#thedosian pottery

[espressocomfort]

New chapter up: Confirmation*

In which Malika wakes up with a gasp, following a rather intense discussion with one particular elven mage.

* Slightly NSFW Chapter

We turn, and end up walking downstairs into the lower hall. I expect Solas to lead me to the kitchens, or perhaps to the more secluded wine cellar, but we take a turn, and then another, and then he pushes a door open, revealing a dimly lit small room.

“What is this space?”

“An archive,” he replies, lighting the candle holders with a flick of his wrist. “Safely kept outside the prying eyes of the Chantry. Books on magic, records of history, both ancient and more recent, and works the Andrastians consider disreputable, are kept here.”

  No wonder I wasn’t able to find anything useful in the rotunda library.  

“The good stuff, hmm? I didn’t know they were here all this time,” I say, tracing my hand along the leatherbound volumes, itching to dig into their contents, as Solas leads me into the heart of the cobwebbed space.

“Few do,” Solas says, quietly. “And I’m intent on it remaining that way. I trust you will keep its location secret?”

A giant grimoire is splayed open on an ancient reading desk, and a high chair that looks positively medieval stands next to it. I already mentioned the cobwebs, but they are quite fetching, lit an eerie blue by the magical veilfire.

“You can depend on me to refrain from mentioning its whereabouts,” I say solemnly.

Solas nods, and looks at me, hands tucked safely behind his back. Not for the first time, I wish I was better at reading his expressions.

The air is dry, and smells of paper. There’s a static in it as well, from the veilfire I suspect, but the creeping tension at the back of my neck derives wholly from the unspoken words between us.

“Well,” we both say at the same time.

I chuckle, leaning on the bookshelf next to me with feigned nonchalance.

Chapters: 19/29 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#new chapter up #sorry I forgot to post about this over the weekend! #coiling time #solas x oc #mcit #mgit #solas/oc #dragon age #thedosian pottery

[dragonageficrecs]

Coiling Time

Title: Coiling Time

Author: Enceladus (EspressoComfort)

Rating: Explicit

Words: 138,086 – Finished

Spoilers for: DAI INCLUDING TRESPASSER DLC

Admin L’s notes:

Solas/Original Female Character (non-Inky), Solas/MGiT

Is it "Modern Girl" if the character is from a century, clearly beyond ours, that has perfected time travel, and if the character is no blushing, unsure girl? Both the premise and protagonist were very well molded. In particular, I liked how the premise (including the dictum that time travelers are observers and not shakers of history) so clearly affected the protagonist's interactions with the Inquisition members, forcing the main character to skirt around truths with a deftness equal to Solas (do not doubt that it catches his eye). Themes involving time, guilt and culpability, and community thread with immersive scenes of pottery making and tannery.

Time Travel, character of color, pottery, tannery, some angst, lots of good fluff.

Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

"Just that feeling when you’re about to go but then you’ve forgotten this particular data strand and the continuity just barely lets you pass through deflux... You know, like every molecule in your body is screaming in frustration at you over being reassembled just a little off. Oh fuck,” a wave of nausea and pain passes through me, and I accept a hot metal cup of liquid with shaking hands and a grateful sigh. “Thank you. I really must have miscalced some… something, something bad this time. Was it a timecode thing? Two days, you said?”

The man hums, as if in agreement.

“Well, there goes my plan to document hand-building techniques and drip glaze for a few months in the nineteen-seventies... Oh, this tastes nice and herb-y. Is that mint? And... Fennel seed?”

“Elfroot, mostly,” the man says, and I nod, leaning back.

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time traveling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Complete!

#solas x oc #dragon age fic recs #dai fic recs #MGiT #solas x mgit #time travel #canon compliant #representation matters #over 100k

[chride]

Please say more about thedosian pottery

Oh wow, anon, thank you for asking! I did not just spend my whole Sunday typing this together Long story short, I got inspired by the Great Pottery Throw Down to write a DA:I MGIT fic that features a potter as the POV character. But, the foolish fan of vernacular materials that I am, I didn’t want to simply invent where this person would source their materials, or what type of kiln they’d build, so I went on a deep dive of traditional homestead pottery youtube videos, wrote an essay on raku ware, sifted through my pottery notes from uni, ran around Thedas, read way too much on the wiki, and kind of ended up with this:

A “short” treatise on Thedosian Pottery, or, thoughts on ceramics in the world of Dragon Age

A caveat before we dive in: I am not a geologist, archeologist, environment artist for games nor a potter, but I dabble and am an enthusiastic educated guesser with art teacher and training. If, uh, I’ve made any substantial factual errors let me know. These are pretty much all speculations and observations since the canon lore doesn’t speak much about pottery in any form. I didn’t look at dwarven items however, or visit every area on the map, and I haven’t played all of DA2 or any of DA:O, so there is probably a wealth of pottery I’m not going to go into.

What struck me as perhaps most curious was the lack of specifically ceramic containers in the games. Ceramic wares are so common in cultures around our world that I imagined they’d be plentiful in Thedas as well. But, I came up with a theory around why this is as well:

Metals are common in Thedas, and found as rich ores or minerals close to the surface. As seen in the smeltery of DA2, the world is, while seemingly pre-industrial, manufacturing metals quite efficiently. We see plate and molded metal items such as tankards, pitchers, plates and tin cups almost everywhere from Val Royeaux to Redcliffe, to . These would be generally more durable than crockery, and are apparently quite affordable, which would mean pottery isn’t needed as much. Heck, even the spittoons at the Hanged Man are brass or copper. For less important and sturdy items, wood or glass is used - so there are some wooden cups and wooden cooking equipment, and glass bottles all around (with one exception which I’ll get to).

