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Not everyone has a soulmate. No one has a soulmate under the Qun. They take care of the marks for you if they show up. Bull never thought too much about it once he got to a certain age, not having soul marks himself.
It was certainly a surprise when they appeared on his skin in an elegant script on his shoulder.
I would notice if you were gone.
He wasn’t sure what to do about them. Not sure what to do about a soulmate. He knew they would make Dorian feel weird about what they were doing, and he didn’t necessarily want to answer questions about them so he managed to keep them covered with vitaar. The black patterns he painted swallowed up the words, made it a little easier not to think about them, to think about what they meant.
One night after Dorian had collapsed on his chest, sprawled out and snoring, drooling on Bull’s pec, he was forced to admit that he might know whose words were on his shoulder.
They had only slept together a handful of times at this point, and Dorian was still reluctant to speak about the nature of their relationship in public. Bull knew how he felt, though. He could see it in the way Dorian looked at him sometimes, after sex. Or in broad daylight, even, outside of Bull’s room, when they were out with the boss together. He wasn’t very good at hiding his feelings, and Bull had always been perceptive. He could see where this thing was going.
And, to his surprise, he wasn’t all that alarmed about it. Dorian was nowhere near ready to talk about it, but maybe he would be someday.
“I’m hoping we’re good for each other,” he had cheerfully told the boss. He had meant that. The feeling he got in his chest when he looked at Dorian, the way he felt when he had heard about Halward Pavus’ plans to blood magic his sexuality away...Bull already knew Dorian was important.
If these were his words...well. He could think of many worse people to be stuck with.
He was turning over the idea in his mind, of Dorian and soulmates and how to discuss it when the Qun reached out to him.
He was nervous at the idea of an alliance with them. “I’m used to them being over there," as he had said.
The inquisitor seemed excited at the prospect of a power as mighty as the Qun helping them. “We’re not taking Dorian,” Trevelyan said bluntly. “We can’t afford to fuck this up.”
Bull saw the sense it it, and nodded. Though he maybe had different reasons for wanting to keep Dorian away from this meeting. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Don’t blow the horn, Bull. The Chargers need to hold that position.”
The inquisitor made the call. Bull obeyed him.
Gatt looked proud of him, as though he had known all along Bull wouldn’t disappoint him.
Bull watched as the Chargers fought to hold their ground. He watched as they fell, dead, one after the other.
The Dreadnought was safe, the alliance was secured.
Bull’s own alliance was secured as well. It was good, really. He’d been away from the Qun too long.
Bull was no longer able to compartmentalize when he returned to Skyhold and saw Dorian waiting for him. He was wringing his hands, anxious and worried for him. “Bull--Amatus--”
And fuck, he knew what that meant. He couldn’t deal with that--he couldn’t. Why would he say that now?
“Dorian,” he said, as calm as he was able. He knew it sounded convincing and yet Dorian would not stop looking at him with those wide, worried eyes. “I’ll see you in the tavern later?”
Dorian looked like he wanted to grab Bull, wanted to keep him there and make him talk, but he lacked the confidence. Bull knew he would. He stepped around him with no touch save a hand placed on his shoulder, a small act of comfort to tide him over until that night.
Bull cried, after they drank together. His lone eye watered and suddenly he was crying, nothing too loud or obnoxious, but noticeable all the same. Dorian seemed alarmed, and deeply sad for him. “Come on, Bull, up you get,” he encouraged. His tugging on Bull’s arm was rather useless considering how small he was in comparison, but Bull made it easy for him. He stood, and allowed Dorian to lead him upstairs.
They fucked, and Dorian took care of him, for once. The appearance of a soul mark on Dorian’s skin only made him feel worse. It was written along his spine. I'll be back before you know it.
Bull didn’t know if Dorian even knew what it said.
“I heard what Cole said,” he said through tears as they lay together in his bed.
Dorian rubbed his arm, lying there silent, allowing Bull to run his mouth like some stupid imekari.
