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Sleep came easily. The easiest it’s been since he managed to leave with his head intact from Helgen and trying to put as much distance between himself and his master. Each night had been so difficult and plagued with nightmares. Tonight… Tonight was different. He slept with ease, protected by the huge dragon he was sleeping against, and so warm. So warm. There’s a slight, slight snore as he sleeps on, even after the Iron Bull wakes.

When he finally comes around, it’s to hushed voices and soft pillows and a huge wing. A moment of tension, then he relaxes. Right, dragon. Huge dragon, the Iron Bull. No need to be scared. Right. He sits up as the dragon turns his head to look at him.

[It is fine, I was waking up anyway.] A nod at the question of hunger and his ears seem to perk and eyes light up at the mention of a job. A job? [May I? I do not know if I will be of any use, but maybe… I could try?] If he’s supposed to be the alleged ‘Dragonborn’ after all, he might as well start gearing up, right?

[I would not mind since you are of…f-fering.] He stretches, with the shirt riding up to show the scrawny, boney figure and scars of bite marks here and there.

“Breakfast first,” Bull says, eyeballing the elf’s ribs with a disapproving look. He stands up and shakes off much like a dog, his wings fluttering and adjusting to lay flat over his back. Who knows how long he was sitting in one stiff position so he wouldn’t wake the elf. He nudges his nose against the elf’s belly through his shirt, greeted immediately by a creak of hunger. “Lots of breakfast.”

He follows Lerith downstairs, to where everybody else is getting ready to embark on a journey, helping one another into various armor and enjoying a breakfast of hot bread and peppered fried eggs.

“Hey! Someone get Squeaks here a set of armor that’ll fit,” Bull orders, his voice carrying easily through the room. There’s a moment where everybody looks around to see if someone else will do it, before the small dunmer woman from before, Skinner, jumps to attention to go fetch him something. Bull settles at the head of the table, lowering his head to a platter of roast something already set up for him.

“Is he coming with?” Bull’s lieutenant asks from his right, sounding a little skeptical as Bull waits for Lerith to take a seat.

“Yeah, that gonna be a problem?” Bull challenges casually, crunching into the roast, bones and all.

“Does he have any combat training?” Krem asks, trying to backpedal to a more reasonable question.

Luto had had one too many drinks in the tavern. He and his party had just come back from the Hinterlands which for the most part was safe now that the dragon there had been taken care of. And to celebrate, he and The Iron Bull had gone drinking. He should have mentioned that he was a lightweight especially when they were drinking a really strong qunari drink.

Luto gave out a small drunken tune, looking up at Bull, swaying a bit. He raised his arms and made grabby hands at the one eyed man. 

“Yes pleeeease! Carry me like… like one of those princesses in shem stories!”

“A princess, huh? You’re basically a princess, that’s fair,” 

When Bull started, Kaaras stopped in his tracks, turning over his shoulder before he faced him again. For a brief moment, he thought that Bull might say something else, that he was wrong, that he did want more than just friendship. Perhaps that was foolish of him. Maker’s breath, this shouldn’t be so hard. 

His lips parted slightly when Bull explained he didn’t know what he wanted, and his brows arched slightly in concern, as well as surprise. So there was something there, then? Kaaras, of all people, knew that feelings were not just black and white. They were mixes of colours, some dark and some bold, some passionate and fierce. Bull knew nothing of love, at least not while under the Qun. But he wasn’t under the Qun anymore, was he? 

Taking a few steps forward again, the Inquisitor idly fiddled with the ring on his forefinger, as if it would calm his nerves. 

“I want you,” he stated softly, but honestly. It was best to just be upfront about this, so he knew where he stood, and Bull knew where he stood as well. “But I also don’t want this to be hard on you. When we first met, you told me that Qunari didn’t have sex for love. I asked if you’d ever been in love, and it was clear that you had not. I can’t say I am in love with you, Bull, I’ve not even been in a relationship with you, and I don’t think either of us is ready for that. But I do know that I want you.” In more than one way, which he did not admit quite yet. 

“For your sake, we can keep this casual between us. I know that you… you’re active with other people. If you want to do that, then, who am I to stop you? All I know is that when I thought you were lying there, about to die… I… I was terrified I might lose you.” 

Bull feels his stomach clench up in knots the same way it always does when the subject comes up. That tickle lights up in the back of his mind, caution, danger, abort mission.

