#Ferryn/Keldorn

[spindlethief]

11. “I almost lost you” kiss

This… this got way out of hand, not gonna lie. More Keldorn/Ferryn (because I’m less afraid to share them than Sable tbh.)

For three nights, Keldorn had drunk himself into a stupor rather than attempt to sleep amidst the swirling images in his head. Everything had happened so quickly, it had been days, and Keldorn still hadn’t quite wrapped his head around it all. She’d been right beside him. She was always right beside him. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been taking that presence for granted until it was gone. It had happened so fast, one moment she’d been riding at his side and the next-

They’d been crossing a river, one they’d trudged through many times before, but not this close to spring. Not with the water so high. The horses had struggled to keep upright in the torrent, Keldorn had cleared the far bank and turned around just in time to watch Ferryn’s horse lose its footing. She’d been swept away before he could so much as blink. He’d felt sick ever since. Half because of the sight, and half because of the wine.

There’d been no time to search for her, no time to turn around and follow the river instead of continuing to the woods. They were still being pursued and there was no telling how far down the river she’d surface, or if she would at all. Not to mention the scolding he’d get from her if he separated himself from the rest of the party to search. So Keldorn had navigated the last few days in a haze of half mourning, not sure if he should be praying for her passage or her safety. Priests of Kelemvor always had one foot in the grave, but this was something else entirely. Firstly, it wasn’t his foot. And secondly, accepting his own death would be a hell of a lot easier than accepting hers. All of her joking aside, he was the one who was supposed to go first.

The only hope he had was to reach the next town as they’d planned. If she survived, she’d  head there. It hadn’t taken them more than half a day to reach the safety behind the walls, only to find the silence of an inn room more unbearable than comforting. So he drank, unwilling to face the possibility that his wife might very well be dead. Unwilling to cast any of the vast number of spells he knew that could confirm it. Hovering in this limbo was easier than knowing, at least for now, he wasn’t prepared to mourn for her. They’d been married for less than a year. He drained the last drops from a wine bottle down his throat, still parched for more. In all this time he’d barely eaten, and it was likely he owed the inn half a fortune by now. Shakily he forced himself to his feet despite the way the room spun in an effort to dissuade him. He shut his eyes to steady himself and saw Ferryn vanish into white water in sickeningly perfect detail. Opening his eyes didn’t serve him much better, the image and the truth of what it meant burned a hole in him. How many days could he stall here before he had the courage to admit it? How long would he put aside his duties to drink as a pathetic excuse for mourning? The obvious choice would be to turn to Kelemvor for guidance, to ask the guardian of the dead if she’d passed, to see if he could commune with her like he had a thousand spirits before. How long would he put it off for fear of what he would find?It had been three days, maybe closer to four. He couldn’t be sure with all the drink. If she’d survived and were making her way on foot she’d have caught up by now. If by some miracle her horse had lived too, they’d have been mere hours behind the rest of the caravan. He would have to accept the truth soon enough. She was gone. He would see her again, but not until his life too was ended. And he could not spend the rest of his time a rambling drunkard in an inn, not if he wanted to be reunited with her in the afterlife. Vaguely he was aware of someone knocking on his door. Most likely the innkeeper coming to collect what was owed to her. Keldorn dared hope that was all she came for, and he wasn’t about to be thrown to the street for drinking her out of business. The knocking grew more persistent as he stumbled towards the door, leaning a hand on the wall where he could. For a moment he thought to toss his gold coins under the door just to be left alone a few minutes longer, then considered the scolding his wife would give him were she alive to see him behave in such a way. So he unlatched the iron lock and inched the door open, entirely unprepared for what awaited him. Ferryn’s hair was plastered to her face from the rain, she was choking on her breath, chest heaving from the struggle. He could see a wash of bruises on her neck, speckled with dried blood that covered the meager remains of her armor. At first he thought it was a cruel illusion, his mind so far diluted from his drinking it had conjured a phantom. Having been so deep into his drink he’d hardly noticed it had been raining the last two days. The same spring rain that had raised the river into a torrent. Soaking wet, shivering, she threw her arms around his neck and let out a hoarse and desperately relieved sob. “Thank the gods, you’re alive.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, a croaking rasp that shook him down to his core. Tightly he wound his arms around her, still trying to comprehend if this moment was real. Having only just barely started to consider that he’d never hold her like this again. Suddenly he was awash with guilt at ever having entertained the thought. Slowly he leaned back just enough that he could rest his hands on her cheeks, losing himself in her gaze. This was real, she was here. Bloody but breathing. Relief swelled up from his chest and choked him with a sob he hadn’t felt coming, like he hadn’t felt the tears that started their short journey down his face. He caught his breath for the first time in three days when he kissed her, trying to keep it soft but unable to dissuade his frantic heart. His fingers slid back into the tangle of her wet hair as he pulled her even closer. She could never be close enough. Ferryn returned every affection, regardless of her injuries. Gripping tightly to his shoulders until he pulled away, parting only far enough so they could rest their foreheads against one another in the doorway. “I thought I’d lost you.” Keldorn managed to whisper, still cupping her face in his shaking hands. “I thought I’d-”“I’m here. I’m right here, beloved.” Somehow she smiled, though her voice was still soft and far away. “Right at your side. Right where I belong.” Her gentle fingers trailed down his cheek to settle on his neck. For the first time in three nights, Keldorn slept.

Thank you so much for the prompt @flowerbabytrevelyan and for your constant encouragement. This was delightfully angsty which is way more up my ally than I care to admit. 

[spindlethief]

Fieldstones (Ch.1/?)

