#alim is a generic male surana so the specifics of his character don't matter

[bumblerhizal-art]

Find the Word

Time for some Find the Word double duty! I'm only, what, three months late?

I've been tagged by @wild-houseplant to find Wrap, Consider, and Scream and @heniareth to find Make, Sleep, Tree, and Terrible. Because it's been so long, i'm linking the original posts [here] and [here] to encourage you all to go read them if you haven't already! Heniareth and Plant both excellent writers!

In return, i'll be tagging you two back as well as @heapster-45 @scarletkilometers @oxygenforthewicked and @icylook in case any of you have any wips lying around to ctrl+F

My words to search are Space, Want, Pass, and/or Dream!

Without further ado (well, after you click the readmore, so with exactly one more ado):

Wraps (from Rites of Passage)

As [Novhen] finished tying off the first leg, Cyrion exclaimed from the other side of their home, just barely hidden behind the corner. 

"Did you find it?" Novhen called.

"No, not yet!" Cyrion responded nervously.

Novhen rolled his eyes and began wrapping his other leg. His da was a terrible liar.

Novhen's trouser legs were thankfully compliant in staying put as the wraps rose along his other leg. As he approached the knee, he tied the wraps into a discrete bow and stood up.

Consider (from a so-far-unnamed fic where i figure out the logical conclusion of this post)

"My Lady, we should take some collateral before letting the elf run off."

"Please," Novhen said, "my word is my bond."

"Do you take us for fools? I've heard that from your ilk one time too many before," Swiftrunner growled. "I was thinking more along the lines of a bite. Some real incentive to make him release the curse."

Novhen's hair stood on edge.

"The walk to the Dalish camp’s a fortnight one way!" he rebutted.

He sneered, "Guess you'll consider yourself incentivized."

Scream (from the so-far-unnamed Protect prompt for the Apostate Soris AU)

(CW for burning alive)

Kallian now stood a chance, a far better chance than Soris could have given her if he had kept the blade for himself. In exchange, he was now vulnerable and unarmed, and she was forced to fight alone.

But there was still a trick up his sleeve. His fingertips grew warm, and the smell of sulfur and burning homes leaked into his nose.

He clenched his fists. If he didn't use it, there likely wouldn't be a single Tabris left alive by day's end. Even his uncle would be swept up in the purge they’ve already signed up for. He didn't have the luxury of choice. He exhaled shakily. If there were ever a sign he was desperate, this was it.

Kallian was holding her ground against the guards, but who knew how long she had until the fight turned against her or if she could defeat two professional soldiers before then. They began to press in on her.

He would just have to hope he could find a way of resealing the secret once this was out.

One of the guards screamed like a panicked coyote as Soris threw a fireball at his feet.

His hand burned, but the guard burned worse. The fire caught onto his gambeson underneath, and the howls grew in pitch and panic.

Make (from Gathering Frays)

“And did you know they made me remove my weapons before coming in?” Zevran said incredulously.

“Did they take all of them?” Novhen asked.

“Not remotely,” Zevran threw up his hands, “and they did not even once say ‘I said all your weapons’.”

“Really?” Novhen tried to laugh, but his chest resisted the movements. Instead, he fell into a brief fit of coughing. As the coughs subsided, he continued, “I didn’t realize the security here was in that poor a state. I can’t see my dog, but an assassin who’s traded his smallclothes for an extra lining of knives is perfectly fine?”

Zevran nodded knowingly, “Even the guest I’ve brought you today, the most harmless man in the world, is facing more scrutiny than I.”

Novhen smiled, “A guest? Is that why you used the door this time?”

Sleep (from Rites of Passage)

The salty morning air of the City of Highever reminded Novhen of Denerim’s shipyards, though it couldn’t quite measure up to the bustle of the capital. A thick morning fog hugged the ground with little disturbance to its form, and the warm dawn was just beginning to peer over the horizon from the direction of home as he snuck his way to the docks. The weight of stolen coin hung from his belt. Passage would be expensive, but the local guardhouse had been generous enough to hide their cache of "civil forfeiture" behind the simplest lock on this side of the Frostbacks.

This is the time of day when the docks should begin their buzz. The workers of the ships and docks had already commenced their morning shuffles, but no one yet yelled orders across the piers. Ships aim to spend as little time in port as possible, so he needed to search fast. He refused himself sleep all last night to ensure he could actually be awake early enough to take advantage of this opportunity away from the watchful eyes of the Wardens.

Tree (from another unnamed fic i wrote for 14daysDAlovers last year and never finished. oops)

(CW for accidental drug use -- Don't secretly harvest dangerous herbs for your assassin bf if you don't know what you're doing.)

Alim sneezed. That was probably a bad sign.

Whether or not that meant he had sniffed more pollen than hoped, he had to make his way back to camp. They would start to worry if he stayed out alone much longer. He slogged through the lightly forested path. His feet sunk deep into the uneven, poorly-trod peat. Maybe he didn't need to have taken from this particular patch, but the coloration was perfect. He vaguely remembered one of the botanists in the Circle talking about blood lotus once. She said that the deeper the color, the faster-acting the hallucinogens. He could have settled for a less secluded, lighter colored flower, but it could only be the best for Zevran.

The camp was farther than he remembered. Alim's steps became clumsier and clumsier until a foot caught on a snaking tree root. He faceplanted into the soft, squishy soil with an embarrassing plap. Jerking up off the ground, he spat mud from his mouth. Any smell of lakewater or flowers was now completely overrun by the rotten egg odor of a swamp.

Terrible (from Gathering Frays)

“How are you feeling if I may ask?” Zevran asked. “I’m glad to see you responsive again. You looked truly terrible when we first recovered you, and there were concerns that you wouldn’t make it.”

“You have no idea how close it really was up there. They keep saying worst of it’s over, but I’m not so convinced anymore that dying was the worst option,” he tried a pathetic smiled. “Even when I'm able to move enough to adjust myself over my bedpan, I have a splitting headache that won’t even go away in my sleep, and my body’s one giant bruise. I’m pretty sure Thedas is discovering new colors as it heals.”

“Truly?” he jested. “It seems your purpose may outlast the Blight after all. They might even dissect you.”

“Don’t give them any ideas. They might just do it,” Novhen said.