight collar of his jacket. "Knew how this was all going to play out, did you?"
"It's Orlais. I've worked here enough to know how it goes." Bull grunted before following the Inquisitor's suit and clawing off the formal wear. "I figured it would be a mess. And I figured I'd want you some place safe, and all alone with me, afterwards."
Lavellan blushed as his head popped up from where he was wrestling with the buckles of his jacket. "D-did you now?"
"Yeah." Bull said easily, turning his head to look at him square with his single eye. "Besides, I know you. Was I supposed to think you'd want to spend more time than necessary in the Winter Palace?"
Lavellan shrugged his agreement at that, before Bull tossed his jacket alongside where Lavellan's had fallen. "I'm going to go get something to eat. Clean up and relax a bit. Okay?"
"Eat?" Lavellan asked with a laugh. "I thought you'd done nothing but eat at the ball?"
"That food? You'd have to sit and eat for days before you'd ever get full on that food." The qunari said, waving a hand in the Inquisitor's direction. "Besides, I might share. How much did you even eat?"
"Well, you tried to feed me that magma-fire nut thing that nearly killed me. Does that count?"
"No. You spit most of that out almost as fast as it went down. Hilarious, though." Iron Bull said with a snicker before heading towards the door. "I'll get something good. No fire nuts, promise."
Lavellan sighed when his companion left, clawing off the tunic he wore, leaving himself in nothing but pants after kicking off his boots. Bare feet he definitely preferred, but walking barefoot into unknown places was foolish. He was wearing boots so often now his feet had lost most of their callous anyways. Sad, soon he'd be nothing but a scrawny human with pointy ears, he was sure of it.
He found the water basin, washed himself, then stoked a fire in the fireplace before settling down in front of it. He looked about the room, admired the thick carpet that was in the sitting room, squishy between his toes and comfortable to sit upon. The bed was a centerpiece, a huge four poster thing, big enough for two or three Iron Bulls. He flushed, thinking about what would probably happen in that bed soon, and did his best to try and put his mind elsewhere so he wasn't a mess before Bull even got back to the room.
There was a lot to worry about, however, and he was immediately lost in thought, so many things cycling through his mind. The Winter Palace was one success, but there were other challenges ahead of them. He wouldn't even have to make it back to Skyhold to start giving orders or solve another crisis of some sort again. He rubbed his temples to stave off a headache at the thought.
The politics were bad. The rest, hunting down bad guys, putting his life in danger, he could handle. But this kind of thing was so far out of his element that he was completely exhausted. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before Iron Bull returned, but he got to his feet to help the man put down the trays of food he had brought.
Iron Bull shared bits of gossip and information that the Chargers had collected for them, spoke of the coin they had made doing a few jobs for old contacts while they were here. It was light banter while Lavellan ate, and the elf recognized it as such, even if he wasn't really focusing on the qunari's words.
Instead, he focused on his companion. The Iron Bull was something so simple at first. Watching him eat, talk, move around, everything about it presented him as a simple soldier, a warrior. If you spent any time getting to know him however, you learned there was so much more than that hidden underneath. Even now, Lavellan felt like he was in over his head. The qunari's understanding of him seemed almost absolute sometimes, like there wasn't a thing he could do that the other man hadn't already seen coming.
Power was something constantly traded between them. He understood that mechanic easily enough. Submitting to the man behind closed doors was not something Lavellan struggled with on any level, it came naturally the moment the qunari put his hands on him.
The power he held as Inquisitor out of the bedroom was absolute, it wasn't something he could fully manage in any way. He had reliable people to help him with it though, advisors, agents, companions. Even outside of the bedroom, The Iron Bull was a constant anchor to stop him from going over his head.
Power was not his problem, in either lack or abuse thereof. But there was a constant gnawing in the back of his mind, a worry. He wanted to understand his companion better, but this whole reading people thing just wasn't something that could be mastered quickly. He had been no good at it in his clan, and he was no better now. Thank god he had a spymaster for such things or else the Inquisition would be lost.
"You know, Kadan. If you want to know something, you just gotta ask. Trying to drill through my skull with those unnervingly intense eyes of yours might not be the most effective way. Unless you've learned some new magic I'm unaware of." The qunari drawled, turning his horned head to see Lavellan clearer. Crap. Should have thought about what side he was sitting at before staring at Iron Bull if he wanted to get away with it.
"My eyes are neither unnerving nor intense." Lavellan announced, pushing away the rest of his food to stand and walk in front of the qunari. A mixture of the warmth of the fire at his back and the solid gaze Iron Bull fixed on him heated him quickly. This had to be the longest they'd been in a room alone together without Bull pinning him to some kind of flat surface.
