#AlFaust

[the-real-couchrat]

The Book of Bill has been reminding me of my two favorite blorbos, so I made some (off canon) doodles

Spoiler warning for Judgement Day below the cut.

Alternate version

Try to ignore the pixels pls, I made it smaller than I meant to.

Also a larger version of Jan’s bubble:

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - A Special Day

Something was missing. Even with slumber’s haze still shrouding most of his mind as he stirred, Mar could sense the noticeable difference in his surroundings almost immediately. There was meant to be a beautiful dwarf cozily curled up beside him in bed, and yet when his eyes fluttered open, he was greeted instead by an empty space, the smells of incense and herbs lingering on the sheets the only evidence that his wife had once been there at all. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts as he slowly sat up on the mattress, the elf recalled that he had sensed Guinevere slipping as quietly as she could from the bed during his nightly trance, though not before depositing a loving peck on his forehead as he rested. It was strange, however, for her to wake before him, just as strange in fact as her heading to bed much earlier than usual the previous night. The more he mulled over his wife’s odd behavior, the more Mar’s innards began to uneasily twist and churn in his belly. However, just as his ears started to droop like wilting leaves, they perked up again at the soft padding of feet against the wooden floorboards of the hallway, Guinevere’s distinct gait unmistakable.

As their bedroom door creaked open, Mar’s nose was immediately flooded by several distinct and delectable scents wafting into the room. The sharp tang of citrus, the slightly tart sweetness of berries, the hearty warmth of something freshly baked, the sugary yet woody aroma of syrup, and the bitter bite of coffee ebbed by milk and some kind of sweetener all mingled in the air as the elf’s attention was drawn to his darling wife, her arms laden with a large tray. 

“You’re awake! Damn it, I knew I should’ve gotten up earlier.” Guinevere remarked, her bottom lip puckering in a slight pout as she shuffled towards her husband, the dishes and cutlery on the platter clattering faintly with each step. “You haven’t been up long, have you?”

When Mar shook his head, the troubled wrinkle along Guin’s brow relaxed and her pout shifted into a gentle smile instead. Circling around to the druid’s side, she carefully balanced the tray on the bedside table before hopping up beside him on the mattress, her arms circling around his middle while she leaned against him. Mar surveyed the contents of the platter with wide eyes, the variety of fresh fruits sparkling like rare gemstones while steam curled off of the biggest, fluffiest pancakes the elf had ever seen. Almost as if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly, having promptly unraveled all the knots it twisted itself into only moments ago at the promise of food.

“Is this for me?”

“Mmm hmm, although I’m contractually obligated to tell you that I had some help putting it together. I was going to try and make the pancakes myself, but Butter insisted I ‘leave it to a professional,’” Guinevere rambled, rolling her eyes but smiling all the same. Lifting herself up onto her knees, she delicately kissed her husband’s cheek, which flushed a soft shade of dark rose at her touch. “Happy Birthday, Mar.”

In that instant, any lingering trepidation in Mar’s heart evaporated on the spot, and he chuckled softly at himself, his fretting now seeming quite foolish. The only offense his sweet little wife was guilty of was trying to surprise him to remind him of his specialness to her, behavior which correlated perfectly with her nature. His chest swelling with a feathery lightness now, he pivoted his body towards Guinevere and seized her lips in a tender kiss, her taste still the sweetest flavor to ever hit his tongue. He felt her hands come to rest on either side of his face while his own fingers found their way to her lower back, both of them leaning deeper into the leisurely embrace. 

“You’re…wearing that berry lip gloss again.” Mar murmured when their lips parted, his own already curving into an amused smirk. “I thought your supply was running low and you were trying to save what you had left until you could get more.”

“Well, today’s a special occasion. A little extra effort felt appropriate.” Guinevere replied, donning her own impish smile as her eyes sparkled like polished silver.

A little extra effort. Those coy words rang in Mar’s ears as his eyes drank in his wife’s appearance, finally observing that the lip gloss wasn’t the only difference in her look. Instead of the nightshirt he distinctly remembered her wearing the previous evening, her curves were now snugly wrapped in the robin’s egg blue fabric of a satin bathrobe, the tiniest twitch of the flesh beneath causing the material to ripple and shimmer in the morning light. As his gaze traveled along the garment’s steep neckline and mid-thigh hem that left little to the imagination, he could already feel another kind of hunger starting to smolder deep in his belly, a hunger that begged him to remove what minimal space separated the two of them by pulling the little cleric onto his lap with her delectably plump thighs straddling him. However, before his yearnings could get the better of him, his attention was ensnared by a boxy outline straining against a pocket in the robe.

Giggling at the curious furrowing of her husband’s brow, Guinevere slipped her hand into the pocket and plucked out the small, somewhat clumsily wrapped package inside. “Don’t laugh at the paper. I did my best but you know ‘delicate’ things aren’t really my forte. Besides, you’re just going to rip it off anyways.”

Once she placed the small box in his hands, a rascally twinkle ignited in Mar’s eyes as he briefly glanced at his wife and then back at the package, his slender fingers tracing along its side until he discovered the edge of decorative wrapping. Gradually, he began to peel back the paper along the seams with exaggerated care to ensure it didn’t rip, antics which earned him a playful swat on his bicep accompanied by more of Guinevere’s melodious laughter. He tossed the parchment aside with a showy flourish, but as he removed the lid of the box to reveal its contents, his mischief began to give way to genuine awe. Nestled atop a plush cushion were two golden hair pins that almost seemed to glow when they caught a beam of sun. Clusters of dainty leaves interwoven with sprigs of pearls sprouted along each shaft, every ridge and divot in the metal almost lifelike, and perched amid a bed of foliage near the top of each stick was a sizeable golden moth, its wings unfurled to showcase their intricate detailing.

“I’m going to assume that gobsmacked expression means you like them.” Guin purred, looking rather pleased with herself as she gingerly fished out one of the ornaments. “I just about drove Ursa crazy with how long I was deliberating over different designs, but I wanted to make sure they suited you perfectly.”

“Oh? And why was this choice ‘perfect’ for me? I’m curious now.” Mar mused while running his longer along one of the bug’s impossibly fine antennae. “I mean, I see a little resemblance but something tells me there’s more to it than that.”

“Well-“ Guin began, gently placing the hair pin back in the box alongside its twin before reaching up to brush a stray strand of Mar’s hair away from his face, “-moths are often misunderstood. Some people believe all these misconceptions about them, but those that take the time to learn the truth know what beautiful, gentle, elegant, and majestic creatures they really are.”

For a moment, Mar was at a loss for words and could only stare at his wife, at those gray eyes that saw so much more than just what was directly in front of her. Setting her present aside, he wrapped her in a tight embrace, his face burying in the curve of her neck as he tried to find his voice again.

“You really are something else.” he eventually whispered against her skin, “My greatest gift of all.”

A crimson blush invading her face while little wings fluttered frantically about in her stomach, Guinevere deposited yet another kiss on Mar’s cheek before turning her attention back to the tray on the bedside table. “The food’s going to get cold soon if you don’t eat it. Have your breakfast and then you can decide what you want to do for your special day, okay?”

“Mmm, as good as everything looks, can I have the gourmet meal right in front of me instead?” Mar purred while his hands crept their way back down to firmly clasp her hips. “It looks so delicious: some warm rolls, supple thighs, and an extra generous serving of cake-“

“MAR ALFAUST!” Guinevere squealed shrilly, trying and failing to wriggle free from her husband’s grasp as her cheeks transitioned from a soft pink to a vibrant scarlet. “Eat the breakfast that damn cat and I made for you!”

“Yes, Guinedeer,” her husband crooned cheekily, lifting his head so he could nuzzle his nose against her burning temple. With his lips hovering just beside her ear, he quietly added, “Thank you for all of this, my love. Thank you for making me feel special.”

“You are special, Mar, especially to me.”

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Here

“She’s crying.”

In an instant, Mar was wide awake, his senses on high alert. Sitting up, his eyes swiftly scanned the shadow-clad bedroom until they settled on his wife, who was perched on the edge of their bed with her back to him. Guinevere’s head hung low between her quivering shoulders, her fingers digging into the plush material of the mattress as she fought to muffle her sobs. This wasn’t the first time he had found her like this during the hours of the night, no trace of physical harm on her person but her mind and body wracked with unrelenting anguish. The telltale signs were all present: she had had another nightmare and a rather severe one at that given the intensity of her reaction.

