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ex-textura · 21 days

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Hi hello! Any fun facts you would like to share about your characters? (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Eli~!

[i'm sorry this has taken me so long i've been picking away at this since you sent it 😶 apologies for the verbosity, but you got me started and i couldn't stop lmao]

I have SO MANY facts I want to share about my characters 👀 are they fun? ehhhhh. They sure are facts.

The big scar on Auric's face is from his sister's ex. He was jealous and abusive and the one time he flew into a rage in Auric's presence, he stepped in and took the hits so she could run. He almost died then. When he woke up his head was in her lap, he was surrounded by blood, and the abusive ex was dead.

He and Gale settled down after the events of the game, got married, and opened a tavern outside of Waterdeep with his sister and her love, Halsin. They have a teleportation circle in the basement connected to Gale's tower and they basically treat it like a guest house. They've also set up a place for Astarion in the basement so he can stay there whenever he's handy. He still doesn't really like Astarion, but his sister pleaded and he couldn't say no.

Ciaran collected every poetry book, love letter, and diary he could find once he started to get feelings for Gale. He also bothered everyone in the party constantly(Gale included) about what love is, how do you know that's what you're feeling, what do you do about it? He had no frame of reference for love so the whole thing was completely foreign to him. He was like an alien trying to learn human customs. He thought he was being sneaky.

Now that he's no longer trying to die all the time, he's taken up painting and gotten pretty damn good at it, too.

Jinx is 43 years old. Technically.

His skin used to be more red, but a wild magic surge turned him blue and the colour never totally faded.

He's demisexual

Fully incapable of picking up when he's being flirted with. He doesn't think he's handsome, or ugly. He's just Jinx.

He'll try literally anything once, so he let Astarion bite him, and then let him drain him because he'd never been bitten by a vampire before, and never died before. He turned him down for sex though because "I've already had gay sex before :) thanks though!" Astarion is still reeling from that one.

Amaris is one half of a splintered soul. They grew up with their other half as their best friend and had no idea.

The illithid abduction went funky and rather than just scooping them up into the nautiloid, it shunted them into an entirely different, mirrored reality. It wasn't until before the push on moonrise that they learned the truth.

Their best friend and other half had a massive crush on the infamous Gale of Waterdeep that they used to give her hell about all the time. Until they met him, and fell for him too.

Luckily, due to alternate universe fuckery, they each got a Gale and everyone is happy.

Naught is something of an urban legend to people who travel the roads outside Baldur's Gate. He hunted highwaymen with the help of his birds Quothe and Madge. Known only as The Raven on account of the only warning of their presence being a ruffle of feathers and the cry of ravens before the arrows would start flying.

He took payment for his heroism in money, food, or sex. Whatever was on offer.

Before they hit Baldur's Gate and rented out the Elfsong they hadn't slept in a bed in over 10 years.

Their boyfriend was teaching him to read before the fire that killed him and sent Naught on the run. As such, the lad still can't fucking read.

Apparently their type is nerds who are older than him.

Jack married his ex-wife when he was 18.

Has two kids - a son and a daughter - and a grandchild on the way.

His job in the city was general labour. Lifting, fixing, building, cleaning. Anything that paid.

His ex-wife, and therefore his kids, are dwarves. He's 6'5. There's a bit of a height difference there.

He plays the drums.

Ilztaufein is a name he gave himself after escaping the fall of Ched Nasad.

He'd only been training as a wizard for about 10 years when he left. Still though, he thinks he's hot shit and won't hear otherwise.

The only wizard he thinks is better than himself is Gale. Elminster is a nobody in his eyes.

He's 5'4!

For all his big talk he's kind of terrified of women and will automatically obey any order given to him by any of the women in the party. Except for Shadowheart..who he killed......And Mystra... who he's got plans for.

He's been researching the gods after hearing Mystra's order for Gale's sacrifice. He wants to usurp her.

Most of his work on the surface has been in and around Waterdeep, and he's been to Blackstaff Academy a number of times in that time, in disguise, trading information.

He doesn't understand how humans age.

He's never seen a cat in person until they entered Last Light. He's obsessed with them (they're regal, vicious, fancy little bitches. Just like him). The first time he sees one with fur he's going to lose his damn mind.

He's never been with a human before. It's only been drow and the occasional surface elf. Gale's body hair is magical to him and he's not at all subtle about it.

He's 6'2.

Muse more or less adopted Flair - his partner in crime - when they were still teenagers. He saw this homeless kid trying to flirt with him after one of his shows and, like one might with a pet, decided this one was his and took her in. He taught her everything he knew about flirting, manipulation, and getting away with it.

Astarion clocked them both as thieves right away when they met Gale and immediately started trying to use thieves cant to communicate to each other that he was the perfect mark, and whose turn it was to do the flirting.

They caught on that Astarion was on to them later, so Muse was tasked with distracting him, lest Astarion rat them out or, worse, take their mark out from under their noses.

Absolutely devastated when Astarion started using the same tactics on him that he'd used on his targets and that shit actually worked.

He's really bad at the whole...feeling your real genuine emotions...thing. He's been writing songs about Astarion trying to sort out his feelings, rather than..yknow. talking to anyone. at all. ever.

He got really mad at Flair when she started giving Gale expensive items so he wouldn't explode. He voted to send the wizard to the underdark cause he wasn't worth the trouble.

He smells like patchouli and vanilla.

#i'm sorry i got so wordy?#especially at the end?#these aren't fun facts anymore i'm just infodumping #asks #my ocs #oc: auric #ciaran finch #oc: amaris #oc: jinx #oc: naught #oc: jack torada #oc: ilztaufein #oc: muse #oh god i have so many #thank you for the ask I had so much fun rambling!!

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desdemonafictional · 2 months

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Post canon WIP (Scene 1)

“I’ve been thinking,” Kabru said.

Annoyingly, Laios did not look up from the encyclopedia he was flipping through. He’d had a wistful, almost pained expression on his face for the last several minutes as he paged through the book that Mithrun had leant them. It was a detailed record of monsters known in the west, their appearances and habits and weaknesses, aimed at an audience of future Canaries destined for the dungeons of the outside world.

At first Laios had been thrilled, commenting constantly on this fact or that fact, and the quality of illustrations, and points where he happened to know the encyclopedia had gotten something wrong. But bit by bit, he’d gone quiet. And now he simply sat there, with that look on his face, as if the book hurt him to touch.

Kabru sat down on the edge of the table and placed his finger over the page.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said again.

Laios looked up.

“I know this life isn’t the one you wanted,” Kabru said. “We’re all grateful… I’m especially grateful, for what you’ve done. And I know… how it is with desires, I’ve seen what it costs to give up a part of yourself. But I’ve said this to someone else before—maybe the thing you used to want is beyond you now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have new desires. New interests.”

Laios gave him a tired look. “You’re talking about my curse,” he said. “Kabru, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it. At the end of the day, there’s still books and things.” He gestured at the encyclopedia, as if it hadn’t just been making him miserable. “Just because I can’t see monsters up close anymore doesn’t mean I want to forget about them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kabru said. “I meant—without giving up on monsters, you can have other, different things as well, right?”

He slid the book aside, carefully marking the page before closing it.

“Let me teach you about people,” Kabru said. “People are really interesting! A human bite is functionally poisonous, and humans are actually very difficult to kill despite having no natural weapons—the things a human can do, not just dwarves and elves but tallmen too, and halflings—we’re amazing animals, incredibly adaptable, physiologically and mentally.”

“I don’t know,” Laios said, “humans are…”

Kabru considered him for a moment, appraising his uneasy, twisted expression. There were bits he’d learned about Laios, here and there, that suggested a story that Kabru had never dared ask directly about.

“Let me guess,” Kabru said, “and tell me if I’m wrong. Humans are something other to you, right? Something irrational. Alien. Humans took your childhood and destroyed it. Humans drove you from your home, hurt the people you loved. The harm came out of nowhere, without explanation, and you were powerless against it. You lived in fear of them, and even now, in some ways, you’re still afraid. Deep down, you find the idea of them revolting.”

Laios��s face was white. His fingers clenched in the fabric of his trousers, bloodless.

“Am I making the comparison clear enough?” Kabru asked.

“I don’t…” Laios said. “You’re not revolting to me.”

As much as he’d like to say otherwise, some small part of Kabru was relieved to hear it. Laios had said he liked him, had called him a friend, but Laios was so difficult to understand sometimes. And Kabru worried. He had always worried, ever since he met Laios.

“Thanks,” Kabru said, making light of it. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Laios didn’t smile. “The Winged Lion said some similar things to me,” he admitted. “And it’s true, there have been times in my life when I hated humans, when I wished for—um. Things that would probably scare you. But I also… know that I can’t ever really give up on being a human. Not just because of the curse…”

Laios ran his fingers through the downy feathers at the neck of his cloak, as if he was soothing himself.

“When I was a kid, I wanted to stop being human so badly it hurt. But when I was transformed, all I did was kill—I didn’t recognize anyone, not even the people I wanted to save most in the world. What I really wanted, all along, was to have it both ways. To be a monster, and also be myself.”

Taking a chance, Kabru reached out and took Laios’s hand. Broad and narrow, pale and dark, but they had the same callouses. He gave a squeeze.

“If you look at it the right way, I think you can have it both ways,” Kabru said. “Sort of.”

Laios frowned up at him.

“Let’s think about humans as a kind of monster,” Kabru went on. “What are their habits? Their strengths? What drives them, what makes them act like they do? I’ll teach you. Like I said, it’s really very interesting. Humans are driven by instinct as much as any other animal. They have predictable behaviors, once you understand the mechanisms.”

He squeezed again and then let go.

“Hunger, attraction, territoriality—We like to think we’re different than other creatures, but we’re really not,” Kabru said. “We’re just a bit more complicated, because of language.”

He opened the encyclopedia back up and paged through until he found the direwolf Laios had been chattering about earlier. “You said direwolves have a social family structure, just like humans. And just like humans, they can have abusive family dynamics, right? If the lead female bullies the younger females, the younger ones might rise up and kick her out of the pack, isn’t that what you said? So then, sometimes they don’t rise up. Why only sometimes?”

Laios blinked at Kabru’s finger. “You were listening to that?”

