Iron Chains

(( Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, also I will be sticking to mostly canon dialogue...but not perfectly. ))

She had a particular fondness for the Storm Coast. The unrelenting wildness of it all welcomed her. meshing with the smell of ozone. The rocky Ferelden seaboard stretched along a shelf of wet gray cliffs that were as dangerous as they were lovely. Hearty flowerless plants clung to rocky crags soaking up the never ending rain. Interminable waves lapped against the rocks that crunched under her boots. Rain came down in a wash that dripped from Lexara's horns and unto her armor. Electricity danced in the air and under her skin.

“You always manage to take us somewhere nice, Herald.” Varric pushed a lock of sopping wet hair out of his round dwarven face.

“Where else do you expect to find a mercenary group?” Lex tossed over her shoulder as she steadied her footing and crossed over the rocks.

Varric eyed her as they climbed another hill. “A warm tavern maybe?” he readjusted Bianca on his shoulder.

“With a pint,” Blackwall chuckled laconically through his sodden beard and hefted his Grey Warden shield to keep his back dry. “And a pretty lass.”

Her lips tugged upward at the corner as she tilted her gaze over to the bald elven male bedecked in green, standing out against Storm Coast's gray, “What about you, Solas? Lamenting for a warm tavern and a pint of the good stuff?”

Solas' forehead wrinkled as his bare feet traipsed across the ground, seemingly unaffected by the sharp bits of rock, “I'd settle for a good batch of tea, thank you. And a book if we are daydreaming.”

She laughed. The sound muted by the explosion of a fresh squall. She'd be damn sure that she gave the guys time when they got back. They deserved that. Oh, she had no intention of telling them that. Let them shiver and soak and comfort themselves with idle daydreams.

Her long legs carried her ever forward not bothering to think of cozy fires or pretty serving lads. She couldn't stop. Not now, not ever. The Breach in the sky was the ever-present reminder of why she was walking across unforgiving terrain in inclement weather. Oh sure, she kept a smile on her face and a joke on her lips. She had to deal with all of this somehow. But Lexara Adaar, Herald of Andraste, couldn't stop to enjoy a pint and a seat at the tavern.

As she made her way to the last rise before dipping towards the shore she heard a cry of the sound of wind and rain. She tilted her head to catch the sound across her ears. The cold wind carried distant sounds from the beach to the rise.

“We got a battle ahead boys.”

“Just when I thought things were boring,”

“Hush, Varric.” Lex said without any heat pulling her staff from its strap on her back. A tingling sensation grew along her skin as she prepared herself for battle. She summoned the storm that lived within her and brought it to boil just below the surface. It licked along her skin, causing the hairs on her arms to raise.

She moved quickly now, her powerful legs making short work of the last cliff. The storm made it hard to see who was fighting whom.

Blackwall was a blur of dark clothing as he vaulted over the cliffside and into battle. She felt the pinprick of energy to her left that was Solas calling upon his own brand of magic to protect the front-liner. The twang of Varric's crossbow cut through the heavy air and embedded itself in what she believed were Tevinter zealots.

Two weeks ago she would have had to call for that action. Now, they worked as a team, a unit. They were beginning to anticipate the needs of the others. She swallowed a moment of pride and arched her energy outwards in a clap of lavender electricity.

It was then that she got her first good look at the Iron Bull. He was Qunari, full blooded and horned. His laughter, proud and strong, joined the thunder. Broad muscular shoulders bunched as he swung a brutal looking axe. He wore even less armor that she did. A thick path to protect his swinging arm and heart, leaving the rest of his chest bare. He was a few shades lighter than the electricity that licked across her skin. One half of his face was covered in scars deep enough to ruin an eye, with only a metal patch to cover it.

The pirates smelled of sea salt and unwashed flesh. With that lethal swing The Iron Bull added the thick scent of copper to the air. He spun with more speed than a man of that height out to have and grabbed another raider with one large bare hand and threw him to the rocks. Water ran over the Qunari males bare flesh in rivulets highlighting the stark broad build of him.

“Breathe, Herald.” Varric said over the sound of battle. “Remember to breathe.”

“A lady is allowed to have a moment.”

Varric's crossbow gave another twang. “Naturally. Just make sure that moment doesn't get us killed.”

Lex turned her attention back to the battle. Most of the raiders were dead or dying, the rest were scattering. Iron Bull gave a nod to two of his people, an elf and a dwarf;who, in turn, slunk after the stragglers.

“Chargers!” His voice rang out over the battlefield the weight of leadership carrying it over the battle filled heads, “Stand down.”

They obeyed and sheathed their weapons, all of which were as varied as the rest of them. The Qunari strode forward towards a shorter round face male who had the olive skin and deep brown hair not so dissimilar from the dead bodies laying on the ground.

“Krem! How'd we do?”

The male came to attention and glanced quickly over the battlefield and to his superior. “Five or six wounded, Chief. No dead.” Krem's voice was delicate for a male's, but it was precise.

Bull placed his hands on his hips and gave a pleased nod, “That's what I like to hear.” He thrust his chin towards the elf and dwarf who were creeping back the main group. “Let the throatcutters finish up, then break out the casks.”

Krem nodded in affirmation before heading off to carry out his orders.

“Well, Herald. Aren't you gonna go talk to him?” Varrik teased, “You can ask him to dinner.”

“Stowe it, dwarf.” Lex growled.

She hadn't spent much time around unfamiliar Qunari. Oh, there were a few Vashoth mixed in with them, but most of those were dead, and most of them had run away from the Qun. Only her parents had ever told her anything about the people that she came from. The mercenary group that she had been raised with had been almost entirely human otherwise, with the odd dwarf and elf joining up from time to time.

Now she found herself gathering up the courage to venture down the rocky cliff to go introduce herself. Andraste's flaming knickers this shouldn't be so hard.

She made her way down the cliff and towards the slowly dying mayhem. “Iron Bull?” up close she could see that his smokey lilac skin was more gray than purple and marked by ivory colored scars, some more faded than others.

“Herald?”

Lex gave one quick nod.

He looked her over with one gray eye. She could only imagine what he was thinking. Oh, she knew what he was seeing. A Qunari woman, with skin closer to that of someone Tevinter born and bright purple eyes, eyes that matched the lightening she liked to toss about. He dark hair was pulled into a bunch at the base of her neck tucked between the curves of her nearly black ram-style horns. For a moment he showed no expression.

His face split into a wide grin, wrinkling the scars over his eye even further, and he let out another laugh. “Hah! Hot damn it's true! The Chantry must love you.”