So, this would mean pottery would be in use mostly by peripheral cultures that perhaps do not have the means for metalworking - and indeed, it’s among the Dalish we find most pottery in the game. Visiting the Dalish encampment in the Exalted Plains, you’ll see there are jugs kept half-way in the ground, perhaps to keep them cooler. The jugs are fairly similar to those that Varric’s room at the Hanged Man contain in DA2, however, so they could just as well be stone as a light-colored stoneware clay. 

Then there are covered pots at shrines. The darkness of the finished urns suggests the material is carbonized red clay; by taking the pots out of the fire when they are red hot and dipping them in water and burning them with combustible materials such as plants. This is a reduction firing; the burning of the organic material uses up the oxygen of the oxides in the clay’s surface. The red ferric iron turns into black ferrous iron, and the pots become black, shiny, more heat-resistant and, most importantly more waterproof, which is important since low-fired clay is generally less waterproof. This type of process can be found all over the world, from Japanese or American-style raku firing, to Etruscan and Greek pottery, to contemporary African pottery. In a nomadic culture in the plains, they would probably be fired buried in a firing pit, which is a fairly slow low-firing process, or a firing pyre, which would allow easier access to the items for the carbonizing process.

The burial urns, as seen for example at Var Bellanaris, are fascinating to me - they got me thinking that perhaps pottery is not so much seen as a practical craft among the Dalish, under June, but more under Falon’Din’s jurisdiction. The urns are also more like an amphora in design in that it is not free-standing, which might be why so many of them are cracked from falling over.

In all honesty though, to test my theory further I went running around Stone Bear Hold and well, for a fairly isolated culture that uses pelts and animal hides in their armor, they sure do have the exact same metal and wood items in their kitchens as Ferelden or Kirkwall homes. So in essence, inconclusive. 

There is one type of drinking vessel that I believe is salt-glazed red stoneware. I did most of my digging for shards in Inquisition, and then thought, hey, I could take a look at what goes on in DA2, and well, it turned out that there’s a lot of recycled assets between the smaller props of the game. The same red container you’ll spot both in Gamlen’s house, in the Black Emporium, and in Var Bellanaris in DA:I. Lore-wise this would mean there’s either a whole bunch of raided Elvhen pottery in Kirkwall, or then the Dalish are okay with some Free Marcher wares in their tombs.

But, I found this one shelf that judging by how the items reflect light, there’s at least one type of thrown, glazed drinking cups in the games (DA2 & DA:I), and I believe they are salt-glazed. The second salt-glazed pottery I could find, would be the Grey Warden ritewine bottles, which there are plenty of at Skyhold:

Salt firing is a kiln-firing technique. In it, sodium is added at the end of the heating process. It vaporizes and condenses on the crockery (any surface really). It can create an orange-peel texture, or the streaky, shiny surface that we see in the game.

All of these items are red clay. Red clay is clay that is iron-rich. It’s easy to build large items from, and quite common in soil. The downside to red clay is that it does not withstand high heats, since it will melt and ultimately boil at high temperatures (past 1050 degrees C) due to the iron. This process of the clay melting is called vitrification, and it starts at around 600 degrees C, and is essential to make the ceramic wares transform from porous earthenware like flower pots to non-porous stoneware or porcelain, like plates or cups.

In Thedas, all of the Ferelden regions have Iron, and therefore I believe these are iron-rich soils and most clay would be iron-rich. However, even areas like the Forbidden Oasis and the Hissing Wastes seem iron-rich judging from how red the soil is (I assume it’s red shale, which is a sedimentary, iron-oxide containing type of rock). You’ll find red clay items in Kirkwall, and Bram Kenric has a flower pot in his window in the Frostback Basin that looks like red clay with a slip decoration. The Avvar have a pretty neat-looking statue next to Svarah Sun-Hair up in Stone-Bear Hold. 

In general, the crafting materials are a completely indecipherable mess pretty wild, and I’m definitely not through with figuring out everything, but areas with Obsidian - a felsic volcanic rock - might be iron-free. We can see some yellow pots in Val Royeaux; they are sturdy, and unglazed, so I assume there’s a sallow earthenware clay somewhere in Orlais as well. There are also some rather fascinating items at the Val Royeaux market place, so who knows - I didn’t have a good save game to run around Halamshiral in. They could be enamel metal items as well, but look like ash glazes to me:

But, what about other clays, like porcelain? Well, my most educated guess is that the continent of Thedas does not quite have it, and doesn’t quite have the craftspeople to create it. On earth, porcelain clay consists mostly of the mineral kaolinite, in its purest, ground form, kaolin, named for the Chinese village of Gaoling where it was first achieved some 1200 to 2000 years ago. It’s mixed with mica or feldspar to form porcelain clay, and fired at temperatures from 1200 to 1400 °C, and can be decorated in wonderful colorful ways. Kaolinite is very common on earth, but pure white kaolinite is not, and figuring out a recipe for a clay that gives the durability, translucency, whiteness and thinness of Chinese porcelain took Europeans very long. 

Still, from running around Thedas I noticed that in the Emerald Graves, many of the pebbles lining the paths are quite bright white. So, with that in mind, it isn’t a terrible stretch that there could be a deposit of kaolinite, and thus a possibility of porcelain. Perhaps those Dalish jugs are porcelain after all?

Anyways, thank you anon for asking! I am of course only speculating with all of these, so don’t take them for fact :’)

#wild speculation and educated guesses #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #pottery #asks

[espressocomfort]

WIP Word Search

Tagged by @crackinglamb​ ! Now that I’m back home from the US, let’s go!

Rules: search through a fic or wip to find the words prompted by the person who tagged you and share a snippet containing them.  Tag forward with three new words.