"Says you. You've never been stared at with 'em though. All big and so green they practically glow. You sure you can't use your eyes like the mark on your hand? Green beams of light shooting out of them would not be surprising." There was laughter in the qunari's voice, and even as he spoke he adjusted his body and patted his knee as invitation.
Lavellan straddled the offered knee easily, settling into his companion's lap and squirming around a few moments to get comfortable, careful of bony knees and elbows that could draw complaints if jabbed into tender places.
"So like I said. If you wanted to know something, you just gotta ask."
Lavellan studied Iron Bull's face, tried to get a read, failed, and gave up with a sigh. "You say that. But then if you decide you don't want to answer the question, you'll talk me in circles until I get tired of running into a brick wall."
Bull seemed to consider that for a moment before he shrugged, slouching in his chair to rest the side of his face in his palm, one elbow propped on the arm of the chair, the other hand snaking itself around the Inquisitor, pulling him closer. "That does sound like something I'd do." He admitted. When Lavellan leveled a pointed look at him, The Iron Bull sighed, surrendering. "Why don't you ask the question, Kadan, instead of deciding my answer for me."
Lavellan studied him further, a furrow between his brows before he finally sighed, leaning forward in Bull's lap to rest his head on a massive chest. "In the gardens, I told you I was glad you kissed me." He paused for a moment when Bull gave no response at all. "You were going to say something else, but you didn't."
When Lavellan fell quiet, hoping the qunari would pipe in, Bull gave him an innocently blank expression. "That wasn't a question."
"Maker!" Lavellan groaned, trying to push himself off of the warrior's lap. "I knew you'd--" He was cut off by a bark of laughter, and Iron Bull pulled him close, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him in place.
"I was joking, I was joking." He said while he composed himself, releasing Lavellan when he stopped struggling, eye practically sparkling with mischievousness as he watched the elf smooth his hair while shooting him a look that was only half-heartedly chastising.
"I know this night has been trying for you, Kadan. But where is this coming from? Why are you so focused on what I did not say?"
Lavellan frowned, now feeling awkward because he didn't have a good handle on that himself. "I don't know." He finally sighed out, running his hands through his hair in something akin to nerves. "Let's just forget it. I'm sure if you tie me down and do me really good tonight, I'll be fixed."
Bull chuckled, lifted a hand to cup the side of his Inquisitor's face, the move so careful and gentle that it caught Lavellan off guard. "Sometimes it's best to talk things through."
"Isn't that what I said to you when you wanted me to beat you with a stick?" Lavellan sighed, unable to hide a small smile at the memory. "And then you said that was stupid and convinced me to hit you anyway."
"You are not Qunari." Iron Bull said seriously, despite Lavellan's humor, using the hand on the side of Lavellan's face to draw them eyes to eye. "You are not me. We need different things." After a pause, Lavellan quiet and open, Bull continued. "So you want to know what I didn't say?"
Lavellan nodded slowly, and Bull gave him a grim sort of smile. "I was going to ask you, why you would ever think that I wasn't proud of you. Then I came to the conclusion that it might be something on my end, and decided I would look into fixing it. If my plan failed, I would have asked you why later."
Lavellan frowned, unsure of how to answer that. "You...had a plan? What was it?"
Iron Bull blinked, like the answer was obvious. "I was going to tell you I was proud of you at opportune times. It seemed like the best way to handle it."
Lavellan couldn't help but laugh then, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Bull's, nose to nose. "It's straightforward enough, I suppose."
Bull sighed, carefully twining big fingers through Lavellan's hair and cupping his palm across the back of the elf's neck, something that nearly got him a purr in response. "It is. But I'll ask you now, anyways. Why do you feel that I am not proud of you?"
"I don't mean proud like, 'I'm proud of you phasing into that dragon's foot and exploding it so it didn't bite my horn off that one time'. I don't mean, of me. Well maybe I do, but more...of us?" Bull's look was questioning, and Lavellan sighed, fumbling with words as he continued. "People are always talking about their relationships around us. People know we're a couple, but whenever someone asks you about it, you always stay quiet. You practically strangled Cole the first time he spouted off something."
Iron Bull opened his mouth to speak, but Lavellan frowned, reaching forward to press a small kiss on his lips to silence him. "Just let me talk this out, okay?" Because he was starting to figure it out a little himself. "People brag about their lovers all the time, and you don't. And I guess sometimes I wonder if I'm enough for you."
"Enough for me?" Bull interrupted despite himself, absolute wonder in his tone. "You're the Inquisitor. How could you not be enough?"
