Big Blue

“This is ridiculous.” Iron Bull cracks his eye open, his hands still linked behind his head. He had been leaning against the wall, but now he shifts forward, looking over at the book in their hands.

“What is?” They’ve made themselves comfortable in his lap, their back against his chest, and their legs over his. They hold up the book, in both hands for Bull to see.

“It’s like no one checked their spelling or grammar. This plot is… nonsense. The characters personalities change on a whim. Not to mention they seem to be allergic to the word ‘said’. Everything is gasped this, or whispered that. How is this a best-seller?” They’re shaking the book as if the words might fall from the pages, form some sort of answer. Bull plucks the book from their hands, and tosses it expertly. Pages ripple as it goes out the window, a solid hit as it lands against the ground outside.

“I paid gold for that,” they say as they twist and turn in his lap, moving to face them. Hands on his shoulder, pressing their forehead against his. He rests his hands on their hips, gives them a grin.

“You want me to reimburse you, Inquisitor?”

“Five pieces.”

“There is no way a book cost five pieces.”

“There’s a tax for throwing it out the window.”

“You’re taxing me now? You’ve been hanging out with the wrong crowd, with that language,” he says. Wrapping his arms around them, hoisting them up properly into his arms. Their knees on his thighs, and they seem taller than him, here, now. The sun framing behind them, a halo all their own. He smiles up at them, a hand steadying at the small of their back. The light shines on every inch of them. Every bit he loves. Reaching up with his other hand, he gently pulls them down to him. “How ‘bout I pay you back some other way?”

“This is not what I had in mind!” They yell over the roaring crowd at Bull. Skyhold is lit up with torches, laughter and shouting filling up the courtyard. Iron Bull cheers as Krem tackles the soldier, knocks them to the ground. A mighty roar goes up from the ones with coin on him, a cry of ‘get up’ from all the others. Krem twists the soldiers arm behind his back, a knee keeping him in place. The soldier taps out and the victory cry goes up.

“Horns up! Horns up!” Covered in mud, Krem is grinning as he hops the fence to join the others. Bull claps a hand against his back, and the Inquisitor deposits a hefty bag of coin into his hand.

“Cheers,” Krem says with a wink. “Drinks on me!”

My non-binary Inquisitor, Inan Lavellan. No particular pronoun preference.