I got tagged to find the words: ‘conflict’, ‘moonlight’ and ‘dream’. I’m not much of a tagger -- but if you feel so inclined, find the words ‘glory’, ‘frustrate’ and ‘somber’!

Dream

Coiling Time — Chapter 3: “The Second Fall of Haven”

Water drips from the ceiling, and dust floats in the air. The floor is littered with aged straw and rubble, old broken pots and barrels and containers. Strange sounds echo through the vaulted corridor, and I roll my shoulders to rid myself the feeling of being watched.

I should have realized this cult is something more ominous than fanatic Christians as I pass the statues of skeletons holding swords, or pass by the locked library, but it’s only when I arrive at the end of the corridor and find the actual dungeons, and the pillories and chains littering the wall, that it truly sinks in.

An Inquisition. These people are militant, armed, and religious. That the pillories are here, not out in the open, perhaps suggests they are punishment devices of old, but- The same symbol of the sun is inscribed on the floor, in the middle of the room, and the torches are lit. While the cells are empty, I doubt they are only remnants of a dark past.

What does it all mean? Should I fear these people? How the hell can I make it through this time?

The alarm is sounded. Its sound carries, muffled through the walls, and first I consider staying where I am. Fight, flight or freeze. Decision time. You can always return next loop.

There’s a soft sound on my left, like a soothing whisper, but when I open my eyes, there’s no one there. The thought, and my alarm fades, like a half-remembered dream come morning.

Author’s note: A soft sound like a soothing whisper that helps you calm down... You guessed it, this is the first, rather cole non-sighting of a certain character.

Moonlight

Coiling Time — Chapter 23: “Before The Storm”

There’s a specific feeling of time standing still in rooms we’ve left behind. As I step into the Oriel window nook of the archer, she’s reflected in the strange bearded dragon perched atop the cabinet of wonders; she’s in the newly watered morning glory flowers, hanging haphazardly from the ceiling. Sera lingers in the stolen treasures and the soft pillows. On the low table, there’s a deck of cards, and I smile at the sight of the chapter of Swords and Shields peeking out from under it. I run my fingers over the scrap of blue silk brocade, the same that I’ve seen Lavellan wear a jacket made from. In front of the leadwork window, there’s a huge raven cage, but instead of a bird it just contains a single candle, stuck into the eye hole of an old skull. I’m about to sit down on a low bench overrun by pillows when a gust of cool night air softly chimes a bell hung below the bird cage. I turn and realize the window is open to the roof, and there, bathed in moonlight, sits Sera, leaning on the wall.

Author’s note: Breaking up is a process of grief of an imagined life; and it is that when two dear friends break up as well. I was thinking of my last visits into homes of those I’ve lost when I wrote this passage; how things that belonged to those near to us become different reminders of their impact and carry their presence. I wanted Malika to go in believing Sera had truly left, and her finding Sera still there a last chance to change her mind. I wanted it to be the place where she makes a true difference without realizing it. The passage would have been a bit too heavy and somber to actually have any effect had I gone straight into the emotional baggage, so there’s a bit of snark sprinkled in as well.

Conflict

Coiling Time — Chapter 29: “Bliss”

“It can’t be helped. Josephine warned us going into this that the Fereldans and the Orlesians wouldn’t stand having us looming at their border forever, so… Halamshiral and the Game it is. Let’s hope they don’t call for a public execution,” she laughs. “But you don’t have to come. You’ve gone far and beyond these past two years.”

“I think we established once before that you deserve all the help you can get when going into that wyvern’s den.” I reach over and tuck a strand of hair back into her braid. “There’s no force on this planet that could keep me from coming, if you want me there.”

“I was afraid you’d say something like that. Malika, I… I was only half joking about the public execution bit,” Lavellan admits, growing serious. “If… if this exalted council thing turns out to be anything like what humans have done in the past when there’s a Chantry conflict, it just…” She sighs again. “I’m afraid that you and Sera will be in danger. You know what happened to my clan, because of their connection to me. There’s no telling with humans, they don’t follow their own laws. But…We’ve also been away for too long, and the halls are filled with faces I don’t know. Half the castle staff and scouts seem to have been replaced in the months we’ve been away.  I can’t help but think you’re all in danger here, as well, at Skyhold.”

Author’s note: I truly believe playing an elf mage in Inquisition is the most fascinating and dramatic origin from a political and identity standpoint, for this particular story (Qunari being a close second), but there are so many missed opportunities for nods to the inner conflicts that arise. I get it from a game production stand point, for sure, but in fanfiction, I felt the need compelled to write a confidante for the Inquisitor that she can share these fears and insecurities with better than with her human advisors.

#word search meme #coiling time spoilers #coiling time #thedosian pottery #dragon age

[espressocomfort]

New chapter up - Chapter 21: Adamant

The grey light of morning steals Solas from me. He kisses my temple softly, and pulls the blanket over me with gentle hands as he gets up. He’s very quiet, but not quiet enough to not wake me. I open my eyes just enough to watch him put on his tunic and necklace, convinced that speaking would break the spell. 

Despite his plan not to undress, the heat of my body apparently was too much for him. Or maybe he felt some of the same comfort that carried me off into the most peaceful sleep I’ve had in years. Regardless, he’s a beautiful man, lean and strong. I watch him dress with a smile dancing on my lips.

He pauses his hands mid-fastening the belt. Perhaps, as a Fade mage, he has a sense for when someone is awake.

“Solas. Please, be careful. Please come back to me, my wolf,” I mumble.

He looks back at me with half a smile.

“As you wish,” he replies, and I fall asleep.

