#tyrael ashborne

[dracoqueen22]

Final Flash Fiction Fill!

For Eph, who requested some Sinoun flirting with Tyrael, from my original series “Tethers” 

Dance With Me

Tyrael is entirely too easy to rattle, which is why it’s so much fun. 

There’s something enticing about the loyalty Tyrael has for the man he left behind -- a loyalty he’d offered without knowing anything of the wider world and the temptations it offered. 

Sinoun loves to see how far he can push Tyrael until Tyrael pushes back. He wonders just how far that loyalty goes. 

He wonders if there’s any way to claim that loyalty for himself. 

Tyrael requires, in equal measures, a delicate touch and a heavy hand. Quiet moments on watch where Sinoun listens intently, offers shared body heat in a chaste manner to chase away the chill of a long night. More verbose moments on the tavern floor, when the raucous noise of too many strangers and their other party members divide Tyreal’s attention. 

He blushes with a compliment. He’s angry when Sinoun is too direct. But he yields when Sinoun plays the game, flirtatious and seemingly benign. 

He’s delicious. 

There’s music. There’s dancing. It’s a night of revelry and fun. Even Dakota has conceded to the festive atmosphere, trading tips with a fellow knitter rather than sulking in a dark corner. There’s not a glum face to be found. 

Someone has given Tyrael a cup of fireberry ale. That someone might have been Sinoun. But it makes Tyrael friendly, offering small smiles, more open to affection. He lets Celeste hug him. He briefly dances with Tempest before her eye is caught by another halfling woman, half-spilling out of her blouse and looking for a fun romp. 

If Sinoun had not been so focused on Tyrael, he might have gone after the halfling, but now Tempest has staked a claim, and Sinoun is content to sling an arm around Tyrael’s waist, press along Tyrael’s side, and enjoy the lazy slouch of Tyrael’s weight against him. 

Without his perpetual scowl, Tyrael is even more charming. His hair is loose over his shoulders, thin braids falling in all directions. His cheeks are flushed; his eyes are bright. 

He’s not drunk, but he’s far more open, and Sinoun is not one to waste an opportunity when it’s presented. 

“Dance with me,” he murmurs into Tyrael’s ear, breathing warm and moist over the sensitive skin, feeling Tyrael shiver. He presses his fingers against Tyrael’s waist. “Please?” 

Tyrael is quiet, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he drinks from his mug, drains it every drop, and clumsily puts it on the table behind him. He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth, and turns his head to look at Sinoun. 

The bonfire reflects in his eyes, and they’re close enough to kiss now. It’s a craving Sinoun resists. He wants Tyrael to close the distance. 

He doesn’t. 

“Fine,” he says, and he grins, as though he’s won this round, and he has. Because that smile shoots a dagger to Sinoun’s heart. “One dance.” 

“Two,” Sinoun bargains, taking Tyrael’s free hand and tangling their fingers together. He swings Tyrael toward the other swaying bodies, moving to the music. “At least one of which lets press as close as I like.” 

His fingers knead along Tyrael’s side before sliding around to his spine, pressing against the curve of his back, urging them closer. They are nearly of a height, though Tyrael is much broader in the shoulder than he. 

Tyrael lifts his chin. “One that allows you close, or two that keeps us separate.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” Sinoun breathes and leans in close enough to suggest he might kiss the edge of Tyrael’s jaw. 

He doesn’t, but he knows Tyrael anticipates it all the same by the way he waits without pushing Sinoun away. 

“One then,” Sinoun says, and briefly brushes his cheek to Tyrael’s before he draws away. “And I get a kiss.” 

It’s a gamble. 

Tyrael can call the whole thing off and walk away, and Sinoun will have gained nothing. Or, struck by a loneliness months apart from his lover, Tyrael might finally yield. 

Sinoun holds his breath. 

“One of each,” Tyrael says, and exhales shakily. “But no tongue.” 

His gamble has paid off. 

One dance and one kiss, both freely given? It’s a greater victory than he has won in years. 

“Deal,” Sinoun says, and swings Tyrael out to join the dance.

