#bodhan

Bodhan mediates a full camp meeting.

“From a Certain Point of View”: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293188/chapters/71935464  

“Welcome to our bi-weekly full camp supply meeting,” Bodhan says to the assembled party around the fire, “as always, tell me and the boy what you’ll be needing, and we’ll be sure to stock it. Within two to three weeks of course.”

“Enchantment!” Sandal confirms. He prepares his notebook. His son is quite helpful for the business. A bit unorthodox sure, but quite good at keeping inventory and of course weirdly skilled at enchanting. He’s asked the boy how he got so good at it, but all he ever gets is “enchantment!”

Bodham has seen some very odd things in this world, that’ll happen when your job is raiding the Deep Roads. The ragtag group in front of him though is a new degree of strange, a mismatch of formidable folks across Thedas. Alistair and Leliana sit giggling together at the edge of the fire. They’re ostensibly the normal ones, but he’s heard that Alistair is the heir to the throne and Leliana was an assassin? The Qunari soldier, Sten, glares at them both as he has since Lothering, maybe it’s personal or maybe his face is just permanently stuck. Wynne seems eager to begin the meeting, she’s nice enough but apparently she’s possessed. Then there’s the actual golem, Bodhan thought they were just a myth made up by the Assembly, who seems to hold a very particular hatred towards pigeons, not exactly what he expected.

Oh and the Antivan assassin who apparently tried to kill the Wardens before recruitment. It’s not Bodahn’s job to question, but that seems like not the smartest choice.  Morrigan loiters at the edge of the group, yellow eyes glowing in the dark. Bodhan fears her the most, he’d rather not be turned into a toad. The Warden is missing this particular bi-weekly full camp supply meeting, off saving the world or something.

“We need more of that Orlesian cheese you had last month,” says Alistair, “because someone decided to eat it all.” The mabari hound barks in acknowledgment, unashamed and undeterred.

“I have a craving for those frilly cakes they make in the Val Royeaux bakery. Perhaps you can procure those,” requests Leliana. Frilly cakes, Sandal writes, flavor not specified.

“Has it escaped your notice that we are at war? We have no time for such frivolous things. Weapons and armor will be enough, dwarf,” says Sten. Actually Bodhan can do frivolous or not frivolous, really he doesn’t judge at all.  “And some cookie dough for Sten,” Leliana giggles. The Qunari does not object. Swords and things. Cookie dough?, Sandal writes.

Zevran pipes up. “I believe it is my turn then. I would like Antivan brandy, Bastion chocolate, a new pair of leather boots, a white steel dagger, a good bottle of olive oil, some red wine,” Sandal scribbles as quickly as possible, “ah and some of those frilly cakes from Val Royeaux would do quite nicely. Along with some personal items I will write you a list for.”  

Morrigan rolls her eyes, Bodhan braces himself. “If you all are quite finished, I require better lyrium  potions. Tis essential I do not choke on whatever it is you provide while I cast.”

“Afraid I can’t do that. Since Orzammar’s closed and the Circle is overrun by demons, the mages collective is the only lyrium seller left.” There are of course other avenues, but Bodhan stays out of the drug trade, profitable but a bit too nasty.

The Witch scowls. “Do not play coy with me, dwarf. Get me another kind of lyrium.”

“I’m…” Bodhan gulps, “not that kind of dwarf.”

“I could assist you in sourcing lyrium. I still have some contacts,” says Leliana. Bodhan wonders, how is this unassuming Chantry girl involved in the drug trade? Mage sympathizer would be his guess. On second thought he doesn’t want to know, he’s stayed alive this long by knowing when not to ask questions.

“Ah so the Chantry girl is involved in the sale of lyrium,” mocks Morrigan, “fascinating that one can have so many quirks and yet continue to be completely uninteresting.”

“Do you ever tire of being the oversexed, spiteful witch, Morrigan? It must be an exhausting archetype to always embody.” Leliana snaps back.

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সব্যসাচী সরকার

Derek walked up to Bodhan and Sandal.  “So, changed your mind about complicated?” He asked with a smirk.

“Well, my boy and I happened upon your camp, and in times like these, what could be safer than a Grey Warden camp.” Bodhan answered.