Chapter Text
“Oh please, you nearly took your eye out twice. I should have let you, then you and Chief here could match and be more disgustingly adorable,” Archer teased, throwing her leather clad legs up on Hawke’s lap. For the past week, Hawke and Archer had taken up the task of teaching Elle how to use a dagger. Elle had been paranoid the Red Templars would drain her magic and she didn’t want to be useless in a fight. Being that she kept knives on her all the time anyways, teaching her more sophisticated ways to use them other than ‘stab the nearest exposed flesh as many times as possible’ seemed like the smart thing to do.
Archer and Hawke could both agree that they were exhausted. It’s not that Elle was a terrible student, she just had a hard time not automatically reverting to her magic during training. Dalish Wildling Mages used their staff not just as a way to channel their magic, but also as an independent weapon. The end of her staff was sharp enough to stab through armor. Still, a well placed hit with a sword or axe and it could render her entire staff useless.
“Hey, I managed to throw the knife at that one dummy right in the eye,” Elle protested from her place on Iron Bull’s lap, her legs draped across his thighs while her back rested against the wall. The Chargers couldn’t get over seeing their boss no longer hide the fact that he was absolutely crazy about the Dalish Wildling. It was a welcome change, none of them could ever remember seeing their leader so content and happy. It still took some getting used to seeing the Iron Bull casually show affection to one woman. Krem could firmly attest to the fact that he had never seen Bull have a woman on his lap without moving a hand right up their skirt.
“That’s because you lit the rest of them on fire,” Hawke retorted, reaching over to swipe Varric’s ale. Hawke fit in with the Bull’s Chargers easily, though no one, least of all Varric was surprised. Marian Hawke was notorious for making friends wherever she went, and she became almost instant drinking buddies with Archer.
“Come on, she managed to master holding a knife and has decent aim,” Iron Bull’s free hand rubbed Elle’s hip affectionately, inducing Sera to cross her eyes and make gagging sounds. “Ugh. It was more fun when you were all moony over her and wouldn’t make a move,” she complained, swinging back in her chair and downing the last of her drink.
Elle reached forward and took the knife out of her boot, twirling it in her hand. It wasn’t as effortless as when Hawke or Archer did it, but she was getting there. “At least I can throw it straight now.” She pointed out, testing her hold on the knife.
“How in the hell are you able to hold a knife like that, Dreads?” Varric’s brows raised at how the Wildling’s slender double jointed fingers curled around the knife’s grip. “Buttercup does the same thing with her bow. Is crazy bendy fingers an elf thing?”
“Yes,” Elle, Hawke, Iron Bull, and Archer answered in near unison. Most everyone stopped and stared at Archer, whose tattooed tan face darkened a few shades. Hawke’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared into her bangs. “Really now? Care to share how you would know?” The Rogue couldn’t resist teasing her. Archer was known for not partaking in casual flings, much to the disappointment of many, and rarely ever spoke of past dalliances.
Archer’s face didn’t lessen in color and she swished the liquid in her mug as if it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen. “Just cause I don’t have another person in my bed, doesn’t me I’m some damn Chantry sister.”
Hawke threw her hands in the air in celebration. “We have another pointy ear lover among us! One of us! One of us!” Hawke and Iron Bull, who had not even bothered hiding his bellowing laugh, slapped hands.
“Welcome to the group. We meet every Friday, I’ll show you the secret handshake,” Hawke was absolutely delighted by this new piece of information. Her relationship with Fenris was no secret, and wasn’t always met with the best reactions.
“So, Archer,” Iron Bull had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Archer had given him so much grief over Elle that he took any chance he could to tease her, especially since she had been very caged about her past relationships. “Did the elf’s fingers make you… arch?”
The only response he got was Archer covering her face with her hand and heaving out a deep, exasperated sigh.
Unfortunately, it was one of the moments that Archer could not live down. Everyone at the table, and later on the rest of the Chargers, spent the next month wiggling their fingers at her. The Former Assassin started making rude hand gestures her go-to response. She had always been intensely silent about her private life, but never hesitated to give her friends a hard time, so it was natural that they took the chance for a little payback.
Though Iron Bull was quite fond of her, he took particular joy in grabbing Elle’s hand and having her make the ‘come hither’ motion. For months, he had to endure Archer’s ribbing and teasing about his turmoil with Elle, and payback was sweeter than the hot cocoa Varric brought for him.
Archer, despite her embarrassment from her slip, was a good sport about it. Oh, she certainly called everyone every curse the common tongue provided, even making up some rather creative ones in the process.
“Wrinkled Nug ball licker” and “Bronto Fucker” were often heard shouted throughout Skyhold.