***

#Sinoun #Tyrael Ashborne #series: Tethers #original fiction #original fantasy fiction #flash fiction fills #open mic night answers #raw unedited fic

[dracoqueen22]

Work in Progress

Universe: Tethers, Pre-Canon Characters: Celeste Stiel, Tyrael Ashborne Rated: K+ Desc: Celeste has been searching her entire life, and she’s still not sure what it is she’s trying to find. She's eleven, knobby-kneed and awkward, her hair a short poof around her head, her face streaked with dirt, her pinky toe broken, and she's missing a tooth. Auntie and Uncle sit her down, they tell her that if she wants to, now is the time. She should choose a god to serve, or let one choose her. She can wait another year, if she wants, but the longer she waits, the harder it'll be. "I want to serve Cyrillus," Celeste tells them, with the innocence of a child who has no idea how cruel the gods can be. "Just like Tyrael.”

Auntie and Uncle look at each other. Behind her, Tyrael snorts. "You can't," he says, thirteen years old and a know-it-all. He's already getting broad in the shoulders, and tall, taller even than his father. "Cyrillus already picked me, and he's not gonna pick anyone else." "Tyrael, hush," Uncle says. "Go play with Junie," Auntie says. Tyrael scowls and glowers, and thinks to protest, but Uncle lifts his chin and narrows his eyes, and Tyrael sighs like he's been given some great burden. "Fine," he says, and stomps out of the room, because he's thirteen and Celeste is his cousin-little sister, and as much as he loves her, he kind of hates her a little. Celeste crosses her arms and pouts. "Why wouldn't Cyrillus want me?"

(Read More)   

#original fiction #draco writes original fic #series: tethers #original fantasy fiction #celeste stiel #tyrael ashborne #I say DND adjacent but honestly #it's totally original universe #even these familiar species will change eventually

[dracoqueen22]

Port in a Storm

Title: Port in a Storm

Universe: Tethers, Pre-Canon

Characters: Rathi, Tyrael Ashborne, Celeste Stiel

Rating: T (for fantasy typical violence)

Description: On her way from one landmass to the next, Rathi meets two very interesting mortals, and finds herself with two new friends.

This is part of my original fiction series Tethers, and here we have another addition of the pre-canon/pre-main story introductions that I’ve been writing to give me practice with the characters and help introduce them to readers as well.

Feedback is absolutely welcome and appreciated so please let me know if you enjoyed it!  

#original fiction #draco writes original fic #series: tethers #dnd adjacent fantasy setting

[dracoqueen22]

For Eph, who requested Rathi and Sinoun’s challenge to make the team look fashionable

Makeover

They had three days before the ship would be safe to sail again. 

While Tyrael had suggested they spend those three days in the best inn the port had to offer, Celeste managed to talk him down to a mediocre inn which would save their coin, but still provide comfort. 

When Tyrael suggested they all remain in their rooms for the three-day period in order to get some rest and keep a low profile, Rathi had firmly put her foot down. In fact, everyone save Dakota and Easton had loudly protested the suggestion of hiding themselves away for three days, when they would have to spend the next two weeks in cramped quarters while they crossed the ocean. 

Tyrael nearly had a mutiny on his hands. 

“I have a better idea,” Sinoun said as he looked over the assembled group with a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “We’re going shopping.” 

“We have all the supplies we need,” Dakota grumbled. 

“And we don’t really have the coin for shopping,” Celeste said, though there was a light of excitement in her eyes that suggested she very much liked the idea of it. 

Sinoun waved a hand. “Honestly, I can’t be seen with all of you looking like this.” He pointed to Dakota. “You especially.” 

Dakota rolled his eyes. 

“Are you offering to be our sugar daddy?” Rathi drawled, lips curved in a smirk, one Sinoun returned with equal smugness. 

“If you wear whatever I buy for you, I will foot the bill,” Sinoun said. 

“Oh, you are so going to regret saying that,” Rathi said as she grabbed Celeste by the arm and hauled her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s drain him of every coin he’s worth.” 

Celeste flushed and looked down at her robes. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” 

Sinoun frowned. “You look like you walked out of some backwater village and never looked back. That robe does nothing for you except hide you when you deserve to shine.” He looked Celeste up and down. “Brighter colors for you, I think. I know just the place.” 

“Count me out,” Dakota said. “I have no problem staying in the room.” He held up a balled bundle of clothing. “I have work to do.” 

“And leave me by myself?” Tempest demanded, hands on her hips, lower lip jutting out on the way to a pout. “Besides, he’s got a point. That tunic’s been patched so many times, I don’t think it’s the original color anymore.” 

Dakota glowered. 

“Oh, it’s been ages since I’ve been clothing shopping,” Nym said with a bright smile. His tail swished excitedly behind him. “Especially with others. My sisters have no sense of taste.” 

“I have no interest in being your doll,” Easton said from the corner where he curled in a chair, book in his lap. “I’m content to spend the next three days in this room.” 