"‘horns pointed up’, after I betrayed them, that's what he thought. I left them to die and they...they should’ve hated me. I want them to hate me,” he growled.
“The inquisitor made the decision,” Dorian answered, voice strained. He probably meant to sound soothing, but his nails scratched at Bull’s skin as he spoke. It was clear what he thought about Trevelyan's choice. “You didn’t blow the horn.”
“I couldn’t,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I couldn’t save them.”
Dorian sat up and ran a gentle hand over his horns. He took Bull’s face and guided it to his neck. Bull grabbed him and held him tight as he shook.
“There, now,” Dorian whispered, as soft as Bull had ever seen him. “I’m here.”
“Kadan,” he cried. Dorian’s arms tightened marginally. Bull held him and sobbed.
The next morning, Bull watched as Dorian slept. He looked beautiful in the dawn light. He twitched when Bull ran a hand along his thigh, breath stuttering for a loud snore.
Bull sighed. He couldn’t keep this up.
Bull knew Dorian wouldn’t want him to go back to his superiors but he hadn’t anticipated Dorian’s odd reaction. He had just nodded, expression strangely fixed. He clearly didn’t want Bull to go, but didn’t seem to know how best to tell him he wanted him to stay. Bull didn’t push him. He really didn’t need to hear whatever Dorian had to say right now, even though he wanted an excuse.
The horrific moment when Dorian bade him farewell stayed in his mind the entire trip there.
Dorian had wrapped himself around Bull in a tight hug before stepping back and just gently holding his sides. Bull leaned forward and kissed his head. “It will be alright.”
Dorian sighed. “I worry, Bull, that’s all. You haven’t been yourself for...some time, now.”
He would be even less himself when he returned, he thought morosely.
That was wrong. He would be more himself. He needed this. Needed the reeducation he was returning for. Thoughts like these only proved it.
“I’ll be fine, kadan.” Bull knew he should have avoided the endearment, considering he was going back to have this part of himself corrected, this part that made attachments and valued them above his purpose--and yet. It fell from his lips one more time.
“Be safe, please. I would notice if you were gone,” he whispered.
Bull shut his eyes, briefly. The grief was a sharp ache in his chest. The words burned on his shoulder where they lay beneath his pauldron.
“I know,” he returned, equally soft. “I’ll be back before you know it.” As the words left his mouth he recalled the same words twisted along Dorian’s spine.
Soulmates. How unfair life could be, that you didn’t know your soulmate ‘til the moment you lost them.
This really cinched the whole deal, though--if this didn’t prove how far he had strayed, nothing would. There are no soulmates under the Qun. How could he have forgotten?
And how could he have let a Tevinter Altus get so close?
He repeated the phrase mindlessly to himself along the journey, in preparation for what was to come. He shouldn’t have been nervous, but it was what he needed. He did his best to push away the dread.
There are no soulmates under the Qun.
There are no soulmates under the Qun.
The last words Bull said to him echoed in his mind as he watched Bull ride off. He wanted to say more but they caught in his throat. He struggled to breathe.
I know. I’ll be back before you know it.
Everyone knew soul marks were the last words your soulmate would ever say to you. Dorian hadn’t even been sure Bull was his soulmate, and now...now he had already lost him.
He returned to the library where he waited to hear the news of Bull’s death.
He managed to push past the nervous energy and despair to get some things done. He couldn’t sit on his ass for the weeks it would take, anyway. He needed to keep being productive. He researched Corypheus, avoided the inquisitor, at whose feet he laid the blame for Bull’s distress, and lost himself in work.
He was so ready to hear that Bull had died that he was utterly unprepared to hear that he had returned.
Hissrad, you have forgotten your purpose.
Hissrad. No names under the Qun, but roles. He was Hissrad, his role was Hissrad.
No soulmates under the Qun either, which meant, of course, no soul marks. Hissrad was silent as they were burned away.
The only thing Hissrad did not expect was the go-ahead to continue his relationship with the Altus.
“We can use this,” they told him. “Stay close to him.”