“I told you,” Kabru said. “I want to understand. When I watch you, I believe that there must still be some value in monsters. If you see something beautiful in them, then there must be something beautiful in them.”

He considered the illustration for a long moment, each tuft of fur with its own graceful motion, the detail rendered so closely, with such care of knife against block print.

“Things that are frightening can also be beautiful, don’t you think?”

#dungeon meshi #spoilers

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aragornsrockcollection · 2 years

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I would super love it if Felak-Gundu were, like, a mythological dwarven figure by the end of the third age, and none of them know he’s based on an elf who really existed.

Like in stories he’s a joly dwarf with a beard so full of jewels it looks more like an elaborate necklace, and in a comic mash-up of Finrod killing a werewolf with his teeth and Nargathrond falling to Glaurung, Felak-Gundu gets swallowed by a dragon but bites his way out, killing the dragon. And he has other silly adventures, because he’s mostly a story for children, and 2+ ages worth of bedtime story embellishment has taken place.

Elrond finds this out when he’s compiling his library at Imladris, and it is absolutely his favorite thing that has ever happened because of the giant game of telephone that is history amongst mortals. The dwarves he learns about the legends from just laugh at him when he tried to explain who Finrod was (You elves think everything is about elves!)

Celebrian collects illustrated childrens books about her uncle the dwarf’s misadventures, and Elrond packs them and sends them with her when she sails to Valinor. Which means when she feels better she can have the joy of introducing Finrod to his alter ego.

Gimli is extremely skeptical of this when he hears about it from Arwen (I don’t think Galadriel would have brought it up in the limited time he knew her before she sailed), thinking at most, it’s such an old legend, they probably nick-named Finrod affectionately after the character if anything.

And then he goes to Valinor and there is an elf there who is his lady’s brother, who introduces himself in Khuzdul as the dwarven equivalent of like, Curious George (if that story were ancient) and he is utterly delighted!

#tolkien #the silmarillion #lotr #silmarillion #jirt #silm #elrond #jrr tolkien #gimli son of gloin #finrod #finrod felegund #galadriel #silm crack #i just think it would be neat

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luna-redamancy · 1 year

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Tehee... ever seen a Chinese follower? Well here I am.

May I humbly request a reader with the company (in general) who packed a pair of chopsticks and a spoon (for soup)? It’s even better if they’re at some formal dinner or something and reader insists on using their chopsticks (though they are somewhat peeved that they have to use a knife, since back home the servings would already be neatly divided and they feel a bit humiliated fumbling with one)

I hope you enjoy!

“Oh, no thank you,” You flashed a grin at the server, holding your hand over the table where they were attempting to put down a bundle of silverware. The server, albeit a bit perplexed at your refusal to accept the eating utensils, left with a polite nod- placing the silverware on the tray they were carrying.

“Are you going to eat with your hands?” Ori tilted his head to the side, confused, and quite honestly looking like a small child as you shook your head with an amused grin.

“No, I just prefer to eat with my own utensils,” You shrugged, reaching into your satchel to pull out a small rolled up piece of cloth. Carefully unraveling the knot you pulled out a pair of two carved pieces of wood.

“What’re those?” Ori questioned once more, catching the attention of the other company members.

“In my culture, we refer to these as chopsticks,” You explained simply, ensuring that your spoon was secured in the fabric before re-tying the knot, the pair of chopsticks resting on the side of your napkin.

“Chopsticks?” Kili asked, curious as he watched you put your cloth back in your satchel.

“Mhm,” You picked them up before using them to grab a piece of steamed carrot off the plate.

“You just-” Fili attempted to mimic your finger movements making you laugh, nearly choking on your steamed carrot.

“Yep, you just,-” You moved the chopsticks together and then apart, before grabbing a piece of steamed potato next. Sooner than you had liked, you finished the steamed vegetables and your greatest adversary - the chicken breast- stared back at you from your plate.

In your homeland, the chefs would have the chicken pre-sliced in neat chunks for perfect bites. Taking a sip of your water, you frowned. It appeared that in the land of the dwarves, such things did not exist.

Eyeing the small slicing knife next to your plate, you carefully plucked it up before holding the meat down with your chopsticks, attempting to slice through the meat. Your plate slid as the knife attempted to go through the meat, making heat crawl up your neck as the company’s attention focused on you.

Clearing your throat, you went back to attempting to cut the meat, biting the inside of your cheek.

Thorin kicked Dwalin’s leg from under the table, and shared a look with everyone- making them go back to their own conversations.

Gandalf wordlessly placed his hand over yours, taking the knife from your grasp to cut it himself for you.

Sighing through your nostril, you took another sip of water.

“There is no shame in not knowing what you’ve never been exposed to,” Gandalf spoke below his breath.

Looking down at your plate, you felt a small grin make itself home on your face as you saw the neat slices.

Please note, tags in bold are blogs that cannot be tagged either due to blog visibility settings set to not visible or because your username has changed. If it has changed, please comment, send in an ask, or private message me for it to be updated.

Forever Tag:

@lady-of-lies @all-things-fandomstuck @fizzyxcustard @izzydaelleth @aquaangel18 @raindancer2004 @love-colorfulglittercollection @ladylouoflothlorien @ten-tenya-iida @legolaslovely @bthtallmadge2 @abesottedlass @wilhelmyna @tigereyesf @aspookybunny @keijibum @moony-artnstuff @sirkekselord @guardianofrivendell @fluffymadamina @izbelross @fandomhoe101 @acahope311 @kitkatd7 @mooseetx @themerriweathermage @elvish-sky @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @laurfilijames @frequentlychangingfandoms @cameronsails @linasofia @starryeyedrogue @shethereadinghobbit @beenovel @onlystarshere @fckmini @spidergirla5 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @myselfandfantasy @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @broken-ghost @mbruben-stein @mrsdurin @hai-kbai

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #Chinese reader #reader-insert #the hobbit imagines #fluff #fanfic #the hobbit #fanfiction #jrr tolkien #xreader

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glorf1ndel · 10 months

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For @thelordofgifs. Surprise! We were talking about Finrod, so this fic is dedicated to you. :D

Not Alone (~800 words, gen)

Finrod talks about snakes; Sauron, with the eyes of a snake, listens.

On Ao3 or below!

Finrod is not alone for long.

He sits in the darkness of his cell in Tol-in-Gaurhoth, trying to ignore the wounds on his body, the way his stomach rolls with hunger, and his almost unbearable thirst. Of course, ignoring these things does not work, but it is better than thinking of Beren, who is imprisoned elsewhere in these dungeons. Bëor’s descendant, Barahir’s son, whom Finrod was supposed to help – instead, they are both languishing in cells, waiting in vain for their suffering to end –

Then the door to Finrod’s cell opens, and all thoughts flee from his mind. It is Sauron; who else? Yet Finrod is not expecting him, for he has already been tortured once this day. The lord of the fortress, which Finrod helped build with his own hands long ago, looks triumphant.

“I’ve discovered your identity,” he says, voice swelling with pride. “You are Finrod Felagund, ruler of Nargothrond.”

“Congratulations.”

“That is all you have to say?”

Sauron’s eyes narrow to slits as they regard him. They look very much like a snake’s. Finrod looks up into those ophidian eyes, his mind working.

“I’ve always liked snakes,” he says, giving Sauron a light smile. “They’re my favorite animal. When I was a child, I would play with the garter snakes in my backyard. Sometimes they would bite me, and I would try not to cry. But for the most part, they would slither around my arms, then return to the grass. I think they got used to me, but I never forgot that they could bite at any time. Such are wild creatures. In the end, their natures are surprising, even incomprehensible to the Elven mind.”

“What’s your point?”

“When I grew older, I made the snake the symbol of my house. I didn’t want to forget that there are beings in the world that we will never truly understand, and yet we coexist with them in a sensitive balance.”

Sauron smirks and crosses his arms.

“I see. You’re saying that you and I will never understand each other, but we should try to get along.” He scoffs, but it sounds more like a hiss. “If you believe that, then you are a fool, and the people of Bëor call you “Nóm” for nothing.”

Arching a brow, Finrod surveys Sauron’s face carefully. On the surface, the Lord of Tol-in-Gaurhoth wears the visage of an elf, but there are cracks in that appearance. The snakelike eyes, for one. The raised, slightly furred ears of a wolf. Sauron’s sharp, vampiric teeth. His red hair that glows in the darkness, as though lit by an inner fire. The soft smile does not leave Finrod’s lips as he says,

“That is not what I mean at all. Perhaps, at another time or in another place, we could have gotten along. You were once a Maia of Aulë, were you not? I am a friend to the Dwarves, who are great smiths. Together, we could have appreciated their love for the craft, even worked alongside them,” he murmurs, gaze drifting away from Sauron for just a moment.

Sauron snaps his fingers in front of Finrod’s face. The Elf looks back at him, very slowly.

“But I digress. What I am saying is this. I have met many an Ainu, enough to understand them. They may be unlike Elves, but they value similar things. Family and friendship. Love. Power. Knowledge about the mysteries of the universe. I am sure that some of these things are important to you.

“Yet something about you is different: your appearance. You can be an Elf, a vampire, a wolf, even a snake – but you do not take these forms because they are a natural part of you. You take them to deceive, to exact cruelty on others simply because you can. And that does not fit into the order of things.

“I understand you, Sauron,” Finrod says serenely, though the look in his eyes is ferocious. “You are evil. The world will not rest until it destroys you.”

Something in Sauron’s eyes shifts. Call it a trick of the dim light, but Finrod thinks he can see the dark, large-pupiled eyes of an ordinary Ainu, if only for a moment. Then the snakelike gaze is back, but the Lord of Tol-in-Gaurhoth is turning on his heel to leave Finrod’s cell.

“Then let the world try,” he snarls, and slams the door behind him.

Finrod sighs in relief. He thought he would die, this time. Thank Eru that Sauron has left, for arguing with him is exhausting. At last, Finrod is alone. Or so he thinks, for in the corner of his vision, he sees something slither out of the corner of his cell. Not alone, he thinks, and smiles.

****

Thank you for reading. <3 If you'd like, leave kudos and a comment on Ao3, or like and reblog this post!