"Because you're you." Lavellan groaned, running his hands through his hair again, feeling Bull's fingers still twined there and stopping to squeeze them for a moment. "Me being the Inquisitor means nothing to you. It does," He added quickly when Iron Bull opened his mouth to disagree, "It matters. But it's not something that has any value like this. When we're alone together, when we're just us and not the Inquisition. You're a qunari that could tear down a brick wall with his bare hands, and then figure out how to put it back together, stronger this time. Or worse, you could manipulate some random person off the street into wanting to rebuild it for you."
"Clearly I should have been a stonemason. The Tamassarans had me pegged all wrong." Iron Bull said with a light laugh, and Lavellan couldn't help but chuckle.
"Alright, bad example. But don't you get it? You're way more than just a qunari, or a warrior, or a spy, or anything. You're you. There's so much more to you than meets the eye. You're so complex I don't think I could spend my entire life with you and ever fully understand you. And then, there's me. I'm the Inquisitor. I have a mark on my hand, because I happened to stumble through the wrong door at the wrong time. Or the right time, whatever." He was exasperated, frazzled, frustrated as he spoke, like some glorious knot trying to untangle itself and only making it worse in the process.
"I have this big title, I have this mark on my hand. I have more shit going on than most people could ever keep up with, and you deal with it so well. But underneath all that? I'm just an elf. There's nothing special there. There's no big puzzle. What you see is what you get. I don't want to think about not being at your side, but eventually you'll get bored. Eventually the world won't be ending, I won't be the hero, and you'll be wondering what you're doing with an elf someone dragged out of the woods."
When he was finished with his outburst he slumped where he was sitting, going over it again and realizing how stupid, how petty he sounded. Hell, how much he was assuming, because as close as they were now, it was quite possible Iron Bull wasn't making long term plans at all. He looked away, anywhere but at his lover, and despaired.
"Do you feel better now?" Bull asked quietly.
"No." Lavellan said glumly.
Bull's fingers found his chin, forced him to look upwards and meet his gaze again, despite Lavellan's reluctance. "This is why, I prefer the stick." He said with a soft voice, and the inquisitor offered a weak smile in return despite himself. Iron Bull drew him in, dipped his head, and pressed a kiss to his lips. It wasn't a chaste one by any means, slow and deep. Lavellan moaned as he opened his mouth, breathless as he was overwhelmed. Bull was eager to explore, thick tongue making short work of claiming the elf's mouth, before Lavellan began to respond in earnest, suckling and worshipping Bull's mouth with his own.
It was assurance without words, it was enough to push back the misery Lavellan had inflicted on himself and completely negate the hopelessness. When Iron Bull finally released his mouth, Lavellan's lips were swollen as he panted for breath, at some point his hands had found their way to Bull's horns to keep himself anchored.
"We will mix the two, I think. Talking, and the stick." Bull said after a moment, his own breath short and quick, and Lavellan could see him wrestling for control, could feel it in the way fingers flexed across his hips where Bull was holding him. "There's a bag under the bed. Get the ropes coiled in it. Don't dig through the rest." He said firmly, before releasing Lavellan and letting the elf hop into action, despite the sudden case of rubber legs that was afflicting him.
The bag had interesting things in it besides the ropes, the inquisitor was sure, but it was separated with a dark cloth, and that was enough to remind him of what he wasn't supposed to do. In his fingers the rope clearly wasn't the kind he was used to, and he touched it with surprise. It was crimson red, soft, flowed almost like water, and he was suddenly even more interested in feeling it against his skin.
His cheeks were flushed with color as he returned to Iron Bull, but he didn't have to know how to read the qunari to understand how deep in thought his lover was. He held out the coils of rope instead of interrupting with words, and Bull accepted them easily, taking the largest coil and beginning to unwind it, running it through his hands with an approving grunt.
"Strip. Then back on my knee, facing me. This is going to take some time."
At some point, Lavellan had stopped being self conscious, despite the almost crippling shyness that he had experienced their first time. At some point he had figured out that stripping himself, undressing on his own terms, was far better than having his clothes literally ripped off of him by an impatient qunari who didn't care the slightest about broken buttons and ripped laces.
He could feel Bull's eyes on him as he wiggled out of his pants, putting on a show. Heard the growl when he took a moment to flex his surely unimpressive muscles, and pooled into Bull's lap with all the grace he could muster. It wasn't unappreciated, and Bull pulled him close to press rough lips across his neck, suckling pale skin there for several long moments, enough to leave marks in multiple places across collar bones before he pulled away.
