Chapter Text
All Dracaena wanted after being cooped up in the War Room for hours was some fresh air. The Iron Bull getting his ass beat by Cassandra Pentaghast in the middle of the training yard was not what she expected to see when she stepped outside. By the time she’d gotten close enough to find out what was going on, Bull was on the ground clutching his stomach, and Cassandra just looked bored.
“Here,” The Seeker pushed the wooden implement she was holding- what looked to be a rug beater or a paddle of some kind- into Dracaena’s hands, “you can take over.”
Before Dracaena could ask what exactly she was taking over, she was gone. The bewildered Inquisitor blinked at Bull, who was staggering to his feet.
“What did you do?”
He dismissed the question with a slight ‘bah’.
“I made a comment about her swing that she took personally, but that’s not why she hit me in the first place. She was helping me with something.”
“By hitting you with a stick?”
“Qunari training exercise. Working out some fear.”
“By… hitting you with a stick?”
“Yeah. Haven’t needed it in a while, but that nightmare demon was…” He growled under his breath. “Big.”
Bull had, admittedly, not been at his best after they tumbled into the Fade. But then again, they were in the Fade. No one was expecting to be there in the flesh at all, much less fight a demon that was fear made manifest. He had always been very vocal about his discomfort with demons and their dwelling places, so really it was a miracle he’d kept a semblance of cool at all. He still made sure she got through the mission unscathed, like always, but he had been tense ever since. She supposed it was good that he was able to recognize and deal with fear in his own way, but she didn’t know how comfortable she was with beating it out of him.
He looked at her expectantly.
“Give me your best shot, Boss.”
She held out the makeshift weapon, hoping he’d take it from her.
“I don’t want to hit you.”
“I want you to hit me.”
“I think maybe you should just tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I think you’re being insensitive to my culture.”
He was so contrary sometimes. He pretended to be stern, but he still had that mischievous glint in his eye.
“In my culture we talk about our problems instead of hitting each other, Bull.”
“Alright, let’s compromise. Call it a cultural exchange.” He smiled that irritatingly charming smile and slapped his midsection, indicating where he wanted her to aim. “You hit me and I’ll talk about anything you like- one answer for every swing.”
She almost walked away from him- she didn’t have to put up with this kind of nonsense- but something in his expression gave her pause. He was dealing with something she didn’t understand. If it took her beating him with a stick to feel better, then…
“Fine.”
Dracaena planted her feet and tightened her grip on the handle, winding up. The Iron Bull grinned. The paddle cut the air with a whoosh and connected exactly between Bull’s stomach and ribs.
Smack!
“Can you explain to me how hitting you with this is supposed to help you master your fear?”
Bull gritted his teeth.
“Probably, but it would involve a lot of Qunlat.”
“Give me the short version, then.”
“I can’t afford to let fear stop me from doing what I need to do. What you’re doing now is… reminding me.”
She didn’t care for that much.
“How is punishing yourself supposed to help?”
“Ah ah ah, you gotta hit me first, Boss.”
Smartass. She hit him harder this time.
Smack!
He let out a little ‘oof’.
“Alright, what was your question?”
Dracaena rested the paddle on her shoulder, frowning.
“You didn’t punish me when I froze in that cave back on the coast. Why do you need to be punished?”
“You’re not a Qunari. That’s not what you needed. You’re also in charge of my salary.”
She didn’t even dignify that quip with a response.
“What makes you think you know what I need?”
Bull groaned, sounding genuinely annoyed this time.
“Less talking, more hitting.”
She didn’t give him much warning before the paddle was swinging again.
Smack!
“Hng!” If someone could smirk and grimace at the same time, he was doing it. “I’m a people person, remember?”
Dracaena was starting to think that hitting Bull repeatedly with a stick was going to be more cathartic for her than him.
“What makes you less deserving of kindness than me?”
“Kindness doesn’t kill demons, Boss.”
Smack!
“Are you afraid of demons, or are you afraid of not being in control?”
“What are you, a Chantry sister, now?”
“I thought I was the one asking questions.”
“Fine. Let’s say both.”
Smack!
“If I’ve learned anything in the past few months, it’s that control is a myth and we’re all just doing our best.” Dracaena placed the end of the paddle on the ground, leaning her weight on it. “You told me not too long ago that when I was feeling overwhelmed I could rely on my companions. On you.”
“I’m not hearing a question here, Boss.”
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she was trying to make a serious point and she didn’t want to undermine it.
“It’s a statement. I’m here for you, and the others are too. You might have been scared of that demon, but you still fought it, right? That’s real bravery, Bull. You’re a hero. You don’t need to beat yourself up for that.”
Bull threw up his arms, growling a little.
“Don’t be naïve.”
Dracaena didn’t know why that made her so angry, but she felt the rage boil in the pit of her stomach before it rose up through her ribcage. She felt her heartbeat in her skull. She set her jaw and swung the paddle again, aiming higher than she should have.
Bull’s eye widened for a second in surprise, but he was faster than she gave him credit for. He caught the paddle with his fist, stopping it before it could connect with his jaw. In one fluid motion, driven by what looked like pure instinct, he wrenched the tool from her grasp and whirled it around so it was pointed squarely at her chest. If they had been sparring, this is where he might have said ‘you’re dead’.
Her fury evaporated as they stared at each other for a long moment. What was this feeling that replaced it? She was shaking a bit. Fear, maybe? No, she wasn’t scared of him. It was more like excitement. In this moment, he was in control, and it was almost a relief. Her shoulders rolled back and she exhaled a long grounding breath.
Bull had let his temper get the better of him. He liked giving Dracaena a hard time, and quite frankly, he knew she liked it too, but snapping at her like that had not been his intention. This was the kind of thing that proved he still needed these kinds of exercises. He needed to be the master of his own mind. Her coddling wasn’t going to help with that, no matter how hard she tried.
She had surprised him, though. It wasn’t often that anyone surprised him, yet Dracaena seemed to do it almost every day, and he couldn’t figure why. He knew her well at this point. He knew what she liked, what she didn’t, what her values were, what she feared, all of it, and she still managed to blindside him. Even more surprising, now, was the look on her face. As soon as the paddle was pointed at her heart, Bull expected to be met with her usual stammering and fidgeting. She did look shocked initially, but it soon gave way to a long exhale and parted lips. Her pupils dilated. She wasn’t afraid of him at all, was she? She trusted him, maybe more than anyone, even at his mercy. She welcomed it. Worst of all, the sight of her looking at him with disheveled hair and submission in her eyes woke something primal in him that was difficult to ignore, and it went straight to his loins.
Well, fuck.
He laughed- a quiet snicker that soon grew to shake his whole body. Dracaena just stared at him with those big, dark eyes. She was probably as confused as he was frustrated. Bull coughed, gaining back control of his lungs.
“Good swing, Boss. You nearly got me.”
He tossed her the paddle and she plucked it nimbly out of the air, even in her befuddled state. He turned to leave, quite done with this exchange. He needed to process a couple of new revelations before she hounded him with any more insightful questions, or he was going to be in trouble. She clearly didn’t want him to leave, though.
“Where are you going?” She sounded breathless.
He saw no point in lying to her.
“I need a drink.”