#silm #silmarillion #finrod #finrod felagund #sauron #mairon #tolkien #tolkien fic #thelordofgifs

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masoena · 8 days

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World Bubble Kinks (Sastiel Short Fic)

Sam had Gabriel pinned against the wall of a fancy hotel room the archangel zapped them off to for some kinky sexy time with his favorite moose. Those were the shorter man's exact words.

Sam’s palm looked ridiculously large and dwarved the throat of Gabe’s chosen vessel while a one of Sam’s muscled thigh shoved between his legs gave him something to rut against.

“Mmm…so hard already little angel, now let's continue our exploration from last time. I wanna see if I can make you come just from that.” He pushed his leg in a little harder and higher against Gabe's cock which was obscenely outlined through the fabric of his beige dress pants, a dark spot already forming from pure excitement.

“Fuck Gabe, you’re already you leaking through your pants and I haven't even started yet, so needy and desperate for touch aren't you?”

Sam walked a fine line between baiting and dirty talk, knowing full well Gabe could turn the tables on him without breaking a sweat. The fact that the powerful celestial let him do this with him, made it all the more special.

“Samooose…. come on handsome giant, let's…..ugh…let's….” His words faded into desperate soft whines and pained moans which Sam absolutely lived for. He had one of Gabe’s nipples between his teeth, dragging and biting more roughly because he knew he could and didn't have to hold back not his strength, not his size, he couldn’t break Gabe if he tried. The other bud was held captive between Sam's talented fingertips which twisted and pulled the little nub causing positively delightful little gasps to tumble from the archangel’s throat, his head flung back. His golden brown eyes were half-lidded with unashamed lust and excitement as the leanly muscled compact body writhed against Sam’s tight grip on his throat and against the ridiculously large leg in between his own. Gabriel’s hips were just barely half way up the height of Sam’s thigh, their size difference among other things was a driving factor in this casual arrangement they had going.

To have the constantly bantering warrior of God before him, incapable of forming words because of the pleasure Sam, a lowly human of questionable repute, bestowed upon him was something the young Winchester could have never dreamt up even in the wildest of dreams.

Sam bounced his leg up and down to add a bit more pressure and friction while he switched his touches from rough and punishing to soft and gentle to quite literally keep his angel on his toes. He could tell by the fast erratic movements of Gabe’s hips that he was close. Amber eyes pleading when the hunter made eye contact before clashing their lips together hungrily. He clamped his fingers down tight around Gabe’s throat, taking away the breath the powerful being didn’t need but whose vessel seemed wired to react regardless.

Pinned like that Sam kept rolling his thigh and kept kissing the angel until his lips were red and swollen from it before nipping his lower lip sharply for a few seconds and finally devoured him with his tongue as he mapped every breathless corner of Gabriel’s mouth. All it took from there was a vicious twist of his nipple to catapult his angelic lover over the edge into full bodied climax. Sam felt him shudder, lips gasping for air he wasn’t getting, his head rolled back against the wall the tell-tale heat of his spend seeping through the fabric below as Sam rutted him through the delightful aftershocks until he finally loosened his grip on the shorter man’s throat, so he could drag in a few desperate breaths.

“Fuck Samshine… you’re… vicious.. ahahah… too…. t t too sensitive.” Gabe exclaimed as Sam kept rolling his firm thigh against his quickly too sensitive cock.

Sam took mercy on him and pulled his leg back and released his grip from the man’s throat entirely before he leaned down to kiss the archangel more gently, reverent and loving this time. He cupped Gabriel’s cheek in one large palm, thumb rubbing across the tender lips while tracing the fingertips of his other hand down the length of his arm before lacing their fingers together.

“Don’t you ever again think of yourself as lowly and of questionable repute or so help me Chuck I’ll spank those thoughts right out of your pert peach of an ass the next time we meet.” Gabe accompanied his statement with piercing amber eyes that told Sam that he meant every single word.

Find me on AO3 for more stories like these and long fics.

#spn fanfic #spnkinkevents #kinkysamweek2024 #sabriel #supernatural

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silvanshadow · 1 year

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Masterpost: The Sellsword and the Mage

Ongoing @galladrabbles serial.

Art by: @suzy-queued

----------

Even at the base of the watchtower, the heat from the signal fire above was intense.

Unnaturally so, magically enhanced.

And Ian would stand there until Mickey came.

“Ian!” Lip grasped him by the shoulders, gave him a shake, “They’re gone! You heard the scouts! We need to fall back!”

“No.”

“Ian—”

“No, Lip. He’s alive.”

“He wouldn’t want this, Ian. Mickey would want you safe.”

“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with your brother,” gasped a voice. Mickey collapsed at Ian’s feet.

Ian dropped to his knees and pressed their foreheads together, “I knew you wouldn’t leave me like this.”

---

Their lips met once, twice in relief before Mickey whispered, “Sorry I didn’t make it back in time.” His words broke off with a hiss as Ian’s hands skimmed his torso.

“You’re hurt!” Ian gasped.

“A little parting gift from captain of Three River’s guard.”

“What?” Lip interrupted, “Mickey, the fuck? Three Rivers is our ally! The signal fire is for her army!”

Mickey barked a laugh, “Yeah, don’t count on that. Queen Svetlana has thrown in with Prince Gus and my dad’s bandit mob. They even have that cult of blood mages now, too.”

“Shit.” Lip eloquently summed up.

---

“We need to warn Fiona,” Lip started to pace.

“How?” Ian huffed. “It’s not like we can slink through the shadows down the mountain trail. It’s too open. And we’re not going anywhere until I heal Mickey’s wound!”

Mickey reached for Ian’s face, “Ian, hey Buttercup, look at me. I made it this far, a little longer won’t kill me.”

“But—”

“We gotta be smart here, yeah?”

Ian pressed his lips tight and nodded.

“Good. Done being moody now?” Mickey teased. “Cause I think I know a way.”

“How?” Lip crossed his arms.

“We take the old dwarf road.”

---

“You know about the old dwarf roads?” Lip scoffed.

Mickey motioned for Ian to help him stand. “You already forget I’m not from here? That I had a whole life before Ian cast his spell on me.”

“Stop saying that!” Ian hissed. “People will think I bewitched you.”

“Didn’t you, though?” Mickey pecked him on the chin. “Anyway,” he continued, “a few years back I was hired by a dwarf as his personal bodyguard. He told me all about the old roads.”

“Then you know the elves sealed them when they drove the dwarves north.”

“Ian can break those seals.”

---

Ian could tell the descent was getting to Mickey. His breathing labored by the time they reached the ornate arch marking the dwarf road. A dim blue-green shimmer the only sign of the elf magic that sealed the door.

He began working free the straps of Mickey’s gambeson.

“Ian--,” Lip snapped.

“No! This isn’t a game! No one has to lose to watch me win. I’m the one with magic and you--,” to Lip, “aren’t going to guilt me. And you--,” to Mickey, “aren’t playing the martyr so Lip will think you worthy of me. We’re doing this my way!”

---

Multicolor starbursts flash behind Ian’s eyes. Rosettes of every hue. It’s something he rarely experiences when calling upon his magic. And only ever happens when his spell is directed at Mickey.

Even when he was Mickey’s target. Before realization, and love, and a changing for the better, Ian would see those bursts with each spell. It was the first sign that there was something special between them.

Now he presses his lips to Mickey’s brow as healing magic flows through his hands. The rosettes pulse bright then fade as the wound heals.

“All better now,” Ian whispers against precious skin.

---

It was Mickey’s turn to look after Ian.

Even more than summoning fire and ice, Ian cherished his ability to heal others. It took so much energy, though. So, Mickey encouraged Ian to sit down and take sips from the waterskin.

Mickey frowned at the shimmer of old elvish magic blocking their path.

Because Lip was also right.

Mickey had glimpsed the horde bearing down on the Southern Kingdom. He could very well be on the losing side this time. But as he watches Ian take bites of a sad, mealy apple he knows it certainly isn’t the wrong one.

---

Elvish spells don’t like to be broken.

Ian can feel this one twisting and turning, trying to evade his own magic. But Ian has three things going for him here: First, he’s broken a spell like this before. It was years ago to save the life of a man that was first his enemy, then reluctant ally, and now the person he loves most in this world. Second, his love for his family in the Southern Kingdom. And third, his desire to prove to Lip that he is no longer the younger brother with a power he sometimes cannot control.

---

“Thank fuck!” Lip exclaimed as the spell broke with a flash and a gust of stale-smelling air.

“Or you could thank your brother.” Mickey fired back.

Ian gave Mickey’s hand a soft squeeze and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said as he conjured two globes of light and sent one to sit at Lip’s shoulder.

“So mean and scary!” Ian grinned as he and Mickey fell in step behind Lip. “My tough sellsword boyfriend who rushes to defend me.”

“You bet I’m mean and scary!”

“So mean and scary.” Ian agreed as he pressed a kiss to Mickey’s cheek.

---

“What the hell is Three Rivers thinking?” Lip scuffed his boots in the centuries-old dirt and debris. “Breaking a fifty-year treaty?”

Mickey shrugged, “That treaty was with the old king, not Queenie Svet. She’s got her own plans.”

“Do you think the rumors true? That she murdered the old king and the eldest prince?” Ian asked.

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” Mickey shrugged again. “Either way, she’s in charge until that kid of hers is old enough. And he’s, what, two? Long time to gather power.”

“Well,” Lip, voice grim, said, “she’s about to learn what goes around comes around.”

---

Lip claims to know their path. But, to Ian, the march feels endless. The road is wide, and the ceilings high, but the darkness is all consuming. It steals his breath and quickens his heart.

So, Ian begins to hum. A distraction. Tuneless until a favorite lyric comes to mind:

“Black is the color,

Of my true love’s hair.

His lips are like,

Some roses fair.

He has the sweetest smile,

And the gentlest hands.

And I love the ground whereon he stands.”

“The song is sad,” Ian whispers to Mickey, “but I love that verse. Reminds me of you.”

---

A faint blue-green sheen lit the road ahead marking the end of their journey and a final elvish spell for Ian to break.

“Hey,” Mickey bumped his shoulder against Ian’s, “you remember that old farmhouse we holed up in that time? The one with that garden you about creamed yourself over?”

“Like I’d ever forget it,” Ian grinned. “A lot of amazing firsts happened there.”

“So whaddyasay after we’re finished kicking ass here, we find a place like that again? Get away from all this?”

“And just be Ian and Mickey?”