“That was a lie, you know,” his voice comes out a lot rougher than he would have liked. He sits back down on the edge of his bed with a heavy thump, and he hangs his head, scrubbing his face with both hands. Just saying that much feels like an unbelievable chore, he can’t imagine continuing- but Kaaras is looking at him now, waiting for more, and doesn’t he deserve more? Doesn’t he deserve everything?

He can’t bring himself to look up. “I haven’t been in love in 30 years,” he says. “But it happened before. And he died, very badly. And I lost my mind, very badly. A lot of people died. Made me think a lot about why the Qun forbids this kind of love. Why they don’t allow anything past friendships. Wonder if the same thing would have happened if I just cared for him as a friend.”

By the time they reached the next town, she knew more than enough about Fisher’s Bleeders, and she was just as wary as before, if not more. She had good reason to avoid linking herself to groups. Wycombe had been a clusterfuck and it had done a lot more damage than she was ever going to admit. This group was no different, and she wanted to keep her distance, but she still needed the affiliation. She wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to manage both. 

She considered the inn, and scowled at his description. Not much to go off, and entirely unlikely.

“If it goes down to his knees, how does he sit down without getting himself stuck on it?” she muttered with a fierce scowl. She did not want to do this his way. She wanted to do it her own. Men with massive beards aside, there were better ways to coerce information from people, and that was what they needed. The information, the whereabouts of the key, she could get that herself. 

The problem was something quite different. And she only knew one way it was going to actually work.

Two qunari in a bar was odd, though, and that would need cover. She considered a moment, then shifted to adjust the pack on her back, trailing around the side of the building before dropping it to the earth and rummaging about in it a moment. She took a moment to dig out her dress, and then reached to unravel her hair from its braid, letting it spill loose down her back as she slipped into it, wrapping the red fabric close about her and worming her way from her trousers. She shoved them into the bag, set her staff against the wall beside it, hidden safe in some bushes, and tucked it all away out of sight so passerby wouldn’t get curious. 

“And if there are multiple people with massive beards?” she said. “No, you know who we’re looking for, you’re going to take me right to him.” She reached to the the red silk of her breast band about his neck a moment, a make-shift tie of sorts, a splash of color to break the mercenary look a bit. And then she examined him a moment before giving a small nod. Best she could do.

“You and I in there are going to draw eyes, so we work that. We go in together, and we make sure they see, and you lead me right to this man. Simple enough, right? After that it gets even easier.” At least in theory. She was going to have to stomach the feeling that settled in her gut at the idea - but the idea was hers, and she could do it, and she could pull it off.

She looked to him, her expression solemn. 

“You’re going to sell me.”

Granted she had no idea of actually following through on that particular arrangement, but no one would question their presence that way, and she was aware she could charm this man easily enough if she needed to. It was easier to do with the cover of being there for that reason in the first place. Anything extra she found - like his purse - was hers for the trouble.

Bull’s brow immediately creases at the suggestion, but it looks like he doesn’t have a better one. He licks his lips, his expression tight with thought for a moment, before he ultimately shakes his head. She’s right. He hadn’t really thought about the spectacle of two qunari because he so rarely thinks of himself as- he shouldn’t think like that, and he knows that.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, fussing with the red cloth around his neck uncomfortably. “But look- this job isn’t the end of the world. If it gets to be too much, you can back out. I’m not gonna sacrifice your health and well-being for a stupid key. I’ll cover for you when we go back to Fisher if you gotta back out. I’ll make it my fault, and we’ll do something else.”

Kaaras didn’t know what that meant. Any of it. Bull hoped it was a dream. So… he didn’t mean to kiss him? He didn’t want to kiss him? Didn’t want to deal with the repercussions? He knew that this was difficult for someone who had never experienced a romantic relationship, but in truth, Kaaras probably wasn’t any better at this than Bull was. He’d only ever been in one serious relationship, and it ended on bad terms. 

His gut felt tight as it formed a knot. His nerves turned to dread, as he realised that he was being rejected. No… that was fine. He had expected this anyway–but that didn’t mean it was any easier to deal with. 

Bull was wrong in the way he felt, though. He wasn’t some person who was heartless. He cared about people and things every day, even if he didn’t want to believe that. He saved his boys from the Qun, he cared about Cole, who was a spirit in a boy’s body. He stuck up for mages, such as himself and Dorian, even Solas. Bull wasn’t heartless, he knew how to care for people, he just didn’t know how to acknowledge that. Conditioning from the Qun, he suspected.

