thearena | (no subject)

Who| The Iron Bull & Dorian
What| Scouting, comes across Dorian
Where| Just outside the DA cast's camp
When| Some time after this
Warnings/Notes| n/a

With the new addition to their camp, the Inquisitor who carried the same last name as Maxwell yet had no relation that they were aware of, Bull had decided to head out again for a few more rounds around the camp. It kept him busy, scouting around the areas closest for anyone wanting to try and sneak in on them. Not just other Tributes but the wildlife was also to be considered a threat.

One loop and another. Three. Each one brought him further and further out and then closer and closer in, making sure he trekked through the same path of snow to not disturb it, keeping an eye out for fresh tracks. Any indications of a possible ambush or worse.

Peeking back into the camp to report to the uh - the Inquisitors that everything looked good, his mental headcount showed that someone was missing. Still. And Bull decided then that it was time to try and convince Dorian to return, that it was probably a lot warmer by the fire and in the company of his companions, multiple Inquisitors or not.

If he had to drag him back kicking and cursing, well. Fine.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hadn't moved, from where Maxwell had left him, perched on his rock overlooking the river. He sat, enveloped in his grief, struck with an intense homesickness that he'd never felt for anything before.

Tevinter was something that he'd thought of often - that he wanted to change, wanted to make better. But he didn't long for it. He didn't miss it so pointedly that it made his stomach twist and his heart ache. Skyhold was home now, even though he'd already been determined to leave it.

Maker, but he was a fool.

He was cold, too. Even in the parka, the cold had settled into his bones and he was starting to shiver, but he was still too proud or too stupid to go back to camp, yet.

"I almost didn't see you there," Bull commented as he came to a stop, the snow packed down under each step. Dorian would've heard him, steps or not, the parka he was wearing kept making sounds every time he moved. "It's like you've become one with the rock."

Moving closer, Bull tapped his knife against the side of his thigh, pushing up his hat over his brow. How long exactly had Dorian been sitting out here?

It was getting cold and dark, it was dangerous to be out here alone. One of the main reasons why they all stuck together and usually moved as a group.

"I thought it could use redecorating," Dorian quipped, though he didn't move from his perch. He was almost too cold to move, at this point. "As I was the only thing even half-way good=looking around, I made do with the best that I had."

He did turn his head, eventually, however.

"Were you looking for something to eat? I think i saw something in the bushes a half hour ago."

"Actually, I was looking for you. But let me take a minute here to remind you that you aren't the only thing walking around the camp that's good looking."

Bull was talking about himself, although the same could be said for a few of their companions.

"Ah- Now that, I am forced to admit, is very true. But the camp was hardly in the direct vicinity at the time." He turned, to look at bull fully.

"So who sent you, then? Will there be a slow parade to my position if I do not return this time?"

"You don't think those red berries over there are nice looking?" Bull jerked his head over to where the bushes sat, red holly.

"No one sent me. I came on my own." His arms folded over his chest, the parka material rustling with the movement.

"Nice enough, but nicer where they are. They would be rather dwarfed, up here." It was almost lame, the way he said it - so obviously trying to talk about anything rather than the actual problem.

"That's almost worse," He replied, with a half-hearted laugh. "To even make the Iron Bull worry. I must be verging on the completely pathetic."

Slowly, he slid down the rock until he landed on the ground at the bottom, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing vigorously.

He shrugged a shoulder. "You weren't in the camp when I was doing my rounds the last time. Figured it was time to look around a little more; good thing too, must've missed you the first time because you almost blended in with that rock."

Bull had his reasons for coming out to try and find him.

Dorian sighed, still rubbing himself to get warm, but even he knew it was time to go back, so he padded up slowly toward Bull.

"I'm getting very good at my rock impression," He said wryly, "It's my ultimate strategy for surviving this blasted thing." He paused, and then sighed again. "No, forgive me, I merely - needed time to act the child, I suppose. I so dislike being wrong."

"You almost had me fooled, a Ben-Hassrath." Totally something to be proud of, Dorian.

"I'm going to guess you mean the new addition in camp. Not bad, if you really think about it." The Bull watched as his companion came toward him. "Would you want them here?"

Dorian's Inquisitor...

It was easy to know who exactly Bull meant, and he sighed, shaking his head as he joined him. "... No. I would not wish this place on anyone. I only--" He turned his head, frowning off somewhere in the distance.

"I had prepared myself. For the fact that he was dead. The idea that they could have him appear at any time, hold his very existence over my head as some sort of--" he cut himself off with a tsk, and turned back to give Iron Bull a wry smile. "I am, all in all, a weak man, I'm afraid. Grief really does not become me."

"Preparing for the worst lessens the outcome, that hardly makes you weak, Dorian. Everyone's tolerance for pain isn't the same, grief takes us in all different ways." Bull knew from experience as he had dealt with his own grief at losing his men in the only way he knew - drink and making sure he never spent his nights alone while during the daytime he preferred to be left to his own devices.

"You're allowed your moment of weakness just the same as anyone else."