Sinoun raised his eyebrows. “The brooding vampire look went out years ago, pretty.” He planted his hands on his hips and looked around the room. “And did I happen to mention this wasn’t optional? Because it isn’t. We’re all going shopping, we’re all getting new clothes, so that when we arrive in Veboya, none of us stand out.” 

“He has a point,” Tyrael said with a sigh. He dragged himself to his feet, moving with all the energy of a man who had been sentenced to death. “If we hope to pass through Veboya without attracting too much attention, we’ll need to be as unobtrusive as possible.” 

Tempest mouthed the word, and looked up at Dakota who explained, “We need to blend in.”

“Oh,” she said. 

Sinoun clapped his hands. “On your feet, everyone. We’re losing daylight, and we’ve got places to go.” He eyed the assembled group of excited and less so adventurers. “I think we’re going to start with whoever needs the most work.” 

Rathi snorted a laugh. “So is that Easton or Dakota?” 

“I am not agreeing to this,” Dakota said. 

“Fine,” Easton said, marking his place in his book and setting it aside. He leveraged himself out of his chair, sweeping stray strands of hair out of his face. 

Dakota shot him a look of betrayal, since he would be unable to refuse if he was the last man standing. 

Easton shrugged. “Free clothes,” he said. “So long as it’s not my coin we’re spending, I don’t see why I can’t take advantage of the situation.” 

“Can I get new leggings?” Tempest pointed to the multiple patches in her current pair. 

“Everyone is getting something new,” Sinoun declared. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that whatever we get you will look amazing,” Rathi reassured Celeste, who ducked her head, trying and failing to hide her flush behind her hair. 

Nym was already at the door, holding it open. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go!” 

Dakota sighed. 

It was going to be a long three days. 

***

#Rathi of the Cinders #universe: tethers #original fiction #sinoun #dakota sorrel #tempest teapot #celeste stiel #tyrael ashborne #easton | riordan shaye #nym tattersail #Draco writes original fiction #draco writes #open mic night answers #flash fic fills #raw unedited fic

[dracoqueen22]

[Tethers] Capes and Pants

Title: Pants and Capes Universe: Tethers Characters: Tyrael Ashborn, Tempest Teapot, Dakota Sorrel Rated: K+ Description: Tyrael’s new companions continue to bafffle him in ways he never expected. “What are you doing?” Tyrael tries to ignore the nosy question. He hunches his shoulders and stares harder at the parchment smoothed out in front of him. A few inked lines scrawl across the paper, but words are hard, especially words like these. They have to be the right words, honest, but not too revealing. Truthful, without spilling his heart on the page. He misses Elias, all the way down to his marrow, but a part of him worries Elias might not miss him in return. The distance stretches between them, further and further, with every step Tyrael takes from home. Elias might find another, someone who hasn’t gone on a quest of indeterminable length, and who might die in the pursuit of it. “What are you writing?”

