Run Home Chapter 25 - Hold The Runner
Dragon Age - Little League AU | The Iron Bull x f!Lavellan | Chapter Rating - M
Hold The Runner: When a pitcher throws the ball to a base to keep a base runner from taking too far of a lead.
"So," Bull starts, "how did things go with Dust? You seemed pretty happy when I got home."
Krem is quiet for longer than Bull expects, looking down at his homemade rice pilaf like it’s confusing him.
"It was… hard. But good? It was good, I think." His expression shifts from confused to thoughtful, and he ends his sentence with a firm nod.
"I'm glad. You don't have to tell me what you talked about, but if you decide you do, I’m always here to listen."
Krem nods again and goes back to eating his rice. Bull follows suit and they sit in companionable silence, a far cry from the angry, sullen silence of the day before. Shit, has it only been a day? He feels like it must have been weeks ago, but no, only a day ago Bull’s life had felt like a nightmare. Admittedly this morning was pretty nightmarish, but tonight, with the sense memory of Dust relaxing into his hands, Bull isn’t so sure he’s not dreaming.
"I told her I'm trans." Krem says. "And I told her about my par- the people from Tevinter."
It takes every ounce of willpower not to freeze with a fork full of food halfway to his face.
Nope, not dreaming, not even a demon would come up with something that wild.
It’s not the trans part that’s surprising. In fact, he’s more surprised that Krem hadn’t told her beforehand. The kid is private, but he lives his truth, something Bull has loved about Krem from day one. But talking about his biological parents? Bull can count on his bad hand how many people Krem has talked about them with. Or he could, until now.
“Okay,” Bull says, brain cycling through a dozen different responses. “That’s a pretty tough subject for you, how are you feeling after talking about it with Dust?”
Krem takes another bite of food and Bull tries to sit patiently while he’s practically buzzing with adrenaline and speculation. Dust must have reacted… positively? Negatively? What in the Void was the right response to a conversation like that? Shit, no wonder she had needed someone to hold her for a minute - he knew how painful the story was to hear, especially from Krem.
“I feel… good? No, not good. Not bad either, but not good. Ugh, I don’t know Pop, it’s hard to describe.”
“Yeah, I’m sure, I’d probably have a hard time with it myself.”
Bull would definitely have a hard time explaining just how much he hates Krem's parents. There are very few people in the world that Bull truly hates, but Krem's biological parents top the list. If it were up to him they’d both be dead, and he wouldn’t lose so much as a minute of sleep over it. But for Krem’s sake, and for the sake of his little sister still living with them back in Tevinter, they’re both still alive and well.
Bull had to pull enough strings for a symphony to get the Aclassis set up so that Krem’s sister didn’t end up in foster care or one of the Black Chantry’s children's homes. If it weren’t for Dorian’s friend Maeveris he’d never have been able to make it happen - even Madame de Fer’s reach stops at the Tevinter border.
And if Krem’s father now works for Maeveris, and if Krem’s little sister thinks Magister Tilani is the most beautiful and glamorous woman in all Tevinter, well… it proves Krem’s sister is as smart as he is.
Someday, Krem may want to see his sister again, and Bull will do everything in his power to make sure that meeting is a positive one.
None of which means shit in this particular context, except that he may let Dust in on that information now that Krem’s talked to her.
“I think it felt… right. Like the right thing to do. She told me some stuff about herself” Krem meets Bull’s eyes, his expression solemn, “that I can’t tell you about, but it felt right to tell her about myself too.”
“I’m glad it felt right, and that you felt comfortable enough to share.” Bull is genuinely glad on both counts - shocked, but glad. “Also, I’m giving you retro-active permission to invite her over this weekend.”
“Sweet! I’ll text-”
“Hold your dracolisks kid, we need to talk first.”
“Oh,” Krem says cautiously, excitement fading slightly. “What about?”
“Dust told me you think she and I should date now.”
Krem turns bright red. “I just said that you would be a good boyfriend if she wanted to date you.”
“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence Little Dude, but remember how complicated grown up relationships can be?”
“Yeah,” he responds slowly.
“Well Dust and I have a complicated relationship, and I need to ask you to let us handle it privately, okay? I’m not annoyed with you, and neither is Dust, but I need you to respect both our boundaries here.”
Krem nods, looking subdued but not unhappy.
“Okay, Pop, I understand. And I’m sorry for inviting Dust over without getting permission first.”
“You’re forgiven. Now concentrate on deciding what you’re going to cook.”
Read the rest on AO3
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Sentinel/Guide AU Update
Read the latest chapter of I’ll Be Your Ruin here.
Here’s a teaser:
Sabrina sucked in a long breath, absorbing the calm that the other guides instinctively radiated. “Whoever he is, he’s not trained like any guide from the old schools. It’s all instinct--like he doesn’t care to shield or anchor himself against the pull of others. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Her expression turned pained. “He broke Erik and Soril within the first few minutes.”
“Did he work with a sentinel?”
“No,” she said, “but he was guarded at all times. Cahir isn’t risking his new pet to any assassination attempts.”
Yennefer hummed, eyes going distant as she considered the information against the spiderweb she’d concocted.
“This guide,” Aiden began carefully, “did he have any accent? Tattoos or markings? There must be some way to identify him?”
Sabrina frowned, looking down at her dirty hands. “He only questioned us the one time. They had him dressed in the same uniform as the other soldiers aside from a dimeritium collar.”
“A collar might mean he isn’t there willingly.”
“It didn’t stop him from torturing us,” she retorted with a frosty expression, “They didn’t have to force him to do that.”
Geralt shifted, purposely drawing her attention away from Aiden. He didn’t like the sudden bleakness in the Cat Witcher’s eyes. “What else do you remember?”
“Not much else about him would be useful. Brown hair about to his collar, pale,” she listed briskly, “Blue eyes.”
The mug of mead in his hands slipped through nerveless fingers to splattered against the floor.
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