From @thekingofcarrotflower for http://foetal.tumblr.com/
Prompts used: Spoiling each other (Dorian spoiling Bull, at least) & eating together
When the merchants filtered into Skyhold with their carts brimming with Josephine’s newest requisitions and whatever new items they had to sell to the denizens of Skyhold, Dorian had politely excused himself from watching the Chargers’ training. It wasn’t uncommon for Dorian to linger near the training grounds when the Chargers used it at what Dorian deemed to be a ‘reasonable hour’, but Bull had noticed the man watching the gates rather than watching Bull, sweaty and swinging a practice sword, like he usually did.
“Huh,” Krem said, digging the tip of his sword into the dirt and leaning heavily on it as they watched Dorian bound up the stairs to the main hall, “He waiting on a new shipment of those fancy soaps and shit of his? Heard him complaining he’d run out of something the other day.”
“I dunno,” Bull shrugged one shoulder, eye lingering on the large double doors. He wasn’t overly concerned - Dorian still valued his privacy, sometimes spend an evening in the library or his own quarters when he needed the space - but curiosity twinged inside of Bull.
“Guess you’ll find out sooner or later,” Krem grunted, lifting his sword again.
Bull grunted in agreement, lifting his own weapon. Krem needed practice blocking blows from his left side, anyways. Whatever Dorian was up to could wait.
—
“New stash?” Bull asked when he returned to his quarters hours later, after training and a long bath. His knee had been acting up since the weather was starting to grow colder, and a steaming bath seemed to do the trick. He’d taken some time to search for Dorian beforehand, to invite him along, but had little luck finding him. Varric had claimed to see him hours ago, conversing with Josephine and heading towards the ambassador’s study, but there seemed to be no sign of him since.
Dorian had been spending almost every night and most days in Bull’s room, taking claim of a set of drawers and somehow managing to find a decent-looking vanity to place in the corner. Currently, he was fiddling with his jars of beauty products, the specially warming salves he sometimes used on Bull’s aching joints that smelled of vanilla and sandalwood, the black lacquer he used on his nails and almost always kept unchipped and shiny as the day he put it on, and all the other perfumes and shampoos and lotions.
Maybe Krem was right about acquiring a new set of ‘fancy soaps and shit’, but it didn’t exactly account for how quickly Dorian had slipped off early. Bull wasn’t concerned, was merely curious, normally able to tell when Dorian was up to something. The last time he’d been rather squirrelly had been just before Bull’s birthday, when he surprised the Bull with a new battleaxe of dragonbone and pearly pink dawnstone. While Bull knew Dorian had something big planned, he would have never bet on that, and he was left nearly speechless. Dorian tried to play it off like nothing, but his small, hesitant voice asking if Bull had truly liked it had made Bull’s heart ache.
“A few new items for my collection, yes,” Dorian glanced at Bull over his shoulder, “Do you know how much effort it is to acquire anything from up north?”
Bull chuckled as he began to put away his harness and boots, switching into a pair that were easier on his feet, easier to wear around his quarters and the tavern, “So you’ve said before. A few times.”
“It’s worth repeating,” Dorian sniffed. He drummed his fingers against the lid one of the many jars, before picking it up and turning slightly, “I may have got you a thing or two as well.”
“Yeah?” Bull arched a brow, smirking slightly.
“You’d be surprised how difficult this was to find. Luckily, I still have some connections in Tevinter that haven’t completely severed ties and know people with access to the black markets.”
Bull’s brow shot higher, a little unsure what exactly Dorian would be after in the seedy, underground markets that were abundant in Tevinter if you knew the right people. He was holding the jar between his hands just right to obscure whatever it was.
“I’ve been assured it’s top quality stuff,” Dorian stated, “That was from Maevaris, mind you, and while I trust her in most aspects of life, I’m doubt she knows much about horn care -”
“Woah, Dorian.” Bull cut him off, knowing Dorian’s tendency of rambling whenever his nerves got the best of him. He held out a hand, wriggling his fingers until Dorian set the container in his hand. He did so hurriedly, a little too forceful when he pressed the jar into Bull’s marred digits, and then backing away a half-step.
