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“Inquisitor! Welcome back.”
“My Lord, a word?”
“—Your Worship?”
“If I may address you, ser?”
Sulahn tries his best to hide his wince as a parade of voices clamber into his head at once. He’d barely set two steps into Skyhold’s gates and already he noted at least four people wanting to speak to him.
But, he was ready. Sulahn knew this was coming. He wanted to be the hopeful optimistic and think no one would need his help immediately upon returning but, after working as the Inquisitor for the last few months, that optimism started to die down. He’d already all but perfected what Varric liked to call his “Orlesian face.” No signs of anything wrong, no hint of a haunting last week in the Hissing Wastes, no problems: just a bright smile and a willingness to help. He was their Lord Inquisitor.
He was their Herald of Andraste. Their hope .
And even Sulahn recognized how disheartening it might be to see your entire hope of the future arrive home from a mission bruised and with a pounding headache.
Sulahn took a breath, subtly, before flashing a winning smile. He was about to recite his excuse, that he needed to immediately write a report of the mission and he would be sure address each of their concerns if they would just wait outside the War Room for but a moment —
“Ah, you’ll have to excuse us, folks. Important business to attend to, and all that.”
Sulahn blinks, gaze moving downward as Varric stepped forward to address the growing crowd.
“It’s been a long few days, and we actually really need to eat something besides dry rations.” The Iron Bull speaks up, smiling gently from Sulahn’s right side.
“Quite right.” Dorian hums, sauntering up behind Sulahn, close enough to nudge him forward—to which Sulahn complied, stunned, unable to fathom what was happening right now. “Beauty like this doesn’t keep up naturally, you know. Even the Inquisitor needs a bath once in a while.”
The needy crowd smiles and chuckles amongst themselves as Sulahn’s face lights up with a blush. Was Dorian talking about him ? Like that? In front of all these people?
Sulahn looks over to make some sort of attempt to set his teammates straight, because what were they even doing? But before he could even try, Dorian prods the Inquisitor’s back with his staff, making him scoot forward with a small yelp of protest.
“Dorian, please!”
“Don’t let him, Sparkles.” Varric sighs, flanking Sulahn’s left. “If you let your eyes off him for even a second, he’ll run off somewhere to start chatting up the guards or some shit.”
Sulahn’s mouth clamps shut. “I… I like them to know that they’re important, Varric. Because they are! Plus, Richard on the night watch told me his wife is expecting, and I want to know if—”
“Or,” Iron Bull cuts in, smile growing, though there was something fiery in his eye. “he’ll get scooped up by the Commander for some crazy bullshit that needs his immediate attention.” The Qunari moved up to Sulahn’s left shoulder, armor brushing against the mage’s coat. A courier Sulahn hadn’t noticed was approaching faltered slightly, and Bull sent her a look so fierce she excused herself and insisted she would come by another time.
Sulahn sputtered, faltering as he watched her retreat. “Ah, Bull, I could have at least taken whatever she was going to deliver… It could have been important.”
“You know what else is important?” Dorian exclaimed from behind Sulahn, nudging him again with his staff. Sulahn scuttles forward. “ Sleep , in a real bed. And food that doesn’t smell like wet Druffalo. And Maker above , all of us need a damn bath—I think I brought sand back from the Wastes in my trousers.”
Sulahn’s eyes dart around his companions as they march toward Skyhold’s grand staircase. And as they continued to shoo those who approach but somehow keep Sulahn from slipping away, the situation eventually sank in.
He was trapped.
With no strength to command choice in the matter, soon the Inquisitor was ushered up Skyhold’s steps, and every attempt anyone made to talk to him was deflected by his shield of companions. Even Josephine, who stepped out of her office and to greet him with a smile and a question about their mission, was blocked from Sulahn’s view by the Qunari between them.
“Sorry, the Boss has to get some rest.” Bull said simply, not even letting Sulahn stop to talk, to explain .