Hissrad would obey.
He approached him in the tavern where he sat with a mug of ale. “Bull?” Dorian asked him tentatively. Bull looked up at him, smile on his face.
“Kadan,” he said easily. Too easy. Didn’t he realize how Dorian had been agonizing while he was away? “Come here, big guy.”
Dorian went to him, mind working furiously even as he kissed him hello.
Were they not soulmates? He didn’t know what to think, and so he made the decision not to. He drank with Bull until Bull carried him to his bed.
The sex was as good as ever, and Dorian laughed in relief as Bull pushed into him.
“I missed this, Amatus,” he said freely.
Bull’s eye glinted in the low light. He grinned with all his teeth. “Me too, Kadan.”
It was easy for Hissrad to stay close to Dorian. He wanted Bull to love him and cherish him, and he wanted someone to make him feel safe. Hissrad was more than capable of maintaining the illusion. Dorian, after all, wanted so badly to believe in his fairy tale.
“When it’s a hostile target, you give them what they want.” And so Hissrad did.
Once upon a time this had been about giving him what he needed, but no longer. Hissrad would remember what was important. He would keep him in line. Dorian was infatuated with him. He was in love...so much so that Hissrad did not even have to try to keep him in line.
He never asked about the scar on his shoulder. Didn't think it was important, maybe. Or he just didn't want to know.
Dorian glowed in his bed, ignorant, thriving under the attention Hissrad lavished upon him. He did his time in the bedroom and outside of it, keeping Dorian happy and complacent. Hissrad smiled at him in his bed, and felt nothing.
Dorian was never quite sure how to bring it up. He had been terrified for Bull’s life when he left, and since he had returned Dorian wasn’t sure how to discuss his fears, or if he even wanted to. He was quite sure he didn’t want to, sometimes, considering the fact he’d never seen soul marks on Bull’s body.
“Bull,” he tried once, as they lay tangled in the sheets. “What do you think of soulmates?”
“There are no soulmates under the Qun,” Bull answered him, as he rubbed Dorian’s shoulder. The quick, rote answer made Dorian hesitate.
Bull must have seen his reaction, because then he sighed. “Dorian...listen. Just because I don’t have your mark...it doesn’t mean what we have doesn’t work.”
Dorian nodded, resigned. Bull took his hand. “Hey. Look at me.” Dorian reluctantly flicked his gaze to Bull’s face. “You’re my Kadan. Does it matter if your words aren’t actually on my body?”
Dorian’s face fell into a confused frown. “Well…”
Bull smiled at him, lifting a hand to stroke tenderly at his face. “I care for you,” he whispered. “You are my heart.” Dorian swallowed harshly, feeling emotional at the unexpected turn their conversation had taken. “Isn’t that enough?”
Dorian nodded, smiling shyly. “Yes, of course, Bull, but--”
“But?” Bull asked, solemn.
“I thought...what you said to me when you left...that was the last thing you said, I, I thought you--” Dorian took a deep breath. “I thought that you were my soulmate and that you were going to die.”
Bull’s face was unreadable for all of two seconds, before a tender smile transformed his features.
“Dorian,” he said. He gathered Dorian into his arms, laying kisses wherever he could reach. “Kadan. The words on your back are fairly common ones, and I’m certain others will say it to you.”
Dorian’s heart fell before Bull continued. His lips brushed Dorian’s ear. “I’m certain I will say them to you.”
Dorian smiled. He was not totally at ease, but he felt...lighter, somehow. Bull could develop his marks, in time, he supposed. He shouldn’t be so picky, anyhow. He never thought he could even have a functional relationship as an adult, much less a soulmate. This was more than he had let himself dream of. Bull was more than he had dreamed of.
The Bull had hated Halward Pavus with a fiery vengeance, but Hissrad had to admit that his backwards methods of raising his son certainly made his own job easier now. Dorian was so starved for affection, so desperate for praise that it was ridiculous how simple it was to keep him happy. Call him “good”, assuage his fears that he would never be enough, and he was putty in Hissrad’s capable hands. It had not worked to mold him for his father--but Hissrad was ever so much better at getting in someone’s head. Without blood magic, too. Better for everyone this way.