Bull turned the jar over in his hand, examining it carefully. There was a shiny, gold label, boasting the name of some Antivan soap company, with the words ‘Quality Horn Balm’ handwritten in curling script. For a moment, Bull blinked at it, aware of Dorian watching his face intently. Quickly, he unscrewed the lid, taking in the tingling, almost medicinal smell of peppermints and menthols, reminding him of Par Vollen in the best of ways. He dipped his fingers in, studying the quality.
“It’s quite alright if it isn’t up to snuff,” Dorian said as the seconds ticked by, “I knew it was a bit of a gamble.”
“No, it’s great,” Bull looked up, grinning. He could see the tension ease off of Dorian, his expression quickly echoing Bull’s.
“Splendid! Mae had heard rumor of a band of Tal-Vashoth working out of Antiva, and it seems following up on that might have paid off,” Dorian held out his hand for the balm, and Bull willingly handed it over. Dorian had applied such creams to Bull’s horns before, thought they were generally of a lesser quality, or ones Bull had thrown together himself.
Jar in hand, Dorian shuffled around on the bed, kneeling behind Bull. He scooped out some balm, before carefully placing it beside Bull on the bed. His hands moved skillfully across Bull’s horns, the smell of mint quickly filling all of Bull’s senses. Dorian dug his thumbs into the base of Bull’s horns, the balm causing the sensitive flesh there to tingle pleasantly, making Bull groan blissfully. A soft chuckled escaped Dorian as he polished Bull’s horns to pristine condition, the gnarled, knotted set now smooth and almost shining.
“Good?” Dorian questioned, backing off slightly.
“The best,” Bull hummed happily, feeling sated.
Dorian moved across the room to was his hands clean in the basin of water. While the balm felt pleasant and tingly on the skin, it could do quite the number on any sensitive bits of skin. Bull arranged the pillows at his headboard, leaning heavily again them and watching Dorian move across the room.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Dorian advised, making eye-contact in the mirror. Bull smiled crookedly, which still managed to make Dorian’s cheeks heat.
There was a knock on the door before Dorian made it back to bed. Bull groaned slightly in annoyance, having been anticipating Dorian joining him in bed promptly. The last time someone walked in them, it’d ended up as a whole ordeal with all three of the advisors. It hadn’t bothered Bull, but it had embarrassed Dorian for weeks, the man avoiding chess matches with Cullen as well as afternoon tea with Josephine, and dreading war table meetings.
“Shush,” Dorian chided, surprising Bull. He moved to the door, pulling it open with a smile. There was a brief conversation, before one of the kitchen hands exchanged a tray filled with foodstuff for a handful of coin. Dorian nudged the door shut before turning towards Bull.
“Shit, what’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. Just … felt like you deserved some pampering, for a change.”
“Aw, you do care.”
Almost inaudibly, Dorian muttered: “Of course I do.”
Carefully, Dorian set the tray into Bull’s lap. It was full of foods Bull hadn’t seen in ages - hot and sour soup, dum aloo with deep red curry, rice flour dumplings full of coconut and jaggery, pieces of barfi brimming with mango and cashews, kabobs of lamb smeared in a sweet-smelling sauce, samosa with potato and cheese and meat inside, a mint sauce to the side of it. It was quite the feast, and would have taken a lot of planning and preparation to put together. Many of the ingredients weren’t common to the area, and Bull wasn’t sure the Fereldan cooks would know what to do with a coconut or a spoonful of cardamom.
“Dorian,” Bull breathed out, surprise evident in his tone, “How’d you manage to pull this off?”
Dorian shrugged slightly, “I made an arrangement with the kitchen. We’ve been waiting for the last few ingredients, and when they received word this morning that the merchants were at the last leg of their journey, we put the plan into action. Days when the caravans arrive are usual slower in the kitchen, everyone killing up on the chocolates and fancy wines they’ve ordered, so the kitchen didn’t have too much work on their hands today.”
“This really is some surprise,” Bull grinned, easing his fingers around Dorian’s wrist and tugging him closer while minding the food. Dorian leaned in for the kiss, which was slow and loving and filled them both with warmth.
“You’re joining me, yeah?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss curry for the world. We are lucky to have an Antivan in the kitchen. I wouldn’t trust the Fereldans with a spice more potent than black pepper.”
Bull snorted in agreement. Dorian maneuvered around the bed, settling in at Bull’s side. They shared the tray of food, hand-feeding each other, laughing as they kissed with lips and tongues tingling with spices. It was strange and still-new for the both of them, and they were more than happy to explore the uncharted territory together.

