#dorian: thinks about iron bull dick in silence

[diamondcitydarlin]

"so there we were- five of us, a thousand of them. Also a dragon, I think? Anyway I just started swinging."

"a thousand? are you sure it was-"

"shhhhhh let him finish!!!"

[sorshania]

A question of Style

I totally blaming @bearly-tolerable​ for this. >3

**Set after the events of DAI but before Trespasser. Abelas and Lothuial are staying in Skyhold as the Inquisitor’s personal guests, until Leliana asks for Lothuial’s help to deal with some difficult dignitaries. 

Check at the end for the translation**

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Josephine stormed through the main hall of Skyhold, heading straight for the Inquisitor’s private quarters and paying little to no attention to the people jumping out of her path. The usually poised woman was furious, her eyes flaming as she muttered under her breath while clutching at her writing pad. “Inquisitor! This needs to stop!” she said, her voice ringing and her accent a little bit thicker due to her irritation, as she came up the stairs. Nysal and Leliana looked up at her, clearly surprised to see the Ambassador so… ruffled.

“My Lady Lavellan,” Josephine started, after catching her breath, and walked toward the desk, “I can deal with Sera’s lack of clean clothes, and I can deal with Cole’s strangeness. And I understand Serah Abelas and Lady Lothuial are staying here as your personal honored guests… But. This. Has to stop.” she repeated as she stopped in front of the Inquisitor.

“Josephine, slow down. I am not sure I follow you, what exactly has to stop? Has there been another incident?” Nysal asked, looking a bit worried. The last incident had been a little bloody after all. Not to mention all the feathers had to be cleaned off the roof.

“No, thanks the Maker. But, as of late, Lady Lothuial has been interrupting very delicate talks with difficult ambassadors and dignitaries.”

Nysal frowned and glanced at Leliana but the spymaster’s face remained inscrutable as she watched Josephine. The Inquisitor put her elbows on her desk and leaned forward, pressing her lips against her thumbs as she looked up at the Ambassador. “I find it difficult to believe.” she said after a time. “They both made it very clear they didn’t want to be a part of any of the current political games.”

“Yes, I am aware of that but…” Josephine stopped, searching for words.

“…But?” Nysal prompted, more and more worried. It wasn’t like the Ambassador to get so nervous.

“It started innocently enough.” Josephine said instead. “She could come to my office for a question about a package she would have received, while I was with the Fereldan dignitary. And she would only be wearing a robe.”

Nysal looked sharply at Leliana, who was concealing a small grin, and raised an eyebrow. Leliana just shook her head, her attention fully on Josephine. The Inquisitor looked back at the Ambassador, who was so incensed, she had not noticed the exchange between the two women.

“I’m guessing there is more to that.” Nysal said instead.

“Yes. Lady Lothuial has kept interrupting the meetings, each time wearing more and more revealing Orlesian lingerie, please don’t ask me how she got a hold of these, I have NO idea. It got to the point she asked the dignitary for his opinion. As he “clearly was a man of taste”.” Josephine said, quoting the elf. “I was afraid he would have an heart attack or worse!”

“And?”

“And… Nothing. Bann Vigard graciously said he was too overwhelmed to make a judgment and asked to be excused. He handed his resignation this morning, saying his nephew would take over.”

“Excellent.” Leliana commented softly.

“’Excellent’?” Josephine whirled toward the spymaster. “What exactly do you mean by “excellent”?”

“Bann Vigard was being difficult. He was also using both the Dalish clans and the city elves living on his bannorn, to portray himself as a defender of the elves so he could easily gain an audience with the Inquisitor, although there are numerous rumors he left the elves fend for themselves during the Blight. He had proven quite slippery however, and nothing could be proven.”

“…So you have asked Lady Lothuial to help have him resigned.” Josephine stated, quickly catching on. She had worked with Leliana before. She glanced at her writing pad and started jotting down some notes. “His nephew should prove to be more agreeable. He is at least more aware of the land, its peculiarities and its impact on the elves’ daily lives…” she mused out loud.

“And at the very least, his interests for Lady Lavellan will be more genuine than his uncle’s.” Leliana completed for her. “Meanwhile, Lady Lothuial gets to keep the garments. I believe she was very happy about this.”