His heart aching in his chest, Mar scooted his way across the mattress so he was directly behind her. At first, he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound left his lips as any words his mind drafted up seemed insufficient for providing his beloved cleric the comfort she desperately needed. Moving slowly so as not to spook her and earn himself an elbow to the gut or headbutt to the face, he instead looped his arms around her in a tender embrace. His chest pressed firmly against her back as his head came to rest atop her own, his body enveloping hers like a protective cocoon. He heard his wife’s breathing hitch slightly but she made no efforts to wriggle free; in fact, she seemed to sink deeper into his embrace, as if it was the answer to some unspoken need.

The silence lingered for a few moments longer before Guinevere finally broke it with a faint whisper, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke any louder, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t apologize; you’ve done nothing wrong.” Her husband crooned lovingly as his nose nuzzled against the ginger locks atop her head, “What can I do? What do you need most from me right now?”

The little cleric’s lip trembled dangerously as a fresh wave of emotions came crashing over her, threatening to drown her as more tears streamed down her freckled cheeks. “Just…just hold me.”

Mar needed no further instruction. With a tender hand, he spun her to face him and guided her head to rest against his chest. As his arms snaked back around her to cradle her close, his lips pressed a delicate, reassuring peck to his wife’s temple, and though her grip was almost painfully tight as she returned his embrace, he didn’t wince or grimace. The passage of time faded into obscurity as they huddled together in search of some solace, Mar’s heart wrenching painfully at every shuddering sniffle from Guin. As he witnessed her struggle with no relief seemingly in sight despite his efforts, frustration swirled with sorrow to create a caustic brew in his stomach that ate away at his insides, leaving a deep aching in its wake that eventually grew too great to bear. 

“Guin,” he murmured after lowering his lips to hover near her ear again, “I’m not going to insist that you tell me, but…but I might be able to better ease the pain if I know what you saw. If nothing else, you might feel a little better after letting it all out instead of carrying this all alone. Please dear, talk to me; let me bear this with you.”

Her husband’s reasoning was sound, and his plea to share her pain reminded her with a stirring of her heart of the promise they had made to one another on that day of Baracmordin’s salvation which felt so long ago, the promise to no longer carry their burdens and worries alone, the promise they had faithfully kept thus far. Picking up her head, she peered up until she found those golden eyes that gleamed like beacons in the dark, their light shining brighter than the grandest of stars as they burned with the ferocity of a raging wildfire but also comforting warmth of a hearth’s cozy blaze. In their light and heat, she found the strength she needed to force out the words lodged in her chest, though she still shuddered at their vile taste as they left her tongue.

“I was back in that cell beneath Oxwick…”

At those words alone, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Mar’s chest tightened as memories he had cast into the deepest chasms of his mind began to crawl back into the light,  phantom whiffs of fresh blood tickling his nose while images of Guinevere’s bound and battered body danced tauntingly behind his eyes.

“It was just like I remembered it. One guard was finishing up another bout of torturing me when Dracurn strolled in. He taunted and interrogated me for a while before sneering about how he had taken care of you when you tried to come to my rescue. That’s where things changed. He didn’t show me your hand as proof this time…” Her lip quivering dangerously, Guinevere’s voice broke as a dagger-like pain shot through her chest and fresh tears wetted her eyes. For a moment, the words again stuck fast in her throat as she gasped for air, but after some straining, she choked them out as a barely comprehensible whimper, “He held up your head.”

Shock seemed too subdued of a word to describe what Mar was feeling as he stared unblinkingly at his wife, the intensity of her reaction suddenly making perfect sense as he himself struggled to process what she had just described. As the initial numbness started to ebb away, a mixture of sympathy and anger occupied the vacancy it left in its wake. Try as he might, there were certain afflictions he had no power to stop, and yet as he witnessed the mighty warrior he loved tremble like a fragile blossom tossed about by howling winds, he had to wonder if there was truly no way of preventing these nightmares from robbing Guinevere of her peace of mind. However, such musings were not what was needed now. What his wife needed now was action, something tangible to alleviate her immediate suffering, something that not even her deepest, darkest fears could refute.

The haze clouding his eyes crystallized into piercing clarity. He had an idea. Withdrawing his arms from around his wife, he pressed another reassuring peck against her cheek when she whimpered in distress before swiftly unbuttoning the pajama shirt he was wearing so it hung open. Taking Guinevere’s hands tenderly in his own, Mar guided her palms to rest against his left pectoral, studying her face closely the whole time. Though her brow wrinkled in confusion at first, his wife’s face gradually softened as understanding dawned upon her. Her breath hitched slightly as she focused on the warmth of his skin seeping into hers while his heartbeat thrummed beneath her touch, its tempo steady and strong. They lingered like this for a bit before Mar gradually slid her hands upward, her fingers perceiving every slight twitch and quiver of his muscles as they coasted slowly over his shoulders and his neck before coming to cradle his jaw. Pressing himself into her grasp, Mar kissed her palms and wrists, his breath caressing her skin, before locking eyes with her again, his message unspoken and yet unmistakably clear.

I’m here.

For the first time since she had awoken, the tightness in Guinevere’s chest lessened enough for deep breaths of cool air to finally fill her burning lungs until they no longer stung, and the murk impairing her senses steadily melted away as the corporealness of her surroundings, of her husband safe and sound before her, grounded her back in reality once more. And yet, her battered heart continued to ache as it hung heavy in the pit of her churning gut, each throb forcing back into the forefront of her mind the authentic grief her dream had elicited from her. Reading her residual pain all too clearly in her weary eyes, Mar’s brow furrowed with concern as he lowered his forehead to rest against hers, to which she responded by pressing into him as well.

”Where does it still hurt, Guinedeer?” Mar asked softly, first tapping his finger lightly against her temple followed by tapping her sternum. “Up here or down here?”

Sniffling a little, Guinevere cupped Mar’s hand in one of her own and pressed his palm flat against her chest. “I know you’re here with me…but that dream felt so real. Losing you felt so real. I just can’t get it out of my head…”

“Well, I suppose I just have to distract you with something else then, something you can’t resist-” As his hands trailed down her back before coming to rest on his wife’s hips, an impish sparkle ignited in Mar’s eyes as an idea dawned upon him. “-and I think I know just the thing. I need you to turn around though.”

After a moment of hesitation, Guin somewhat reluctantly spun around as her husband requested only for a streak of heat to shoot up her spine from her belly as she felt his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her nightshirt, hoisting the fabric upward until he had pulled it over her head and discarded it off to the side. 

“Mar? What-” 

Guinevere’s voice swiftly broke off as she felt her husband’s lips press against the lowest point of the large tableau of scars along her back, the feeling familiar and yet still surprising in that moment. There was not a trace of carnal desire behind the touch, only tenderness as his lips trailed along every line and curve of the design seared into her flesh, just as he had done many times before. With each loving caress, the little cleric could feel the tension gradually seeping out of her body, driven out by the warm fuzziness welling up in her core, and as the soothing heat dissolved the parasitic load burdening her heart, she drifted weightlessly on the sensations of bliss her husband’s affection provided. Instead of images of that dark, ominous cell, her mind was now flooded with memories of other times her darling had demonstrated his adoration for her in this way. Flashes of hot, passionate nights of skin pressed against skin intertwined with glimpses of quaint and cozy mornings curled up in one another’s arms beneath the sheets and flickerings of quiet evenings of simply relishing in the rejuvenating comfort of each other’s presence after tiring days. With every caress, another addition to the grand mental collage was called forth, blotting out the nightmare until not even a trace remained.

As he deposited one last loving peck along the uppermost section of her scars, Mar coasted his nose slowly up the back of her neck before sweetly nuzzling just below her ear. His warm breath tickling her skin, he cooed just loud enough for her to hear, “Again?” 

“…Please.”

Mar couldn’t help but smile at the sheepishness and the yearning both intertwined in her voice. Dropping his head back down to the bottom edge of the brand, he once more began peppering kiss after kiss along every inch of the rough sections of her flesh, taking his time to ensure he was thorough in his worship of the love of his life. She always melted for him when he did this, and to his relief, not even the most severe of nightmares seemed to override that instinct. With every caress, he could feel her muscles gradually loosening beneath his touch, the way she softened for him only spurring him on until he had yet again covered her back completely in traces of his affection. 

“Better?” he inquired upon burying his nose in the sensitive skin below her ear once more.

