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Being forced to be a bystander was officially one of The Iron Bull's least favorite things ever. Watching the love of his life, his kadan, face to face with the original darkspawn was chipping away at his carefully controlled composure and sending him into a panic.
The Herald was already exhausted from the months of stress and pain, not to mention the suped-up dragon they had just taken down.
He watched helplessly as Sken restrained the darkspawn with his magic from behind the barrier that the Inquisitor had built with the anchor's magic. He couldn’t see very well through the wall of green magic but he could hear Corypheus yelling in classic villain style before a large explosion detonated inside the barrier. The magic held, but only for a moment. The green wall shattered and nearly threw Bull off the mountain with the force of it. He caught himself on a broken pillar and clung on for dear life.
Eventually, the dust settled.
Bull blinked open his eyes and rose to his feet, clumsily. He hurriedly brushed the rubble off his shoulders and looked towards the large crater for his kadan, and there he was. Curled up on his side, left arm tucked against his chest, Bull could see the blood pooling onto the ground from here.
He started running, his bad leg damned to the fade. His blood was pounding in his ears as he reached Sken's side, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the amount of blood up close. There was a sickly hissing sound and faint green smoke rising in wisps from his mangled arm. The man was trembling from head to toe, curled in on himself.
Bull leaned over him, afraid to touch, lest he hurt him even more.
“Kadan?? Can you hear me?”
A broken sob reached his ears, Sken's eyes fluttered open.
“Bull?” He choked out, tears starting to leak out of the corners of his eyes, running down his face.
“I’m here,” Bull whispered, unable to resist at least trying to comfort him, Bull bent down to pick him up. Sken choked, spitting blood out on the ground, and reached for his lover weakly with his good arm. Bull lowered him onto his lap, despite being as gentle as he could, Sken was still whimpering in pain by the time he was done moving him.
With the change in position, Bull could finally get a good look at Sken's face, and he nearly recoiled in horror. The left side of his face was covered in green veins snaking their way across his cheek, chin, and forehead; they were pulsing with light in time with Sken’s uneven breaths. Even the white part of his eye was turning an unpleasant gray-green. The veins of light traveled down his neck and under his ripped and torn collar. Casting a glance back down at his arm, Bull saw that the veins of green magic were coming from the anchor on his hand, or what was left of it.
Several of his fingers had been blown off at varying lengths and he was pretty sure that he could see Sken’s forearm bone under the stripped and fried muscle; there wasn’t really any skin left to speak of below his elbow.
Bull stared at the broken and smoking remains of his kadans once well-muscled arm, he couldn’t seem to tear his eye away from it. A small hiccuping sob brought him back to reality and he looked back towards Sken's face, he blanched. There were renewed tears running down his face, the ones coming from the left eye were pinkish from the blood mixed in. Bull watched in horror as his love turned his face into Bull’s chest and started to sob loudly, gasping for air in between cries.
Now Bull was really panicking, he was at a complete loss for words, he couldn’t think of any that would even remotely make this better. He looked up and around them, noticing for the first time that they hadn’t been found yet. They were alone and there was nothing he could do to ease his lover's pain.
The horrible sound of sizzling made him look down, Sken’s arm was glowing again, the smoke drifting off of it had increased.
The crying was getting louder. Each pulse of the magic-making his love shudder and wail in pain. Bull did the only thing he could do and held him close, stroking his hair. The reality of the situation hit Bull like a charging dragon; there was no way Sken was going to live through this. Even with the sophisticated healers the inquisition offered, The herald's blood was thoroughly coating Bull and the ground below them, he had lost and was still losing so much blood, it was astonishing that he wasn’t already dead.
Bull buried his face in Skens hair, his crying was growing quieter. The qunari couldn’t decide if that was a relief or not. Before he could think about it more, a sharp voice cut through the air.
“Inquisitor! Are you alive!?”
That was Cassandra, nearby, Bull cleared his throat.
“UP HERE!”
Sken flinched at the sound, and Bull immediately ducked down, petting at his hair once more. “Sorry, sorry.” Sken gripped Bull's wrist weakly with his intact arm, turning his face once again to choke out another sob. Bull wrapped his arms around Sken as tight as he dared, hoping to preserve a little of his kadans dignity, even though he was sure he wouldn’t care at this point. Bull also pulled the herald's cape off, covering his arm gingerly with it. No reason for the entire world to see what had become of him.
The sound of boots running and metal clanking drew Bull's attention, Cassandra and the others were running towards them. Bull put out a hand to keep them from drawing too close. They halted at his gesture, Varric was the first to speak.
“Is he..?”
“No, but I doubt he’ll last another 20 minutes.” Bull hated the steely way he said it, hated the way he had accepted it so fast. He looked back at the group, all of them looking about as lost as him. “Dorian.” Bull addressed the normally composed man, he looked quite shaken at the moment. “Is there any way we can...ease his pain? It won’t be long.” It took a moment for Dorian to respond, the mage seemingly swallowing quite a lot of emotion. He approached the pair slowly, kneeling beside them.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything we can do?” Dorian asked pleadingly.
Bull moved the cloth covering Sken’s arm gently, enough for Dorian to see the damage. The mage sucked in a breath, averting his eyes. Bull didn’t blame him, it was a grisly enough sight to see on a regular person, let alone a close friend.
Bull watched with glazed eyes as Dorian cast a spell, letting the magic soak into the herald's skin. Sken relaxed in Bull's arms, his breathing evening out slowly. Dorian stood back up and approached the others again, seemingly explaining the situation to them.
