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“If you’re nervous about demons, I can protect you.”
The Iron Bull was almost ready to smile at the Inquisitor's confidence and determination. These words sounded comical coming from the elf whose head barely reached his chest. From the elf who was constantly preoccupied with his own anxious thoughts and who himself needed protection.
“My blade pretty much protects me.”
***
Taking a sharp breath of the cold night air, The Iron Bull opened his eye. He felt a drop of sweat roll down his forehead, further to his temple and behind his ear, tickling his skin unpleasantly. The frantic, restless rhythm of his heart sounded loudly in his ears, reminiscent of drums. His hand reflexively reached to the side as he quickly rose to a sitting position, but he did not find the handle of the axe.
This wasn’t a battlefield.
Awareness of reality partially returned, though the qunari still didn't fully realize where he was, and the sense of danger did not recede. It was all just a bad dream... More accurately, it had all actually happened, but a long time ago. When he was in Seheron.
The qunari raised a hand to his face, wiping his watering eye in an attempt to drive away the remnants of the nightmare. To erase the blood-chilling images that were still fresh in his memory. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, regaining control of his emotions and thoughts. It didn't take long to pull himself together, The Iron Bull knew well how to deal with it. Ben-Hazrat training and all that crap. He had to resort to this often. Perhaps too often.
But a quiet sigh from the side had a much better effect on his peace of mind. The qunari turned his head. Yohas was sleeping soundly, lying on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest and one arm hugging his knees, while the other was under his head. It was lucky that the elf did not fall asleep on The Iron Bull's chest this time, otherwise he would have had an unpleasant awakening. There was absolutely no desire to wake him up, considering that the little one had hardly slept normally in the last month. He needed peace at least in his own bed.
The qunari gently adjusted Yohas's blanket, covering the bare, freckled shoulder. Fresh hickeys on the collarbones and rope marks on thin wrists are a reminder of how good they had it. It was just a couple of hours ago. The Iron Bull ran his fingers through the red hair, tucking it behind the pointed ear to see the elf's face. He just blinked, and the nightmare crept into his thoughts again, mixing with pleasant memories, forcing him to remember what had made him wake up in a cold sweat. The qunari closed his eye tightly, shook his head, driving away the only image that had never been on Seheron: Yohas's bloodied face with an empty gaze.
Shit.
Careful not to let the bed creak too much, The Iron Bull moved over and sat on the edge, his feet on the floor. He got his breathing under control again, focusing on the way the light draft from the open window chilled his skin. Cold is good, it sobers the mind. The qunari listened to the quiet rustling of the curtain and the calm breathing of the elf behind him. He shouldn't have given in to weakness. He couldn't allow himself to lose self-control.
Seheron left a mark on his memory that could not be torn out, scraped off, or cleaned out. It ingrained itself in his thoughts worse than rust on a blade. The Iron Bull had learned to live with it, and yet sometimes the memories would creep up and hit him during random triggers in waking life, but most often in his dreams. The qunari had long since become accustomed to blood, to wars, to death... but these memories had some special effect. Something broke in him then and it had affected him ever since.
Now he was also left without Qun that he believed protected him, and the nightmares became more frightening, mixing with his current worries. He felt more vulnerable, the familiar world had collapsed, and now he had become the one he had been taught to despise. Tal-Va-fucking-shoth. No system, no control. What if he really does go wild and crazy?
“Bull?..”
He didn't even notice when Yohas woke up. The qunari froze and, without looking back, said in a soothing tone:
“Keep sleeping, little one. Everything is fine.”
It was foolish to expect these words to have any effect on this elf. The blanket rustled. Tiny fingers touched The Iron Bull's back; they slid gently, almost ticklingly, from bottom to top along his spine. His heart fluttered strangely in response to the gesture. Yohas's fingers were almost always very cold, but that didn't matter now. The qunari didn't want this touch to stop.
The elf didn't ask any questions, didn't say anything at all, but there were many words in his silence. He was worried. And somehow, just his presence really did help.
For some reason, this reminded The Iron Bull of the first and only time they had actually quarreled. That day, when he had already been banished from Qun, and an assassin had attacked him on the wall of Skyhold. Before this, he and Yohas had had many discussions, including about Qun, but this time there was much more emotion involved. The elf's words were harsh and, what was most unpleasant, it was difficult to object to them. Now the qunari understood much better why Yohas was so angry, but then it seemed to him that the elf just didn't understand the importance of Qun, that he didn't understand his fear.
It was the evening of the same day, after they both had time to cool down a little. The Iron Bull sat in his usual spot at Herald's Rest, watching the Chargers have fun, but his own thoughts were elsewhere. He noticed a familiar red-haired elf in the crowd and was surprised, Yohas rarely came here. The elf sat down silently next to him, he still seemed a little irritated, but the qunari felt that this no longer applied to him personally. Yohas said nothing, looking at him intently and attentively. It was strange, but somehow comforting.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Boss?”