The days and weeks passed in this way. A year went by, and Dorian watched. He was certain Bull must feel something for the Chargers on the anniversary of their death, but he never brought them up. He let Dorian pamper him and worship him in their bed, and he must have seen right through Dorian’s plan--“Ben-Hassrath”, as Bull was so quick to remind people--but he whispered “Kadan” as Dorian kissed him, and took him in his mouth. He felt safe and worshipped himself, though his aim had been to help Bull.
“You are helping me,” he rumbled in his deep voice. Dorian smiled.
“I hope so,” he whispered sweetly. He opened his mouth to say more, but Bull kissed him deeply before he could.
The Iron Bull. He was always giving him what he wanted.
The inquisitor eventually led them to victory, and Dorian and Bull celebrated like they always did--with alcohol and sex.
“I’ll have to return to Tevinter eventually,” Dorian said, quietly.
Bull nodded. “Yeah. I thought you might say that.”
Dorian sat up, sheets pooling around his waist. “Well? Is that all you have to say?”
Bull sighed, and sat back against the bed. He frowned as his horns scraped the headboard. “Dorian. What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me how you feel about it!” he demanded. “Do you want to continue this?” he gestured at them together in the bed. “Would you rather...rather we broke things off?”
Bull shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “No, kadan.”
“That relationship is still useful.”
“You’re my...well. The man I love.”
“A connection with the son of a prominent magister is a valuable one to have.”
“I want to have you, in whatever capacity I can.”
“Maintain your affair with him when he returns to Tevinter. Keep him in whatever capacity you can.”
Dorian’s expression softened. “Me too, Amatus. And I…”
He turned to fumble for a bag he had stuffed into his robes earlier. Bull watched him as he took two items from the bag and presented them for Bull’s inspection. “I took the liberty of having these made for us,” he whispered. “The dragon’s teeth? So we’ll always be together, no matter how far apart life takes us…”
The Bull smiled, so fond Dorian’s chest ached. “Not often people surprise me, Kadan.”
“Maybe they should try more often.”
The necklace had actually surprised him. Not that Dorian felt that deeply about him, but that he would research that particular custom and complete it for the two of them.
That he wanted them to remain close was good. This symbol of his affection would certainly prove useful. And it was a reassurance--he suspected nothing was amiss.
Dorian leaned forward to fasten the necklace around Bull’s neck and put the other on himself, then threw himself into Bull’s arms.
Hissrad caught him, as always.
Dorian had missed Bull awfully when he was away in Tevinter. Coming back to Skyhold as the ambassador from Tevinter had been the most exciting thing to happen to him in ages, and seeing where he had just come from that was saying something. He had missed many people in Ferelden, much as it pained him to admit it.
The inquisitor was not one of them, but he maintained a cool facade when faced with him. He had managed to seem like he didn’t still resent him for forcing that terrible choice for his lover those years ago. He would even go so far as to say he had been pleasant. He was nowhere near Ben-Hassrath lying status, but he had managed a few stretched truths.
Bull would have been proud of him.
“He’s happy I’ve returned,” he would later say of the Bull, referencing the huge hug he had wrapped him in. His chest had hurt slightly as Bull squeezed him.
“Nearly broke three of my ribs with that ridiculous hug,” he would scoff.
It was a slight exaggeration. He knew Bull would never hurt him.
“How have you been?” Dorian had asked him seriously once some of the fuss had died down.
“Good, Kadan,” he said easily.
“How are things...with the Qun?”
If the Bull noticed his pause he kindly didn’t mention it. “I’ve lost touch with the Ben-Hassrath.”
“‘Lost touch’?” Dorian repeated.
“Yes,” he affirmed. “They’re okay with me doing more work for the boss here. We’re good, though. They’ll get in touch when they need me.”
