acts of nonsexual intimacy— reading to them .///. @winterfollows
It wasn’t as if Bedic didn’t have a soft spot in his heart for his first plays ( he did ), it was something else to show them to someone whom he mildly had an interest in. Romantically or platonically. But… his first play wasn’t something he cared to remember. Too close to old regrets, even if his past pain had been helped.
“I played the Duke’s servant, in this one.” He says, pointing to the character in the list. It had been originally written as a minor role. His friend had convinced the author to write the part bigger, & Bedic to take the place par request of the director. He’d have gotten nowhere if it wasn’t for her… “He was originally meant to be completely silent, but I guess the author decided to change his mind.”
► Name ➔ Benedict Milweed, Bedic by my friends
► Are you single ➔ Single, technically
► Are you happy ➔ No
► Are you angry? ➔ Often, these days
► Are your parents still married ➔ Divorced
NINE FACTS
► Birth Place ➔ Val Royeaux, Orlais
► Hair Color ➔ Red
► Eye Color ➔ Silver
► Birthday ➔ 17 Justinian, 9:15 Dragon
► Mood ➔ Friendly
► Gender ➔ Male
► Summer or winter ➔ Summer
► Morning or afternoon ➔ Morning
EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE
► Are you in love ➔ Unfortunately
► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ Never
► Who ended your last relationship ➔ I did, not that I wanted to
► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ Yes
► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ Nothing good has ever come out of being in a relationship with me
► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Yes
► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ Perhaps
► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Many times
SIX CHOICES
► Love or lust ➔ Lust
► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ Iced Tea
► Cats or Dogs ➔ Dogs
► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ Many friends
► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ Wild night
► Day or night ➔ Day
FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS
► Been caught sneaking out ➔ Once too many
► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ A few times
► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Yes
► Wanted to disappear ➔ Yes
FOUR PREFERENCES
► Smile or eyes ➔ Smile
► Shorter or Taller ➔ Shorter
► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ Both
► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Hook-up
FAMILY
► Do you and your family get along ➔ Mostly
► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ Yes
► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ Read: How I ended up in Sahrnia
► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ No
FRIENDS
► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ I’m afraid of the opposite
► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ No
► Who is your best friend ➔ N/A
► Who knows everything about you ➔ My sister
TAGGED BY: @theharellan ages ago
TAGGING: i forgot who hasn’t done it yet ( @youriinquisitorialness @virassxn @hiraecies if you haven’t done it yet )
Upon his birthday a mysterious gift arises: an invitation to a play at Halamshiral's Alienage, with proceeds meant to fund efforts to rebuild. Two tickets wrapped in plain paper fall out of an envelope, along with a note: "Bring whoever you like, but remember they may have to talk to me. -A"
it’s bedic’s late birthday .///. @arlaathvhen ( @suledinharillen )
Halamshiral. He had yet to see the damage. ( He wasn’t yet sure if he wanted to. ) The rebuilding was slow to progress. Of course it was-- Celene had burned the whole place down. He smiles, & tucks the tickets away to pen a letter.
aka i wrote this in one sitting don’t judge my grammar
“Are you sure you have to leave?”
Bedic is carrying all of his belongings, small enough to fit into a small rucksack slung over one shoulder. The smile he gives her is bright, and he jingles the bag of coins tucked away inside a hidden pocket. “Of course.” He says. Always so confident, chest puffed into the air even as he wears another hole into his shirt.
“I have enough to pay for a trip back home, maybe enough for a letter to write back.” At least this time he hadn’t insisted on doing something in return. He had earned his wages through hard work, Theria insisted he be compensated like a soldier. While he hadn’t said anything to her, she could still see the faint lines of anxiety crease the corner of his eyebrows. Bedic would never admit his feelings to her, nor to anyone.
Bedic was well used to walking the streets of Val Royeaux to know not to talk openly about money. He would be careful on his way back home on the back of a cart. Inquisition soldiers or not, the roads weren’t safe for an elf alone.
The smile he gives her is wry, tension masked behind thin humor. “Makers tit’s, you sound like my mother. I’ll be fine.” Of course he would be. Bedic had a nack for getting himself into trouble, but he knew how to keep out of the way.
He rubs a thumb across his chin thoughtfully, and Theria already knows he’s forgotten whatever had been worrying him. “Although, I wouldn’t protest if you sent your boyfriend to escort me.” And there is the punchline. It was always a joke. “He is a sight for sore eyes, though he’s a bit weird, if you ask me.”