Nonetheless, he didn’t want this to be hard for Bull. That’s not how relationships should be.

“I understand,” he murmured, though the hurt in his voice was probably obvious, despite his attempts to keep it professional and neutral. “I don’t want to make this hard on you, Bull. I can’t make my feelings go away, it’s not how things work, but I will keep things professional between us.” He gave him a nod, as if that was a promise. 

“I appreciate you letting me know, either way. Thank you.” 

The Bull feels his chest clench when Kaaras responds. It shouldn’t have, he anticipated this. What was it he was hoping for? He wanted to reject Kaaras and then have the boss beg, or grovel, and then he’d- what? Cave in? So it wasn’t his idea? That’s not fucking fair. 

“Wait,” he stands up when Kaaras turns to leave. He didn’t think farther than that, so when the Inquisitor turns to look back at him, his mouth goes dry. He swallows thickly, feels the backs of his ears burn. “I... I got nothing.”

Makes him feel like a fool to admit, but he doesn’t have any more insight into what he wants than he did five minutes ago. He had an idea of what he should do, what he’s expected to do. What the Qun would have demanded of him, but... he’s not part of the Qun anymore. For the first time in fifty years, he’s not receiving orders anymore. He has to regulate his own damn life and it’s a lot to deal with. 

Good. Kaaras wasn’t sure if Bull was aware of what this conversation might entail, but he seemed more than compliant with talking. Perhaps that was just because Kaaras was the Inquisitor, and his boss (for now). Bull always had the option to leave, but he was being paid here, so he figured what mercenary would honestly leave such a great opportunity behind?

Without another word, the Vashoth followed the larger qunari up the stairs so they had some privacy to talk. He didn’t even think about other people watching them as they ascended the stairs of the tavern. He was far more preoccupied with what he was going to say.

There were a thousand thoughts going through his mind, rushing about like a madman and all nerves suffocating his throat. But once they reached the room, all Kaaras could do was think about being direct and as forward as ever. He was good at that, so why stop now? He didn’t have the time to dance around the issue any longer.

“I asked you here. I will start,” he stated as if that were necessary and the right thing to do. “I wanted to talk about us. About what you said to me in that healing tent. I don’t know if you’re aware, or remember, or if you were half out of your mind. It’s what I wanted to clarify.”

Before everything got weird.

“Bull, I have feelings for you. If you don’t want anything to do with me in that manner, then you’re free to tell me so.” He’d not say he wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not how things worked. 

“I will not hold anything against you, and I understand if you say you don’t harbour the same for me. I would not step out of line and I will continue to be professional with you, and consider you my friend.” 

‘Despite having kissed me, and your words.’

The Bull sighs, his arms crossed over his belly, and he keeps his eye on the ground as he listens. He looks up at Kaaras’ face, and feels his heart clench in that way he’s getting used to. He gives a breathy laugh and shakes his head, looking back down at the ground. 

“Honestly? I was hoping that was a dream.” he rubs his forehead with one hand. “Guess we’re not so lucky.”

He looks back up at the Inquisitor again, his smile almost looks sad. “Wish I could give you a cut and dry answer, boss. I appreciate your honesty, and I can’t say I’m surprised. But you’d be much better off spending your attention on someone who...”

He trails off. Someone who what? Loves him back? It’d be an outright lie if he said that. Someone who what, then? Truly, he knows, but he doesn’t even like to admit it to himself. He sighs again. 

Luto had had one too many drinks in the tavern. He and his party had just come back from the Hinterlands which for the most part was safe now that the dragon there had been taken care of. And to celebrate, he and The Iron Bull had gone drinking. He should have mentioned that he was a lightweight especially when they were drinking a really strong qunari drink.

The elf sat up wish a little-lopsided grin on his face. “Really? Oh but I don’t want to make Varric loose his job as a writer…” Luto looked ready to pass out. “Ya know what, we should go fight another dragon tomorrow! Maybe the one in The Hissing Wastes!”

Bull throws his head back with a laugh. “I like your enthusiasm, boss! But I don’t think you’ll convince anyone else that one dragon a week isn’t enough. Let’s get you to bed and see how you feel in the morning before you go making any promises.”