Dorian relaxed. “I have missed you terribly, you know,” he admitted softly.
Bull kissed him. “I know. I’ve missed you too.”
Dorian gasped, surprised, as Bull leaned over and grabbed a handful of his left buttock. “And that ass of yours too.”
Dorian couldn’t even be mad. He just laughed. “Oh, Amatus.”
“You remember your handkerchief?”
“I’m not allergic,” Dorian tried to say through his sniffles.
He had told Bull not to fuss, but he knew that if Bull stopped he would miss it terribly.
Even as he sneezed and Bull laughed in triumph, glad to be right, Dorian just shook his head.
“Let’s just move on, shall we?”
Hissrad was ready when she called on him to uphold his duty. This was his purpose. He took no joy when the Inquisitor cried out in shock at his betrayal, but neither was he sad.
Dorian...no. There was nothing there either. He advanced as his lover fumbled for his staff, backing up with a horrified look on his face.
“Nothing personal, bas.”
He spoke to Trevelyan but he felt Dorian’s gaze on him.
The scar on his shoulder burned. He lifted his axe.
The body was big, big like Bull had always been. Dorian couldn’t look at the cracked horns, one completely separated from his head and the other hung at an odd angle. The blood pooling under him seemed excessive. The face was too still, and yet the most relaxed Dorian had seen him.
He must have figured he might die here. The dragon’s tooth was still around his neck, Dorian’s claim there for all to see. For whatever that was worth, now.
“The Iron Bull must have been so proud of himself,” Dorian heard himself say. It was like listening to somebody else speaking. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. That it had happened.
Katoh, katoh, katoh…
“Kadan.” A bitter laugh tore itself out of his throat.
Katoh.
“I didn’t feel it,” Cole piped up. “There wasn’t any pain.”
“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian choked out. He felt his injuries finally as though he had experienced all the blows at once. He slid along the wall and sat down heavily.
No pain. The Iron Bull...had felt no pain.
No. Hissrad had felt no pain. The Iron Bull...had been gone a long time.
“I would notice if you were gone.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
As it happened, Dorian could not remember another he time had said those exact words to him, after that fateful day. Had that--oh, Maker. The Bull had been his soulmate.
The Bull had died on that trip, and Dorian had never even realized. Never stopped to think about what had happened to him when he left to deliver his report in person. Didn’t think about how odd it was that he’d had to do that, and how long he had been gone. Oh, he had been frightened at first, worried for his lover...but once he returned, he buried his gut feeling, his fears, and accepted the Bull into his bed. Accepted the Ben-Hassrath spy Hissrad into his bed.
He hadn't noticed Bull was gone.
“I just don’t understand how he could fight beside us for years, and just--”
Dorian stood, breathing heavily. “You never did understand what you did to him, did you,” he hissed.
Trevelyan narrowed his eyes. “Pardon me?”
“How can you stand there so clueless and ask why? Of course he betrayed you! You made him think the Qun was all he had!”
Trevelyan sneered. “Careful, Dorian, or I’ll think you were defending his actions.”
Dorian shook, so angry and distressed he couldn’t be still.
“I’ll let it go since I’m certain your world has been rocked as well, unless of course you knew this was coming.”
“No I did not,” Dorian got out through his teeth.
Trevelyan sighed, a noisy gust of air through his nostrils. “Sad, almost. That your soulmate did that to you.”
Dorian whirled, head raised.
“We all knew, Dorian, you know how people gossip,” he said tiredly. “This is...a discussion for later.”
“Or not at all,” Dorian said tightly.
Trevelyan nodded, features drawn tight. “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”
Dorian forced himself to look away as their party left.
Repeating “katoh” did nothing but make him more anxious, so he straightened up and touched at the tooth hanging around his neck. He tore the cord viciously, refusing to wince as it snapped as his skin.
He clenched it in his hand, relishing the sharp edges that dug into his skin. It hurt him, because he had failed to be careful.
He would not make the same mistake again.