Josephine simply nodded, writing down some more notes. “Do you think she would agree if I provided more names?”

“I’m positive she wouldn’t mind but you should ask her just in case. I will also need a copy of the list. I doubt I missed anyone but let’s make sure.”

“Of course.”

“Erm…. I’d like to know what is happening.” Nysal pipped in, looking at her spymaster and her ambassador in turn. The two women glanced at each other, before trying to answer at the same time.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea…”

“My Lady, you have to understand…”

“Enough.” The word was soft spoken but still firm enough to silence both Leliana and Josephine. “I want to know what’s going on.” Nysal said.

Josephine wetted her lips, her pen poised in the air while Leliana frowned slightly.

“I think it’s best if you stay out of it for the moment. For neutrality’s sake.” The spymaster said at last, cutting Nysal’s objections short.

****

Abelas looked down at his list, reading it over one more time. Besides him, Varric was busy jotting down notes for his next book. The Sentinel wasn’t sure if it was for a new book or the sequel for the one Cassandra had lent him. He hoped it would be. He wasn’t quite pressuring the dwarf for it, but it was close. Abelas really wanted to know how the Guard Captain would get out of the current mess and restore her good name.

“You should get the silk one. She likes silk even if Canneroc doesn’t exist anymore.” Cole said, appearing beside them. “His fingers brushing against her skin, soft, before holding her close, as if she would disappear again. A caress. Making sure she’s still real.”

Abelas blinked. It had been a while since he interacted with spirits.

“The color is good.” Cole continued. “It’s your favorite. She wants you to be happy. Just like you want her to be.”

“Thank you for the suggestions, Kid.” Varric said, grinning, while Abelas wondered if he could die from embarrassment. “Do you want me to ask Nightingale to see if she could get you a catalog, Golden?”

“Shut up Durgen’len.”

“I like to help.” Cole said simply.

****

Even the Iron Bull started to make some suggestions. Few things escaped the ex Ben-Hassrath agent after all.

“No offense, Boss, but that frilly lace thing won’t cut it with these ones.” He said, one day, standing in front of the Inquisitor’s desk, while Lothuial was plowing through some big Tevinter History book Dorian claimed was moderately accurate. “I heard they are most peculiar and have seen everything and anything. They won’t bat an eyelash even if the design is pretty nice.”

“Bull, what the hell are you talking about?” Nysal asked absently, her nose deep in the latest report from Crestwood.  No matter how much she tried to keep her desk clean, and empty, new documents, requests and the likes kept getting piled on top. She idly wondered if she could ask Dorian to resurrect Corypheus or if they could find some new evil mastermind to fight. She could use the distraction.

“The two new envoys from Nevarra. I don’t know if you talked with Cassandra yet but you should know they are members of her family. Now, I don’t want you two to get too excited but I have an idea.”

There was a rustling sound, like a cloak being dropped, followed by Lothuial’s sharp yell. Surprised, Nysal looked up to see the other elf hiding her face in the thick book she had been reading. She glanced at the Iron Bull. And stared.

The Qunari was wearing a strange array of ropes, looped through small silver hoops, that was snaked around the Bull’s body. Her eyes followed down, admiring the strange knotted art, until…

“Fen’Harel’s Dick, Bull! What the…” Nysal quickly used the report she was holding to hide her flaming face. He was wearing nothing else but those strangely knotted ropes.

“You like it? I had it specially made in Qundalon. I’m sure they’ll accept to do a custom work for you, Lothuial, since you’re considerably smaller than me. If not, I think I can reproduce the design. You see, if you pull this…”

“Bull, stop! Please… Get… Put that cloak back on. I’m sure Josephine will be able to handle the Nevarran envoys herself.” Nysal said, still shielded by the report. Creators, she wished she could be back in the field, closing rifts.

****

Abelas grunted, waking up to the feeling a hand patting down his stomach.

What the…

The hand slid lower, grabbing him firmly.

OH!

He turned around, toward Lothuial lying behind him and froze.

She was asleep. A small frown marring her lips, as if she was trying to figure something out. He managed to catch some of the words she mumbled in her sleep.