Tyrael huffs and curves his body away from Tempest, attempting to shield the paper from her point of view. “If it was something I wanted to share, I would have told everyone.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not the greatest reader.” Thump goes Tempest’s elbow as she leans on the table beside him. “I was just curious. We’re still strangers, right? We should get to get to know each other.” "For what reason?" Tyrael asks. Tempest wriggles her whole body in a shrug. "Because we're going to be friends." She cranes her neck to try and peer over his arm. "Celeste said you had a boyfriend. Are you writing to him?" Tyrael sighs and scans the common room of the inn, searching the tables full of people engaged in quiet conversation. Easton is off by himself in a dark corner, reading a book while he sips on a tankard, but Tyrael sees no one else from their party. "Where is Dakota?" "He took my pants and went up to our room," Tempest says, and despite himself, Tyrael looks down. She is indeed without pants. Her tunic drapes to mid-thigh, and her boots come up to mid-calf, but her bare, scarred knees are visible to all and sundry. He fears what the world might see if she were to bend over. "Why...?" Tyrael pauses, draws a breath to comport himself. "Why did he take your pants?" And how? Had she simply stripped them off here in the common room? Or had she undressed upstairs and then come back downstairs as if her partial nudity was of no concern? "Because they were ripped," Tempest says in a tone which implies Tyrael is dumb for even asking. She grins and leans forward. "So. Is it a letter to your boyfriend?" "Why didn't you go with him?" Tyrael asks. Tempest furrows her brow, looking genuinely confused. "Why would I? The ale's down here. Watching him fix a rip is boring." She brightens. "Maybe if I'm lucky, there'll be a fight." "Not in this place, I wager," Tyrael says, casting a pointed look around them. It's a subdued inn they've found this time around, full of hard-working individuals too tired after a long day's work to do much more than eat, drink, and engage in quiet chatter. Denize is not a rowdy village which is precisely why Tyrael enjoys it so much. A shame it's only a brief stopover on their way from Marbadan to Port Udousk. "Then conversation it is!" Tempest grins and her whole body wriggles, like a puppy demanding attention. "You still haven't answered my question." Tyrael sighs. The ink has long dried, so he carefully rolls up the parchment once more. "Yes," he says. "I was writing a letter to someone important to me." "Your boyfriend?" Tempest plants her elbow on the table and leans her head against her knuckles. "What's his name?" Tyrael tucks the parchment behind his plate armor. "Elias. He's back home. In Alduin." "Why didn't he come with you?" Tempest asks. "Because this is my quest, not his," Tyrael says. Tempest blinks and her brow furrows again. "Is it Celeste's quest, too?" "She invited herself." Tyrael sits back in his chair and signals the server for another drink. He's going to need one if he's going to get through this conversation. "As for Elias... he had other duties he couldn't abandon to accomplish my quest." "Is he waiting for you?" Tempest asks. Tyrael's mouth opens, then closes. He hadn't asked, because he didn't want a promise neither of them could keep. He certainly hopes Elias is willing to wait, but he also doesn't want Elias to be alone. If he meets someone else, Tyrael wishes them well. Or at least, that would be the honorable thing to say. His heart aches at the idea of letting Elias go. "My quest could take a long time," Tyrael says instead. "If I return at all." Tempest scrunches her nose. "You think you might die?" "It's a dangerous world," Tyrael says. He rubs his wrist where their encounter with a trapworm had nearly cost him his hand. If not for Celeste, he might have been forced to trade in his greatsword for something he could wield with only one hand. "I'm realistic." "I mean, I'm realistic, too, but I prefer to think things are going to turn out okay," Tempest says. She taps her chin, her ears flicking in an adorable manner. It’s hard, sometimes, not to see her as a youth given her behavior. Harder still to know she’s actually older than him. "You really love him, huh? That's nice. I don't really do 'love,' but I think it's nice you have someone." Tyrael furrows his brow. There she goes again, saying something odd as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. "What is that supposed to mean?" Tempest blinks and looks confused. "Um. That I think it's sweet you have a boyfriend?" She sits up and tilts her head. "And I hope you can see him again soon?" "No, I meant the other thing." "What other thing?" Tyrael sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Nevermind. I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose. Only time will tell what actually happens." "Just gotta have faith," Tempest chirps, but she leans a little to the left, staring past him, toward one of the table clusters. "Hey, you think he wants company?" "Who?" Gods, she has the attention span of a gnat. Tyrael twists to follow her gaze, seeing a lone elf sitting at a table, soot staining his clothes and cheeks, his worn hands cupping a mug of ale. It's impossible to guess his age, given the longspan of elves, but as to whether he desires company? Tyrael doesn't know. Then again, he hadn't wanted company and that hadn't stopped Tempest. "Maybe?" Tyrael hazards. Tempest grins and hops down from the chair, adjusting her clothes and tugging her tunic a bit open at the lapel, physically adjusting the swell of her chest. "I'm going to find out." Tyrael blinks. "But you're a halfling." "I am?" Tempest's eyes widen in false surprise. Tyrael rolls his eyes. "Fine. I see your point. At least promise me you have protection." Tempest beams at him and pats her side. "Got a dagger right here. Don't leave