Josephine blinks, standing in the doorway with her readied notes in one arm. “Oh. Of course. Rest well, your Worship.”
The Ambassador moves back into her room, leaving Sulahn in stunned silence. She just… let him go? Just like that?
As if reading his mind, Varric clears his throat, opening the door to the stairwell leading up to Sulahn’s room. “Amazing what happens when you actually act like a person. With mortal needs like sleep.”
They step in, and Sulahn stops as the door closes behind him. The familiar stairwell was still slightly broken down, but those spider webs had finally been cleaned up, and the raven that usually greeted him was missing from her usual perch.
It was as if a switch was flipped in his brain. Sulahn could still hear the bustle of Skyhold below, but it was muffled and, more importantly, cut off from him. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, raising a hand to rub the temples of his forehead. Immediately he winced—the throbbing was getting worse. Creators, was his head really hurting like this the entire time?
Varric and Bull moved away from him, exchanging concerned glances.
“Tiny, Sparkles,” Varric started slowly, propping his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna go see if I can get some food sent up. You like ham, right Inquisitorio? Ah, everyone likes ham.”
Varric, you’re a saint. Sulahn thinks with no small amount of gratitude.
The dwarf marches off, shutting the door softly behind him—a move that somehow furthered the pressure in Sulahn’s head.
Sulahn almost didn’t notice the gentle hand reaching up to caress his cheek.
“Maker, Sulahn. You really are a bloody pain sometimes, you know that?” Dorian sighs, dark eyes soft under the torch light.
Sulahn lifts his gaze, eyes fluttering as he feels his body begin to relax under Dorian’s touch—no meetings to attend to, no letters to respond to with careful literacy, no prying eyes or judgmental mouths to gossip…
His own hands rose to meet Dorian’s, a gesture that succeeded in making the other smile.
“I apologize, I… I hadn’t realized…” Sulahn started, but Dorian shushed him, kissing his cheek before resting their foreheads together.
From behind him, heavy arms slipped around Sulahn’s tiny waist, and Bull leaned down to kiss his head. Sulahn hummed, reveling in the affection they’d hardly had time for during the mission.
“Bull—”
“Save it for later, Boss. Right now you need to sleep. How long have you been nursing that headache?”
Sulahn flushed. Dorian pulled away, amusement painted over his face, as Sulahn leaned back into Bull’s chest and looked up.
“First of all, how did you know…?”
A chuckle. “Please, Boss. Qunari spy, remember?”
Sulahn couldn’t help but smile. “… I’m not sure when it started. The last few days have sort of been… a blur.”
“ Sort of?” Dorian scoffed. “We spent ten days traveling to and from that wretched place, and I can’t even count the number of Red Templar raids we hit. Not to mention the night we spent in that decrepit old tomb.” He shivered. “So many spiders.”
“Regardless,” Bull interjected. “You’ve been hurting, and you didn’t tell anyone— didn’t tell us .”
It warmed Sulahn in a funny way he was still getting used to, having these two so openly worried for him.
“It… didn’t seem important at the time.” Sulahn tried, and when he received no responses from either party, he nervously glanced between them. “A little headache was hardly worth mentioning after Dorian was...” Sulahn gulped. The memory rushed back to him, a pounding behind his eyes: Dorian raising his staff, about to hex the corrupted Templars assaulting Bull. Sulahn glancing over after he and Varric simultaneously downed a warrior, and then that terrifying splash of blood, Dorian hitting the ground hard .
The thought made Sulahn shiver, squeeze the hands that rested over his hips. Dorian and Bull met eyes, a silent conversation between only them— Sulahn still wasn’t sure how they did that, and quite honestly it usually irked him when they did this around him, because it was usually about him.
“I know you’re fine now,” Sulahn tried, before either of them could say anything. “The lyrium didn’t poison you, my magic stopped the bleeding, but…”
“No buts, amatus .” Dorian hummed, perching his hands on his hips. “Just as you said, I’m fine.”