“L'acd lunnald... L'acd iha puhha knuccain…”

“D'yc byc à d’ehxieédan.”

She suddenly patted him on his cheek.“I love you…” she mumbled before turning around.

Now, Abelas was quite confused. “Vhenan?” he asked, but only her snores answered him.

****

The strange antics continued for a few more weeks. No one knew when Lothuial would show up or who would be the intended target. It quickly involved more and more members of the Inner Circle into it while the Inquisitor to maintain as much as a straight face as she could. Even Sera took an interest, hanging in the Main Hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of the baffled nobles.

“Did you really ask the Duchesse of Baujac to actually touch whatever you were wearing? I never saw a noble scramble out of Josephine’s office so fast.” Nysal asked the dark-skinned elf sitting in front of the fire place, one evening, in the Inquisitor’s private quarters.

“A bit crude, I’ll admit, but very effective.” Lothuial grumpily touched her nose. “Ugh… I’ll never be warm again.” She complained, wrapping the fur blanket tighter around her. “I wonder if I should suggest fur lingerie to Leliana, unless her evil plans involve me freezing my butt off while terrorizing her enemies.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as calling them enemies.” Nysal said. “And I am not sure fur would be a good idea for… private garments… Just think of the chaffing... down there…”

“Hm… I was thinking more of a one-piece thing. Full body suit. With a bear headpiece. I would stand in a corner, not moving, until one those peacocks comes too close or says something stupid.”

“Compared to what you had been wearing earlier, it would be a vast improvement, my dear.”

Both elves turned around to see Vivienne standing at the top of the stairs. “Who ever designed these clearly had no idea of what they were doing. No sense of style or even shape. A figure like yours should be shown with pride, not buried under a ton of shapeless lace. Would you care for a suggestion, my dear?” the Enchanter said, stepping forward.

Lothuial and Nysal glanced at each other. “Lady Vivienne, I shall proudly whatever you wish to put me into as long as I can keep warm.” Lothuial said.

“Most excellent.” Vivienne purred. “Come and see me tomorrow. I shall introduce you to my personal seamstress. I am sure we can work something out.”

Nysal wisely kept her mouth shut and her nose in the report in front of her. One shopping to Orlais with the Iron Lady had been enough, thank you very much.

****

Abelas headed toward the room he shared with Lothuial. Usually, it was the night he spent with Varric, playing Wicked Grace and trading stories instead of money. Unless the Commander was present. He had been on his way to the Herald’s Rest when he spotted the runner with a very specific package, that bore the logo of the shop where he had sent his orders. Varric was most understanding. “I think you should head back upstairs, Golden. I doubt you’ll be able to focus much anyway.”

He knocked on the door. “It’s me.”

“… Come in.”

Lothuial was wearing what was in the package. Of course, it had her name on it but… He took a deep breath and slowly closed the door behind him. “You like it?” he asked.

“I do. The color is very pretty.”

“Very.”

“How did you know I liked silk?” she asked, slowly walking toward him.

“A… friend mentioned it.”

“Did he? A very observant friend you have then…” she said as she started toying with the hem of his shirt.

“Hm… You seemed to have had a very interesting month, helping Josephine and all.” He said, gently dragging his fingers up her sides.

“I did, but I told her this morning that I was done. So, this,” she said as she put her arms around his neck, “is for your eyes only.”

“I am flattered.” Abelas lowered his head to brush his lips against her cheek. “Maybe I should try it too… Running around half naked to scare the nobles seems to be… fun.”

“Hmmmm… If you do, you should speak with the Iron Bull. I heard he has some fascinating ideas.” She said against the corners of his mouth.

Abelas simply chuckled and ran down his hands to grab her butt, and firmly pressed her against his body. “Maybe I will…”

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“L'acd lunnald... L'acd iha puhha knuccain…” - “It’s okay.... It’s a good size...”

“D'yc byc à d’ehxieédan.” - “Nothing to worry about...”

[nothingbutthefix]

Hurting me so...Pt. 1

Authors note: I have been playing (replaying, but whatever) DA:I again and am finding my love for the many pairings in the game coming back. I have no idea how this story line will fair but writing it so far has been fun. If you like it, yay! if not, alrighty.