Chapters: 21/29 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fade Shenanigans, Fade Sex Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#new chapter #coiling time #dragon age #fanfic #thedosian pottery #solas x oc #time travel #modern girl in thedas

[espressocomfort]

   Chapter 27: The Third Favor    

The battle between the winged beasts fills the sky with ear-deafening screeches and red flames. I jump off the horse and watch as the dragons soar toward the Breach, rising ever higher. Then the dragons — there’s somehow two of them — fall, and moments later a green beam extends into the Breach with a deafening crack, just as I run the last few hundred meters to where the Inquisition stands in the shadow of the airborne ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Giant glowing crystals of red lyrium protrude from the floor of the sundered temple around me. With a rude disregard for gravity, dust and pebbles float around knee-height, suspended in the air, and this close to the Breach, that familiar disjointedness, the familiar tearing, quite like during a time fluctuation, has me gasping. 

Varric Tethras is the first one to notice me, and as I struggle to stay upright against the stars and green strands dancing at the edge of my perception and my pulse beats in my ears, the man appears at my side.

“Tardy,” he says, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“He’s up there, isn’t he? With those, those dragons?”

“Chuckles? Yeah, he is. Was pretty insistent he’d go with Lavellan to face off with big baddie.”

“Oh fuck that man’s sense of pride,” I swear and stagger against the wave of vertigo. 

“Eh, Morrigan is one of those fire-spitters. Bull and Buttercup are also there.” 

 Varric’s firm hands grab my shoulders. He peers at me from under the brim of his helmet,  a note of concern in his voice.

“You alright there, Melina?”

I can hear voices around me, the brusque commanding tone of Seeker Pentaghast among them.

“Crafter Melina? This is no place for civilians. More of Corypheus’ demons can appear any minute. Why are you here?”

“I couldn’t leave without...”

Whatever I’m trying to say is lost, as the green Breach far above us gives a deafening low-frequency sound. It expands, shooting beams of green light into nearby clouds, growing almost blinding in strength.

Chapters: 27/32 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fade Shenanigans, Fade Sex, self-gaslighting, Drinking, Past Relationship(s), POV First Person, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Alluded light BDSM Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#drgon age fanfic #solas x oc #coiling time #spoilers #coiling time spoilers #thedosian pottery #solas/oc #time travel #fanfic

[espressocomfort]

New chapter up - Chapter 20: Guide into the night*

Author’s Note - this chapter is NSFW (M/E).

In which the Inquisition throws a proper sendoff before venturing into the Western Approach. Also, high-stakes Diamondback.

My eyes fall on Solas, who sits across from me. He has remained quiet and courteous, cold almost, a mystery hand after hand, but he’s a masterful player. It’s only thanks to his insistence on not collecting his winnings that the game has kept going.

 “I raise,” he states calmly, pushing a handful of coin to the pile.

 “We’ll all be maggot food eventually,” Blackwall gruffs and pushes his stake to the middle as well.

 “I’m out,” commander Rutherford decides after a quick glance at the window where the last wisps of night wander. “Good night,” he adds, getting up.

 “Three players, huh,” Varric says with a yawn. “Alright, let’s see some dwarven nobles.”

 I turn up the Queen, hand shaking a little, then immediately drink up the last of my ale. Blackwall grunts, slamming down a King. All eyes turn to Solas. An embodiment of serenity, he reveals a Shaper.

     Could he have another one?    That would be the only combination to trump mine. I drew a Shaper during the high card draw, which means there were only three in the whole deck during play. Unlikely, very much unlikely. But, knowing my luck, that’s his hand.

 “Raise or fold, Melina?” Varric asks.

 “I’m loath to inform you, but I’m fresh out of coin. I guess that means…” I say with a shrug.

 “You could fold… Or stake something of equal value,” the dwarf suggests. His voice is tired and rounded by wine but more than a little intrigued.

 From the corner of my eye I note Solas sitting up a little straighter.

 “So. What will it be this time, Tardy?” Varric asks again.

 “This time?” Solas’s voice is dry. He hasn’t partaken in the idle conversation so far, and my eyes narrow.

 “It’s hardly my first time gambling at a high-stakes table,” I say, keeping my gaze down. I stroke my chin as if I was considering my options.

 “One could think otherwise,” he teases. But two can play at that game.

 “A kiss,” I say without raising my gaze. “Is that amenable to you, mage?”

 I look up at Solas, trying to keep my face neutral, plausibly failing, I search his face for clues, eyes resting on his lips for a moment longer than strictly necessary. Is that a hint of a smile? I bite my lip, trying to ignore the somersaults and warmth in my belly.

 “It was only at five silver, Tardy. Either you’re very affordable, or stake’s now at 50,” Varric comments.

 “‘m out,” Blackwall mutters, and staggers off pint first.

 Solas looks up from his cards, meeting my challenge, and while I feel like a rabbit caught between headlights I don’t look away.

 “I…” he wets his lips, and my eyes flicker down. The way he slowly drags his fingers over the top of his card doesn’t escape my notice. “... fold,” he offers.

 “Ha!” I exclaim, blowing a playful kiss at Solas who responds with a huff.

 “And so the potter takes the pot,” Varric says with a wide smile, but his eyes dart between me and Solas.

 “The Fade calls. Thank you for the game. Master Tethras. Crafter Melina,” Solas says, voice all business, and moves to get up.

 “Stay put,” I say, voice all honey, “the next round’s on me. Victor’s treat. Varric, red wine I assume? And Solas,” I look at the man, “you look like a man who appreciates an aged Jader port.”

 “Hold mine for when we’re back,” Varric says and pulls on his gloves, and gets up, rolling his shoulders. “It’s been a pleasure. Chuckles. Early morning, don’t stay up all night, kids,” he adds with a wink my way.