“Better…You missed a spot though.”

“Where?”

Hardly had Mar lifted his eyes to meet Guin’s again when his heart did a series of backflips in his chest. There it was, that sparkle in her eyes that stole his breath away every time without fail. Raising a finger, the dwarf coyly tapped it to her lips, which had finally curved into her beautiful smile again. The flames in his belly surging into an even more brilliant blaze, Mar tenderly seized her lips with his own, their intimate waltz unhurried as they drank in each other’s presence. When they both had had their fill, he eased himself back down onto his side and waited for Guin to do the same before tucking her form into his, her distinct aroma of ceremonial incense and medicinal herbs flooding his nose as he guided her head to nestle against the curvature of his neck. Her heavy eyes already starting to close as her husband’s warmth and familiar berry scent enveloped her, Guinevere slid her fingers lightly over his torso until her palm again found his pulse, her own heart adjusting now to match its soothing tempo, and with a loving smile dancing on his lips, her husband cupped his hand over hers, ensuring it would not waver even as she slumbered.

“Rest, deerest. I will still stay close until you wake.”

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Afterglow

Warm breath and soft kisses trailing over Guinevere’s neck and shoulders gradually coaxed her from her heavy slumber, the golden glow of morning sunlight soon evaporating the fog blanketing her mind. The tender caress of slender fingers gliding over her every curve sent tremors dancing along her nerves until a dull, pleasant buzzing permeated every fiber of her being, and she instinctively tried to snuggle closer to the source of warmth behind her, skin brushing against skin as she nestled her way into a comfortable position.

A low, rumbling chuckle broke the stillness of the air followed by a husky whisper tickling the shell of the little dwarf’s ear, her heart leaping in response, “Good morning, dearest~”

Drawn to the sultry croon of Mar’s voice, Guinevere rolled over towards him, and as her eyes fluttered open, the sight before her left her questioning for a moment if she was still dreaming. Mar’s long, silky tresses spilled free all around him like dark waterfalls as he loomed over her with a seductive smirk, and the soft light of morning painted him in an almost ethereal shimmer that matched the warmth of his eyes. At first, the spellbound cleric could only stare back in awe, and when she eventually reached up to cradle his head in her hands and Mar leaned into her touch, something churned deep inside her as she understood without a doubt that this picturesque scene was very much real. A smile blossoming on her own lips, she carefully guided Mar’s head down towards hers, and as soon as he was within reach, she raised her lips to meet his in a sweet, languid kiss that he happily reciprocated.

“Mmm, I liked that. Can I have another one of those please?” Mar hummed coyly, his lips already inching back towards hers. Upon receiving another smooch, he shot her a sly, pleading look, his hunger clearly not sated, “One more?”

Chuckling, Guinevere playfully showered Mar’s face in affectionate pecks until he swiftly seized her lips with his own again, the touch carrying a bit of heat behind it this time. However, as Guin was gently guided onto her back while he hovered over her, her soft gasp against his lips when his hands started to descend down her body once more made him freeze for a moment.

“This…This is okay right?” he cooed softly, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched her face for the faintest sign of discomfort. “I’m not overstepping, am I?”

Her heart practically melting in her chest, Guin lovingly brushed a few stray locks out of Mar’s face as she smiled up at him. “It’s more than okay. This feels good…and last night felt good too.”

Mouth falling agape, Mar simply stared at her as a scarlet flush crept along his cheeks and snaked its way up to the tips of his ears. Her words conjured mental images of the things they had done under the cover of night, of how they had touched and explored each other in new ways, of the passion that had consumed them both as they embraced each other wholly. However, flustered as he felt, Guinevere’s words resonated with his racing heart; this, what they had, it was good.

“In fact, can your wife make a bit of a selfish request?” Guinevere continued, drawing him from his thoughts, “Can we just…stay here like this for a while? Maybe even the whole day?”

Your wife. Of all the sweet sounds that had tumbled from her lips in the last twenty-four hours, those had to be Mar’s favorite. Leaning in closer, he rested his forehead against hers as his hands lovingly clasped her hips, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Beaming, Guinevere pressed another delicate peck to her husband’s lips before starting to trail a string of appreciative kisses along his jaw and down his neck, rousing a quiet groan of delight from him as he tilted his head back to give her better access. She had done the same thing while they were wrapped up in the throes of passion the night prior, but whereas before her caresses had been fervent and hungry, these were a gentler expression of her adoration even if the deep love fueling them was the same. Feeling one of her hands sliding into the locks at the nape of his neck while the fingers of the other curled around his shoulder to anchor herself, Mar allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he just relished in the moment and focused on each and every sensation he was experiencing. His nose drank in their intermingling scents as his ears honed in on the drumming of his own heart accompanied by the steady puffing of his wife’s breath and the occasional rustle of the sheets. Subconsciously, he squeezed her hips a little tighter, earning another melodious gasp from her that sent flurries of butterflies dancing in his heart and stomach. With a quiet grunt, he flopped down onto his side before rolling onto his back, pulling his wife on top of him as she giggled in the cutest way. 

Opening his eyes once more, Mar glanced down at Guinevere to see her gazing adoringly back at him as she rested her head against his chest. His own lips curving into a soft smile, he deposited another kiss atop her head and started to fondle her curves, her body feeling enchantingly soft beneath his touch.

“Mmmm, that feels nice…” she drawled dreamily, a faint pink blush coloring her cheeks. “Keep that up, would you?”

“How can I say no when you ask so sweetly?” Mar murmured in reply, a devilish twinkle igniting in his eye before he added in a husky whisper, “I’m certainly not going to complain about you wanting me to touch you.”

The noise that escaped Guin’s lips was something between a groan and a squeal as she buried her now scarlet face in her husband’s chest, her voice somewhat muffled as she spoke, “That’s payback for flustering you earlier, isn’t it?”

“Payback? I’m just a man appreciating his wife in all her glory. How she reacts to that is entirely up to her.” Mar crooned coyly, chuckling at the gentle retaliatory swipe the little dwarf aimed at his head. Catching her wrist with ease, he waited until she lifted her eyes to meet his before depositing a kiss on her palm and brushing his cheek against her fingers. “All that matters to me is that she knows how much she is loved, and I’m going to make sure she is reminded of that every day for the rest of our lives.”

Pure tenderness permeated Guinevere’s gaze as she peered up at Mar, and after wiggling her way close enough where she could rest her forehead against his again, her heartfelt whispers danced in his ear. “I love you too, Mar. You’re a dream I once thought too far to reach…but here we are.”

“Here we are,”  Mar echoed softly, lightly nuzzling his wife’s temple with his nose, “and I’ll say it again: there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

His words echoing in her ears as his hands continued to ghost along her form, Guinevere allowed her head to droop down onto her husband’s shoulder as he rested his head atop hers. They weren’t tired. They were content: content to enjoy each other’s presence, content to enjoy this serene moment that they knew in their hearts was only the first of many to come.

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - What Once Was Mine

“This has to work. This has to work because I don’t know what to do if it doesn’t.”

Guinevere had spent so long studying the incantation she could visualize the words and stains from use on the scroll so precisely when she closed her eyes that one would’ve thought the image to be tattooed in her eyelids. The spell itself wasn’t anything new to her; though she couldn’t recall an exact date, she knew she had already encountered and practiced it at some point in her studies as a young disciple. Still, trepidation haunted her mind and heart even as she rehearsed the chant and its accompanying motions both normally and then in reverse for the umpteenth time without a single hiccup. Even if she performed the act as perfectly as mortally possible, her efforts would still be ineffective if this particular spell wasn’t specifically what was required to restore Mar, thus resulting in a disheartened return to the drawing board for who knows how long this time around. She almost couldn’t bear the thought.

Clenching her jaw, Guinevere sharply shook her head as though she could physically throw off the snares of her own spiraling thoughts. She needed to get out of her own head. Mar was there for her when she needed him most; now it was time for her to do the same for him. She would help him. If this particular incantation didn’t work, she would try another one, and if no spell yet existed that could help him, she would study and experiment until she crafted her own. A life as an empty shell of who he once was would not be his fate, especially not after all he had endured and sacrificed. She would find a way to return to him what he had lost; there was no other option.