Theria barks a laugh. “Go, before the cart leaves without you and you’ll be stuck with me even longer.”
Bedic grins. “As if that would be a hardship.”
“Wouldn’t it?”
Bedic is quick to draw her into a hug, knowing he had to leave. It would be a long time before they would see each other again. He’s just taller than she is to rib on her. Holding her arms with both hands, as if she would run off without saying goodbye if he didn’t hold her there. “I’ll write, and it’ll be like we were never gone. Unless you go home to your clan and then you’re out of luck if you want my good humor.” He talks too much, she would miss that company. “And you better come see me on stage or I’ll be very cross with you.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Seeing him crammed between loaded supplies and vacationing soldiers, she really would miss him.
He’s particular about money and gifts, especially after his relationship ended with Adrien. Bedic grew up poor, and remains so into adulthood. He never assumes something is a gift, even if the giver clearly states it and tries to compensate them monetarily. As a direct result, he almost never lets anyone cheat him and is good at spotting it
There is a strong magical tendency in his family. Bedic has magic potential but is unlikely to develop magic, especially at his age. It is only when his sister turns thirteen in which she starts to develop magic. By that time the new Divine has been elected.
Bedic has a scar on his shoulder from the first time he was mugged in Val Royeaux, it extends down his shoulder blade.
He’s an idealist, but family means more to him than anything else.
Bedic is extremely good at learning languages and picked up Tevene and Dwarven. What he knows was written in textbooks, and he’s absolutely abysmal in learning Elven. Eventually he picks up on it, but for the longest time he has a terrible accent and a lot of trouble speaking.
Send “Amortentia” for what smells my character associates with yours. @youriinquisitorialness !!!
He thinks she smells like unwashed clothing and stale sweat when he first meets her. But he was freezing his ass off, and everything around him smelt like unwashed clothing and stale sweat (and blood, but he pretended it wasn’t there). She takes him to Skyhold where it is still cold but not as much as Emprise du Lion. Obviously, she bathed a few times since then. If she was in the gardens she would smell of dirt, but at dinner, she carried the lingering afterthought of soft linen.
Mostly she reeks of leather. None of the cheap stuff, but the nice, cured leather that was soft to the touch and far beyond his pay grade. Theria offers to give him something made of it, but he turns her down on the premise he isn’t part of the Inquisition and her supplies would be better off used elsewhere. Bedic prefers to sit next to her after she’s bathed, when the soap still clings to her skin in soft touches. After a while, she smells like someone else, and it takes him months to realize whom to scent belongs to.
❛ hell is just another place i guess i’ll go to keep you warm. ❜
adrien///bedic bc i have no life
He found he didn’t mind Adrien so much when it was his arms wrapped around his waist in the early mornings. Tucked under his chin with his quiet breath on the base of his throat. Bedic hadn’t slept well in ages. Not when his dreams were red inside. When he thought the nightmares would finally pass, they found only another aspect to taunt him.
He’d resisted the demon--Imshael’s-- offers if only to end up half frozen and stuck with delusional men. At the stage they were when the Inquisition arrived, Bedic wouldn’t call them human. His skin still burned where they touched him, cold steel which bit into the skin and marred the flesh. Small scars always stood out, but at least his lungs didn’t hurt when he coughed. The song had faded as soon as he left the mine, but it still echoed if he thought hard enough about it. Didn’t make the feelings of paranoia any better. They say the song would fade after he left, and it had.
Adrien still hadn’t noticed his change in sleep, now half dozing. Perhaps he was still asleep, and Bedic could pretend a little bit longer. He wasn’t even sure what he was pretending for.
“Your breath tickles.” When Adrien speaks, he can feel the vibrations in his throat on his chin and nose. Bedic inhales, lazily pulling himself into wakefulness.
“Then move me.” Though Bedic would have complained when he was comfortable where he was. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know Adrien is smiling.
Though a laugh Adrien declares blasphemy. Bedic begs to differ, but he doesn’t voice his opposition. When his lover shifts, Bedic pulls away. Eyes trail red welts, down, down, down until he can’t see past the fine sheets. No longer as inflamed as they’d been, but still pleasing. “Well,” He says, leaning to kiss him. “You’ll just have to deal with me snuggling.”
“What a tragedy.” Adrien holds him almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, pulled back into their original position.
“I thought my breathing on your neck made you ticklish.” He laughs against Adrien’s skin, patting his butt lightly over the heavy blankets.