Mickey smiled, “Yeah, just us. No bullshit.”

“Sounds perfect.”

---

The trio exited the dwarven road to the sound of rolling thunder and fat, cold raindrops.

“Fucking perfect,” Mickey groused as he ducked back inside the arched door and shook out his wet hair.

“No,” Lip corrected, “no, this is good.”

“Getting fucking soaked is good?”

Lip nodded, “The rain. The mud. It’ll slow the invaders down.”

“Slow us down, too,” Ian added.

“I know,” Lip said. “It’s why I think we should split up.”

“No!” Ian leapt to his brother, pushing Lip’s shoulder until they were face-to-face. “No fucking way!”

“It’s the best plan, Ian, and you know it.”

---

The rain must’ve drowned all sounds of their pursuer as their only warning was a half-feral yell as a body slammed into Ian’s back, dagger poised to rip open his throat. Ian conjured a static spell. It paused the attack long enough for Lip to tear the man from Ian’s back.

Then Mickey’s twin daggers were in motion. In a blur, it was over. A body slumped in the dark archway and Mickey covered in ichor.

“All that blood looks good on you,” Ian said, once he was sure none of it was Mickey’s. “It really brings out your eyes.”

---

“Three fucking Rivers!” Mickey gave the corpse at his feet a not-so-gentle nudge with his boot.

“We knew that the dwarf road was a gamble,” Lip conceded.

“One we fucking lost!” Mickey kicked the corpse again.

“Ian, can you seal that entrance again?”

Ian shook his head at his brother, “I can break certain elvish spells, but I can’t perform them. Best I can do is a barrier spell that any mage could break.”

“Do it.”

“So, no more talk of splitting up?” Ian asked as he spun his magic.

“No, we’re sticking together. Speed over stealth from here on.”

---

At an outlying farm they met a grizzled former soldier who was determined to defend his land. They traded the use of two of his horses for Ian casting protection spells around his farm.

Now Ian held tight to Mickey’s waist as they teased as much speed as possible from the animals through the muddy ground.

Their ride continued like this until they reached a barrier of felled trees. Ian conjured a ball of blue-tinted fire—the agreed upon friend-or-foe signal—and sent it into the sky. A rider appeared from the dark to escort them to the army encampment.

---

“Send your fastest messenger,” Lip demanded as they reached the general’s tent, “Three Rivers has betrayed us.”

Ian expected a flurry of activity; a flood of questions to follow. Instead, the three were escorted inside the general’s tent. They accepted the offer of chairs around the map table. Declined the bread and cheese. And Mickey accepted the proffered small beer on behalf of all.

The general leaned over the map table. “Tell me, brothers Gallagher, why those brave folks you just passed through should fight and die because your common whore sister couldn’t decide which prince she wanted to marry?”

---

Colder than any ice Ian’s magic could harness was Lip’s voice when he replied: “The Gallaghers may be of common blood but call my sister a whore again and I’ll remove the tongue from your treasonous mouth.”

“Treason!” the general barked. “You dare speak of treason when your own brother bends over for the son of our enemy?”

Incredulous, Mickey motions at Ian’s crotch, “That dick is a piece of art! I’m the one taking it!”

“Mickey has suffered more at the hands of Terry Milkovich than anyone!”

The general scoffed. “Indeed, mage? I believe his many victims would disagree.”

----

It was as the general sat glaring that Ian felt it: a discordant note where he drew his magic from. He stood up and was just opening his mouth to say “something’s wrong” when Mickey threw himself at him—arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist—sending them crashing to the ground. At that same moment, the general dove across the map table with dagger extended.

Lip tackled the general from the side, knocking the dagger from his grip.

“Blood magic!” Ian gasped as he extricated himself from Mickey’s life-saving bear hug. “He’s being controlled by blood magic!”

----

“Guards!” the general bellowed, flailing on the ground to escape Lip. Lip increased the pressure of his hold at the same time the two soldiers guarding the general’s tent along with the general’s aide rushed inside with swords extended. Only Ian and Lip’s status as the queen’s brothers stopped them from attacking.

“Explain this!” the aide de camp demanded.

“Fucking asshole attacked Ian!” Mickey snarled, “Lucky he’s still breathin’.”

“Not helpful,” Lip strained as the general bucked against his hold.

Ian raised his hands placatingly, “He’s under the effects of blood magic. The mage responsible must be inside the camp.”

---

The aide-de-camp blanched. “But… the camp contains thousands! How are we to find one blood mage among them?”

“Too late,” the general’s chortle filled the tent. “She has laid her curse upon the Gallaghers. No escape now.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Mickey barked. He turned then to Ian. “Don’t worry, red. I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mick.” Ian spared a soft look for his love before his face turned steely, “But don’t listen to any of this bullshit. He’s nothing but a marionette dancing on frayed strings.”

“OK, but who is ‘she’?” Lip questioned.

---

“It doesn’t matter who ‘she’ is!” Ian knelt in front of the general, “They just want us wringing our hands over bullshit curses and mystery women instead of focusing on the real enemy right in front of us.”

Ian snapped his fingers in front of their captive, “I know you are watching through his eyes so here’s a message you can take back to your master: your plan here has failed. There will be no surrender, no truce. Just us standing by our sister’s side whenever you deign to show yourself.”

Ian then chanted the spell to free the general.

---

“He dead?” Mickey asks, nudging the general with the toe of his boot.

“No, Mickey, stop it!” Ian hisses, but chaos is already spreading as the general remains unmoving. Ian’s pleas of “Just wait! Give him a moment.” go unheeded.

Mickey moves himself to stand between Ian and the closest of the drawn swords.

Finally, the general stirs. Tensions ease a bit as he is helped back to his chair behind the map table. Fortifying wine is called for. After one cup, then another is emptied, the general motions for Lip, Ian, and Mickey to join him around the table.

----

“I believe,” the general began, “that we are best served when we speak the truth. So, I hope you will believe me when I say I’ve had no control of myself since being bespelled.”

Ian nodded. “We know, general.”

“Thank you. I hope you will be as forgiving when I tell you what occurred shortly before you arrived.”

“What?” Lip asked.

“A delegation from Three Rivers—four horsemen surrounding a cloaked rider—arrived at our barricades. I ordered them to be escorted directly to the castle without delay. I fear I have let the enemy walk through the front door.”

----

A pair of fresh horses were brought to them. The swift ones reserved for messengers. They raced towards the castle as though trying to outrun the end of the world.

As they rode, Ian pressed his face tight against the back of Mickey’s neck whispering protection spell after protection spell into his skin.

“Hey,” Mickey nudged, “save your magic. We don’t know what we’re riding into.”

Ian shook his head. “Can’t lose you.”

“Not going anywhere, Red. Promised you a farmhouse, didn’t I?”

Ian squeezed his arms tighter around Mickey’s waist. “I want that farmhouse, Mick. I want it bad.”

----

Wallaceborough.

The Southern Kingdom’s seat of power.

Home.

The sight of those fortified walls and Wallace Castle on the hill above usually filled Ian’s heart with calm and joy.

Now dread filled his belly like a stone.

“Keep alert,” Ian warned as they waited for the gates to open for them.

“You see something?” Lip asked.

Ian shook his head. “Just a very bad feeling. Discord in the magic.”

“Hey,” Mickey nudged him softly in the ribs, “We’ve got this. Got each other’s backs.”

Lip spurred his horse forward as the gate finished opening. “Persevere, my brother. We’re nearly there.”

----

Ian had imagined many scenarios of what they’d find once they reached Fiona and Wallace Castle. Most the stuff of his bloodiest nightmare. But he never could have conjured the actual scene in front of them: one of revelry, flowing wine, and an over-laden banquet table.

The juxtaposition with the barricades, soldiers, and battle mages outside was surreal. Dream-like.

“What the fuck?” Mickey said what all three were thinking.

“Ian?” Lip questioned.

But, while Ian could still feel the discord in the magic around him, he sensed no enchantment in the room.

Ian shook his head, “This isn’t a spell.”

----

Ian watched Southern Kingdom courtiers dancing and flirting with Three Rivers knights with growing disgust. His gaze landed on Yvon, the captain of Three Rivers guard—the man who had tried to kill Mickey and barely controlled the urge to call down lightning bolts. There would be time later.

Queen Fiona, motioning for her wine goblet to be refilled, finally noticed them standing just inside the hall. “You’re here!” She rushed to hug Lip and Ian. “When we heard you weren’t at your assigned watchtower, we were worried!”

“You look worried,” Lip frowned. “Nice party you're throwing for the enemy.”

----

“Enemies where?” Fiona scoffed.

Ian took Fiona by the shoulders, “Fi, it was Three Rivers with some blood mages, and a few of the Milkovich Marauders who ambushed your envoy. Mickey barely made it back to me alive.”

Fiona seemed to finally notice Mickey standing next to Ian. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispered.

“Which part?” Mickey growled. “The ambush, or me surviving it?”

Fiona brought her hands to Ian’s cheeks, “I need you to trust me.”

“Real hard to take a leap of faith when the man who tried to kill Mickey is over there drinking your wine.”

----

“My captain was only following orders,” a thickly accented voice said. Ian looked up from Fiona to see Svetlana, Queen of Three Rivers approaching. “And it was not personal; just the price set by Terry Milkovich for the use of his Marauders.”

“That motherfucker!” Mickey spat.

Ian glared at both queens. “Well, let me be perfectly clear, Your Majesties: if anyone tries to collect on that price again, I will burn both of your kingdoms to ash.”

“Ian!” Queen Fiona gasped.

Svetlana merely shrugged. “Milkovich is greedy man. He will be given another chest of gold and say no more.”

----

“How could you do this?” Ian pleads to his sister. “How could you send Mickey away to be killed?” His eyes blurred with unshed tears.

Fiona grasped tightly to one of his wrists, “Ian, it was not like that. You must understand I’m queen now; I have to be willing to make sacrifices.”

Ian pulled his arm away. “But it wasn’t your sacrifice. It was Mickey’s. It was mine. When did we become your sworn enemies? All we’ve done all night is try to warn you of Three Rivers’ betrayal. You can’t expect me to ever forgive you for this.”