Crossing my arms in an act of childish defiance, I stick out my tongue at the dwarf, and I can hear his laugh until the door slams shut. Varric was the last of the Inquisitor’s inner circle to turn in for the night, and I suddenly become very aware that I’m left alone at the table with Solas.

Chapters: 20/29 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#coiling time #thedosian pottery #solas x oc #solas/oc #mcit #mgit #dragon age fanfiction

[espressocomfort]

I got tagged by one @crackinglamb​ ! It’s Thursday in my time zone, so it’s a WIP whenever at this point.

I’ve been told my tavern scenes are lovely, so, this week you’re getting a little celebratory snippet from a future chapter of Coiling Time, one which I’m currently working on... 

After hours of wine and dance and food, the party has broken off into smaller tables. I set down the two tankards and take my seat between Arcanist Dagna and Maryden, across from Ser Morris, Harritt and Elan Ve’mal. Her and Cabot’s one-year-old, a round-faced and happy little boy with dark curls, bounces happily on her lap. 

“Oh, to be young and betrothed. Well,” the botanist adds, “It’s not half bad being a little older and betrothed either. But look at them, not a wrinkle on their faces. What are they, twenty?”

“Can’t be much more,” Harritt says.

“Twenty and two, I think,” Dagna corrects.

“Practically children,” I say, shaking my head. “Way too young to get married.”

“You got some experience with that?” the dwarf asks, taking a sip of her pint, but then she flinches, and looks to Maryden. Her expression settles on embarrassed. 

I follow the weird exchange, then clear my throat. The table turns to look at me.

“I made many mistakes in my youth,” I admit. “But, getting married was never one of them. I think. How about you, Dagna?”

“You think?” she asks with a laugh.

“It depends on your definition of married. I never made vows, but…” I add vaguely.  “Well, Dagna?”

She blows out her cheeks, eyebrows raised, then sighs.

“My father planned to marry me off for the biggest dowry. Well, that was before I went topside and ran off to a Circle to study. It broke his heart, I think, that I became a surfacer. I don’t regret it, one bit,” she adds with a shrug, “I know everyone shared their stories about how the Inquisitor changed them, but my life would be quite different if I’d never met the Hero of Ferelden. I’d probably still be in Orzammar, married to some… man. I’m more of a ladies’ girl. There’s this Red Jenny I quite like,” she adds, eyes turning dreamy, “and I’m not sure if she’s trying to get with me or trying to recruit me but… Morris, how about you?”

“I am unwed,” Morris answers. “But I am betrothed, since Wintersend,” he adds, picking out a ring on a cord around his neck from under layers of ruffled fabric. “And… Master Harritt? How about you?”

“Eh. Never had much time for a wife. Maybe once this all ends. Had a good offer from one of the Guilds in Orlais.”

“I can’t really picture you in Orlais,” I admit.

“Offer for a wife or for a job?” Dagna asks.

Harritt winks, and turns to greet the tavern keeper who arrives at the table. Cabot sets down the rest of the table’s drinks, and picks up his son, wiping at the jam around his mouth with his tea towel, an uncharacteristically soft expression on his face.

“What’s the word, Cabot?” Dagna asks.

Cabot hoists the boy up to give him a good sniff, much to the child’s delight.

“Malodorous. Time for this tadpole’s bath,” Cabot grunts.

#wip whenever #coiling time #thedosian pottery #dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #fanfiction #dragon age dagna

[espressocomfort]

Chapter 23: The Dread Wolf and the Bone   

Carefully, I pick up the jug and wet the brush, picking up more ground iron oxide.

 “One time, it’s a mistake. Two times,” I make a decisive stroke next to the accidental one, “A coincidence. But three times,” I add one short stroke under the two, “and it’s a pattern,” I finish and set down the pitcher.

 Solas hums, his hand moves up my arm to my shoulder.

 “And if I were to apply that same theory...” he says.

 He leans in, and presses his lips to my neck. A shiver runs down my spine, and I swallow.

 “A mistake,” I breathe, a smile forming on my lips despite how wrong it feels.

 He chuckles, and his lips move up my neck.

 “A coincidence,” I whisper, as his teeth graze my skin, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a mark. He lightly brushes his tongue on the bite, and his hand moves up my side to cradle my breast.

 His mouth moves higher up, to the divot under my ear, and I sigh my eyes closed.

 “Yes?” he whispers.

 “Well… It wouldn’t hold water scientifically, but with a few more data points to judge from...”

 “You are a tease,” he whispers, and takes my face into his hands, leaning in to kiss me.

Chapters: 23/32 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fade Shenanigans, Fade Sex Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#new chapter #note: this chapter is SFW and this excerpt is frustratingly teasing #coiling time #solas x oc #solas/oc #MCiT #modern girl in thedas #dragon age fanfiction #thedosian pottery #sorry about the late post!

[espressocomfort]

Chapter 22: Feels Like Home

The moon stands high above the Riverside camp as I take the last three of the stone stairs and step out on the ramparts. Among the sharp and blue shadows, it takes a moment for me to spot the dwarf. 

Varric doesn’t move as I lean onto the wall next to him, staring out over the mountainous landscape, and the river upon which the moon has painted a sallow bridge. His aura always struck me as strange; a low, orange flame, the most stable I’ve ever seen. Except for tonight, when there’s a syncopated pulse to it. 

“Tardy,” he says in acknowledgment of my presence after a while.

“Varric,” I reply, and offer him the bottle of wine in my hand. 

He chuckles, but shakes his head.

“Let me guess. Lavellan told you,” he says.

I take a mouthful of the wine. 

“Our Lana? Not in any shape to explain, I’m afraid. No, I thought I’d go right to the source,” I say. When Varric doesn’t say anything, I add: “She mentioned... Hawke.”