With a deep, bracing breath, she forced herself to close the tome and return it to the empty space on the bookshelf before heading for the door. As she strode out of the sacred library and passed through the temple entryway to emerge into the open air of Baracmordin, Guinevere’s senses somewhat perceived the familiar and newer faces alike that flitted across her vision, enough for her head automatically inclining in a slight nod of greeting to each before she continued her march forward. She was aware of the sights, sounds, and smells of daily life around her as she trekked down street after street, but she paid her surroundings little mind until her destination rose up into view among the other buildings stationed along one particular side lane of the Golden Walk. The Wander-Inn was already bustling with business, a mixture of regular patrons and traveling merchants clustering around the tables and bar counter of the tavern on the building’s main floor even though it was still the early hours of the afternoon. As the smell of fresh bread and laboriously prepared cuts of meat wafted through the air, Guin’s stomach groaned insistently, keen to remind her of how she had in fact skipped breakfast that morning in her haste to make it back to Helm’s temple to resume her preparations. Even so, Guinevere’s feet did not stray from their path and instead carried her up the nearby set of stairs leading to the first collection of rooms on the next floor, the clamor of the lower level diminishing significantly once she reached the top. Only when she reached the door furthest down the hall where the atmosphere was quietest did she finally come to a halt, staring at the plain oak door as if she half-expected it to magically open on its own even though she knew full well that it wouldn’t. Glancing back the way she had come, she noted that any of the other guests rooming on this floor seemed to either be out or resting, so the likelihood of any interruptions or distractions seemed minimal. She was not, however, going to take any chances.

Her fingers brushing against the smooth metal of her holy amulet, she began to utter not the words she had been studying earlier but another incantation entirely, speaking a bit more slowly to ensure she did not fumble any of the words as this spell was newer to her. She could feel more and more divine magical energy coalescing in the space between her and the door with every syllable that left her lips, and as the last sound sprang from the tip of her tongue, that energy transformed into a flash of brilliant radiance. When she managed to blink away the swarm of little black dots waltzing across her vision, the little cleric craned her neck until her gaze met the serpentine eyes ringed with shimmering scales peering back down at her, the couatl lowering its head slightly upon observing how much the dwarven woman was having to strain to stare up at its face. Though its lips did not so much as quiver, an airy but commanding voice rang clear in Guinevere’s mind.

“What do you require of me?”

“A meager request, one that is likely beneath you but something that I humbly ask nonetheless.” Guinevere answered, analyzing the celestial being’s impassive expression in hopes of discovering the smallest hint of its current disposition but to no avail. “I need to do something that is of utmost importance to me, and any disturbances could jeopardize my success. Please guard this room and allow no one to pass once I’ve entered until I dismiss you.”

The eyes of the divine feathered serpent narrowed slightly, and after a moment of silence, the little cleric sensed a magical presence lapping at the edges of her mind, seeking entry. With a shaky breath, she relinquished herself to the couatl’s inspection, shuddering a bit at the unsettling sensation of it probing through her thoughts with utmost scrutiny. She was all too relieved when the celestial beast’s presence eventually receded from her mind, and as she met its gaze once more, she could’ve sworn she glimpsed something like sympathy briefly flicker in its eyes.

“Go. I shall do as you have asked.”

As the couatl slithered past and neatly coiled itself up in the space directly behind her, Guinevere unlocked the door and slipped into the room, eyes already scanning her surroundings for any sign of her fiancé. It didn’t take her long to locate Mar perched on the edge of the bed, staring down at something in his lap, and when she drew closer, she realized he was holding the journal again, the same one she had snooped through that day in the healer’s home. She couldn’t recall the last time she had seen him actually take it out, much less write in it as she assumed he was doing based upon the stub of charcoal pinched between his thumb and forefinger. However, the currently exposed page of the book was blank save for a couple scattered scribbles, seemingly serving to blot out whatever was written beneath them. As she drew nearer, Guinevere observed her fiancé’s ears twitch ever so slightly in response to her footsteps, a sign that he was at least aware of her presence, but he did not raise his head or even glance in her direction instead continuing to frown down at the journal while lost within his own thoughts. Once he was within arm’s reach, the little cleric gently clasped his wrist, and while she was thankful that he didn’t try to pull away, her heart longed for his fingers to even just brush against hers in the subtlest sign of loving acknowledgment. She knew it wasn’t his fault, that he was not himself, but that didn’t completely dispel the heartache of him hardly reacting to her touch at all.

“I’ve upset you again.”

Mar’s attention had finally shifted from the journal to her instead, and as their gazes met, Guinevere’s heart gave another painful twinge. Though his eyes still gleamed like refined gold, the warmth they once held and that her heart desperately craved, reminiscent of basking in the afternoon sun, was nowhere to be found. All that remained in its place was a cold light that chilled her own soul. It hurt to hold his gaze and yet she refused to look away, yearning to grasp hold of whatever remaining threads of him that she could before they slipped from her grasp forever.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?”

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Mar repeated dully, his face expressive as stone. “Why are you putting yourself through this? You don’t deserve to suffer like this.”

“Neither do you. I promised I was going to help you, and that’s what I plan to do.”

“But at what cost-“

“Whatever it takes, and don’t you dare try to say that you’re not worth it because you are.”

Mar’s brows rose slightly at the sharp edge to her tone before pinching together as he tried to understand, tried to force himself to comprehend the emotions swirling in her eyes and behind her words even if his own heart was no more than dead weight hanging in his chest at  the moment. “You could have someone else, someone better, someone whole-“

“I don’t want someone else. I want you.” 

Mar knew that proclamation should’ve made him feel some way, but not even a faint flutter stirred within him, his chest feeling cold and empty as it had for more days than he cared to count now. However, though her words themselves may not have had any affect on him, the blaze burning in her eyes was another story. The longer he stared into the roaring flames, the stronger something inside him yearned to reach them, to feel their warmth for a moment even if it meant he would burn in the process. Perhaps he wanted to burn. Perhaps to burn would be to reignite what was still dead inside him.

“You’re back from the temple early today…” he pivoted rather clumsily, shutting the journal and setting it along with the charcoal stub on the bedside table with his free hand before shifting his attention back to the cleric. “I assume that means you’ve finished brushing up on that spell you mentioned?”

“I’ve done…everything I can.” Guinevere answered, her grip on Mar’s wrist tightening a bit as she fought to block out the doubts that threatened to drag her mind back into their shadowy embrace. If this spell wasn’t enough, then there was some other solution out there. She had to have faith in that. “Whatever the result, we’ll figure things out from there.”

Climbing up onto the bed, Guinevere scooted her way to the center of the mattress and waited for Mar to follow suit. As soon as he was seated in front of her, the little cleric carefully cradled the wrist of his symbiotic arm in one hand while the other lightly brushed aside his unruly bangs, making way for her fingers to rest delicately against his forehead. 

“Helm, please do not forsake your faithful. Let us bring back what has been lost.”

With that final plea, Guinevere began to softly utter the incantation she had inscribed in her memory while she traced invisible runes against Mar’s flesh. The same buzz of divine magic coursing through the fibers of her being swept through her once more, the energy gradually pooling in her glowing fingertips. Power and anticipation swelled with every word until the utterance of the spell’s final syllable released the magic, sending it surging into the druid. 

For Mar, the next few seconds were akin to being struck by a tidal wave. All the air was forcefully expelled from his lungs in the form of a strangled gasp as emptiness was transformed into overflow, his body shaking uncontrollably from the building pressure that grew more painful by the second. His head throbbed, his chest burned, his stomach clenched so violently he felt ready to hurl. Through the howling chaos, he barely registered the small but strong hands which seized hold of him while Guinevere’s sweet, familiar voice fought to be heard among the many other thoughts and emotions all screaming for attention, her words incomprehensible amid the collective noise crescendoing to a deafening volume. He tried to hone in on the sensation of her touch, on the strength of her grip, but just as she came into focus within his mind’s eye, the swirling storm inside him snatched him away, dragging him back into its depth where he could not tell up from down or light from darkness. He wanted to scream, but no sound left his lips. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. It was too much. He was going to tear apart at the seams.

Then, like a single beam of sunlight forcing its way through dark clouds, he felt it; he felt her. His body was pulled against something small, soft, and warm and his head was guided downward until it came to rest in a comfortable little nook, a soothing scent with a variety of notes he recognized but couldn’t name in that moment filling his nose. He sensed something lovingly caress his temple before coming to rest against the shell of his ear, and with far more piercing clarity than before, Guinevere’s voice rang clear in his mind.

“Mar, stop trying to hold it in. Let it flow.”