----

With his strong hand on Ian’s shoulder, Mickey gently guided him out of the Great Hall—and away from his sister. Once they reached the corridor beyond, Mickey turned Ian to face him, reaching his hands up to frame his lover’s face.

“Hey, take a breath,” Mickey soothed. “Don’t go breakin’ up with your family over me.”

“I just don’t understand,” Ian placed his own hands over Mickey’s. “Fiona was more our mother than our actual mother. Every comfort of my childhood came from her. Until my magic manifested, that is. She never looked at me the same after that.”

----

“Hey,” Mickey gave Ian’s head the gentlest of shakes, “don’t go getting caught up in Fiona’s past bullshit. Not when we still haven’t figured out her current bullshit. Yeah?”

Ian huffed a laugh. “It’s just, she never would’ve done that to Lip, Debbie, or Carl.”

“Well, fuck her then. I’m still here.” A smirk crossed Mickey’s face. “How could I not be with all those spells you wrap around me. Like wearin’ an invisible layer of plate maille.”

“That all? I was going for enchanted invisible plate maille.”

Mickey raised up on his toes to kiss his silly, beautiful love.

----

Without warning a strong hand yanked Mickey out of Ian’s embrace. Seconds later, one of Ian’s protective spells triggered, sending Mickey backwards and his attacker flying across the corridor in a shower of sparks. Momentary shock now passed, Ian set in motion—drawing his magic close and releasing a spell. Crackling ice gathered around the strange man’s feet and began solidifying around his legs, leaving him immobile.

“Wait, Ian! Stop!” Mickey called out. “It’s fine. He’s fine!”

Ian halted his spell. “What? You—you know this guy?”

“Unfortunately,” Mickey sighed. “Ian, this is Colin. He’s one of my dickhead brothers.”

----

“Lookin’ real good for a corpse, Mick,” Colin drawled.

Mickey shrugged. “What can I say? I’m hard to kill.”

“That’s nothing new,” Colin laughed. “Can I get some help here?” He motioned to his still iced-over lower body.

Ian stepped in front of Mickey. “That depends: are you here to finish the job?”

“Killin’ Mick is dad’s thing; I just like bustin’ his balls.”

“Okay then.” Ian drew on his magic.

“You never said your new butt-buddy was a fuckin’ mage,” Colin said as he watched the ice melt.

“You never fuckin’ asked. The fuck you doing here anyway, Colin?”

----

“I’m Terry’s messenger,” Colin grinned. “Dad doesn’t much trust the bog witch, so he likes having one of his own in the room when messages are delivered.”

Ian pulled a face, “Bog witch?”

“Queenie Svet,” Mickey supplied as he eyed his brother. “So, how much of what you’ve seen are you planning on reporting back to Terry?”

Colin took a step closer and gave Mickey a mocking punch to the shoulder. “Your secret stays with me, little brother. I have no interest in getting on dad’s bad side on this. Not when all the rest of the news is good.”

----

“Hey,” Lip knocks against the wall to get their attention, “we’re heading up to the solar. Something about a messenger arriving.”

“Duty calls,” Colin grins at his brother before loping off with Lip on his heels.

Mickey and Ian fall in step behind them. “So,” Mickey rubs a hand across his mouth, “how far are you out the door now you’ve met my brother?”

“Mickey, your brother being kind of a dumbass doesn’t change anything. I love you. I’m better with you.”

Mickey rolls his lips into his mouth. “You sure?”

Ian smiles. “Positive. Now let’s go get some answers.”

----

“A coup?” Ian yelled. “You were willing to sacrifice Mickey’s life to put Gus on his father’s throne?”

Colin had just finished giving his report of the fall of the Northern Kingdom to the Milkovich Marauders and a group of blood mages. That King Pfender was dead and his wife sheltering in the closest abbey.

“Gus, pfft,” Queen Svetlana snorted. “Quiet your brother, Queen Fiona. He whines like a mewling child.”

“Does Gus know he is now king?” Fiona asked.

Colin shook his shaggy head, “All messengers were killed.”

“Long live the king.” Svetlana raised her goblet in mocking salute.

----

“I swear,” Ian growled, “if one of you doesn’t start speaking plainly, I will summon rain clouds to drench you in freezing cold showers ‘til the end of your days!”

Queen Svetlana bristled. “Who are you, peasant mage, to give orders to royalty? Show the proper respect!”

“Respect this!” Mickey growled, presenting both his middle fingers. “Now, get talking or Ian starts casting.”

“I can counter any spell this child knows,” Svetlana scoffed.

Ian pulled on his magic, causing the air in the room to grow damp and humid. “Wanna try me?”

“Fine. It began when King James married Fiona.”

----

Ian, Mickey, and Lip listened rapt as Svetlana told, with Ian only having to fill the solar with the scent of rain twice when her pauses became overly long, of King Gus arriving at her castle demanding a private audience where he made insinuations on how she became queen of Three Rivers and the legitimacy of her son’s claim to that throne.

“I care not what others say of me, but I will not let anyone question my Yevgeny as the rightful heir.” Svetlana drained her goblet. “Gus demanded my help overthrowing King James or he’d formally question Yevgeny’s claim.”

----

“Queen Svetlana came up with a plan and, with great risk as Gus has people watching her movements, she came to us,” Fiona picked up the tale. She was raking her fingers through her curls, a sign of the frazzled state of her nerves.

“Our kingdoms would work together to remove the fools from the Northern Kingdom’s throne,” Svetlana finished.

“And what? Divide the land between you?” Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “You really think the Northern Kingdom will just let that happen?”

Svetlana scoffed into her refilled wine goblet. “No, we put someone on that throne with actual brain in head.”

----

“And who would that be?” Lip asks.

“Yeah,” Mickey adds, “what kind of mush-brain is risking their skin for you?”

It’s King James that answers, “Tami Tamietti of the Springlands. Part of a noble family with ties to the Pfenders and a legitimate claim to the throne.”

“The family was hit hard by the Sweating Sickness a few years ago. Only Tami and her brother-in-law survived; this is a welcome change of fortune.”

Ian looks from Svetlana to his sister, “And what do you get?”

“Three united kingdoms,” Svetlana grins.

“United how? Through regicide?” Lip sneers.

“Through marriages, of course.”

----

“Marriages,” Lip repeated. His eyes cut sharply to his brother.

The tension in the room ratcheted, rose, until it became a near physical thing as Ian groped for Mickey’s hand. Suspicions now raised over Mickey’s brush with death. “Explain.”

Fiona drew herself up into her best regal posture. “We must solidify our alliance with the new queen of the Northern Kingdom first. Lip, as my eldest brother, you have been betrothed to Tami Tamietti.”

“What the fuck, Fiona?” Lip breathed.

“And your alliance with Three Rivers?” Ian spat. The muscle in his jaw ticking as he glared at his sister.

----

Svetlana scowled. “Your brother appears to believe he is privy to the councils of royalty.”

“What?” Mickey barked.

“She means it’s none of our business,” Lip answered.

“She’s correct.” Fiona sighed, “Ian, it’s not your concern.”

“Oh really?” Ian could feel a storm of temper and magic not even Mickey’s hand in his could soothe. He needed a focal point, and he found one in the form of a half-worked tapestry. Swirls of yellow, purple, and blue. His sister’s work, he guessed, though he never saw her sew anything but clothing before.

He recognized little of his sister these days.

----

But even if Ian doesn’t know much about this version of his sister, he knows—right down to the marrow of his bones—that he isn’t free from these machinations.

And he knows exactly how she’ll spring it upon him: she’ll bide her time. Then she’ll sidle up to him, give him her famous sad eyes while explaining how important it is that Ian does this thing for her. No, not just for her; for their entire family. The kingdom, even.

But that won’t work on him this time. Especially now he has Mickey.

“So, what does concern me, Fiona?”

----

“Ian,” Fiona sighs. “It’s been a long night—one that isn’t over yet for the three of us.” She motions between herself, James, and Svetlana. “Let me have a room made up for you. You and Mickey can cuddle by the fire and then sleep in one of our softest beds. All the rest of it can wait.”

“No.” Ian’s voice is like steel. “I’ll hold Mickey in our own room, in our own bed after you have told us exactly what your plans are for me.”

“Dammit, Ian! Why must you always be like a dog with a bone?”

----

“Fine!” Fiona growled. “The Tower mages are angry that Three Rivers has offered the blood mages land and sanctuary. Ian, we must take advantage of your good relationship with the Tower.

Ian narrowed his eyes. “That’s it? For me to write a letter to the Tower?”

“Not a letter, Ian. You. We need you to build a bridge between Three Rivers and the Tower. As the new magic liaison in Svetlana’s court.”

Whatever else Fiona said blurred together in Ian’s mind as all he could think was Terry Milkovich operates out of Three Rivers. Mickey would never be safe there!

----

“No,” Ian interrupts Fiona, voice firm and unyielding.

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you shocked, Fiona? You’re asking me to go someplace Terry Milkovich will be breathing down Mickey’s neck from sun-up to sundown. Did you think I’d thank you for that? So, no Fiona, I will not be going to Three Rivers as a liaison or anything else.”

“First of all,” Fiona slams her goblet down on the nearest surface, “I didn’t ask you anything. You are a member of the royal family and a subject of this kingdom; you will do exactly as I say, when I say it!”

#galladrabbles #masterpost #The Sellsword and the Mage #Gallavich fanfic #Gallavich

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artsykidwolf-2000 · 1 year

Text

Hello everyone! It's me back at it again with another Flash & Sindri post!

If I keep doing these I might have to give y'all a few art pieces maybe hm? I'll think on it!

But for some context of this fanfic idea! This idea stems from a cultural tradition/act of kindness from the Draken culture (and maybe Dwarven equivalent idk) of others would groom their scales as a sign of affection or friendliest towards each other (like birdos picking pin feathers!) And if you're lucky enough to be an outsider, you might get a purr out of em. (This also works for dragons! They love scratches!!!)

Anyways! Onwards to a germaphobe dwarf and sassy dragon lady bonding time!

Rose Petal Scales

{An OC × Sindri Fanfic}

{Flash × Sindri}

Warnings: {Possible} Germaphobia/OCD, insecurities, Anxiety, Depression, Old Scars, "censored cursing", etc.

