#the wrong warden

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 180

The Wrong Warden, Chapter 180: Catching Up With the party whole once more, Hera and her friends gather around the table to catch up on the others' news.

Hera is the last to appear at breakfast, having indulged in a long bath and extra pampering after spending a rather large part of the morning in Alistair’s arms. Taking a seat at the long table beside Alistair— grinning like a cat with cream— she accepts a cup of tea handed to her by Wynne and glances around. “Is Leliana not coming?” she whispers, leaning closer to the mage.

“No,” Wynne says, her lips a thin line. “I saw to her wounds last night— she was in a frightful mood, wasn’t she?— and she asked to be left alone. I stopped by to see her this morning and she wouldn’t come to the door.”

Zevran points a slice of bacon at the women. “She told me the same thing,” he adds. “I do not suggest you bother her.”

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Now for the tarot card! @exalted-dawn made me this STUNNING tarot card of Hera, featuring the best boy Ares. I'm so in love with it!

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 177

The Wrong Warden, Ch 177: The North Road As Alistair makes his way toward the Landsmeet, doubts begin to plague him.

“Alistair, my friend! Come spar with me,” Zevran offers, lifting his dagger casually. “I cannot spend all day sharpening my sword.”

Alistair shakes his head and keeps his eyes firmly on the horizon. “Can you be seasick on a lake?” he asks, taking a slow breath.

“I suppose you can,” Zevran says with a shrug. “Wynne and Morrigan have not offered a concoction of some kind?”

“I haven’t-” Alistair cuts himself off as his gorge rises again, instinctively pressing his fist to his chest. “-Asked.”

“Still sick, Alistair?” Teagan asks, coming up on the other side. “Don’t worry, we’ll be docking soon. We’ll be on horseback tomorrow.”

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 174

The Wrong Warden, Chapter 174 As Hera begins to drown in regret over her private situation, Eamon decides to have a chat.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 172

Chapter 172: A Story Worth Telling

Leliana has some thoughts on Alistair becoming king and how she intends to tell their story.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 166

Chapter 166: Alistair's Nightmare Alistair worries that two of his party might have the Blight wasting sickness.

The slow thaw of snow turns the roads into a sticky, muddy mess and makes the roads more difficult to travel. Forced to stop early and scrape the mud off themselves, Hera and Zevran make dinner, bickering about spices and how many wild leeks to use while Alistair rubs beeswax over the leather bits of his gear to help waterproof it.

“Zevran, I’ve made this before!” Hera says, exasperation making her voice pitch. “ I taught you how to make it!”

“ Amora, ” Zevran says calmly, “you are lovely, and have a great many talents of which I am constantly in awe. But- I love you, you know that, yes?- your soup is terrible. I have improved it. Let me show you.”

Alistair laughs at her comically outraged shriek that sends her voice into such a high pitch that he can hardly understand what she’s saying. They’ve only been out of Orzammar a day, and already she looks better; there’s a rosy tint to cheeks that had been sallow and sickly when they emerged from the Deep Roads, and the shadows that pass over her eyes now and then seem to appear less often. Overall, she seems almost whole again.

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The Wrong Warden, Ch. 169

Chapter 169: A Proper Bath

In a small village outside Orzammar, Morrigan interrupts Hera's bath with a personal matter.

“There’s a village not far from here, isn’t there?” Leliana asks when they stop for their midday meal and to rest.

Alistair pulls out their map, taking a moment to find their location. “If we’re here...hey, you’re right, Leliana! There’s a village a little further down the road.”

“Oh, can we find an inn?” Leliana asks, clasping her hands together. “Or a tavern or a barn or anything ! I’m so sick of dwarves and camping. I want a nice clean bed made for a human’s height!”

“Is it safe to stop at an inn?” Wynne asks. “We’re already taking a chance by traveling along the Imperial Highway. Loghain’s men could be waiting in every village.”

“In which case, we will deal with them once they show their dastardly faces,” Zevran growls.

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I actually have something worth showing off this week, so here's a wip wednesday! I was tagged by @musetta3 and@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, so thank you, darlings!

This week's chapter of The Wrong Warden left us with the sinking feeling that Wynne saw what Hera did and what the consequences would be. So this wip is from a near-future chapter touching on just that:

“Wynne, can I ask you something?” she asks as the mage wraps a bandage around her salve-covered hand.

“You may.”

“Does the magic here ever...go wrong?”

Wynne lifts her head, looking at her curiously. “Go wrong? Of course. Spells backfire, or words are mispronounced. The control of magic must be precise, if so much as a gesture is incorrect it can lead to disaster.”

“No, I mean-”

“You mean something is wrong with your magic,” Wynne corrects, going back to knotting the bandage. “I'm no fool, Hera. Why didn't you just tell me you were a mage?”

Tagging:

@kunstpause @elveny @ammocharis @queen-kass-the-writer @noire-pandora