“ And that doesn’t change that you’ve been hurting.” Bull huffed, hands double the size of Sulahn’s pressed gently into the elf’s stomach, a move that was threateningly close to his ribs. Which, unfortunate or not, Dorian and Bull had discovered fairly early in their relationship how sensitive he was there, how easy it was to get him laughing and squirming with just a touch.
The proximity alone put Sulahn on edge just enough to let his guard down to the real threat. Dorian smirked, stepping away at the same moment that Bull shifted his grip down, easily scooping the lanky elf up into his arms. Sulahn’s gasp was accompanied by a wild scrambling of limbs. Even though he knew in his heart Bull would never drop him, his instincts kicked in, and within seconds his face was inches from the Qunari’s, and his arms wrapped firmly around broad shoulders.
Faced with one extremely pleased eye and a wide, toothy grin, Sulahn could only laugh, a light sound that echoed in the corridor.
“You know you can just ask , you two don’t have to make this such an endeavor.” Sulahn managed through his chuckles, relaxing some when he had convinced his tired brain he wouldn’t fall. “I am more than happy to be lifted by a strong man or two.”
“That’s just it my dear, if it’s you, it’s always an endeavor. In the best way, of course.” Dorian clicked his tongue, stepping aside and grandly gesturing to the stairs.
Sulahn, resigned to his fate, leaned his head against Bull’s chest, letting the last little ghost of worry leave his lungs. He would have no chance of getting much work done tonight with these two hovering over him-- not that he minded. The practical part of Sulahn demanded he use the last bit of daylight to write up the report of their mission, but the very mortal and very, very in love part of him said that could wait until the morning.
Bull tilted his head down, a glance, must have noticed the elf’s sigh, but didn’t comment.
Sulahn answered him anyway. “I’m fine.” His voice was small, but not weakly so. He could feel his body relaxing, finally releasing all of the tension of the last week and a half of travel and fighting and endless sand. “Watch the books,” Sulahn said helpfully, just as Bull barely managed to avoid ramming into a stack of tomes Sulahn had “forgotten” to return before he left.
“Thought we left the dungeon traps behind when we left the desert, Boss.” Bull grumbled with no small amount of affection, now easily strafing around the other piles of miscellaneous items guarding their path to the bed.
Bull turned his body to rest Sulahn on the bed, and in doing so Sulahn finally caught a glimpse of Dorian trotting up the stairs, nose pointed upwards.
“Darling, we have cabinets for a reason .” The magister huffed, bending at the hip to pluck the scarf Sulahn had left at the peak of his linen mountain. “I’m quite frankly shocked the servants didn’t take care of this earlier.”
“I told them not to.” Sulahn chuckled, watching Dorian toss the scarf aside onto the couch. “I like my piles, they’re organized.”
“It’s a rather messy existence.”
“Nobody will see it.”
“Except us . Are we nobody, then?” Dorian insists, pausing in front of a stack of notes haphazardly stuffed into various books. Before Sulahn can answer, the altus gasps, swiping the tome from the top and holding it up, pointing to it dramatically. “I’ve been looking for this for weeks, you little thief!”
Sulahn, struck with the tiniest pang of guilt, poorly attempts to hide his amused smile behind his hand. “I, I’m not a thief, vhennan . I needed that for some research.”
“ So did I .” Dorian growls harmlessly, stomping over to the bed and letting the tome fall with a puff of dust onto the sheets. This makes Dorian’s moustache twitch and Sulahn release a loud, unrelenting laugh.
“Think this is funny, do you?” Dorian crosses his arms, leaning forward, not at all threateningly, over the prone elf.
"Oh, yes." Sulahn grins without a hint of malice or regret. "Though, for the record, I do apologize."
"I suppose I can forgive you this once." Dorian muses, turning swiftly on his heel to head for the armoire. While the altus digs through the folded shirts and trousers, mumbling something to himself about cleanliness and organization, the mattress dips slightly with Bull's weight.