“Mmmh,” Varric grunts, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

I pull my knitted shawl closer on my shoulders.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Want to? No.”

Chapters: 22/32 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fade Shenanigans, Fade Sex Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#new chapter #coiling time #thedosian pottery #solas x oc #time travel #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #fanfic

[espressocomfort]

 Chapter 17: E. Lavellan, and Missing a Linear Fool 

In which Malika learns what happened in the Exalted Plains. Also, more pottery.

Chapters: 17/29 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

"Just that feeling when you’re about to go but then you’ve forgotten this particular data strand and the continuity just barely lets you pass through deflux... You know, like every molecule in your body is screaming in frustration at you over being reassembled just a little off. Oh fuck,” a wave of nausea and pain passes through me, and I accept a hot metal cup of liquid with shaking hands and a grateful sigh. “Thank you. I really must have miscalced some… something, something bad this time. Was it a timecode thing? Two days, you said?”

The man hums, as if in agreement.

“Well, there goes my plan to document hand-building techniques and drip glazes for a few months in the nineteen-seventies... Oh, this tastes nice and herb-y. Is that mint? And... Fennel seed?”

“Elfroot, mostly,” the man says, and I nod, leaning back.  

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery? Updates Saturdays.

#new chapter #coiling time #thedosian pottery #dragon age fanfiction #solas x oc #solas/oc #mgit #modern character in thedas

[espressocomfort]

WIP Wednesday

Hello hello my beautiful lovelies! I got tagged by @crackinglamb​, thank you ! 💙

I’ve been MIA for a few weeks trying to deal with a full-time job and a thesis and a, oh, I don’t know, pandemic (gotta love the pandemic) but let’s see if I have anything.

I don’t have a WIP at a stage where I want to show it. So, what you’re getting instead, is a deleted scene from my Coiling Time Graveyard document. A graveyard is an editing tool that makes you better at killing your darlings -- it’s  a document into which you put anything that you think isn’t needed in your story, but which you don’t just want to poof out of existence.

This scene takes place between chapter 13 and chapter 14, on the road back to Skyhold.

My notes on the reason of removing this scene:

Messes up the pacing

This sequence didn’t make sense with the chapter structure.

And also, very graphical

You have been warned -- There’s blood here.

Doesn’t add much tension-wise either

On a surface level, this could be seen as a good setup for a few scene; there’s stakes (life and death, even), there’s staying undercover, and there’s a moment of getting over yourself. But, I realized, tension in this arc -- the Winter Palace arc -- is based on the evolving relationship between Solas and Malika. That’s hard to build if one of the characters is unconscious.

In the end, I integrated many of the core narrative beats present here into the end of chapter 13. And overall, I’m in love with how the chapters flow into each other, so, I think I made the right decision.

That said, enjoy this alternative take~

---

Water runs down my face as I hurry across the muddy and slippery road to look at the wheel of the cart. Most of it is from the rain, at least that’s what I tell myself.

“If we go on, it could come clean off,” Barth laments and gives the piece of wood an apologetic kick. “Strakes are too worn out, tire’s holding on by rust alone. I’m sorry, missus. I was going to fix it, but we had to leave in such a hurry.”

It’s barely past noon, but dark, as if night is about to start falling despite the clouds above us giving all they can. 

“It’s not your fault Barth.” I have to raise my voice to make myself heard over the rain. “What are our options?”

“We won’t find a wheelwright before Orzammar. I have a spare in the trunk, but I’ll need some hands, and a stock for the cart to lean on. Do you think your man can take it, if we stop for the night at the next farm we find?”

I bite my lip, and look at the old man in his oilskin jacket and wide-brimmed hat.

“Mistress Oleana?”

“That’s not my name,” I say quietly. “We’re travelling undercover.”

“Ach. And that staff isn’t for herding sheep. Oh I see. Is it yours or his?”

I hesitate, then settle for honesty.

“His. We’re with the Inquisition.”

“Not a spirit healer then, or he wouldn’t be lying in my carriage. That won’t win you many favors around here. And you’re elves at that. Your markings are running off, so you are not Dalish either. Hmm,” he says without breaking eye contact. My heart sinks.

“There will be coin, I can promise you that,” I say, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“I don’t need your coin.”

“Please, master Barth. I can’t… I can’t lose… him.”

“Hmm,” he mutters with a sigh. “See, my daughter just lost her beloved. There was going to be a wedding, and all, and then she fell to frost-cough. It won’t happen on my watch, not if I can help it. But,” he gives the wheel another kick, “The wheel won’t repair itself. Just like your man will need a healer.”

“He is not my man,” I correct him, but I agree to a stop.

As I step back into the carriage my eyes go to Solas, and I feel the blood draining from my own face when I see how pale he’s grown. It seems he’s tried to move, and he’s lying on the carriage floor. 

“No, no, no,” I whisper.

His breathing is shallow against my hand, and his skin is too cold against mine. There is blood, far too much blood; his whole left arm is drenched in it, as it seeps through the makeshift bandage stained dark.

My throat constricts. I know next to nothing about most medicine, but I can tell it’s bad. How much bloodloss is too much to survive? And what will the poison do to this man? 

“Master Barth, hurry, please,” I shout, and start ripping my cloak to make more bandages.

---

The Fereldan farmer is happy to lend master Barth a hand, and begrudgingly borrows me a lantern, a kettle of steaming water, a vat and some fresh linen at the sight of my bloody hands. Barth manages to talk us into some spindleweed and elfroot as well.

I thank the men and hurry back to the carriage through the sleet that covers the walkway from his house. It’s a low one, far less opulent than the estates near the coast of the Shining Sea, and the lights are low inside. The farmer’s herd of druffalo stands grazing, unfazed by the rain. The rest of the farm are mere silhouettes, erased by the rain. 

