#wilddeoren

M: Oh, no. I know that face. I'm not going to like this, am I? What's in the tunnels?

A: They're... infested with wildderoen

M: What are wilddeoren?

A: Well, they're like giant... (looks at bb merlin and his saucer eyes, definitely suppressing a strong urge to squeeze merlin's cheeks and plant kisses all over his face) ...baby rats.

                       there was more than one. sitting patiently against the grass as the small elf picks flower after flower, each finding it’s way into various gaps within armour, someone tucked under leader and others weaved in through black curls. his smile is soft, sitting here and watching as merrill presses stems into chains and finding just as much amusement as she must be finding in covering him, an iron clad templar of all people, in petals of bight pinks and purples, ‘are you having fun?’ he muses, his smile bright and a laugh sitting at the back of his throat as a ring of flowers is sat against his already flower filled hair.

Romance Banter: Accepting

Hera

Aveline: So, Hawke. You’ve been going to the Blooming Rose nearly every night now.Neil: Did Carver tell you that or are you still “keeping an eye on me?”Aveline: Don’t dodge the question.Neil: Why do you need to know?Aveline: It just seems silly that you keep going to see this person when you have a perfectly good estate with plenty of room. Why not invite them to stay? Give them a different job? You clearly care about them if you keep going back. Neil: I... I’ll think on it. 

Merrill

❝ i've been thinking, ❞ a warning sign, if it were anyone BUT merrill he was speaking to they may groan 'oh no not again', but the elven girl wasn't the type. which is why she was hawke's favorite, ever eager to indulge his ludicrous musings and plans simply because she was a kind person. kindest one in kirkwall, hands down. she should get an award for it. 

“ vhenan, have you read this book? it’s marvelous. “

solas was resting his head across her lap, holding a book upside down, though holding it out to her.

Cool air hit Shepard, and her feet protested the chill of the floor. “I do?” she asked with a yawn, burying her face in the top of Merrill’s head. She smelled similarly, honeysuckle mixed in with the overpowering rosemary.

“Well... I’m glad” Shepard grinned out finally, pulling back as another yawn overtook her. She smooth a hand down Merrill’s back before pulling back a little to look down at her.

(as usual her smile was little wolfish in nature, but nothing insidious.)

this gives me life