aban_aqun | (no subject)

Bull looked back at the villa just once. It was a place of safety, of seclusion. It was a place where he and Dorian could forget everything that separated them for a few hours, a few days - a few weeks, if they were lucky. But Dorian was returning north, and for the first time, Bull was going with him.

He'd first made the offer years ago, insisting that he would follow Dorian anywhere: even to the heart of Minrathous. They'd both known how ridiculous the idea was at the time: a former Ben-Hassrath agent would be no safer in Minrathous than he would be in the heart of Qunadar. But after the attack, and the rescue, he'd quietly made the offer again. Bull knew he wouldn't be safe, but he wanted more than just fleeting moments. He wanted more than having Dorian in his arms, knowing they would have to part again.

He wanted.

His gaze trailed back forward, to Dorian, and everything in him softened. He'd changed in the last few years, he'd come into his own in a way that Bull had only seen glimmers of before. Bull felt his chest swell with pride. Of course he'd followed Lucerni politics as much as he could from beyond the border, and the reforms they pushed were nothing short of impressive. Bull wasn't actually surprised that the Venatori tried to kill Dorian, and he knew that traveling to the border and back made Dorian all the more vulnerable.

"Do we get to stay in fancy way-houses, since I'm traveling with a magister?" he asked, grinning. "Or are you going to camp now that you have a big Tal-Vashoth to set it up for you?"

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Dorian rides ahead astride a sleek black stallion looking every bit the magister he's become, despite being clad in his traveling clothes, which are far more reminiscent of what he'd worn during his time with the Inquisition than the robes that are the latest fashion in Minrathous. Still, the air about him is different. He has poise of a different sort than he once did; enough self-assurance to bring the Bull back to live with him without any pretense but that he is what his: Tal-Vashoth, his partner, and his lover.

Reins looped over the front of his saddle, Dorian's hands are busy tying his hair back as his horse lopes forward at a sedate walk. It's grown long, reaching past his shoulders when worn freely, dark and thick and with only the occasional gray, which Dorian is wont to deny anyway. He pulls it up before looping it around, securing it in a loose bun at the back of his head.

"And why not both?" he quips lightly as he picks up his reins, shooting a look at Bull over his shoulder that is both flirtatious and fond. "Surely I can watch you pitch tents and have a decent meal and a bath the next evening."

Dorian exudes both affection and confidence, even if he is as uncertain about this change as Bull is. He's longed for it, of course; to spend more time with the man he loves than the hours or days they can steal every few months. But it will be dangerous, and difficult, and they will have to contend with the very principles of Tevinter society.

Yet for Bull, he would do it. He would do anything.

Sometime in the last few years, Bull came across an asaarash - a breed of horse the Qunari use almost exclusively. It's hard to find an animal big enough to carry him, and when he saw it in some Rivaini market, he couldn't pass it up. He doesn't ride often when he's with the Chargers, so for the most part it's been a pack animal. But now he's glad to have it.

Bull finds himself briefly distracted as Dorian puts his hair up. He likes the long hair, in part because it means he gets to watch Dorian style it. It's far from the only thing that's changed about Dorian over the years.

He returns Dorian's warm look.

"There's easier ways to get me to grunt and sweat, kadan," he quips. It's easy to bury his concern while they're still alone, but, eventually, they're going to run into other people. He's thought of half a dozen different ways to mitigate a confrontation, including but not limited to professing to be a slave or something. Dorian would hate it, of course. Bull has always admired Dorian's principles, his desire to change the world. But some things happened slowly, and Bull wants them to at least reach Minrathous alive.

Still, he also feels sorry for anyone that might attempt a confrontation. Dorian has a tongue like razor wire and all the authority of a magister now.