Rating: Fluffy with a ginger snap cookie {some topics may be suggestive or sensitive due to nature/wording, you have been warned, mostly mild} {Just trying to embrace the character roles!}

★★★★★★★★★

{Flash's pov}

It has been about a year or so since I've been living with the Huldra brothers. Living has been getting easier due to not being starved or hunted 24/7. Getting new clothes and a room to live in with these crafty dwarves was just the tip of the iceberg. They've done a lot for me...they reminded me of my family and friends I've grown to long for. Since then my hair has grown from a long fuzz to a shaggy cut almost to my shoulders. My hair grows pretty fast...so do my scales and I've been shedding and itching a lot more recently.

I made my way downstairs where I saw some of my fallen scales on the work bench. Brok and Sindri were bickering over the properties or the mass quantities of scales that just pop up out of no where. I trudged to the kitchen area and grabbed an apple. I took a bite which seemed to pull their attention out their asses.

"You...you loungin' piece of s**t!" Brok growled at me, "Your scales have been annoying as of recently and they're every f**king where!"

"Not my fault my scales grow fast, blame my mother, now sod off...I have a hangover..." I spat back at him.

"Why I 'otta-" Brok went to throw some scap-slag at me before Sindri frantically tried to calm him down.

"Both of you! Calm down! No need for violence!" He squeaked out.

"What?! You taking 'er side huh? You's been complainin about her scales being everywhere and not once'ya think to talk about fixin' the problem!"

"I-I'm getting to that Brok!" Sindri sighed then cleared his throat. He turned to look at me and all he saw was a scowled frown upon my face.

"Can't handle me huh? It's hard when you don't have anyone else to help clean you because of scars! I try my best and I give them to you guys to make armor and weapons! You guys are taking me for granted!" I hissed as I jumped to the second floor without a second thought.

"Flash Wait-!" Sindri called out to me but I already shut the door to the bathing room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I laid in the warm waters of the tub. Soaking my aching scales to help maybe loosen them. I saw a few float up here and there but it wasn't enough. I used brushes on sticks, a pumice stone, everything nearby to get them off. Every scale that floated in front of me relayed memories from my past.

Some happy....some not...

One stuck out the most.

It was of a very dear friend of mine. Her name was Scarlett. She was a Draken like me. One with beautiful red scales and a cute shorter tail. She would pick the more stubborn scales from my back and quipped they looked like rose petals.

I missed her

She was one of the few I ever loved dearly. The only one so far that told me my scaled smelled nice while the other Drakens or races said they smelt of sulfur, burnt wood, or some other nasty thing.

She was my first....and my last...

At least that's what I thought....

Almost every night I wake up to the nightmare that happened. Her voice still calling for me to run. Her screams. Her last breath.

I wiped tears from my eyes as I softly cried. The memories still stinging my mind. I sat up and drained the water from my hair. It dried pretty quickly once I took a fluffy towel to it. I took a sniff of the towel and it smelt like Sindri. The fresh linen cloth smell with a hint of ashen soot from the forge.

I could feel my ears wiggle and turn red.

Why his dumb face....?

I quickly shot up from the bath and cleaned it out of scales. I put them in a bucket next to the door. I got dressed in some clean pants and a undershirt only combo. When I opened the door I knew they had went off to their rooms. I marched over to Sindri's room and knocked gently.

After a few minutes he opened the door. He wiped sleep from his eyes.

"Flash? Why are you up late?" He yawned.

"I...need your help"

That perked him up a bit, "With what? Is everything alright?"

"I want you to...help with my scales..." I said with a small blush on my face.

"O-Oh but...those can be very messy and-"

"I already cleaned myself, just need extra hands"

Sindri nodded hesitantly and let me into his room. I laid my towel down and laid on it. My back was exposed to him with my top being flowy and short. He could see all the knotted back scales as he sat behind me. He went for his gloves but I spoke up.

"it's easier without them...don't worry about the beasties..."

I could hear the lump in his throat sink into his stomach as he cautiously yet gently placed his calloused hands on my back. His hands steadily yet shakenly moved to all the troublesome scales. One by one they came out until I looked and felt fantastic.

"H-How does it feel? Your scales are quite something. Smell nice too" He complimented as he quickly wiped his hands on the towel. I whipped my head to look at him.

"What do they smell like to you?" I asked creeping a tiny bit closer to him.

"u-uh well...they do have the scent of flowers and what I could pinpoint... alcohol? It smelt sweeter than mead or ale" he answered, "Brok thinks they just smell like rotting flesh and bird droppings to him...or a burnt stew?"

My eyes started to water. A few tears hit the ground until he noticed. He started panicking a bit.

"Y-You ok?! Did what Brok say hurt you?! I-I..." He stammered until I held his bare hands.

"You can smell my scent....does that mean...." I looked into his eyes but my bangs flopped in front of me. I pouted until his hand pulled my hair away from my face and behind my ear.

"I may have done my own research and...yes...thought quite revolting it sounded but I got the message. I've fallen ever since the days when Atreus was younger and when you moved in with us. All those years... I've been a coward..." He bowed his head.

I slowly lifted up his head when I cupped his cheeks. He seemed stiff but slowly melted a bit at my warm touch.

"You're my coward... one who has been by my side along with his stubborn grosser brother...and I wouldn't have it any other way." I placed my forehead against his and purred, "just don't tell Brok I said that"

He chuckled and slowly wrapped his hands around my now velvety soft back. We stare into each other's eyes then all I could feel was his lips on mine for a short while before quickly pulling away and wiping everything on a spare towel I brought. I gently wrapped my clean tail around him gently. Not wanting to let him go.

He may be weird but....

He's my Dwarf

#sindri x reader #sindri x oc #sindri god of war #sindri #black dragons #dragons #dragon scales #roses #god of war #god of war ragnarok #sindri gow

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finmoryo · 1 year

Text

Another Sad Celebrimbor AU

Celebrimbor is (trans) Curufin and Finrod's child but Finrod and Curufin weren’t speaking to each other after Fëanor was sent to Formenos but sometimes Tyelpe visited Finrod

Celebrimbor, being the age equivalent of 12 in human years, is left with Finwë the day the trees are destroyed

Finwë is killed and Melkor takes both Tyelpe and the silmarils (no one knows why)

Finrod gets a vision of this immediately beforehand and starts freaking out

Fëanorians ride to Formenos and confirm this

Finrod and Finarfin convince Olwë to lend the Teleri’s ships, for his great-grandson’s sake

Olwë loves little Tyelpe, so he agrees and some of the Teleri come to Middle-earth with them

Finarfin comes, and Findis is left in charge of the remaining Noldor, which isn't very many.

Fëanor doesn’t burn the ships this time. Curufin is too worried about his son’s safety and is convinced they need everyone they can get.

Sauron and Melkor decide not to feed him to the wolves and end up raising him to be their mini murder weapon

Tyelpe is terrified at first, but learns Orkish and is forced to help out in the forge

The years pass as the elves fight Morgoth and devise a plan to rescue Tyelpe

Sauron tries out some mind wiping techniques and manages to make Tyelpe forget his past

Despite their best efforts to defeat Morgoth's host, Fëanor dies and Maedhros is captured by the enemy

Sauron brings Tyelpe along to the torture and Maedhros, who is gagged, just cries

Tyelpe doesn’t like the cruelty and just makes weapons and new inventions for Melkor, supervised by Sauron. He’s trusted by the commanders and called “lord”.

Tyelpe feels bad for the elven prisoners, especially the one with red hair that keeps crying when he sees him and whispering something that sounds familiar to him, though he’s not sure why

Tyelpe gets a sense that something is going to happen the day Maedhros is rescued, so he keeps Melkor and Sauron distracted

Maedhros tells the others that Tyelpe has definitely been brainwashed and Curufin just gets more furious.

Beren and Lúthien steal a silmaril (without getting Finrod killed) and the Noldor are quite angry about it. Politics ensue and Thingol dies from the dwarves, which Caranthir definitely didn't help with.

Maedhros and Fingolfin manage to get Dior to give up the silmaril in exchange for their help in defending and rebuilding Doriath's borders, as well as trade agreements.

Earendil and Elwing are born. Gondolin is destroyed when Morgoth's servants use one of Celebrimbor's inventions to find it, and the survivors flee to Barad Eithel, where Fingolfin is ruling. As in canon, Earendil goes to petition the Valar for aid.

Valar come to help. Partially because Fëanor's yelling in the halls about getting his grandson back is annoying Námo.

When Finarfin is facing down too many orcs once they've broken into the fortress and would have surely died, many orcs are killed with a few swings of a sword from behind him. It’s Tyelpe. He doesn’t remember his family but knows he doesn’t want to be stuck with Morgoth and Sauron anymore.

They win the war, and Celebrimbor stands aside as Morgoth is chained. Sauron attempts to drag him away when he escapes, but Celebrimbor bites him and says he’ll never go. Sauron leaves.

Tyelpe is brought before the Valar and kneels in front of Nienna.

"You have suffered much, child." She places her hand on his head.

"I only ask for forgiveness, as I have caused much suffering as well. And perhaps that I wish for a boon that will restore what was taken from me."

Nienna probes his mind and manages to find that the memories were only hidden and brings some to the front of it. They both start to cry as scenes play out.

Tyelpe scans the crowd and throws himself at Maedhros's feet, exclaiming how sorry he is. Maedhros hugs him and says that's he's not angry with him.

Maedhros yells for Curufin, and Tyelpe tenses up.

Curufin comes over and breaks down sobbing, hugging his son when Maedhros lets go of him. Finrod joins in when he sees.

The elves stay in Beleriand, and Tyelpe gets to experience Nargothrond and make up all the lost time.

The oath is fulfilled, and no hands are burnt. Celebrimbor is still scared of touching the silmarils, since he worked for Morgoth. His family doesn't press him on this, though they make sure he understands that it wasn't his fault.