He had control, Lavellan knew that well. So when Bull released him to pick up the rope instead, looping it behind the elf's neck to begin his work, the Inquisitor did not bother trying to tempt his lover, instead stilling so as to make it easier. He understood how complex rope work could be, and whatever Bull had in mind, it was something different than usual.
"You say that you are nothing special, but I couldn't disagree more." Bull began slowly, his attention still focused on the series of knots he was tying down the length of rope across Lavellan's torso. "Do you remember the first time I met you?"
Lavellan's eyes had fluttered closed, trying hard not to press against the knuckles and hands that were ghosting across him as Bull worked with the ropes. Talking was going to be difficult when he was so completely distracted, but Bull had rules once rope was involved. Answer all questions immediately and truthfully. This wasn't quite their usual application, but it still helped him focus to imagine Bull being displeased. "Storm Coast. A dragon flew overhead shortly before. Was about to approach you, but we spotted the Vints at the same time."
"I'd done my research before I ever sent Krem. I knew you were a dalish elf, I knew you were a mage. I'd seen some crude sketch ups, I had a picture in my head before I met you. And when I saw you, you didn't fit it at all. I was surprised."
"Bad sketches? Did they draw my ears too big? They always exaggerate the ears."
"It wasn't your ears." Bull said with a laugh, double checking the number of knots before he draped another coil of rope around Lavellan's neck. This time he began to carefully tie knots into a thick rope collar, checking tightness with a fingers width to make sure it was loose. The elf's eyes were still closed, blissful under the attention, completely trusting. Whatever they were doing, his neck was going to need more support than usual.
"I'd expected this grizzled bony dalish thing. Someone who an explosion sucked in, and a rift spit back out. Instead..." Bull trailed off for a moment, spinning the rope collar around and dropping the ends of it down Lavellan's back. It was like silk as it slid down his skin, and the elf struggled not to squirm. "Instead...you looked like the kind of elf a Vint would keep locked in his bedroom. Something that should be pampered and lusted for." Lavellan cracked open an eye to give Bull a look to assure him how distasteful he found that idea, and Bull snorted and flicked his nose gently before returning to the rope he was now binding around his Inquisitor's chest.
"I was almost disappointed. Like somehow it had evaded all my reports that you were only dangerous in theory. And then," He laughed at the memory. "And then a Vint shot an arrow at you, and you turned around and exploded his ass into this massive fireball." Bull was grinning from ear to ear now as he worked, and Lavellan couldn't help but grin himself. "Then you teleported into the middle of their group, and everyone was on fire before they could even figure out what was going on. You were using your spirit sword, you were phasing into people to blow them up, and I was watching you thinking of all the groveling I was willing to do to get you to hire me after that."
Lavellan sighed as fingers stroked down his neck, Bull taking a slight break from his work to enjoy the feeling of smooth skin under his hands. There was pronounced fondness in such a violent memory, and it was so Iron Bull that the Inquisitor couldn't help but chuckle.
"And here I was, being intimidated as hell when you sauntered up after we were done with them."
Iron Bull grinned, double checking the knots along Lavellan's sides that were holding the web of ropes together now. "You're more than you look, too. You're not just a sexy elf with a fantastic ass. You're not just a mage that fights like he hasn't yet figured out he's not a warrior. You have so much heart, and so much soul. You inspire people just by being around them. People would jump all over themselves to tear that stupid brick wall down for you before you could even decide on what way you wanted to explode it yourself. You don't see any of that when you look at yourself, or else you'd never feel like I could ever be anything but proud of being at your side."
Lavellan's eyes were blurring and he was doing his best not to show just how hard Bull's words were hitting him, unwilling to show weakness, but when Bull tugged him close by the soft ropes at his throat to draw him into a kiss, he couldn't help but release a shaky breath. All his stress, his worries, both personal and about the responsibilities ahead of him just faded away, and he sighed happily when Bull eventually pulled away.
"And I'll be damned if you're ever gonna get me to repeat that. We're all fucked if you get an ego while you're running the world." Iron Bull grinned, and the Inquisitor couldn't help but laugh. "So just remember all that, okay? Now stand up and turn around. Arms back."
The position was familiar enough, arms wrist to elbow locked behind his back. When they were tied in place, Bull moved on to wrapping rope around his hips and thighs, hands ghosting everywhere except where Lavellan wanted them most, painfully excited as he was.
"I would love to brag about you. I would love, to push you down and make you mine where everyone could see." Iron Bull hissed into a pointed ear before kissing it roughly, then smoothing calloused hands down lean legs. "Kneel. Legs spread." Iron Bull sank from his chair to kneel behind the Inquisitor, and soon the ropes at the tops of his thighs were attached to loops at his ankles, keeping his legs bent tightly together. As he worked, Bull spoke.
