closed ||

[nonsibi]

WHO: Frédérique Durfort-Lacapalette and Bellamy Blake
WHAT: Freddie likes plants. Bellamy is gathering plants for Clarke. their plants get mixed up! oh no! this is a meet cute so later Bellamy can carry Freddie's shopping bags in Kirkwall.
WHEN: Draconis (non darkest timeline, just regular time)
WHERE: outside of Skyhold
NOTES: n/a!

Spindleweed, Clarke had said. It grows by bodies of water, but see if anyone will trade for it first.

Which is how Bellamy has come to be here, kicking rocks into the shallow streambed and crouching down to move aside the hardy greenery that don't match Clarke's hastily-scribbled illustration. As common as spindleweed might be, there isn't exactly a bustling market scene in Skyhold, at least not one bustling enough to stock every herb and plant healers might be interested in.

Truthfully, Bellamy appreciates the mission. His satchel is already stuffed mostly full of the spindleweed, but he's determined to bring back the biggest bounty for Clare to use. He's not good at idleness, and truthfully, if it weren't for Clarke, he'd have gone back to the Frostbacks a long time ago. But Clarke is here, and however much Octavia and the others might need him, Clarke needs him more. And Clarke knows Bellamy--which means the task she's set him might be half-invented, some plant she pretended to need just to give him a sense of purpose. No matter how many times she assured him that the need for the spindleweed was real, he was suspicious of just the opposite.

But he's also out here, looking, because he likes having something to do. Hunting, he's grown better at that, now that the task largely falls to him. Training, sure, for as long as he can stand the other Templars and pretend at a kind of cooperative camaraderie that he doesn't feel at all. This is better.

All the same, he's no less cautious. Which is why when he hears the scuffle of falling rock, some ways ahead, he grabs for his dagger--at first just a hand on it, but when the rockfall is followed by a muttered curse, his fingers curl tighter. Not a demon. Still an unknown. Crouched on the ground, he leans just slightly forward, to peer around the boulder that stands between him and whoever else is out here.