Water runs down my spine, and my heart is beating on the skin of my chest. My eyes won’t focus on his shape as I carefully unload the kettle, the covered oil-wick lantern and linen down on my bench in the carriage. I draw a deep breath and sit down on my knees next to him, washing my hand and knife in a bit of scalding water.

“Solas? I’m going to relay the bandages now,” I try to keep my voice steady. 

He doesn’t react to my voice, but he hasn’t all day, but where his face was serene in sleep just yesterday, today there’s an anguish in the furrow between his eyebrows, a despair in the dark circles around his eyes. Drops of sweat glitter at his forehead and scalp, and his lips are parted by his shallow, sharp breaths.

I swallow and start ripping the fabric to bandage shreds, using my knife to dent the woven linen. My fingers protest when I dip some of them in the steaming water to sterilize them, not at all sure if it’s the right thing to do. My hands won’t stop shaking once I’m done with the preparations.

I softly turn him to see what I’m working with, bringing the lantern close to the injury. The new bandages made from my cloak have also been bled through, but only around his upper arm. There is more dried blood on his tunic than fresh, some of which has even found its way onto the dried jawbone he uses as a necklace. I gently lift it off, lest it get in the way.

The farmer’s gruff voice carries from outside.

“Let’s get this carriage up then, you heave, I’ll roll.”

The carriage jilts, and I spill steaming water on my feet. Hissing at the pain I start to peel off the last layer of bandages. I lay the bloody rags of what used to be my cloak aside and start peeling off my shawl.

Blood pools immediately when I lift the soiled shawl away, and I quickly push in my blade between the last strip of fabric keeping the tunic on his shoulder, and with shaking fingers I peel the sleeve away to get better access.

It’s a nasty wound, jagged and long, of unknown depth, running over his shoulder blade and across his upper arm. Pouring the whole kettle over the wound would perhaps be an efficient way to clean away the dried and coagulated blood off his skin, but it would probably result in burns, so instead I quickly try my best to clean the edges with a towel. New blood runs down his arm. The smell is nauseating.

Either I will get this done, or this man might bleed to death. It’s this realisation that fills me with a chilling sense of calm. Drawing a deep breath I start laying the bandages, concentrating on the muffled  voices of the men, and the rain falling outside, while I let my hands do the work.

It’s rather easy, really.

The wound is deepest at the shoulder, and I expect hardest to bandage, so I start there. Awkwardly I start wrapping the linen, all the way around his chest, struggling to lift him enough to get the roll under him.

“Been hoping for an early spring, Maker willing we’ll get to planting come Wintersend.”

“Hmm. Maker willing. The Grand Tourney couldn’t start sooner.”

“I just hope our chevaliers will take the Celebrant again. My family’s originally from Val Firmin, see. I went last year, Cumberland hosted the games. Saved up all summer, I did.”

“Vraiment, un autre pauvre orlésien en Férelden,” Barth says, switching to what sounds like French. 

I have no idea what to do with the herbs, so I pull the leaves off the dried sprigs and wet them with some of the hot water in the wat. The spindleweed swells and becomes jelly-like almost immediately, like wakame. I stretch the palm-sized pieces over the wound. I add the elfroot leaves on top, and start wrapping the bandage.

#coiling time #deleted scenes #dragon age fanfic #WIP Wednesday #dragon age #thedosian pottery #medical #blood and such

[espressocomfort]

Chapter 31: Trespassing

The candles burn low at the tavern when Lavellan finally joins us and interrupts a lazy hand of Diamondback. She sits down with a sigh, between me and Varric, across from Dorian. Prying a baguette apart with her fingers, she gives a frustrated sigh. 

“It’s not enough. The Exalted Council is still going ahead.”

“What? If a qunari infiltration plot and enough bombs to blow the Winter Palace to rubble isn’t enough, what is?” Varric bursts.

I drop my cards to show I’m out, and offer Ellana the butter and marmalade with a sympathetic shrug. She attempts a smile, but the justified anger keeps the corners of her mouth level. She draws a deep breath, then lets the air out.

“Josie and Cullen believe this is something for us to investigate internally. Leliana agrees. They think we can’t jeopardize the negotiations. They don’t seem to think I’m serious when I say I plan to disband the Inquisition.”

“You are?” Dorian asks. “Raise,” he adds, pushing a coin to the pile on the table.

“Mmm-hmm. I didn’t want any of this,” Ellana says and pulls at the red uniform. “Or this,” she says, peeling the glove off her blackened, marked hand. The glowing green cracks stretch all the way down to her elbow. I avert my eyes from the bright green light. Since it had the strange discharge in the chamber underneath the tower, the glow hasn’t subsided. A crackle like electricity runs from her thumb to her index finger, and she winces. “And with everything we’ve seen… Look. I don’t think we should decide the fate of the world. I don’t think we should play gods.”

“So… When the Exalted Council ends, you won’t be Inquisitor anymore?” Varric asks, and nods at Dorian to accept the bid.

She shrugs, and takes my wine goblet.

“I never wanted to be,” she says simply.

If Ellana stops being Inquisitor, then... What does that mean for me? I swallow and look down at my calendarium.

“Well, I believe it is my wedding night,” Ellana says, downing my wine. “And I have a very beautiful wife waiting for me. We’ll explore more of the Crossroads in the morning.”

“Give Sera my best,” Varric chuckles.