Sulahn would always be impressed that, large and terrifyingly strong as the Qunari may be, Bull also had a tender, careful way of handling his partners. He reaches over, a satisfied smile on his face, and begins unlacing Sulahn's boots. The touch nearly melts Sulahn right into the bed, a long, exhausted sigh leaving his lungs.
Just as the beat up leathers hit the floor, a long quilted robe is unceremoniously tossed over to him, and with Sulahn's fatigue-induced sluggishness, just ends up catching it with his head.
"Strip, put that on." Dorian commands with all the authority a love-struck but still firm partner can have.
"Oh? And I thought you wanted me to rest." Sulahn giggles, already shimmying a shoulder out of his sand-ruined blouse.
Dorian stops in his tracks, brows raising. At the same time, Bull barks out a laugh.
"Darling as much as I would love to ravish you, we're disgusting. We all need a bath. Maybe two."
Sulahn notices vaguely his headache waning a bit, though the dull throb in his temple was still consistent and just added to his sleepiness. "A little dirt never stopped us before." The elf hums, tossing his shirt to join the boots on the floor. He quickly gathers up the robe and dons it, sighing as the clean, plush linen immediately warms his skin.
“Well, aren’t you in a mood.” Bull chuckles, his hand grazing over the cloth as Sulahn passes by him. “Sure you don’t wanna keep that off?”
“ Bull. ” Dorian growls. “Bath. Now.”
It takes some more encouraging– or in their case, teasing– to get them all cleaned up. Sulahn takes extra pleasure in spending the entire time it takes him to wash, dry and braid his hair in front of the mirror completely naked, spying the way his partners stare lovingly from the tub.
Every towel in the room is soaked and there’s sand and suds everywhere, but eventually as evening crawls closer, the three end up in their bed. At some point Varric had delivered that promised ham, as well as several loaves of bread and some very pungent cheese that Dorian seemed to love. Bull dug out a bottle of Ferelden wine he had hidden under Sulahn’s desk and was able to drink about half of it before Dorian snatched it up to get a sip of his own.
With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, Sulahn sets the hearth ablaze, casting the room in warm firelight. He smiles wistfully, settling back down onto Bull’s lap and lets the qunari feed him a bit of cheese.
“This is wonderful.” Sulahn sighs.
“What a concept!” Dorian throws up his hands in faux astonishment and Sulahn rolls his eyes. “Food, rest, affection, a bath– we should do this more often!”
“Hush.” Sulahn giggles. “You make it sound like I’ve never taken a break.”
That comment had both Dorian and Bull staring in bewilderment at him, and the sudden attention had Sulahn’s face flush bright red.
“I’m– I’m not that bad!” Sulahn protests.
“Maker, he’s delusional,” Dorian places a hand on his chest, aghast.
“Don’t you remember the last time you had a break like this, boss?” Bull muses with a grin.
Sulahn purses his lips together. “Not…exactly.”
“Right. Because you had a concussion and several broken ribs.” Bull reaches over and clasps his hands around Sulahn’s chest, leaning over to look down into his eyes. “Memory ain’t so good when your head gets shoved into a brick wall.”
“Uhg. Okay. You might have a point.”
They find rest together after that, occasionally shifting spots over each other, though Bull tended to be the one laid upon when they were just cuddling. Soft, chaste kisses were exchanged between the three. Soon, Dorian was the first to drift off, snoring lightly, his arms wrapped around Bull’s right arm. Sulahn was close behind, barely able to keep his eyes open as Bull combed his fingers through the loose hairs in Sulahn’s braid.
“Fine,” Sulahn mumbles, finally closing his eyes. “We can do this more.”
“Hm.” Bull agrees, letting his own eye shut. “Glad you’re finally seeing reason, kadan. ”
Just before sleep took him, Sulahn realized with relief his headache was finally gone. Huh. Maybe taking breaks was more important than he thought.