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Malika Rides the Bull	By : LadySummerisle Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9575 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Inquisition, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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   “So, do you do two do that often?” asked Malika. Grim had left and now she and Iron Bull were laying in bed together. She had cleaned off and he was rubbing salve on her. She enjoyed the warm tingling of the salve coupled with the feeling of his large fingers massaging her gently. Bull laughed a little,
   “No...not often…” he said as he closed up the jar. He placed it on the floor next to the bed.
   She hummed thoughtfully,
“So, how do you decide who gets the special treatment?”
   Bull slid back to sit up against the headboard and pulled her onto his lap,
   “You know…” he said, wrapping one large arm around her, “Sometimes you’re passing through a tavern and see someone across the bar eyeing the whole group. Not just one of us...So you send the bartender over with a drink...have him tell her it’s from the big guy...and the blond.”
   Malika chuckled,
   “Does that actually work?”
   “Sure. If I’ve read them right.”
   Malika smiled and shook her head. The conversation lulled and she lifted his hand. His sheer size continued to impress her, she didn’t know if she could ever take it for granted. Her entire hand was only slightly larger than his palm. She brought it up to her face and nuzzled into it for a moment; she felt safe and happy in his arms, like she could stay that way forever...but that thought held a tinge of sadness. Forever might be a long time for a man like Iron Bull. She took a deep breath and held his hand to her heart,
   “You certainly read me right.”

   With only two more nights until they were to leave for Halamshiral, Malika’s advisors were at a stand still. Leliana and Josephine had been hard at work selecting appropriate attire for the ball, but the problem was, they couldn’t quite agree what that appropriate attire would be. For the men it was simple: red coats with gold epaulettes and blue sashes. They seemed plain and conservative, but they would serve their purpose and not make it look like the Inquisition was too frivolous with their coin. The women were another matter. Josephine insisted that it would be best if they presented a united front and emphasized the no-frills nature of the Inquisition. She proposed that the female Inquisition agents should dress the same as the men, an idea that Malika agreed with. Leliana was another story. She believed it was essential to show the Orlesians that the Inquisition could beat them at their own game in every sense. She had one of the finest tailors in Orlais create stunning gowns for all of them and each were as unique as the woman they had been designed for.
   In the war room, Leliana had set the dresses up on mannequins and placed two full length mirrors in a corner. Malika walked among the dresses, her favorite was Cassandra’s. It was a stark black with sharp shoulder pieces. Straps cris-crossed her chest, attaching to a flat bust line. The bodice clung tightly to the mannequin, but the dress filled out at the bottom with three panels; the central one embroidered with an ornate, silver dragon. She was easily able to ascertain which dress belonged to whom, but there was one missing. Hers. Perhaps Leliana had considered Malika’s suggestion that she not be forced to parade around like some noble chaser in Orzammar’s Diamond Quarter.
   “These are beautiful.” said Malika. Leliana smirked knowingly at her,
   “You’re wondering where yours is.”
   “No--um, it’s okay if you didn’t get me one…” she stammered, but she knew that wasn’t the case. From a darkened edge of the room Leliana proudly wheeled out another mannequin, this one covered in a black cloth,
   “It’s so beautiful,” she said, her face lighting up, “I wanted you to see it on yourself first. Turn around and get undressed.”
   She considered saying no, but this is the first time she had seen Leliana this excited. She seemed...happy...and it probably wasn’t wise to agitate Sister Nightingale...
   “Go on!” she said. Malika turned around and began disrobing. She heard Leliana tending to the mannequin behind her and fought the urge to turn around. When she was done she stood facing the wall, crossing her arms against her breasts.
   “You have such a beautiful figure, Inquisitor. You shouldn’t be so modest.” said Leliana.
   “I know” said Malika. She cringed immediately at her ungrateful choice of words, “I mean...thank you...It’s just...we’re in the war room...I don’t want to be...inappropriate…”
   “Not like the other day.” teased Leliana. Malika’s heart dropped. She knew. Who else knew? In the past, Malika would have revelled in the idea that someone knew about her and Iron Bull’s deviances, but their recent activities...she didn’t know how to respond.
   “I have eyes and ears everywhere, Inquisitor. Some on my best friend.” she said, “But don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”
   With that, a heavy mess of fabric was dropped on Malika’s shoulders. She reached up to find her way out the top and with some effort, she did.
   “Keep your eyes closed!” said Leliana as she began to fasten the back, “I want it to be a real surprise!”
   Malika did as she was told. There was a little she could already tell about the dress, though. It hardly covered her chest or her back and it had a very full skirt. She wasn’t sure how she’d even be able to walk. She heard the jingling of chains and another piece was placed upon her shoulders. It felt stiff, almost like armor and she felt the chill of metal on her arms and her chest.
   Leliana took her hand and led her, stumbling, to the mirrors,
   “Open your eyes.”
   She did. It was like looking at a different person. A twisted version of herself. Beautiful, but wrong. It was a gown of rich purple that plunged deeply in front, showing off the curve of her breasts. It was trimmed at the bustline and at the hem with incredibly detailed embroidery; geometric patterns that harkened back to Orzammar and the deep roads. There was a separate shoulder piece made of black leather that stuck out on each side slightly like epaulettes with golden chains hanging from her shoulders and neck. In the back a bowed piece of fabric hung like a cape, adding drama but still showcasing her bare skin. Her body stiffened as she looked upon herself.
   Leliana put a hand on her shoulder and Malika jumped a little,
   “You look incredible, Inquisitor! Like a queen!” Leliana kneeled next to her and fussed with the dress, pulling at it and adjusting it while Malika stood there, dumbstruck,
   “If your love sees you like this, we’ll have to clear off the war table again!”
   “My--oh, Iron Bull? You don’t--I don’t think he’d be into all of this silk and fluff.”
   Leliana raised her eyebrow,
   “I think you are wrong, Inquisitor. For a spy, you are not as observant as I thought.”
   “I wasn’t a spy for very long.” said Malika. She continued to look herself over in the mirror and took a deep breath,
   “Leliana...I don’t think I’ve ever looked so beautiful in all my life.”
   Leliana smiled knowingly at her and shook her head,
   “But you would rather wear the other outfit…”
   Malika nodded her head. Leliana continued looking her over for a bit longer,
   “It’s a shame,” she said, “But I want you to be at your best.”
   Malika relaxed and thanked her, relieved that she didn’t incur her wrath,
   “But I think you should keep it,” she said, “The Iron Bull may surprise you.”
   Malika tittered under her breath,
   “He usually does…”
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Malika Rides the Bull