Chapters: 31/32 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Solas (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Original Characters, Varric Tethras, Josephine Montilyet, Sera (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Dorian Pavus Additional Tags: Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Minor Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Background Relationships, Minor Sera/Lavellan, Minor Hawke/Varric, Time Travel, pottery, Viscera, Spoilers, Not Canon Compliant, swearing in elvhen, swearing in Swedish, Older Protagonist, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fade Shenanigans, Fade Sex, self-gaslighting, Drinking, Past Relationship(s), POV First Person, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Alluded light BDSM Summary:

Coiling Time aka. the Thedosian Pottery fic

Following what appears to be a mishap with her calendarium, time travelling 22nd century researcher Malika finds herself in Thedas during the Inquisition. Staying undercover proves hard however, despite your training, when you've caught the interest of a certain stoic elven mage... Also, pottery?

#new chapter up! #coiling time #spoiler warning: it's long #solas x oc #thedosian pottery #mcit #mgit #modern character in thedas

[espressocomfort]

WIP Whenever

@crackinglamb​ tagged me! Oih! If you - reading this - feel so inclined, feel tagged!

... And what you’re getting is a little scene from a future chapter of Coiling Time:

“The one who waits for something good, never waits too long,” I snap at Sera as she reaches for one of the steaming buns in the basket. The kitchen is teeming with people preparing the night’s feast, and I give one of the cooks an apologetic smile.

“But’m hurt!” she wails as I hoist the baked goods out of reach. My wooden spoon taps the crown of her head.

“It’s been over a month. And, you’ll be more hurt if you try to steal one again!”

“But...”

“Besides,” I interrupt her with a smile, “they don’t taste like anything much before we stuff them with jam and cream.”

She grunts and blows a raspberry at me. I shake the wooden spoon and narrow my eyes.

“What are you doing in the kitchens anyways, Sera? Are you hiding from Ellana? Thank you Mary,” I address one of the Haven refugees who hands me a bowl to whip the cream in.

“No! Uh-uh. What, what reason would I have to hide from Lana?”

Her eyes shift to inspect a colander of brussel sprouts.

“Hmm,” I say, pouring the fresh cream over into a bowl. “A little bird told me you shared some kisses. Plural.”

“Wha’ bird?”

“Let’s say one with horns and magnificent abdominal muscles. There was also the case of the wide open window a few weeks back, to back up the rumors. Now before you bugger off to pester Bull,” I say quickly, “tell me. What are your intentions with her?”

“It... We’re just having fun, yeah?” she says, without meeting my eyes. 

“Sera.”

“Bumping bits don’t have to mean anything!”

“Does she know you’re just having fun?”

“Yeah, I reckon? It’s not like courtship, we’re not trading secret flowers, and shite, y’know? I don’t...” she says with a confident smile but her eyes flick back to the brussel sprouts as she laughs, “No one looks at me and thinks, yeah, this one’s worth bouquets, and frilly cakes and sonnets. More like, ‘there once was a maid of Denerim town’...  You know?”

I look at the young archer, and draw a breath.

“Sera, this is definitely not the best place or time for this conversation, but you do know you deserve love, right? Everyone does. Don’t break her heart. Don’t break your own either. Talk to her.”

“Yeah right,” Sera mutters as she gets up. She blows another raspberry my way, and makes an impatient dart for the buns.

#wip whenever #coiling time #thedosian pottery #dragon age fanfiction #I dare you to finish Sera's limerick ;)

[espressocomfort]

Six Sentence Sunday

I decided I felt tagged by @dreadfutures, and there was a bit of progress today, so have a little uh, taste of what’s to come~

Spinning on my heel, I bring my staff down on the archer who is my actual target, but my reach isn’t far enough. I only manage to tap the bowman on the shoulder, knocking his first arrow off balance, as time starts running again.

“Malika!”

I turn just in time to see Lavellan’s horrified expression as her arrow leaves her bow, headed straight for my heart, where moments earlier an enemy rogue stood. I try to slow time, as I turn, but I’m not fast enough. My arm goes slack, and the quarterstaff in my hand starts its slowed down drop to the ground, as the arrow sinks deep into my shoulder.

#small adjustments here to avoid the biggest spoilers ;) #might delete later #six sentence sunday #coiling time #thedosian pottery #cw: violence

[espressocomfort]

Haven’t celebrated a word count increase in a while, but heck!! 111111 is a pretty neat one to land on at the end of the night~

Some of the later chapters are finally getting drafted. We have an acceptable draft of chapter 25, an outline and scenes for chapters 26, and a start of a first draft on chapter 27. And while I’m slow, and writing out of order, that’s still some word count to be at, huh 👀

Have a little uh snippet of the scene I was writing that pushed me over 111k:

“Shall we, then,” Dorian says with a smile and gestures me to take a drink as well. “For old time’s sake. We’re perfectly tucked out of sight.”

“To your health,” I scoff in Orlesian and set down the tray on the marble railing.

“And to yours,” he replies, and we down the expensive liquor in unison. “So, Malika, I never had the chance to ask you…”

“Yes?”

“How did a respectable elven woman as yourself come to switch from a Tevene name to a Dwarven one?”

“Watch who you’re calling respectable, Vint.”

“Well?”

“Melina was a name I gave myself. Malika is the name my parents gave me. We don’t always like what our parents give us. It means queen,” I add. “And believe it or not, but they named me that for… a renowned group of bards,” I say with a small smile, and take another cup of the sweet citrus spirit, considering whether explaining Freddie Mercury to Dorian would make the man implode.

Dorian barks a laugh.

“Well. I shan’t blame you for assuming an alias.”

“You’re one to speak. A man whose family name is peacock, Pavus.”

He sighs.

“Well. It’s actually lord Pavus now.”

“My condolences,” I say.

We look out over the gathering crowds.

“You’ll be going back to Tevinter once this is done with?”

“Yes. There’s… Politics to be tended to. A Magisterium to reform.”

“All in a day’s work.”

#coiling time #thedosian pottery #WIP Wednesday #fresh off the keyboard lol