Somehow, the druid finally willed his tongue to work, albeit barely managing to choke out comprehensible words between frantic gasps for air. “I-I can’t…I’ll sh-shatter.”

“Then shatter, and we’ll pick up the pieces together after.”

There was no doubt in her voice, no hesitation, no distaste. Her words carried only pure love and determination, a promise of sanctuary in his hour of vulnerability. Her arms, her embrace, would be a fortress around him as he broke; he would break but she would not let him be destroyed. 

In that moment, he broke and the storm tore through him.

Each and every one of Mar’s gut-wrenching sobs into her shoulder was a brutal stab to Guinevere’s heart, hot tears stinging her eyes as her frustration at her inability to offer her love more relief intermingled with her seething anger at those responsible for reducing him to this state. His fingers whose gentle touch she had longed for only moments ago now dug into her with such force it would surely bruise, indentations forming where his nails threatened to pierce her skin, but she did not wince or try to wiggle away. The harder he sobbed, the tighter she held him, an anchor to tether him down so he would not be swept away. However, even amid the agony and turmoil, wisps of relief were already seeping into the fissures in her heart, nursing the wounds that had ached for so long. What was lost and been found, and over time, what was broken could eventually mend.

 Eventually, after what felt like eternity, his sobs quieted to whimpers and the rivers of tears along his cheeks became trickles, though his aching head remained nestled against her. When he finally spoke, his voice rang low and raw, tremors interlaced with every other syllable. “I died, Guin… I died and then this thing brought me back but took part of me away…I wasn’t myself…and I hurt you…Guin, I hurt you…I’m so sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for. None of this was your fault.” Guinevere protested firmly, her fingers instinctively carding through his locks in slow, soothing strokes.

“But what if it happens again? What if something else-”

“Then I will scour the Heavens, the Hells, and everything in between to bring you back. If you are taken from me, I will find you again. If you break, I’ll help you pick up the pieces. If you lose your way, I’ll bring you back. This is my oath to you.”

For the first time in far too long, a pleasant, buzzing warmth ignited in Mar’s chest, its heat slowly and steadily snaking outwards to permeate every fiber of his being. Though it still throbbed and ached, he raised his head just enough to press his forehead against Guin’s, his gaze finding hers. Though his eyes were still quite puffy from crying, Guin’s heart leaped as she finally glimpsed the familiar shine of glowing warmth that they had lacked for so long, and Mar in turn felt his own heart stir as he gazed into beautiful shining silver than gleamed like the cleansing radiance of moonlight.

“That almost sounded like a wedding vow…” he murmured, his stare never wavering from her as they drank one another in like rain after a drought. At the back of his tongue, a coy quip danced, an opportunity to disrupt the vulnerable moment in favor of familiar cover, but he swallowed the words. As much as he hurt, he welcomed this pain, this pain that filled the emptiness and this pain that could be transformed over time into something else by Guinevere’s embrace.

“You look exhausted.” Guinevere observed, making note of the heavy bags that had formed under Mar’s eyes. “You should rest-”

“No.” A flicker of cold fear stealing up his spine, Mar tightened his grip on the little cleric as his breathing hitched. However, before the chill could take root, the loving caress of Guinevere’s palm cradling his head dispersed it with ease.

“I’ll stay with you the whole time.” she crooned sweetly, already guiding them both onto their sides on the soft mattress. “Nothing will happen to you, Mar. I’ll make sure of it.”

His body feeling heavier by the second, Mar used what little strength he had left to pull Guin as close to him as possible before his eyes finally fluttered shut, settling not into the cold oblivion his soulless self had yearned for but instead into comforting stillness tinged with Guinevere’s warmth and scent.

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Sweet Temptations

“The smell is spot on…and the taste is pretty accurate…but that’s according to my standards…The difference might be noticeable enough for him not to like it…This was a stupid idea, wasn’t it? What was I thinking?”

It all had seemed like a good idea earlier that day when Guinevere purchased the lip gloss from the visiting merchant near the Wander-Inn. However, as she now peered into the mirror at her reflection and inspected the shimmering, pinkish red gloss gleaming on her lips, she couldn’t help but feel rather ridiculous. The issue wasn’t the color clashing with her skin tone or the amount of sparkle being too over the top where she looked gaudy. The issue was her currently behaving like—no, her being a lovestruck fool fussing over something as insignificant as overpriced cosmetics because of the reaction it might garner from a certain elf who had her heartstrings coiled around his finger.

“Just take it off now before anyone else sees. No one will ever know.” 

Even as these words echoed through her mind, Guinevere hesitated while reaching for the small towel sitting on the corner of the dressing table, the fabric just beyond the reach of her fingertips. Glancing back at her reflection once more, she carefully examined her appearance yet again, taking note of how the lipgloss accented the rosy undertones of her cheeks and the subtle shimmer of the glitter matched the bright sheen of her eyes when they caught the sunlight just right. It was a deviation from her usual look, that was true, but the longer she observed her mirrored self in the glass, the more her initial discomfort with the change began to fade, a growing appreciation starting to well up in its place.

“I suppose it does look kinda nice…I mean, I don’t have to wear it just because of the reaction it gets from Mar…and why is it wrong to want that anyways? Why is it silly or dumb to hope he’ll find this enticing? Isn’t it normal to want to make your partner feel happy and known, to feel understood down to even the smallest details that only someone paying close attention would notice? Then again, maybe being known so intimately by someone else is exactly what bothers people-“

Guin’s breathing hitched sharply and her body instinctively stiffened, her train of thought abruptly shattered as her focus shifted to the pair of arms slithering their way around her middle. Despite her gaze having never left the mirror, she only just now perceived the pair of golden eyes framed by curtains of dark hair twinkling at her in the glass. 

“You know, you should really start bolting your bedroom window, Guinedeer. You never know what weirdos might try to sneak in while your guard is down.” Mar purred while lightly nuzzling into the ginger locks of her crown. “Now, how about you tell me what’s troubling you enough that you completely missed the six or seven squeaky floorboards I stepped on while creeping up on you, hmm?”

Her body operating faster than her mind, Guinevere’s eyes instinctively flickered to the tube of lipgloss perched innocently on the top of her vanity, realizing her mistake a little too late as Mar’s gaze followed hers. Her fingers hardly had time to twitch in the bottle’s direction before Mar leaned over and snatched up the small vial, and as he raised it to his face to inspect it more closely, his nose scrunched slightly at the faint scent of berries wafting off of it. It only took a few moments for that knowing sparkle to first ignite in his gilded eyes, which shifted back to the little cleric who felt as though her lungs were filling with lead rather than air. Circling around so he was now beside her, Mar tenderly tucked his index finger beneath Guinevere’s chin and guided her face upwards, the gleam in his eyes brightening as the same berry scent intermingled with her shallow breaths and the familiar rosy hue and sparkle of the gloss glistened on her lips.

There was no way she was getting out of this now.

“Seems that someone has been scheming,” the elven druid crooned tauntingly, greedily drinking in the gradually darkening flush that was staining Guinevere’s skin the same hue as her painted lips. “You know, there are much simpler ways to get me to kiss you.”

“Well maybe I wanted to try being cute and endearing for a change.” Guin huffed defensively, her bottom lip puckering in a defiant pout she knew full well wasn’t going to fool Mar anyways. Not trusting her nerves to hold for long against his scrutiny, she swiveled her head sharply to one side in hopes of pulling free from the druid’s grasp. However, the elf’s nimble fingers seized her chin again with ease, guiding her face to meet his once more as he lowered his head enough for his nose to lightly brush against hers.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to complain about you trying to do something special for me. There’s something you should know though, deerest.”

The way that nickname rolled so sensuously off of his tongue sent a shiver slithering down Guinevere’s spine, and in that moment, her facade wavered long enough for Mar to glimpse the shy, nervous, hopeful girl waiting with bated breath beneath, anxious to see what he was going to do. His heart stirring in his chest at the sight, the impish glee in his face softened to a sweeter, gentler adoration, though the mischievous flame in his eyes continued to burn bright. Inching closer still until there was little more than a sliver of space between them, the elf’s voice dropped to a low murmur, the deeper pitch resulting in a minute yet alluring huskiness when he spoke. 

“You’re already cute, endearing, and so much more without even trying. Anything else you do is just an added bonus.”