"If I were to treat you like any other lover, if I were to brag about us, what we do, every person in this damn continent that wanted dirt on you would have it. I guarantee that some of your allies are uptight assholes that would go running to hide under their mother's skirts if they thought the Herald of Andraste was in the middle of getting tied up by a qunari for the purpose of exceptionally good sex."
Lavellan moaned when Bull's fingers slid across his ass as he said this, squeezing it suggestively before changing purpose to help tip the elf over, laying him forward into the plush carpet that was positively teasing against his very excited skin. "You understand that part. It's beyond what the two of us feel."
"I have to lead everyone." Lavellan whimpered as his cheek pressed into the carpet. The ropework was nearly complete, and he now understood the position it was keeping him in. His legs were spread wide, securely anchored, unable to move. His arms were snug and he practically shivered as Bull checked all the knots. "I have to be a powerful figurehead to everyone, including people who don't understand this." He managed to focus enough to get that out, but focus was as hard to come by as movement was.
"Right." Iron Bull growled, before taking a moment to admire his handiwork, adjusting ropes that he thought were too tight or might be pinching. "Now. Do you feel better?"
"Yesss." Lavellan sighed out, squirming in his binds, testing them and letting out a soft little moan when it proved absolutely futile. "Please Bull. I want the stick now." He managed to laugh despite the arousal, and Iron Bull laughed as he straightened up, slapping the elf's exposed ass.
"Don't worry about that, Kadan. You'll be getting all of it soon." Before Lavellan could respond in any way, he was suddenly being lifted off the ground. He then understood the ropes that were adding so much support from his shoulders and hips were meant to bear the weight of his body. For the short trip to the bed, Bull snaked an arm underneath him to carry him, before dropping him into the soft covers with little ceremony.
There was a soft squeaking of a wheel of some kind above him as Iron Bull adjusted hardware, and Lavellan smiled into the blanket as he squirmed against it, gaining a little friction before he earned a distracted grunt and another slap on his ass.
"Don't you go getting started without me, Kadan. You'll regret it."
Lavellan moaned at the threat, resisted squirming again before he focused on words as Iron Bull began to attach his rope harness to god knows what above him. "Did you have to pay extra for them to renovate for us?" He asked with some amusement, and Bull snorted.
"You'd be amazed at the hardware hidden in this room." He said, before he took a step backwards, feeding rope through a pulley Lavellan could only barely see out of the corner of his eye. "This is the favorite room of a noble the Chargers have done some work for. She paid for the renovations. I just called in a favor."
And then in a sudden flourish of movement, Bull hauled down on the rope through the pulley, and up came Lavellan with a surprised yelp, suspended a couple of feet above the bed.
"Ha! Perfect." Iron Bull declared, tying the rope off to a post before once again double checking ropes. His patience wasn't shared by Lavellan, who wasn't able to stop himself from squirming now. "Any pinches? Anything too tight?"
"Right foot is kind of going to sleep." Lavellan huffed after a moment, "A few hairs are pulling from one of the ropes on my neck and I feel a bit of a pinch on my inner thigh." All of which he would be perfectly content with dealing with if Bull would just touch him, but the qunari was careful. Always careful. When the adjustments were made and double checked, Bull made the final touch.
The ropes around his neck were drawn backwards by their lead, pulling his head up, forcing him to keep it straight instead of letting his head hang downwards. The final result was him being unable to look anywhere but straight ahead, unable to move, no friction available anywhere he wanted. He was harder than ever, desperate to be touched.
He heard the rustling of clothing behind him, the telltale sound of Bull's belt and pants hitting the ground. More rustling, and this time wondering until he heard the soft thud of several things being tossed on the bed beneath him. No matter how he squirmed and strained, the ropes would not allow him to lower his head or look down, and he whined in frustration.
"Remember all the rules Kadan?"
"Oh for fucks sake, yes!" He moaned, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly against his back.
"And they are...?" Bull prompted, his voice dripping with amusement, and the elf practically shouted them in frustration.
"Answer questions immediately and truthfully."
"I should add with a lot less sass to that rule or something someday." Bull commented lightly, while he made promising little sounds of movement. Lavellan was sure he heard a cork unpop from a vial, and he shivered in anticipation, swallowing back a moan so he could continue.