#silmarillion #tolkien #celebrimbor #au #feanorians #sauron #morgoth #curufin isn't one to break down sobbing but that's his little boy all grown up and finally back he will definitely cry #i got bored this morning and this came to me on the drive to school

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shdkfreukdjtshgvfiaurlajsdkddlrd · 2 years

Text

lip's as sweet as cake hair as soft as silk and eye's that could kill...part 3

Oh hey my grandson love's Appel's and I have a bunch would you like one the old lady say's as she holds and Apple up for you to take. Oh are sure it's okay I mean there for your grandson are you sure it's okay ma'am. you reply oh of course it's alright my dear. here take a bite . you then grab the apple from her and take a bite. as you see the old lady smirk. oh wow this is good it taste so sweet an- before you could finish you end up passing out and fall backwards. good riddance and have unpleasant dreams y/n the old lady say's as she walks away. then one of the dwarves find you on the ground passed out and call's out the rest of them. they all come running down and lift you onto your bed they tried many times to wake you up but you did not they thought you were dead but you were still breathing. snow started getting worried because you weren't there in your guy's meeting spot. he waited and waited night and day. soon enough he ran to you and the dwarves house and Knock'd on the door only for grumpy to open the door. WAY YOU HOW DARE YOU COME BACK HERE AFTER YOU HURT MY LITTEL GIRL!!! grumpy exclaims as he roll's up his sleeves and gets ready to punch him only for the other's to drag him away. snow then walk's in to see you laying down on the bed. Y/n you're alright thank god. snow sighs as he walks over to you and sits on the side of the bed. y/n hello y/n he places his hand on your face only for it to be cold as ice. Oh my y/n your freezing he says. I don't know what happened to her suddenly we found her on the floor passed out she would not wake up. doc said as he looks at you making snow's eye's wide. what do you mean doc can you do anything to make her better. snow say's in worry. no I'm sorry kid I don't know what to do. the dwarf then leaves the room as he hangs his head low. I'm sorry y/n. snow said as small tear's come out of his eye's I never should have left you I'm sorry y/n snow as he begins crying as he soon leans down to your lips and soon kisses you. he the look's back at your pale face and gets up and head's for the door only for him to hear. Snow is that you mumble as you rub your eyes. he then turns around and wrap's his arms around your waist lifting you out of the bed spinning you around. y/n you're okay I was so worried I thought you were never going to wake up again I love you Y/n he says as he stop's spinning you around and pull's you in for a kiss you soon part and you look up at him and say. I love you too lover boy now I have to let the dwarves now I'm okay. you both walk outside holding hands. and let's say when they saw you they would not let go they all started crying and you all had to reassure them that you were okay. soon snow became king and kicked the evil queen out for doing that to you both visit the dwarves sometimes now you both live happily ever after.

#disney genderbend #disney #genderbend snow white x reader #female reader #x reader

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coffeefrenchandhistory · 1 year

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From one Jewish person and HP fan to another: What do you think of the Hogwarts Legacy controversy when it comes to the anti semitic accusations? For me, I have to bite my tongue and roll my eyes at the goblins issue because imo, goblins and antisemitism have been embedded within each other for literal centuries. I highly doubt that Rowling even thought about that when she was writing the books.

But there are other things that give me pause. Things like the symbol on the floor of Gringotts in the movies looking like the Star of David and the unsettling implications of the main plot of the video game do leave me doing a double take. Those are design choices from Warner Brothers and writing choices from the devs at Legacy Games, and I feel the latter in particular should be investigated.

At the same time, the whole thing makes me want to fold inside myself with agony because the this game is just truly wonderful eye candy for writers and roleplayers. I don't have the money to buy the game since I don't have the money for a PS5, but will I watch someone stream it so I can ogle the landscape? Probably.

What are your thoughts on the matter? If you've spoken about it and I haven't seen it, feel free to point me to where you have. If you don't feel comfortable talking about it, that's also ok.

P.S. If you haven't posted your AU with Sirius's son yet, I look forward to when you do :). It's rare for me to find Sirius's offspring AUs that don't have me rolling my eyes from cliches and bad writing, and what you've shown via tumblr so far is lovely.

I think the accusations are a bit... reaching. And, to be honest, I don't really see the accusations. Goblins have been a thing for centuries, long before Jews, and the goblins of folklore didn't really have an anti-Jewish bent until the days of racial antisemitism in the 19th century. Where European antisemites looked at goblins, twisted them to fit their own hatreds, and painted us as nasty little creatures as a way to dehumanize us. Goblins have been rooted in Scandinavian and Celtic folklore for centuries — magical beings not dissimilar from the Aos Si/Knockers. Depictions range from post-Christian type like Tolkien had, to sort of hobgoblin/brownies "helpful creatures" types.

But the goblins in HP look to be inspired by Germanic/Scandinavian goblins with an interest in mining, crafting, treasure. And JKR likely looked at how Tolkien wrote the dwarves (interest in mining, warriors, make really cool magical weapons) and imbued her goblins with that.

The star that you're talking about was in Australia House, and it was supposed to be a star representing the States of Australia. Is it unfortunate? Sure. But it's not a gotcha moment. It's an unfortunate coincidence.

If people want to condemn antisemitism, there's a fuckton of antisemitism to fight. Antisemitism on the right, on the left, not if some fucking goblin is secretly Jewish coded. Like how, only a few years ago, people rode in cars and trucks through the middle of a Jewish neighborhood in London shouting "fuck the Jews, rape their daughters!". Only last week, a man was arrested for shooting two Jewish men in Los Angeles (he has since be charged with federal hate crimes charges). The "Goyim Defense League" spread neo-Nazi propaganda across several states. Kanye inspired at least 30 antisemitic acts since October.

I want to play Hogwarts Legacy. I do. The only reason I'm not is because I don't have a system on which to play it (my current laptop is a MacBook Air and that's woefully unsuited to gaming). So I feel your pain, anon. I'm trying to save up to buy a good prebuilt gaming PC (or I might just try and build my own).

And thank you! I haven't posted my "Sirius has a son" fic, at least not yet. I want to get maybe a dozen or so chapters written and edited so all I have to do is just post it — plus my beta reader is busy with real life so I don't have anyone to review it. With my other two (now deleted) fanfics, I would publish a chapter and then spend time writing the next chapter in between a full-time job. That was just... putting me in a stressful situation so this time, I just want to have the chapter ready — just plop it into AO3, make whatever last minute edits, and then post.

And feel free to ask whatever you want about Blackborne (the "Sirius has a son" fic) and my other WBWL!Neville fic Living A Nightmare :)

#personal #ask #anon #anonymous #Josh speaks

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sezja · 2 years

Note

What mythical creature would they be represented by?

What real life animal would they be represented by (or Eorzean animals)?

Also for characters I mention here you didn’t reply the colors too.

Any ocs but can we have Marty and Tsimh and bard boys also a challenge, Steph just because I’m curious but please talk about others too I need to meet them. (I swear I’m not playing favorite ocs I love them all) Also Darcy too. Need to know them more.

And too prove I read your posts and make you think, Papawazu!

Also I know nothing about him but Garland, I google later then buy the game.

Also you have a hrothgar? Oh! Never went there. Is it cool? I hope they gave hrothgals and no difference in shape.

Going to make your brain think now.

AMINALS

Thematic OC Questions (still accepting!)

Martiallais: Okay, so for mythical creatures, I feel like he's probably something like a centaur - strong, mobile, able to scoop up Tsimh onto his back and ride off to safety. As a more ordinary animal, I feel like he's likely some kind of bird. A hunting hawk, maybe - intelligent, well-trained, and loyal to those who continue to deserve that loyalty. I don't necessarily have a color theme for him yet - he keeps winding up in dark blues, but that's mostly just the luck of the draw with leveling gear, rather than a deliberate choice. I do think he favors dark colors in clothing, though - easier to remain looking clean while living rough with the poachers, that way.

Tsimh: Fairy. Something small but not to be fucked with. As an ordinary animal, probably like... some kind of small but cute rodent - a mouse, maybe, or a hamster? Something small, but with a fierce bite if you mess with it too much. Her colors are dusky pinks and blue-greys: muted colors, often with white accents.

Stephanivien: Do Dwarves count? Not like the First's Dwarves, obviously, but your traditional blacksmithing dwarves. That's my pick for Steph, though I don't think "traditional" ever suits him, particularly (and it's funny to think of an elezen as a dwarf). In terms of normal animals, god, I have no idea. I want him to be a workshop cat - a big fluffy thing you can pick up and hug between projects. His color, of course, is Deepwood Green.

Darcy: Phoenix, definitely - they are a fire mage, first and foremost, but more importantly they were content to burn away their past life and start again as an apostate (in Dragon Age, this is Big Illegal for mages). In FFXIV, they're a half-Garlean conscript who sees their chance to escape and bolts, straight into Eorzea, never looking back. Either way, the theme of destroying one life to rise again is pretty strong in their life. As a normal animal, absolutely some manner of hellishly clever corvid, too smart for their own good and constantly needing to be rescued by humans.

Papawazu: YESSS MY FAVORITE CAPITALIST Leprechaun. :| No, not because he's a lalafell, but because he makes deals with you, playing by his own rules - rules he's content to modify ("security surcharge. Everybody does it.") as he sees fit. He's a rat. But like, someone's pampered pet rat, sleek and soft and shiny, smart but doesn't have to work hard. Cute but will bite you just to remind you it's got teeth. I love him??? I love him.

Garland: Oh man okay uhhhh. It's hard to say much about Garland without horrendously spoiling FFIX, but I'll do my best. I'll say he's like... a lich, controlling the dead. In his case, it's a dead world, but it counts; he's manipulating souls for his own ends, and whether those ends are justified are up to interpretation. In terms of real-world animals, a tortoise - ancient and armored, content to remain in his shell while others do his bidding. His color, naturally, is the red heart of Terra.

I do have a Hrothgar! And my god, same; ideally what I'd want is for Tajna to look exactly the same way she does now, with she/her pronouns. But I'm not sure I trust SE not to give us... tiny catgirls, but furrier. :c

#long post #thank you!! my goodness i had to think about the mythical creatures

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ladyfenring · 2 years

Note

sleepover saturday!! tell me all your thoughts on rings of power!!

I love it!!! I'm not what you would call a Tolkien nerd - I love the PJ movies, I read the LOTR books in middle school and tried (and failed) to get into the other books - so most of this was new to me, and it was really fun to see things I already kind of knew come together, and things I didn't know anything about. I am SO INVESTED in all the plot lines they've set up, and I really can't wait to see how they dig deeper in the next few seasons and tie them together.

Things I am especially curious about are:

Adar - who is he? what is his deal? Why does Joseph Mawle keeping playing undead guys in high fantasy?