“Cheer up Archer,” Elle slid a drink over to the pierced beauty. Rocky and Skinner had changed the words to bawdy tavern song about Archer and a mysterious elf lover, and Archer ended up throwing a knife at them.
“You know they do it to get a rise out of you.” Elle had lessened on her teasing a while ago, mainly because she felt that she sufficiently got her back for the teasing she endured after her and Iron Bull had gotten together.
After Krem had sufficiently won her over with his dry with and his nonchalant sense of humor, Archer was the next person that had her lower her guard around humans. Their friendship started out with nothing more than teaching each other tavern songs, and then morphed into a an easy camaraderie. Elle very clearly remembered the glares that Archer would send at Iron Bull when he left the tavern with a different person. She had pretended not to notice the light touches on her shoulder in comfort, or how she would use her own coin to buy her drinks so she could act casual whenever Iron Bull returned from his dalliances. Had it not been for Evelyn and Archer, she didn’t know how she would have gotten through those months.
“I know, I know!” Archer groaned, leaning her forehead against her upturned palm. “And normally I wouldn’t mind it, I definitely deserved some of it. When Dalish and Stitches started getting together, I was having way too much fun with that. And you don’t even know half the shit I gave Bull for how he acted around you. It’s just…” She chewed on her bottom lip, playing with the hoop that rested there.
“Look, it didn’t end well. I was an idiot, I trusted someone who I shouldn’t have. I was blinded by a handsome face, and left a fool.” All that spilled out of her in a whispered rush, her face darkening with embarrassment, not meeting Elle’s eyes. The pain that tinged her voice stirred something up inside the Dalish Wildling that brought her back to a darker time.
Suddenly, Elle didn’t find all the teasing so funny anymore. Though she personally never experienced heartbreak, she imagined it was close to what she had felt when she realized her growing feelings for Bull and had watched him look at every single other woman other than her.
“Shit. Now I feel like an asshole.” Elle downed the last of her ale, beckoning Cabot to pour her another.
“Don’t. I was the one who started the betting pool on when Chief would grow a pair remember?” They both exchanged smirks, but Elle made a mental note to tell Iron Bull to cut it out.
“Well,” She grabbed the fresh drinks that Cabot slid toward them and passed one to Archer. “Here’s to drinking away past bullshit and making better choices.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
From that moment on, Elle had started to notice the slight pained looks on Archer’s face whenever someone teased her. Sure, she would still punch them, or occasionally throw a knife at them, but behind that a flash of sadness would slip through her facade when she thought no one was looking. The guilt was starting to weigh in on her.
“So let me get this straight, you want us to lay off Archer?” Iron Bull was laid out on Elle’s bed of furs and hay, watching the naked Dalish Wilding straddling his chest. He had one hand behind his head and the other hand was tracing the long tattoo that covered most of her body.
“Mmmhmm.” Elle leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his chin. “It bothers her, she just won’t tell you guys cause, well, you know her. She’ll start a tavern brawl before she lets anyone see a weakness.” She peppered his chin with a series of kisses, smiling when she felt his other hand on her hip, sliding up her side.
Intimacy had not been an easy thing for her. After she ran away from the Circle, Elle had managed a few partners. It was actually a huntress named Rhoswhyn that helped her heal more than anyone. With Bull though, there was a level of trust she had never known. She trusted him in a fight, and never doubted that he wouldn’t catch her or throw her at the right target. He never told her secrets, even though she knew for a fact quite a few of the Chargers had asked him questions. After that night of their successful dragon hunt, he proved quite a few times that he was willing to completely stop the second she used their safe word. Being with him made her feel more whole than she had for a long time.
“Eh, I guess I paid her back enough. She was on my case for months about you.” His fingers wove themselves in her thin dreads, playing with the beads and feathers that ornamented that blood red strands for a bit before bringing her lips up to his own.
“Well, I’m not going to hold that against her. I absolutely blame you for missing out on all those months of fantastic sex and keeping me waiting cause you couldn’t admit that you were completely hot for me.” Elle’s smirk turned into a shriek of laughter as his fingers dug into her side and she was flipped on her back.
Iron Bull grinned down at her, grabbing her wrists and holding them over her head. “It’s always my fault isn’t it? You need to learn to take some responsibility.” He lowered his head and Elle’s giggles soon evolved into breathy sighs of pleasure, losing herself in a place where the world didn’t exist outside of his touch.
After that night, Iron Bull stopped mentioning Archer’s little slip up, and the Chargers and everyone else soon followed (though Sera still liked to use that piece of information when flirting with Archer). Archer went back to being herself, though the occasional knife was still thrown across the bar.