"Don't come without asking permission first." He trembled when a hand settled upon his lower back, sliding downwards to run two thick fingers down the crease of his ass to circle his entrance. They were slick with oil, and that did draw a moan out of him. "Rule doesn't apply when you're inside of me." His voice gave out when a thick finger penetrated him, pressing in, giving him moments to adjust before shallowly thrusting in and out of him.
"Last one?" Bull's voice was rough now. He was ready to be done with the formalities too.
"I can use absolutely no magic. 'That's cheating.'" He mumbled trying to push back against the finger inside of him and finding himself unable to get any kind of momentum at all. Oh, this was torture. "My watchword is Katoh." He added quietly afterwards, because he knew that was always the last question before they began.
"Yes." Iron Bull hissed, the word breaking down into a satisfied hiss. "You've got twenty six points against you, Kadan." He said easily, even as he added another finger, pressing the two of them deep, stretching the elf enough to make him squirm, even as he thrashed in surprise.
"Twenty six?! For what?" He shouted. It was a simple point system, a tally Bull kept. Points were earned for all sorts of things, mostly teasing him when he was unable to react or being an insufferable flirt. There were other ways surely, but Lavellan had only seemed to earn them for inflicting blue balls on his lover.
Three or four points by the end of the day was normal. Usually they were the indicator of the intensity of the session, the number of strokes with a flogger or crop, or the number of times he would be brought to the edge of orgasm and then denied. The highest he'd ever earned previously was ten, and that had been for his very reckless eating of a banana that Iron Bull had requisitioned from Par Vollen for him to try.
"You think I wasn't counting for that dance? And the make out on the balcony before the dance? And when you pranced around in front of me eating food out of my hand?"
"Shit." Lavellan hissed. Hard to come up with anything more eloquent when Bull started rubbing that spot inside of him mercilessly as he tried to speak, everything that left his mouth after that were little cries of pleasure.
"You're lucky you look so damn good in this rope. I'll cap you at twenty. Just because I'm nice."
"Thank you Bull." Lavellan managed to pant out, each word a struggle. "Please..."
He didn't know what he was asking for anymore. He wanted Bull to keep thrusting his fingers against that spot inside of him that was making his cock jerk and leak. He wanted him to replace it with something far more satisfying. He wanted Bull to come inside of him. He wanted everything and he didn't know where to begin in asking for it.
Iron Bull seemed to have his own ideas, however. He slipped his fingers out but shortly after something made of smooth metal, cool and slick pressed against his entrance instead. "You're going to love this. Or hate it. Or both." Bull said with a happy tone as he began to press it inside.
It was a plug of some kind, not something unfamiliar, but larger than what he was used to. That meant Bull intended to use him hard tonight, and wanted him stretched beforehand. All this raced through Lavellan's head as he moaned helplessly. When it was fully seated he felt full, legs pulled too far apart by the ropes to protest its presence in any way.
He felt Iron Bull's lips across the sensitive skin of his ass, a soft kiss followed by a sharp catch of teeth while Bull slowly moved the plug around inside his lover, chuckling at the desperate mewling he invoked. As Lavellan adjusted to the thickness of the thing inside him, Bull became more aggressive in thrusting it, leaving the mage breathless and desperate as he tried to maintain some semblance of control.
All that control left him in a sudden rush when a low current of electricity ripped through him. It came as such as surprise he yelled, bucked in the ropes. There was a pause, leaving Lavellan confused and disoriented with a "What the--" at his lips, before it was cut off by another pulse of electricity.
"Oh fuck, that's hot." Iron Bull moaned, hands on Lavellan's hips as he watched the elf twitch and jolt every time a pulse went through him.
"What--" Was all he managed to get out before the next pulse that left him garbling his sentence into a loud moan.
"It's a very tiny lightning rune in the base of this. Activate it and..." Lavellan shouted with the next pulse, and Iron Bull's smugness was more than audible. "That."
"I can't...oh fuck!" Lavellan shouted, his body covered in sweat as he struggled against his binds, trying to do something, anything to escape the next pulse. It wasn't pain. It would be so much easier if it was pain. Instead it was something far harder to pin down. Such a jolt of intense feeling that lit him up inside every time, went straight through to his dick and made it jump with every pulse. Each one brought him painfully close to orgasm, and he shouted against the strain of it. "I'm gonna die!"
"I don't think that's what you're gonna do." Bull practically purred as he reached underneath Lavellan to finger the tip of his dripping cock, massaging the over sensitive tip with a blunt fingertip and making the torment that much worse. "I think you're going to blow your load without asking. What does that get you, hmm?"
"Double points!" Lavellan shouted, the dread in his voice hard to make out over the excruciation of another pulse pushing him closer. Iron Bull had enough mercy to release his lover's cock, but nothing more.