His words ringing in her ears, Guin didn’t even have time to start formulating a comeback before Mar tenderly seized her lips in his own, a delighted hum rumbling in the back of his throat as the sweet yet subtle tartness of ripe berries flooded onto his tongue. As his hand cradling her chin slid back into her hair, the other deposited the vial of lipgloss back onto the counter before falling to rest on her hip, giving the soft flesh a loving squeeze. Her lips swiftly falling into a steady rhythm with his while both of their thundering hearts provided the tempo, Guinevere’s small but strong hands wandered over Mar’s form until one settled against his cheek and the other pressed into his upper back. Though slow and gentle at first, their caresses gradually grew more fervent and hungry, the heat between them building and their grips on each other tightening. They could feel the slight stickiness of the lipgloss smearing along their skin as their movements became more chaotic and desperate, but neither of them cared. Only the need for shallow gulps of air could briefly separate their lips before they dove right back into their dance, each second they spent engrossed in one another only heightening their yearning rather than satiating it. It wasn’t until Guin, caught up in the haze of the moment, leaned back only to slip off her small vanity bench and narrowly avoid hitting the floor before Mar caught her that the two regained some semblance of their wits. His eyes drinking in the sight of the little dwarf with flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, and smudged lipgloss, Mar couldn’t help but chuckle, sending Guinevere’s heart into another fit of fluttering.

“Is that the reaction you were hoping for, Guinedeer?”

Fresh heat flooding into her face, Guinevere tucked her head against Mar’s chest as it shook with soft laughter. However, as the pleasant fog shrouding her mind began to settle a bit, an inkling of something began to stir at the back of her mind, though she still couldn’t quite make out what it was through the murk. Yet just as her brow was wrinkling in concentration, trying to draw into focus whatever was lingering just outside of her consciousness, the nuzzling of Mar’s nose against her cheek sharply severed her train of thought, the obscured blip swiftly vanishing back into the darkness of the recesses of her mind.

“So, I’m guessing you approve then?” She mumbled whilst shooting a shy glance back at the elf.

“Mmm, it is quite nice, but I think I need another taste before I can say anything for sure.”

Unable to suppress the smile stretching across her face, Guinevere raised her head enough for Mar to capture her lips once more, his touch reigniting the flames in her belly almost instantly. Her arms looping around his neck to hold herself steady, Guinevere allows her body to relax again, any unease swiftly dissipating as pleasure swept over her once more.

Whatever it was that she had forgotten surely couldn’t have been that important, right?

————

When the jangling of the bell perched above the cafe door rang out overtop of the hum of the cafe, Nebirose half-expected to see only a few random civilians wandering in as had happened the last several times the door had swung open. However, as he observed the two figures he had been waiting on for over an hour come strolling in with lovestruck smiles framed by haphazard smears of some pink, sparkling substance on their faces, his lips curled back in a mixture of annoyance and pure disgust. “You’ve got to be shitting me…”

(Art by my friend raineorshine on IG)

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Forged in Fire

He hated this. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. Mar understood the reasoning. He understood that it was something Guinevere felt she needed to do as part of her own personal healing. However, he hated that it would involve her being in pain again, a pain his magic or own strength couldn’t take from her. He hated that through the brave mask she had donned, he still observed glimmers of fear flickering across her features as she glanced at the large metal rod currently being heated to glowing hot in the heart of a brilliant blaze. He hated the faraway look in her eyes as memories of what she had suffered in that cell at the hands of Dracurn and his underlings replayed in the back of her mind. She deserved nothing less than an extended vacation to recover from everything she had gone through, not this. It just wasn’t fair.

Pursing his lips, Mar stepped a little closer to his dwarf girlfriend and gently cupped the side of her face in one of his slender hands. The sensation of his palm pressing against her cheek seemingly prying her free from the depths of her own thoughts, Guinevere’s gaze flitted from the branding iron to meet Mar’s instead as he tenderly guided her head up to look at him.

“You have to speak up if it becomes too much. Don’t just suck it up and endure.” His words were firm as his golden eyes pierced all the way to her soul, determined to locate even the tiniest inkling of distress should it arise. “You just say a word and this whole thing comes to a stop, alright?”

While the anxious glimmer in her eyes did not fade completely, its sheen dulled somewhat as the corners of Guinevere’s lips curled upwards slightly in a tender smile. Leaning further into the gentle caress of her lover’s hand, she relished in the comfort provided by his touch for a few quiet moments. As she pressed an appreciative kiss to his wrist, she could feel the speedy thrumming of his heart racing much like her own, although she detected a faint slowing of its rhythm at the touch of her lips. 

“I need to try and hold out if I can, but I promise not to be a stubborn idiot,” she joked in reply, earning herself the satisfying sight of Mar’s eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled. Her own heart stirring a bit despite the tightness in her chest, she added in a softer, shyer murmur, “Thank you for coming with me. This is still going to be horrible, even if I need to do it. Having you here with me though…it somehow feels more bearable.”

His heart guiding his movements, Mar dropped to one knee, bringing him closer to Guinevere’s level, before resting his forehead against her own. “I said it once and I’ll say it again: your burdens are no longer yours to bear alone. Every worry, every fear, every pain, we face it together. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll be by your side.”

The words had hardly left his tongue before Guinevere’s lips captured his own, her arms finding their way around his neck to pull him a bit closer.  As the contact sent a potent but not unpleasant jolt coursing through him, Mar could decipher many things lingering behind the kiss: a search for further comfort, a gesture of adoration and thanks. His heart hammering, he welcomed it all without hesitation, his hand slipping from Guinevere’s cheek to cradle the back of her head where his fingers wove their way into her ginger waves. For a few moments, the world around them ceased to matter as they were enveloped in the solace of one another’s presence, their hearts, bodies, and minds operating in perfect sync with one another despite neither of them uttering a word, and even as they eventually pulled apart on their own, their senses still buzzed pleasantly with residual energy.

“Guinedeer, making out in a temple? How scandalous,” Mar teased her lightly as their faces still hovered mere millimeters apart. “Perhaps I am being a bad influence on you.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Guinevere purred in reply. However, her content smile faltered as a flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye, prompting her to turn to her toward one of her fellow clerics as he awkwardly shifted his weight nearby.

“The preparations are complete. We can begin when you are ready.”

A part of Guinevere almost scoffed at the choice of words, her skin already crawling at the mere thought of the branding iron’s scalding touch. She didn’t even notice her muscles instinctively tensing again until Mar pulled her a little closer, his embrace protective but not restrictive. It was so tempting to just bury her face in his chest, to ask him to whisk her away and not look back. However, she slowly untangled herself from the snug security of his arms with a heavy sigh, and Mar’s keen eye detected the slightest shudder along her strong shoulders as she turned her back to him.

“Mar,” she called over her shoulder, her voice unusually quiet, “would you…help me tie up my hair please?”

His heart sinking at the sombering of her demeanor, Mar slid his slender fingers back into her hair once more, carefully combing the strands up and out of the way. After he finished securing her locks into place with the pins and clips she handed to him, his attention dropped to her back which was left exposed to the open air by the backless halter top she currently wore. As his gaze drifted to the spot where the jagged scar shaped like a five-headed dragon disfigured her otherwise soft, freckle-spattered skin, his lip curled back in disgust and an angry flame burned bright behind his eyes.

“Mar?” Guinevere called curiously over her shoulder again when he went still, and her breathing hitched slightly as he rested his forehead against her back, “What are you-”

“I’m not really familiar with how all of this works, but if you can hear me right now—you can’t have her, you dragon bitch. Not now, not ever.” 

Guinevere’s eyes went wide as his words echoed in her ear, sending her heart into a wild flurry of ecstatic flutters while a vibrant flush rosied her fair cheeks. After futilely racking her brain for the words to best articulate how her soul was stirring in that moment, she waited until Mar’s hands dropped back to his sides before firmly clasping one of his hands in her own, their fingers seamlessly interweaving like puzzle pieces, and her heart gave another tremor as he squeezed her hand in return.

Her nerves steeled, the cleric marched toward the table set up near the roaring furnace with Mar in tow, her head held a little higher now. Once she hoisted herself up and laid down on her stomach, Mar plopped himself down onto the cushion that had been set up for him near her head. As the other clerics ceased scurrying about around them and a tense silence overtook the room, he scooped up her other hand as well and deposited another kiss atop her head, her curls tickling his nose.

“We’ll be as quick as we can,” the cleric seemingly in charge of the procedure stated as he approached, his kind eyes, slightly wrinkled features, and soft smile all full of sympathy. Motioning a few of the other clerics over, he placed a hand on Guinevere’s shoulder. “Try your best not to move.”

