Bull hates Orlais. It's too much pomp and circumstance. The rooms are too shiny, too well-decorated.
But the beds were large, and soft, and Sen looked even smaller than usual, dwarfed by the bed. He was tucked in firmly, hair brushed from his face, sleeping peacefully.
He'd been sleeping too much. For days now. It had been days since Bull had carried Sen back through all those fucking mirrors, too light, too weak, even more colorless than his usual.
A decision had been made in the moment: Sen, lying crumpled on the stone, clutching his arm that was most assuredly going to kill him.
Bull had made the single clean stroke to take the arm just below the elbow, had driven all his strength and skill into it. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the scream of pain. But in the aftermath, with Sen bandaged and unconscious, he had looked less in pain than he had for a while.
It almost made it worth it, to know that Sen wasn't going to die because of the Anchor. And he had the best healers in all of Orlais and the Inquisition looking after him.
It didn't make it any easier, though, to sit at his bedside and wait.
Slowly, he reached out and cupped the top of Sen's head with one large palm, then leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't sleep too much longer. You need to wake up."
no subject
But the beds were large, and soft, and Sen looked even smaller than usual, dwarfed by the bed. He was tucked in firmly, hair brushed from his face, sleeping peacefully.
He'd been sleeping too much. For days now. It had been days since Bull had carried Sen back through all those fucking mirrors, too light, too weak, even more colorless than his usual.
A decision had been made in the moment: Sen, lying crumpled on the stone, clutching his arm that was most assuredly going to kill him.
Bull had made the single clean stroke to take the arm just below the elbow, had driven all his strength and skill into it. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear the scream of pain. But in the aftermath, with Sen bandaged and unconscious, he had looked less in pain than he had for a while.
It almost made it worth it, to know that Sen wasn't going to die because of the Anchor. And he had the best healers in all of Orlais and the Inquisition looking after him.
It didn't make it any easier, though, to sit at his bedside and wait.
Slowly, he reached out and cupped the top of Sen's head with one large palm, then leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. "Don't sleep too much longer. You need to wake up."