Warnings: This piece contains sexual content of FxM as well as implied MxM and strong language.

Tags: The Iron Bull x InquisitorFem, Iron Bull, Elendria, Dorian Pavus, smut.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of DA:I. This is a work of fantasy and in no way reflects the views or beliefs of DA:I. Reader discretion is advised.

Many never knew the inquisitor for something she was: promiscuous. Not that that was a bad thing, certainly. Iron Bull knew though, long before this morning when we found himself waking next to her inert form, it was something that would break many hearts.

He watched the steady rise and fall of her chest as she slumbered, one nimble hand draped across her closed eyes… those deep, amber eyes that could take in everything and give nothing away. Her copper hair was tangled across the pillow, looking almost like rays of late afternoon sun spilling across a valley. Her pale skin puckered with goosebumps as a soft breeze blew through Bull’s chambers, not too far from the tavern they had flirted in only a short time ago.

He knew she would be waking soon as the bustle of the day in Skyhold began to tickle at his sharp ears but he chose to let her sleep. If he could be honest with himself, he enjoyed the way she became so prone, trusting that no ill will would come to her while he was laying by her side.

           Iron Bull was kidding himself, though, thinking that she was only his. They had agreed that this was a temporary arrangement and it didn’t stop them from seeing others when they fancied. In fact, maybe a fort night ago he had given his bed over to Dorian. The Tevinter mage was aloof about the whole affair in the daylight, but things changed when night veiled the keep.

           The mercenary’s heart thudded painfully, though, at the thought of the day before, when he had seen the inquisitor with Commander Cullen. She had smiled, flirtatious as ever, touching the fair haired Templar’s arm and causing the commander to stutter and blush.

           The mercenary knew what kind of effect she had on the men (and women) of her party. None the less, these thoughts could turn sour in an instant.

           His musings were silenced as the woman in question began to rouse, turning her face towards her midnight companion. His gaze was met with amber jewels as she pried her lids open to the light of the morning. She gave a soft chuckle as their eyes (well, his eye and her pair) met and turned that lovely face away, back into the shelter of her hand.

           “Maker, you look at me like I’m a fragile flower starting to bloom,” there was no disgust in the soprano remark, simply a shy, bashfulness.

           “Ah, boss, I was simply admiring that such a small elf could snore so very, very loud.” Iron Bull replied as he sat up, stretching.

           “Please, Bull, you were calling my name enough last night, I hope you at least remember it,” the inquisitor quipped as she mimicked the gesture before hopping out of the large bed to find her garments, “and ladies do not snore.”

Bull watched her firm ass jiggle as she walked to her shirt, now useless as he had torn it off last night, and grunted in agreement.

           Oh yes, Bull thought to himself as he admired her full breasts while she tried to fashion a workable garment to cover them, I remember your name so well.

            Elendria, he groaned as she pushed him to the bed and climbed astride him.

           Elendria, he gasped as she kissed, nipped and licked her way down his broad chest and stomach, leaving small marks all the way.

           Elendria, he grunted as she took his hefty cock into her mouth, working the shaft with those magic wielding hands.

           Elendria, he moaned as she sat upon him, her scalding vulva slipping and sliding on his cock while she rutted her clit against the head.

           Elendria, he warned breathlessly as she sank down upon his throbbing dick with a satisfied sigh before working herself into a rhythm meant to please.

           Oh, Maker, Elendria! He called out as he came inside her, filling her womb with his burning hot seed, something he had never done with any of the bar maidens or serving girls at the tavern.

            “I was thinking we would venture back out to the Hinterlands and see about dissolving the rift by the farm,” Elendria said casually as she wiggled into her leather trousers, bringing Bull out of a thought that was sure to have him throwing her back onto the bed. Her thick thighs had always given her grief when she dressed, Bull had noted.

           “Elendria,” Bull started, shifting his weight to adjust towards her. He wished he could say that he wanted her to come back to bed, desired to tell her how he wanted to feel her flesh against his, craved – above everything he had ever craved – that she would call him hers and her his. But he said none of this as her amber eyes brought their full attention back up to the mercenary captain. Instead, he tucked his pain away in the deepest reaches of his heart and nodded, “I think that will go well, boss.”