#starweald

starweald: ❝ I finally found a place I hate more than caves. That’s a first. ❞

Eden had heard the news of the Hero of Ferelden would be staying at Skyhold for a time. He scant believed it. Rumors within Skyhold spread like children with the common cold, and Eden had learned quickly which rumors to decipher. Idle gossip was like currency, and Eden knew the presence of the Warden would certainly shake things up. 

It had. He wasn’t sure when the poor lass would ever get a break from meeting noble diplomats within the Inquisitor’s company or the budding recruit garnering the courage to ask for an autograph. Though he found the whole thing amusing, he did feel somewhat bad for the woman. Even celebrities deserved some quiet time.

So when he saw her approaching the Herald’s Rest, he shooed out the lingering patrons; ignoring their grumbles of protest as they vacated the tavern. Eden had the hearth going. It was far too chilly for his liking and he couldn’t deny that he ached for the warmth billowing breezes of his beloved Starkhaven. It did get cold there, but unlike here, it was a welcoming cold--a chance to nestle around the fire with family and loved ones telling stories to pass the time. It was simple; and Andraste above knew that Eden missed simple. 

Eden bowed his head in greeting when his green hazel gaze found the Warden’s. 

“ Welcome to the Herald’s Rest, lassie.” he moved casually through his tavern and behind the bar. He was rather an intimidating looking young man--or at least that is what his mother had said. He was cursed with his father’s cold and stoic disposition within his face but had the heart of a lovable dog. Even his father’s father had been cursed with the same. Eden did try his best to come off as polite and welcoming, but something about the way his emerald hues gleamed or how high his cheekbones were that gave illusion of someone who was taciturn and morose; but Eden was none of these things, he thought. Perhaps a little reserved. He was broad shouldered and held his stance with authority, often crossing his arms--but he was amiable and friendly--perhaps it was just the Starkhaven way.  

He let a charming smile grace his lips. It was practiced to be sure, but he wanted the Hero of Ferelden to feel welcomed and safe under his roof. He parted his lips to speak. 

“ Whit can ah get ye? We got a rum special tonight.” 

@starweald​ S.C. 

death of an optimist.   [ accepting. ]

❛     yeah, nine out of ten times, if y’think you’ve got the upper hand, you’re playin’ right into the opponent’s hand.     you’ve only got it when you know you’ve got it.     tha’s what makes experienced fighters so bloody hard to beat.     them & their knowing what they’re doin’ ...     ❜

he rolls his eyes but there’s a beaming grin plastered on his features as he sheathes his blades & walks up to the knocked down mage to give her a hand.     it’s azriel’s humble, non - mage opinion that all mages should have some skill with a weapon other than magic, particularly when there are enemies with the means to negate magic, rendering them all but defenseless.     & he likes having sparring partners on the road who aren’t greatsword wielders.     it would be an understatement to say azriel’s thrilled that asteria agreed to have a go at sparring with him.