The hiss of hot metal meeting flesh intermingled with Guinevere’s muffled cry of pain that escaped from behind pursed lips and clenched teeth, her entire body going rigid as pain flooded her senses. Squeezing her eyes shut as they welled with warm, fresh tears, Guinevere choked out labored breath after labored breath, her stomach churning at the putrid stench of burning skin assaulted her nose. Her hands shook as they clamped down on Mar’s, her grip painfully tight, and it took all of the elf’s restraint not to shove the other clerics away and snatch his beloved back up into his arms, his heart wrenching in his chest with each painfully long second that passed.

And then it was over. The tension in Guinevere’s muscles released as the agony radiating from her back lessened to a throbbing sting, but amid the pain, she could sense something else: a familiar warmth that she had sorely missed. With Mar’s gentle hands guiding her, she sat up so her legs dangled over the edge of the table, and with her eyes still closed as her breathing began to even out again, she focused all over attention on that warmth, reaching for it with all the strength she could muster. In an instant, the little beacon swelled up into a monstrous wave, and she gasped as the feeling washed over her until it permeated every fiber of her being

“Guin? Guin, what is it?!” Mar cried in alarm as he cradled her face, a million thoughts racing through his mind as he searched her features for any hint to what she was thinking.

Her eyes finally fluttering open, Guinevere glanced down at her palms resting idly in her lap. Unfurling her fingers, she uttered the words she knew by heart and watched as a brilliant glow began to emanate from her palms rather than the dull flicker that she had manifested each time she tried to cast a spell after being branded with Tiamat’s mark. At the sight of the shining light, Mar’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell slightly agape.

 “Your magic…” he breathed as he reached for her hand, the warm energy seeping into his fingers as he ran them over her palm.

“It’s back,” Guinevere whispered, still not quite believing it. 

“It’s back,” Mar echoed, a smile stretching across his face as he kissed Guinevere’s forehead. 

Unable to contain her joy, Guinevere threw her arms around Mar, who happily returned the gesture while also being careful not to touch the fresh wound on her back. As she snuggled against him, his eyes examined the new design displayed on her skin, the mark of Tiamat now looking quite small compared to the gauntlet of Helm reaching up to crush it, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he admired it. Now, instead of a mark of shame and defeat, she bore a testament not only to her god’s strength but to her own strength as well. She had endured and she bore the proof. 

“How does it look?” Guinevere asked, her head now resting on his shoulder.

Leaning down so his warm breath tickled her ear, he coyly murmured, “Badass—and kinda sexy too.”

Blushing profusely, the little cleric hid her face in the crook of Mar’s neck but not before he glimpsed the beautiful smile she wore. 

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - Perfect

“Well they’re…something.” 

The words of the kindly blacksmith echoed in Guinevere’s mind now as she gazed unblinkingly into the campfire, a slight wrinkle in her brow as she absentmindedly rubbed her holy amulet between her thumb and forefinger. The peculiar nature of the comment hadn’t bothered her in the slightest only days earlier when she had rented some time in the forge of a local town while her and Mar were passing through. However, the euphoric rush she’d first felt for her “accomplishment” had now long since dwindled, leaving a vacancy for the doubtful whispers that bubbled up from the darkest recesses of her mind. Perhaps the blacksmith’s restraint had been intended as a gesture of kindness, and yet the patronizing behavior only served as a catalyst now for the what-ifs that swirled about faster and faster in Guinevere’s mind, sucking her deeper into her own thoughts while she could only stare unseeingly at the flames before her. It wasn’t until a pair of arms coiled around her middle that she was jolted back to her senses, the warmth of the campfire toasting her cheeks as she was pulled gently back into a snug embrace. Craning her head back, she was greeted by the face that always set her heart aflutter, lips curved in a pensive frown as he peered at the flames.

“So…why are we glaring at the campfire? What did it do?” Mar hummed, shifting his gaze from the crackling fire to admire her instead as the light made his eyes sparkle in an almost hypnotic way.

It took a few moments for Guinevere’s stalling brain to process what he had said, but sweet giggles eventually bubbled from her lips as the words finally registered. The melodic sound immediately caused Mar’s frown to give way to the pleased grin that had been hiding below the surface all along.

“That’s better.” he purred as he lowered his head slightly to lovingly nuzzle his nose against Guinevere’s temple, earning himself even more rewarding chuckles from her. “Now this is the part where you tell me what’s bothering you so we can fix it together.”

Though some of the heaviness weighing her down had dispersed, Guinevere’s small smile did waver at that thought. However, hardly had she glanced shyly away before Mar gently grasped her chin and guided her face towards his, forcing her to look up at him. 

“Guinedeer, let me help~” His voice was playful but soft as he drank in the way the rosy hue flooding the little cleric’s cheeks enhanced the sparkle of her eyes.

Guinevere knew trying to resist was pointless; whether it was now or later, her heart would eventually succumb to the sway of Mar’s charms as it always did. Sighing in surrender, she jerked her head in the direction of her backpack, which was sitting innocently nearby along with the rest of her adventuring gear. Raising a curious eyebrow, Mar languidly reached over and snatched the bag with ease, dragging it towards them. As he watched, Guinevere started rifling through one of the side pockets, her heart thundering in her ears as her nerves buzzed. Eventually, her fingers brushed against what she was looking for, and she carefully fished out the small cloth bundle, its contents clinking faintly inside with even the slightest movement. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she took one of Mar’s hands in her own and deposited the little bag in his open palm, much to his surprise.

“This is what you’re so worried about?” Mar’s expression softened to a more tender but equally lovestruck smile. “Why?”

“Because…”

“Because?”

Guinevere stared down at the bundle in Mar’s palm, nervously wringing her hands as her stomach twisted itself into intricate knots. “Because…I’m the one that made it.”

Mar’s eyes went wide, realization washing over him as the little package seemed to almost instantaneously grow heavier in his grasp. “You…made something? For me?”

Guinevere nodded, and her breathing hitched at the unexpected sensation of Mar’s lips pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. Glancing back up at him as he pulled away, she noticed his cheeks were now tinged red much like her own. 

“Thank you. You don’t need to worry; I’m going to love it.” 

The urge to caution him against what seemed to her like such a bold claim bubbled in the back of Guinevere’s throat, and yet something within her led her to bite her tongue. Meanwhile, Mar carefully tugged at the knot of the bundle until it came loose, his own heart racing now as the fabric fell away to reveal what was hidden within. Nestled among the folds of the soft cloth were six golden bands arranged into two sets of three, and delicate-looking gold chains dangled between the rings in each set, connecting them together. While at first glance the design looked smooth and elegant, small imperfections began to appear upon closer inspection, such as a misshapen link in one of the chains or a small, flat section in the curvature of one of the rings. Mar, however, could only stare at the jewelry in awe, his fingers ghosting over the metal as it twinkled back up at him.

“They’re ornaments for your horns.” Guinevere mumbled, speaking somewhat slowly as she meticulously selected her words all while struggling to remain calm amid the wild fluttering an army of butterflies in her chest. “Your horns…Your horns are part of you. They are one of the pieces that make you who are, and they are special and…and beautiful. That beauty might be lost on the narrow-minded, but…but you shouldn’t have to walk around with your head hung low because of their ignorance. Every part of you deserves to be embraced and celebrated, and this…this is me promising to always love all of you, no matter what-”

The little cleric’s voice tapered off as her gaze met Mar’s again, her chest tightening as the air was stolen from her lungs. The smile having disappeared from his lips, several different emotions now danced across his features, each intermingling so seamlessly with the others that they were near indistinguishable. She saw pain, longing, and fear but also relief, joy, and adoration, and though something inside her cried out for him, she found herself frozen in place, her muscles refusing to budge as she remained locked in that moment. It wasn’t until the corners of Mar’s lips once again curved upwards into a lovestruck grin that the icy dread in her core and the aching in her chest began to subside a little.

“I think…I think you just made me fall in love with you all over again.” he cooed bashfully, his head tilting slightly to one side in an almost puppy-like manner.

Though she didn’t make a sound, a shrill screeching echoed from the deepest depths of Guinevere’s mind, body, and soul as her face flushed to a shade of scarlet that left her resembling a fire genasi. And yet, a seed of doubt still lingered in the pit of her stomach, draining away the fuzzy warmth she felt as quickly as it welled up inside her. Unaware of Mar’s keen eyes studying even the most subtle of changes on her face, she opened her mouth to speak only for him to swiftly cut her off, his voice warm but firm.