"I heard that mages tended to really like this. Worth every bit of gold." He spun Lavellan then, which put the plug farther from reach and less likely to be removed. Relief wasn't coming. Definitely going to die. The upside, was it put Lavellan at eye level with a very undressed Bull, who looked about as aroused as Lavellan felt. "You can come when I do." Bull said, before putting a big hand in Lavellan's hair and guiding him to where he was clearly needed most.
With something to focus on besides the desperate need to orgasm, Lavellan opened his mouth and eagerly met the challenge before him. He was good at this, he could undo Bull quickly with his mouth, but it would be a thousand times more difficult to do it before his own end came. He eyes fluttered closed as he first swirled his tongue around the thick crown of the qunari's length, gathering the taste of his precum. He wasn't able to access any more or any less than what Bull set for him like this, and so when all the man gave him was the head, Lavellan moaned in frustration even as he suckled it intently.
Each pulse caught his breath and made him moan around the mouthful he had, and when Bull inched more into his mouth, watching him take it with heavy breathing and harsh moans of his own, Lavellan knew he was lost. This alone could make him come, never mind the blighted plug. There was nothing that could be done to him now that wouldn't push him over the edge, pain or pleasure would end him.
Iron Bull had been ecstatic to find that he could fit into the mouth of his lover, if only just barely. He'd trained Lavellan's throat over time, and so when he pushed so far as to reach the back of Lavellan's throat there was no gag reflex, just the moans of an elf completely overwhelmed by pleasure.
"Do you like this, little Inquisitor?" Iron Bull finally asked, his voice like gravel, his breathing as harsh as Lavellan's now. It provided hope, and Lavellan doubled his efforts, suckling noisily, uncaring of what he looked like, of pride or modesty or anything except bringing his lover to completion. "Oh, that's a yes." Bull groaned, and soon he gave in to his needs, even the qunari's control having limits.
He drew back before thrusting forward, soon fucking himself into Lavellan's throat blindly. Never too hard, always conscious of the limits of his smaller lover, but on the edge, pushing and challenging at all times. Lavellan's cries were muted against Bull's flesh, he strained helplessly against the ropes holding him, and desperately, desperately he endured. Breathe. Don't come. Breathe. Don't come. Both were becoming more and more difficult.
When he looked up, eyes wet with nothing but the strain, he found Bull looking down, watching him with such an open expression of lust and desire that Lavellan trembled with need at the very edge of his orgasm. But his eyes were a weakness to the qunari, and just like that, Lavellan had won. Bull let out an abrupt roar as he came, partly down Lavellan's throat, before pulling back as the elf coughed, hardly able to remember to swallow as his own orgasm blinded him.
Swallowing was the only thing that stopped him from choking as Bull filled his mouth, he struggled to clear his throat to gasp for sorely needed breath, and only once the qunari had finished and pulled out did the elf slump exhausted into the ropes.
He twitched and spasmed regularly, from both the remnants of his orgasm and the plug still pulsing away against his now hyper sensitive prostate. He trembled under Iron Bull's hands as the qunari stroked them down his sides, patting him approvingly, and finally, thankfully, thumbing the base of the plug in a way that deactivated the constant pulses, giving the Inquisitor peace.
"You did good, Kadan." The big man finally said, his voice breathless and low. He stood so close, Lavellan was able to nuzzle against his hip, pressing wet and swollen lips to it.
"Thank you." He whispered. Iron Bull waited like that until he'd caught his breath, before running hands down his sides and back, massaging the soft rope along with skin before he slowly spun Lavellan around again. The plug was removed, and Lavellan let out a low moan, feeling empty and needy with it gone.
That didn't last long. Iron Bull was still hard, the first orgasm only ever really dulling the edge of his need. The thick crown of his oil-slickened cock was eager to take the place of the plug, much thicker still than it had been. Even relaxed as he was, completely boneless in the ropes, it hurt. Penetration always did in the beginning, their size difference simply too much to not involve some discomfort. But as always, Bull was slow, patient, and Lavellan let out an agonized moan as he accepted his lover into his body again.
His jaw was aching, having been open to the limit for so long, but he managed to whisper encouragement to his lover, That's it. Feels good. I'm fine, please more. It was enough to break the spell of their quiet afterglow, and Bull finally began to thrust, finally began to claim his lover.
Thrusts were shallow at first, though anything but gentle as Bull began to sweat. Every time he pushed, he struck that spot with as much strength as the magic pulse of the plug, and it wasn't long before Lavellan was awakened from his stupor, his moans becoming more desperate, and eventually turning into cries as Bull's thrusts became overwhelmingly strong.
