STEEL AGAINST STEEL IS A GRATING SOUND, but the battle flows nevertheless. he’s well accustomed to it by now. men dying is a bit like music to bull, in a… weird, weird way. he digs his right heel into the grass and pushes forward with his left leg, swings the sword so graciously gifted to him by the inquisitor into the sky and brings it down again. his opponent is nearly cleaved in half, split from the skull, but he’d been the last one. the relief that comes with the end of combat doesn’t last long, because the inquisitor is - nowhere in sight.
panic surges in his chest for a brief moment, and then another. the emerald graves is in no way an even playing field, crested with hills and sharp cliffs and painful falls if you’re not careful. it’s easy to get lost among the towering trees, and everything being the same color doesn’t help - especially when you can’t see out of one eye. his blade is placed reverently back into its sheath on his back, and he observes the carnage. there had been ten men, if he’d counted right. one heavy. two archers, pesky little assholes with no right to be as fast as they’d been.
he steps over one’s head, mouth left to hang open like a macabre piece of art. he’d died screaming, that’s right. doesn’t matter too much now. ‘ boss? ’ he calls, in hopes of something. a resounding answer of some sort or another, a cry, a proof that she isn’t dead. if she’s dead, they’re all fucked. the world would just end. he doesn’t like to think on that too much. solas is still sorting himself out, and varric is busy looting, which means he’s on watch. he follows the right steps : the distance between bodies grows, which means she’d been farther away, and… there’s a steep drop, right there. he has to wonder.
he peeks his head over the ledge. there’s a freeman down there, too, although he looks burnt to a crisp. and, thankfully, the inquisitor. he can’t help the easy grin that accompanies the realization that she’s fine. of course she’s fine. what had he ever needed to worry about? ‘ seems like a long way down. need any help? ’
he’s faster than he should be , for a man in armor . mislyn is taken off guard , hadn’t seen him coming ( too focused on an archer in the treeline ) , & he’s got both arms around her before she knows it . her staff slips from her fingers. he’s bigger than her , stronger, & angry to boot . she scrambles for purchase , digs her nails into what little she can find & sends a bolt of electricity out from her palm . the freeman feels it , but still holds her in place . he moves one arm, pressure over her throat like he’s going to choke her —
so mislyn does the only thing she can think to & kicks , shoves both of them straight over the edge . it’s not a far enough drop to kill her , but , creators , it still hurts . his armor digs harshly into her back , & a sharp pain radiates through her ribs . she doesn’t focus on that . another charge swells in her hands , & mislyn grips tight to both sides of his head . he chokes on a scream , thrashes wildly , but she doesn’t let go until he’s finally still . it seems an awful way to die , but she tries not to think on it for too long . frozen solid or turned to ash or showered in sparks ; it doesn’t matter much in the end . & he certainly didn’t seem to have a problem strangling her .
❛ i’m fine . ❜ the response is immediate , without any thought , without really even listening . it’s true enough . she’s still breathing & the freeman is — well . she blinks up , where the iron bull is smiling down at her . it makes something in her stomach twist unpleasantly ( or maybe that’s still her rib ? ) . mislyn trusts him about as far as she can throw him , which is to say : not at all . oh , she doesn’t think she’s in any danger of him cleaving her right in two , or hauling her off to his people , & he’s certainly proven near invaluable when it comes to combat . but she is afraid of him all the same .
❛ a little late for help, don’t you think ? ❜ two taps with her boot to the dead man’s shoulder . she does not smile , but keeps her voice as light as she can manage . ❛ can you get — is my staff up there ? ❜