home without it. Sweet of you to worry though." She tugs at her clothes again, showing even more skin than her unclad legs offer. "Wish me luck." He isn't sure she needs it. She's got confidence oozing out of her, and she struts up with her shoulders raised and a jaunty pep to her step. She swings by the barkeep, gets two more mugs, and saunters right up to the elf's table, sliding the mug down in front of him. They are too far for Tyrael to hear their conversation, but he sees the surprise, and then the invitation in the elf's face. Tempest grins and hops up into the chair, her tunic riding up and showing off an obscene amount of thigh, plus the beginning curve of a buttock. She leans forward, squeezing her bosom between her arms, and yes, the elf's eyes drop to it. Clearly someone is going to have a happy ending tonight. Tyrael pulls out his parchment for Elias and his quill and dampens the tip. He re-reads what he's written already, and manages to add a few lines before the back of his neck prickles, and he registers someone looming a foot or so away from him. He sighs quietly and puts down his quill, looking up to see Dakota standing over him, his face built into a glower, though Tyrael suspects that's merely his default expression. "Where is Tempest?" he asks and only then does Tyrael realize he's clutching fabric which looks like a scarf in his hands, but must actually be Tempest's leggings. "I am not her keeper," Tyrael says, but he tilts his head toward the corner where he'd last seen her. "She's wooing a companion for the night." Dakota's eyes narrow. He looks past Tyrael and sighs. "She must have succeeded," he rumbles and looks exasperated as he balls up the leggings and tucks them into a pouch. Tyrael glances in the corner. Indeed, both Tempest and the elf are gone. "You're not worried?" he asks. Dakota snorts. "She can take care of herself." He looks around the common room, brow furrowing as he lingers on Easton before he returns his attention to Tyrael. "You tore your cloak." Tyrael blinks and follows the line of Dakota's gaze. There is indeed a rip in his cloak, probably from the bramble bush which caught him earlier. His luck has been absolutely terrible since leaving Alduin, from the seasickness to the thievery to the trapworm and now the bramble bush. He sighs. "So I did." Tyrael fingers the fabric. Elias had bought this for him, having commissioned one of the temple wardens to weave it. Tyrael hadn’t worn it before receiving the quest, and Elias had insisted he do so. "Give it here." "Um." Tyrael's hand moves to his clasp before he realizes what he's doing. "Why?" "Do you want the tear fixed or not?" Dakota asks. Tyrael feels like he's in the middle of a conversation he doesn't remember having. "I do, but--" "Then let me have it, and I'll fix it." Dakota holds out his hand expectantly. Tyrael finishes with the clasp and sweeps the cloak from his shoulders. "Thank you. I appreciate that." He hands it over. "This is, um, important to me." "Like the pouch, I wager. I understand." Dakota dips his head into a nod as he accepts the cloak, folding it into a neat square for him to carry. "You'll have it back at breakfast." He offers a two-fingered salute before he lumbers away, the most incongruent thing in this tavern right now. If it bothers him, Dakota shows no sign. He’s probably used to it. Tyrael sighs and rubs his forehead. He stares down at the letter for Elias. He’s been working on it for weeks. He wonders if he’s ever going to finish it. He rolls up the parchment and tucks it back into his armor. He finishes his mug of ale and rises from the table, feeling oddly light without the sweep of his cape. He casts a glance around the common room once more, but even Easton has vanished from the corner, leaving Tyrael the last of the party to retire for the evening. He climbs the stairs to the room he shares with Nym, opening the door as quietly as he can, not that it matters as the gemfling sleeps like the dead and has no self-preservation instincts whatsoever. It’s a terribly good thing he’s attached himself to their party, because Tyrael fears he might not have survived wandering the world alone. It’s not naivete, but a sheer lack of survival instinct. Nym snores; Tyrael painstakingly strips out of his armor and climbs into the bed, under blankets he hopes are clean, but the smell suggests otherwise. He pulls the pillow over his head to muffle Nym’s raucous breathing. They have a long day of travel tomorrow, toward a decision as vague as the quest he’s undertaken. He misses Elias with a terrible ache in the center of his chest. He hadn’t understood the weight of duty until he left Alduin. It’s becoming increasingly clear he hadn’t understood much at all. This is the vow he’s made, however, and he can’t turn his back on Cyrillus. He can only keep moving forward. Perhaps tomorrow he’ll finish the letter. Tyrael closes his eyes and goes to sleep. ***

a/n: Feedback would be absolutely lovely. I’m still building this original world of mine, practicing my characters before I start the main narrative, and I’d love to know what people think!

#original fantasy fiction #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original characters #tethers series #series: tethers #draco writes original fic

[dracoqueen22]

Title: A Likely Story  

Universe: Tethers, Pre-Canon

Characters: Celeste Stiel, Rathi of the Cinders, Tyrael Ashborne, Dakota Sorrel, Tempest Teapot

Rated: K+

Warnings: Fantasy Typical Violence

Description: A single pilfered purse introduces Tyrael and his crew to Dakota and Tempest, inspiring a team up none of them could have expected.

a/n: It’s 11k words so I opted not to post the whole thing here on Tumblr, but I linked to my AO3. Please feel free to read and comment! I’d love to know what you think of my characters. :)

#original fiction #series: tethers #draco writes original fic #dnd adjacent fantasy setting