“Don’t. You’re not belittling or discrediting your hard work.” Reaching out his free hand, he clasped one of hers and lovingly dragged his thumb over the back of it. “These are perfect exactly how you made them. Your hands and heart carefully crafted every detail and I wouldn’t change a single thing about them. You know what else I love about them?”

Guinevere’s brow furrowed, “What?”

A flicker of mischief flitted across Mar’s face. “That these ornaments are your special way of telling me you like me better horny.”

“M-M-M-MAR!”

Mar’s melodic laughter intermingled with Guinevere’s flustered groaning as she attempted to pull free from his grasp, but just as she managed to slip loose, the elf tucked his free hand beneath her chin, lifting her face so he could study it once more in the firelight.

“That’s much better.” He murmured, his eyes attentively surveying her features. “There was still a little gloom obscuring that pretty face of yours, but it looks like I finally managed to drive it away.”

And Mar was right. Whether it had been his teasing remark, his tender touch, or his patient reassurance, the sense of dread hanging over Guinevere had finally dispersed, allowing her body to relax as the comfort and warmth of the moment finally enveloped her in its tender embrace. Just as a soft smile graced her lips, the cleric’s eyes drifted up to Mar’s horns and then down to the rings before returning to his face.

“May I?”

Though his heart gave an anxious flutter, Mar lowered his head a little as Guinevere carefully plucked the sets of rings from his palm. His breathing instinctively hitched when her fingers first delicately brushed along one of his antlers, brief glimpses of memories long past flashing across the back of his mind, but he did not pull away. Handling his horns with the tenderest of care, Guinevere carefully slipped one of the sets of rings onto the nodes of his right horn before repeating the process with the other set on the left horn, all the while remaining acutely aware of Mar’s breathing and body language as she worked. Once the last ring was securely in place, she slowly and lovingly dragged her fingers down his horns one more time, admiring every little thing about them from their curvature to their faint sheen. Continuing to slide her fingers downwards, she maneuvered them through his hair and down the sides of his face until she was gently cradling his head in her hands, and to her delight, a serene sigh puffed from Mar’s lips as he leaned into her touch. 

“You okay?” she asked softly.

Mar nodded before lifting his eyes to meet hers again, the tenderness in his gaze saying more than words ever could. After a moment, he raised his hands to cup her face as well and started to guide her head downward, which Guinevere did not resist. When their lips met, the kiss was soft and soothing, like basking in the golden sunlight of a temperate summer’s day, and even when they parted, the tranquility of the moment lingered on as they rested their foreheads against one another.

“I love you.” Though Mar’s voice was barely above a whisper, his words rang loud and clear in Guinevere’s ears over the crackling of the fire and the steady drumming of her own heart.

“I love you too.”

[theavengerfairy]

Wild and Divine - As It Should Be

It wasn’t supposed to be like this; something was off. The scrunching of Guinevere’s brow, the way her bottom lip puckered in a pout, should've sparked the pleasant warmth of affection and amusement in Mar’s very core. However, to his confusion, a prominent aching wracked his chest instead as he gazed at her now, an aching that stung far worse than any of the slashes and scrapes he had just received in battle. Forced to remain sitting still as the little dwarf before him firmly cupped his head in her glowing hands, he allowed his gaze to wander about her face while he continued to ponder the panging inside him that her divine magic wasn’t washing away. As soon as his eyes flitted to hers though, the air was yanked from his lungs as the answer clarified in his mind, crystal clear as the tears that he observed sparkling in the corners of those beautiful gray eyes. 

“Guindeer-”

“Don’t.” Guinevere retorted curtly, forcing herself to avoid meeting Mar’s gaze. “Just…just let me be mad at you for a few minutes before you speak in that honey-like way of yours and I lose my nerve.”

Perhaps another would’ve missed the ever so faint quiver in her voice, but with Mar, it didn’t go unnoticed. His own brows knitting together, he gently placed one of his hands over hers before pressing his cheek deeper into her soft palm, causing Guinevere’s breathing to hitch sharply. Against her better judgment, she finally lowered her stare from the spot on Mar’s forehead she had forced herself to fixate on for the past few minutes, and when her eyes met his, a tremor rippled through her body as the roiling storm of emotions inside her threatened to burst forth. Not a word passed between them, and yet silently studying one another perhaps told them more than words could in that moment.

“Guin-”

Again, the words spilling from Mar’s lips were swiftly cut short as Guinevere stepped closer while simultaneously pulling him towards her. Carefully avoiding his horns, the dwarf pressed her face into the soft, dark tresses at the top of his head while her arms slithered around him, cradling him close to her. When she spoke again, her voice was a barely audible whimper, the tremor to it unmistakeable now.

“I know…I know you’re strong. I know you can handle yourself, and I know you can’t promise that you won’t put yourself in a dangerous situation ever again…” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering shut as the hot tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. “I just…It still scares me, Mar…I know you try to distance yourself from the rest of the party because you don’t want us caught in the range of your spells…but that leaves you isolated with no one watching your back…”

“Does it though?” Mar answered softly, the purr of his voice soft and soothing as his arms circled around her middle. “To know I’m usually by myself when we’re fighting, you would have to be watching me, right? That means someone is looking out for me, even if it’s from a distance.”

“And what if I can’t close that distance fast enough when it really counts? What if I can’t…I can’t…” Guinevere sniffled, squeezing him a little tighter. “I already failed once, Mar. I couldn’t save one of us…What if the one I can’t save next time is you?”

“How do you know there will be a next time? You're getting stuck in your head again.” Sitting up straight once more, Mar gently grasped Guinevere’s cheek in one hand and, with a soft smirk, lightly rapped on her forehead with the other hand. “Hello? Guindeer? Can you come back out here please? You know how you get if you stay in there too long.”

When the sweet song of laughter he hoped for still refused to bubble up from the little cleric, Mar's smile faltered, his heart cracking a bit as it sank. After pondering for a moment, he eventually rested his forehead against her own, dropping his voice down to a whisper that her ears alone would be able to hear. “You’re grieving like you’ve already lost me, but I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere and I don’t plan to. I’m here, Guin.”

Feeling Mar’s thumb coast lovingly over her cheek to brush away the few tears that had managed to escape, Guinevere swallowed thickly before whimpering back in a soft, fragile voice. “I can’t lose you, Mar…my heart won’t be able to take it.”

“And who says you will? None of us know for sure what might be in store for us, but I trust our friends and I trust you, my little badass.” Mar crooned gently, his free hand lifting up to cup the other side of Guinevere’s face as well. “Now please stop worrying about that which may not even happen and just focus on this moment. We all made it out alive and we worked together to make that happen. That’s what matters right now. Everything’s okay, Guin. We’re okay.”

“…Can I just hold onto you for a bit longer?” 

“Of course. We can stay like this as long as you need.”

And there it was. Her eyes slowly flicking open and rising to meet his own, Guinevere’s lips finally curved into a faint smile. His heart fluttering a bit at the beautiful sight, Mar offered her a gentle smile of his own, but just as a sense of peace was starting to wash over them both, the smug voice of Nebiros shattered the magic of the moment.

“Uh, are you two done here?” The artificer sneered as he stared keenly at the two. “Some of us still need patching up.”

Lifting her head in his direction, Guinevere opened her mouth to speak only for the words to stall in her throat as she felt Mar’s arms ensnare her around the middle again and squeeze her tight. Glancing down at him, she barely managed to suppress a chuckle when she noticed his serene smile had been replaced by a sour scowl that he was shamelessly shooting in Nebiros’s direction.

“No, my chest still hurts, so go wait your turn, Nebiros. You’ll live.” he grunted curtly, his stare frigid and unwavering as he waited impatiently for the gnome to take the hint and wander back to the others. Fortunately, Nebiros just shrugged and started wandering back the way he had come, although his surprising compliance left an uneasiness in the pit of both the cleric’s and the druid’s stomachs.

“Your chest hurts?” Guinevere frowned, her attention snapping back to Mar. “I didn’t see you get hit there.”

Tearing his eyes away from Nebiros’s retreating form, Mar flashed her an impish smirk, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, it doesn’t actually hurt anymore. The pain went away the minute I saw you smile.”

“M-M-Mar!!!”

This was it. This was how it was supposed to be.