How are the other rings going to be forged!! I have a strong suspicion Galadriel's silence on Halbrand's true identity is going to bite her in the ass when Celebrimbor needs help forging the other rings and possibly seeks out Halbrand for help forging the nine rings for men, but I'm wondering about the rings for the dwarves, which I know even less about?

How did Sauron come to inhabit Halbrand's body? He said he found the seal on a dead man, was Halbrand's body the body of a dead king and Sauron is a necromancer and that's why Adar didn't recognize him? Why did the three evil beautiful women think Sauron was meteored from the sky? I don't know anything about anything.

I'm not curious about this but I'm desperately hoping Halbrand goes to Númenor in chains in the sexiest, most pathetic, most meow meowiest possible fashion. It is what we deserve. Before the horrors.

When is someone going to realize that Isildur is FINE. That boy has been under wreckage FOR THREE EPISODES.

More just a comment but I'm intrigued by the concept of hobbits starting out as these little wanderers who live in great peril and can't stay in one place BECAUSE of all the perils, until they meet Gandalf. He's their best friend, he's their pal, he's their homeboy, their rotten soldier, their sweet cheese, their good time boy.

and finally, WHERE IS CELEBORN? FOR I MUCH DESIRE TO SPEAK WITH HIM.

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weheirsofdurin · 5 months

Text

Beloved Glorfindel 5 @lordofthegoldenflower

lordofthegoldenflower

—

"I did not know your mother, but I have met many of the line of Durin, including the first of that name, over the course of my life," Glorfindel admitted. Would it not be just as uncomfortable to know he had met Durin Ages ago?

"I would not, though that is more because she lives on the other side of the Sea and I do not see myself returning to those shores. She is a lovely person, but not one that truly interests me," he admitted. It was hard to explain the way his attention was usually caught by those with a spine of steel as well as the ability to be gentle with those who need it. "Besides, she is too good a friend with my father, so I don't think she would be interested in spending more time with me."

He took a deep drink of his ale to earn himself a bit of a break at that thought. His father had never been a pleasant topic for him. He chuckled dryly at the outburst. "Well in that elves and dwarves are similar."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

Fili chuckled and finally took his first bite of warm food. As he felt the heat course through him with his swallow his shoulders sagged and a deep exhaustion hit him. It made him want to rest even though he was particularly enjoying his breakfast

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel saw the moment Fili's shoulders sagged and felt guilty. "I am sorry, my lord. You have roused yourself from bed to share this meal with me when you have been busy enough to be kept from your bed by worries. I should be leaving you to your rest."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“Nay!” Fili jumped to his feet and reached for Glorfindel to keep her from leaving. “Please stay, I wish to ken ye more i do nay mean for you to feel guilt for naught. I invited ye to dine so tis not on ye. I felt a moments lps of fatigue im better now, promise.”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel took Fili's hand gently, trying to comfort the dwarf. "I promise I have no plan of leaving this room without assistance. My ability to get lost is nigh legendary amongst the citizens of Imladris, and I have never been in these halls before. I merely meant that you appear tired. I would not have any discomfort of any kind fall upon your shoulders on my account."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

Fili too felt guilty. Differently than Glorfindel but a form of guilt. He had wanted this date, wanted to impress, it was his own fault he was tired as he bathed before coming, dressed ornately, and even fixed his braids. He had taken so much extra time to do all that. “I am… sorry our first meal together is so disappointing to ye. Forgive me. If ye wish to return to yer elves I can show ye the way or if ye wish for another to ill have them come and do so.”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

"I fear you misunderstand me, my lord," Glorfindel said gently. He gently pulled the hand in his close enough he could cradle it between his own without moving his bad side too much. "I am truly enjoying sharing this meal with you. I just do not want you to harm yourself just to spend time with me when my head is lost in the clouds."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

His own head ached from an oncoming migraine. “I’m enjoying it too, even though I am weary. But that is from the battle and reports. Nay anything ye have done. Ah- I did promise to tell ye about the battle too. I wish to stay and talk with ye if ye would have me.” He shifted his hand to free his thick thumb so as to rub the rough digit over the elf’s fairly smooth skin.

lordofthegoldenflower

—

"Yes, please," Glorfindel said seriously, looking down to where Fili's thumb was running over his knuckles. He smiled at the feeling, a flight of butterflies going through his gut at the gesture. "I welcome anything you wish to tell me, but would very much appreciate an update on any additional injury to my men."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“I understand.” Reluctantly he tugged his hand away to grab his chair and he tugged it next to glorfindel. His food abandoned as he honestly felt no hunger anymore.

“Yer men are uninjured from the battle. My brother did more damage than any orc to them so ye need not worry. The sentries I posted to watch yer camp and keep an eye out for the ones that injured yours did as I’d hoped. They saw the enemy and sounded a battle horn. Ye saw all that were injured. And of those only one was of any seriousness. Two wargs, fifteen orcs were felled. From the report I got this morning a camp of them had been found, fifty strong, but they are in our territory. We will clear them tomorrow.”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel listened closely to the information he was being given. "Valar, it is good your sentries were there. My men are well trained, but they were already worn by our first battle," he said seriously. They had truly been lucky they had encountered the orcs so close to the dwarven lands. They had been a scouting party, not equipped for an encampment of that size.

"After you clear that camp, I would send scouts searching for another of at least that size," he said seriously. "We were scouting news that had been carried to us by both merchants and the Rangers. We fear they may be attempting to become entrenched somewhere here in the North."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“Tis why they were, honestly. I was nay sure how your caravan faired though I was sure twas nay well. I doubled the watch upon your sighting. I thought over night or this day an attack would come.”

He gave a tired shrug, it’s what he would do if he were chasing an enemy. Stack over night while they were run down or the next day when they thought they’d escaped him. Orcs were impatient so he had been sure overnight was the key.

“Aye, we will worry about one band at a time though. I do nay want to weary mine out too fast or between figh- wait.” The second bit of what Glorfindel said finally catching up to him. “Ye said ye were from imladris? Why did ye have word coming from here?” This area relied on the dwarves for protection, materials, and hard labor. So why were merchants and rangers sending word to an elven settlement out of the way for what they should have been communicating to the dwarves?

lordofthegoldenflower

—

"It is a solid strategy. It's a good thing that there are not many among their number that are true strategists, it would be harder to stand against them," Glorfindel mused, shuddering a bit at the mere thought. Fighting the forces of the Shadow was hard enough without them actually being smart.

He blinked at the questions. "I didn't say the people in this exact area were sending us word, travelers brought tales and rumors. Also, I did say my skill in getting lost is nearly legendary? We may have gotten turned about after our skirmish."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“But the orcs ye searched for were here - are here. And ye can’t have gotten that lost- …” his face revealed the incredulity that befell him. “North. We are nah considered north. We are the southern area. Ye have to pass the gray havens to get to the north. Where were ye aiming for?!”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel blinked before blushing deeply. "I...I told them that I should not be the one to choose directions. I told them this would happen," he said dramatically before slumping back in his chair.

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“Lady Glorfindel!” His jaw literally dropped. He’d hoped she’d say the northern area of the southern mountain range as ered luin was cut by the river lhun. That was at least near.

Cursing in dwarvish he too slumped as his migraine worsened. “I can nah allow ye to go back home. Ye will ne’er make it! Ye will be in mordor afore ye make it to imladris!”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel huffed. "Or you can just show a map to Glirion, he has a much better sense of direction than I do, and he does not let me forget that fact. I will not hear the end of this for decades." WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“I might if I knew who he was. Perhaps he is yer husband? Should I be worried that this will be considered an illicit meeting?” It was meant to be teasing as he didn’t think she would have agreed to meeting without a chaperone if she was involved with another. No lass would.

Unintentionally he yawned. “Mahal, excuse me. That was rude.”

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel nearly choked at the sudden questions, and could only blink with surprise for a moment. "I promise I am unwed and unattached," he started, still blushing. It wasn't that people hadn't tried, they just tended to be more interested in his titles than him.

"Glirion is my second."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“Ah, second ex husband. I see.” Fili nodded and held his chin as if in deep thought. Watching the elf to see how she would react before chortling at her. “Aye, I ken ye are nay. No lass would meet a man unsupervised if she were interested in another seriously.” Giving her time to collect herself he waited.

He fought another yawn as he stared at the fire, eyes drooping more by the moment. It wouldn’t be long afore he fell asleep if she didn’t wake him.

lordofthegoldenflower

—

Glorfindel chuckled, realizing Fili was joking. "You are quite the tease," he pointed out before watching the dwarf droop further into his chair.

"Perhaps you should return to your bed, Lord Fili. I fear you will fall from your chair."

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

“Nay, my lady,” his voice was deep and low, his fight with resting was a losing one. “Tis too interesting to speak of your past lovers to retire now. Tis too early in the day to seek a bed anyway.” Even so his eyes slid shut and he slumped in his seat though he wasn’t near falling.

lordofthegoldenflower

—

"I am not one to kiss and tell," Glorfindel said, not wanting to open the can of worms that was this history of his love life.

It became clear that Fili was not going to leave his chair, especially once he slumped down in his spot. He shook his head fondly, looking at the now clearly sleeping dwarf. He sat there for a moment before standing to peruse the books in the library for a bit before deciding he was too tired to focus on a book. Instead he lay down in front of the fireplace and carefully pillowed his head on his good arm and let himself fall into a nap of his own

WeHeirsOfDurin

—

Fili hasn’t been serious about the past lovers, just another tease was all. Though one day he would like to ask, to learn, and not be overly jealous. Instead for now he snored loudly as servants took the food away.

lordofthegoldenflower

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Glorfindel was grateful when he was shown back to the camp of his warriors, feeling more comfortable surrounded by his men. He did know that they felt better having him back with them as well. It wasn't that they distrusted the dwarves, but they also didn't have the best relationship with them at the same time.

Even though he was no longer in the care of the Dwarven healers, he was not in any state to travel. Thankfully, he was the only one that was in that state, and they were just waiting for him to heal a bit more before they could head home.

Unfortunately, they were still making him have the pain draughts and they were helping him heal physically, but his mental state was suffering. His dreams were dark, leaving him more drained in the morning as shadows haunted his steps. He only hoped he wouldn't pop his stitches by tossing and turning in the night

#lordofthegoldenflower #beloved glorfindel

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