Bull ignored them, focusing back on the slowly dying man in his arms. Now that he wasn’t worried about hurting him with every breath, he adjusted Sken in his arms, wrapping his frayed and damaged cape around him. The Inquisitor opened his eyes blearily, looking up at him under his tear-soaked lashes.
“Hey, Kadan,” Bull said softly, leaning in. Sken opened his mouth slightly but no sound came out. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it? Squeeze my wrist once for no twice for yes.” Sken weakly gripped his wrist and squeezed once. “That's good, just focus on me,” Bull murmured softly, stroking a hand down his kadans face. Sken closed his eyes tiredly and leaned into Bull's chest.
Cassandra appeared at Bull's shoulder, speaking low and without any of her usual ire.
“Do you think we have time for us to say goodbye?”
Bull looked up at her, surprised to see tear tracks in the dirt on her face.
“Probably, he’s not really coherent though.” He answered honestly.
“There might be...something left that will hear us,” Cassandra said, placing a gentle hand on Sken’s forehead.
Bull nodded, politely refraining from listening as Cassandra leaned in and whispered a few words close to the Inquisitor's ear. She stroked a hand through his hair a few times before leaving. Bull pretended he didn’t see the fresh tears leaking out of her eyes.
Bull waited patiently as each of the inner circle had their turn saying goodbye to the Inquisitor that had led them through this exhausting year-long war.
Vivienne, stoic despite the tears on her face, knelt beside them and offered another pain-relieving spell, taking Sken’s good hand momentarily before leaving.
Varric sat next to them, wiping his face hastily.
“Don’t worry Fireball, I’ll make you sound really good when I write your story.” The dwarf offered before falling silent. After a moment he got up again. “I’ll make sure no one forgets you,” Varric said as he left.
Solas stood beside them for what seemed like only a few moments, offering a mere “Thank you” in a hoarse voice before moving on.
Sera was being supported by Blackwall, the elf knelt down by them and seemed to be restraining herself from hugging the pair of them. She didn’t say anything, just laid a hand on Sken’s good forearm while tears poured down her face. Blackwall sat back on his heels, leaned in close, and said a few things to the man in Bull's arms, things Bull couldn’t hear over Seras sniffling. When he was done, the supposed gray warden gently pulled Sera up by an arm and led her away, Bull could still hear her crying as they left.
Cullen and Leliana came by together, promising to inform Josephine of what had happened, as she was not present in the battle. Leliana stood by soberly while Cullen, in an uncharacteristic moment, took Sken's hand and squeezed it briefly before letting go and moving on.
Dorian knelt by them again, seemingly lost for words. The mage sat there for a few minutes, just clutching the Inquisitor's hand. He finally opened his mouth and addressed Bull.
“We’ll let you have the rest of his time,” Dorian said in a shaky voice. “...I’ll just be down the hill if you need anything.” Bull nodded at him, and with that, the mage departed after the rest of the inner circle.
Bull turned his head and looked to the last remaining member.
Cole approached cautiously, looking lost in thought. He sat down cross-legged next to them, swallowing nervously.
“His light is..fading..but I can still hear some things.” He said in his vague way. “He’s confused, but not in pain any longer. I think he heard all the things the others said.”
Bull breathed slowly before turning to the kid.
“Thank you, Cole.”
Cole nodded. “He loves you...so much. He doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t stay any longer.”
Bull nodded in understanding, lowering his head so he bumped foreheads with his kadan. He heard the sound of Cole walking away next to him.
The Iron Bull let the tears that had been threatening to spill out since the explosion, fall. He pulled Sken up so he could feel his weak breath on his neck, wrapping his arms around the fragile man. Bull couldn’t find any profound words to say and instead settled for repeating “I love you” in common and in qunlat over and over.
The qunari almost thought he heard a reply from the man in his arms, right before he felt the warm breath on his neck, falter and stop.
Bull squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears flow freely.
~~~~~~
Krem stood with the chargers and a good number of foot soldiers at the bottom of the mountain. They had fought well, with no casualties to the company and no major injuries. His attention was pulled away from them to the sound of people approaching.
Commander Cullen was leading the Inquisitions inner circle down the slope, Krem managed to catch the Commander's attention when he neared.
“Commander? Do you need our help with anything? We’re in good condition.”
The Commander considered him for a moment before nodding.
“Clear the way, please.” He said in a defeated voice.
Krem didn’t question the order, getting the company to drag debris and bodies out of the way to make a clear path. When they had finished, Krem started looking around. The entire inner circle and the inquisitor's advisors were here, save the diplomat. Krem had expected the chief to be around, worry struck him at once. The Commander would have mentioned it if the chargers captain had fallen in battle, surely.
Before Krem could worry himself into a panic, he caught sight of a figure making its way down the hill. Relief filled him, those horns were unmistakable.
The relief was short-lived, however, when Krem saw that the chief was carrying what was undoubtedly a body, wrapped in a small cloth. A sense of shock tore through him when he realized that the only one missing from the Inquisition's best warriors, was the Inquisitor himself.
As Iron Bull got closer Krem knew he had been right, the metal on the body was a distinct white underneath all the blood. The Inquisitor's signature color.
As Krem watched his captain walk past, the rough look on his face made Krem blanch and then shocked him again when he got close enough to see the shine of tears on his face.
Krem could only watch, speechless, as the chief walked past with the body of his lover and arguably the most important person of the age.
The inner-circle followed behind Iron Bull solemnly, leaving the soldiers to wonder, what were the last moments of such a powerful figure like?
~~~~~
The next few days were not happy ones, as they should have been. The Iron Bull lived through bombardments of questions from every turn. He did his best to preserve the privacy of the late Inquisitor, however, he spun the story though he wished he could say the real thing was painless.