The qunari's hands at his hips were strong enough to leave bruises, but the motion allowed by the suspension, the ropes that kept Lavellan open at the easiest angle, it was all too good to do anything but surrender to it. Lavellan was lost in bliss, a combination of Bull's name and profanities the only thing besides moans that he could manage.
His second orgasm crashed upon him, far less stamina the second time unlike his lover, and as he clenched and thrashed against the ropes, screamed his bliss, begged for more, Iron Bull's cursing grew louder, his grunts interspersed with Kadan, and So fucking good.
Eventually, even Iron Bull's control left him. As he rutted mindlessly, he reached underneath his lover, seized his damp cock in a tight, slick hand, and stroked him firmly, mercilessly. It was too much, Lavellan was too sensitive, and soon he was thrashing against everything, trying to find relief as he begged for more, pleasure becoming pain which was just as good as the pleasure.
When he fell into his third orgasm, clenching desperately as he hollered, Bull's thumb swirling the too-sensitive head making it as much of an agony as it was a bliss, Iron Bull followed with a roar. Lavellan could feel the bloom of heat as Bull emptied himself again. Both of them trembling and sweating, they found their breath together.
"Fuck." Bull was leaning heavily on one of the posts of the four poster bed, needing a moment to recover. "That was good, Kadan." He breathed out. Once he'd regained his composure, he ran hands down Lavellan's sides, listened to his heavy breathing and smiled. "You okay?"
"Hnnngh." Lavellan managed to get out. Sense was gone. Words weren't possible. When slick fingers wormed their way into him, he could barely tense a muscle, letting out a low whine instead as Bull admired his handiwork.
"Do you remember your name?"
"Kadan." He managed to breathe out, a great effort.
It drew a laugh from Iron Bull, who leaned down to press his lips to the elf's ass. After several slow moments of letting the elf recover, the qunari removed his fingers. He licked across the fluttering muscle instead, drawing a groan from his lover as he slowly, carefully licked him clean.
"'s gonna fall off if I..." Lavellan managed to whine, and Iron Bull chuckled into his lover's skin, his smile felt most intimately by his lover. He continued for a few moments, just enough until Lavellan awoke enough to be able to protest again, before he pulled away.
He unknotted the rope tied around the post, and slowly lowered his exhausted elf into the admittedly soaked blankets beneath him. Bull produced a small knife after fishing it out of his boot, using it to begin cutting the ropes. Normally he would not waste them, especially these, but he had been given more than one set, and he was far too satisfied and ready to tend to his needing lover to care about their worth as he cut them off.
As the ropes were removed, one limb at a time, Bull helped Lavellan stretch his stiff limbs, massaging each with large hands that helped relax tense muscles. It was a slow process, but when he was done, Lavellan was a boneless heap, practically purring in contentment as he pushed against Bull's hands.
Satisfied, Bull cut down the remaining ropes, put the oil on the bed stand for later use, and then lifted his elf long enough to tear off the soiled top-cover and deposit Lavellan into the pillows. He joined him shortly after, and almost immediately Lavellan was cuddling into him, sleepy contentment and the need to be held driving him.
"Thank you Bull." He finally whispered against scarred skin. His hands trailed across the qunari's chest, sliding to the side of his face. It took a great deal of effort to make his body move, but he managed to climb ontop of the qunari enough to reach his lips for a kiss.
Bull accepted it, let the Inquisitor set the pace this time, hands careful and tender as he held Lavellan close. "Thank you, Kadan." He said softly, running a hand through the mage's damp hair, smiling after a moment. "You know that was only like, maybe twelve points."
Lavellan shivered, moaning against Iron Bull's jaw. "That plug has to have been at least fifteen by itself." He whimpered.
"I finally found your kryptonite." Bull chuckled, "Should I start being jealous if some fucker mage casts a lightning spell on you?"
"Oh maker." Lavellan groaned, smacking Bull's shoulder. "I'm too tired to even try and think of something witty to say to that." He was grinning, and it stayed on his face, even as Bull flipped them over to press lips to the Inquisitor's forehead, then nose, than lips. After several long moments of simply kissing, the qunari finally flopped back onto his back.
"I'm proud of you, Boss." He told the darkness of the room. It was followed by a soft thwack of a slim hand hitting a massive chest, and tired laughter.
"You can feel free to scrap that plan now." The elf chuckled, while he arranged himself comfortably against his qunari.
Pressed against his lover's side, Lavellan found sleep. And for even a short while, total peace.
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Game of Sticks