“I'm making sure you don't go crazy.”
He said it sarcastically, but his smile was warm.
The mattress creaked again as Yohas changed position. He must have been on his knees, because he was soon pressed against the qunari's back, hugging him around the neck. A pleasant shiver made The Iron Bull sigh as the elf's lips touched the bald crown of his head, closer to where his horns grew. Then there were a few more kisses, just as careful and leisurely, the last one stopping on the right cheek. Yohas rubbed his nose against the qunari's jaw like a cat and rested his head on his shoulder.
The elf was still silent, but The Iron Bull felt everything he wanted to say. The feeling of the tiny body on the back, the light tickle of breath on the skin, and unspoken words in the air. I'm here. I'm with you. They sat like that for some time, quiet and motionless. The qunari felt his heartbeat even out and his breathing became easier. But his thoughts still clung to the images of the nightmare, not allowing him to relax completely.
“Lie down,” the whisper warmed his right ear, and small fingers gently squeezed his shoulders. “Come on…”
After only a slight hesitation, The Iron Bull obeyed, allowing the hands to pull him back, although he still lay down carefully, trying not to crush the elf or catch him with his horns. His head fell onto Yohas's lap and their eyes finally met. There was no trace of blood on the elf's face, nothing else that was out of place. He was alive and even smiling softly at him. Everything was fine.
“Close your eye,” Yohas asked, immediately lightly touching the qunari's eyelid.
It was pleasant to lie like this, to feel the tiny fingers gently sliding over his cheek and the top of his head, smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead. This alone was enough for all the bad thoughts and memories to begin to recede. But when the qunari caught the soft hum, he felt goosebumps on the back of his neck and froze, afraid to disturb the moment. He definitely didn't know this melody, but something resonated in his memories, even when Yohas quietly began to sing the obviously elven words. His heart sank slightly, but this time it was completely different; it wasn't fear. The bloody nightmare was replaced by a woman's face, so familiar, so precious.
“Tama, I'm scared.”
“Keep sleeping, Ashkaari. You're safe here.”
He didn't dare move or open his eye, so as not to interrupt the elf under any circumstances. It wasn't just a song, The Iron Bull felt it. Something so personal, yet Yohas shared it with him. And the qunari lay there, listening to words he didn't even understand but which brought him peace.
After an unknown time the calm began to make him sleepy, and The Iron Bull didn't immediately realize when the elf's voice faded away again. He was in no hurry to open his eye. He wanted to linger in this moment a little longer. But his mind changed when a light kiss brushed the tip of his nose. They looked at each other, and it was funny how close their faces were now, and how they were turned upside down for each other. The qunari snorted, feeling the red hair tickle his nose and get a little into his mouth, so he rose and sat down differently, facing Yohas.
At any other time, The Iron Bull would have been happy to comment on the elf's nudity, say something a little dirty to him to make him giggle, and then leave a few more hickeys in addition to the old ones. But now he didn't want any of that. Yohas's sleepy, slightly disheveled appearance was charming and touching. The qunari reached out, tucking the red strands behind the pointed ear again:
“You are beautiful.”
The elf rolled his eyes, but his smile widened.
“Yeah… And you're big and silly,” he playfully flicked The Iron Bull on the tip of his nose with his finger and raised his eyebrows in surprise when his palm was gently caught. Yohas held his breath.
This gaze.
The first time the qunari had noticed it, back when, after the fall of Haven, he was comforting Yohas, who was shaking from everything he had experienced. Then something changed in the way they interacted, the elf began looking at him like that more and more often. And The Iron Bull liked it, even before he understood what exactly that gaze meant.
Yohas said nothing, but the qunari knew the three words that were on the tip of his tongue. Because in fact, it seems he wanted to say it himself. The Iron Bull, without breaking eye contact, brought the elf's hand to his lips and left a soft kiss on his fingers.
“Bull…” Yohas continued to look at him, but didn't finish his sentence. He'd never said it out loud, though he'd tried many times.
It felt like these words frightened him. The qunari didn't know why, but he knew he didn't need to hear them if everything was clear enough. And he decided that he too could show everything without words.
His fingers slid through the red hair. The Iron Bull leaned forward, allowing their lips to touch. He tried to make this kiss different from all the previous ones. Careful, without greed and not too long, but light and tender. He moved away slowly. Yohas blinked in confusion, then pressed himself against him, hugging him tightly around the neck, nuzzling his nose into it.
The tiny elf with sad eyes, whose head barely reached his chest; who feared so many things and needed protection. The same elf who had saved his Chargers and almost fought Gatt over it- The elf who was angry with him because he worried and wanted to prove he was ready to protect him from demons, from madness, from everything. The elf who really cared about him.
The Iron Bull had only one word in his head.
Kadan.