Written based of current D&D characters, flushing out their history and backstory.  Ferryn (elven paladin)/ Keldorn (human cleric) Pre-relationship CW: Death, violence  Word count: 1975

“It’s only a matter of time before she betrays us. Just you watch, elves are all the same. Especially wood elves.” Paladin Wariik had been going on about this for nearly an hour, and had yet to show any signs of slowing down his barrage. Keldorn had inched further and further away from him during the tirade, but the man had only edged closer with every shift. 

“They’re all blood and no honour. She will turn on us, I guarantee it. Maybe not while any of us are breathing, mind you. Fucking elves. She’ll wait for us to die so she can slit our children’s throats once we’re gone to dust.” The brute was spitting as he spoke, all while taking gnashing bites of his dinner. Spittle and scraps of food spraying with every bitter word. “You’ve rode with her for six years, I’d think if she was going to do something she’d have done it by now.” Keldorn muttered, barely a whisper with a shrug of his shoulders. He shuffled again to dodge the spit reply. “Long game, lad. Long game. Elves count decades like we count days, you know. She’s barely started with us, she’ll get her claws in deep before she turns. Just you watch.” Wariik shook a half eaten forkful in his direction. “Open your eyes, Keldorn. She’s not to be trusted. I see the way you ogle the knife-eared bitch, don’t let her fool you on account of you being young and lustful.”

Red faced and fuming, Keldorn got up from his seat, leaving the last of his dinner abandoned. “I think that’s enough for me for one night.” He managed to croak out, brushing off his robes and turning away from the camp. He still needed to bathe before bed, there was a river nearby, and if he stayed any longer he was going to say something he’d regret. Wariik was leading this group, as much as he wanted to put the man in his place it would be worse for everyone if he tried. That, and Ferryn had asked him quite directly not to say anything. She claimed it didn’t bother her, and even though he could tell it was a lie, she had asked and he would do anything she asked of him. Even keep this silence. She’d gone so far to make it a condition of him joining them on the ride. It has been nearly a year and it had not gotten any easier for him to swallow.

He tried not to let it bother him, and ignored it as best as he could. But right now an onslaught of cruel words were bouncing around in his skull, distracting him, as he followed the narrow foxpath to the river. Were his mind not clouded he might have noticed the unnatural stillness as he got closer to the banks. He might have realised there was no sound of birds or animals of any kind in the silent night. The inside of his mind was still too loud with all the things he wished he had said when he was sitting at the fire.

There was no chance for him to see the blow coming, let alone avoid it. He was struck hard in the back with a fierce kick that sent him sprawling and winded into the dirt. Keldorn choked on his breath, turning quickly onto his back to face his attacker. Frozen in place by a drawn arrow pointed directly at his heart. 

“Call for help and you’ll die long before they reach you.” A vicious and uncompromising threat, the man who stood over him with his bow drawn was the same. Tresses of black hair in braids, his armor green and brown and grey like the forest. A hunter, a killer, an elf.

“W-wait I- we mean no harm, I swear we’re just-” Keldorn raised his arms in surrender as he inched back, only to have the space closed by a menacing step.

“Just passing through? Every human says the same. You set up roads and trade caravans through our forest, just to pass through.” He hissed in utter loathing. “You think you can saunter anywhere you please unchecked.” Slowly he looked over the terrified priest at his feet, eyes darkening when he spotted the holy symbol poking out of his robes. “Harbingers. You bring death with you.”

“No! No- no we only perform funerals, we see all souls across. All souls. Even elves. You’re people know my God, please- I- I don’t-”

“You do not wish to meet your God, human? Here on the banks of our river?” The next words he spat we’re elven, beyond Keldorn’s understanding. But he did understand the ferocious glare, the squaring of shoulders and small adjustments in stance that could only mean he was preparing to loose his arrow. Keldorn couldn’t look away, and stared his death in the face.

But death didn’t come, instead there was a shout from behind him in a voice he knew in words he couldn’t comprehend. Only then did the fear really settle in his chest, not so much of death, but of being slaughtered in front of her. Ferryn stepped out of the shadows behind him, facing the affronting elf with a bow of her own. Knocked with an arrow but not raised, she held it ready in one hand with the other outstretched and open.

“Stop. Please don’t do this. He means you no harm, these are not traders or warriors. There is no threat to you or your people, there is no honor in this hunt.” She knew Keldorn wouldn’t understand the elven but she also knew her chances of talking the hunter down were greater in their shared tongue.

Sure enough he turned to her without releasing his arrow, and she took in the familiar shift of expressions. Surprise, doubt, disappointment and rage each in their turn.

“You are one of us. Sister, you travel with these men? You side yourself with strangers to our blood! It is our people they threaten!” Reluctantly he took his eyes off Keldorn but kept the arrow steady. “You betray your own kind for these ilk?”

“I am called by a God, this is what my life is meant for. Please, lower your weapon. No one needs to die here tonight.” Ferryn pleaded, stepping closer but stopping mid step, reasoning would not come easy. The elves in these woods had nearly been wiped out, long enough ago that it was history to most humans, but still recent enough to be a memory for the elves.

“You’d threaten me for him?! A human?! His life is but a blink; would he do the same for you? Do you not hear what they say about us around their fire?” Aghast, shaking his head he looked down at where Keldorn lay at his feet. “They have blinded you, clouded your mind, you will understand once you’re free of-” He did not get to finish. Ferryn’s arrow flew straight and caught him in the throat, carried on a sharp cry. Knocking him back before his hands gave out and he released his own bow. The dead elf’s arrow missed her by a scarce foot, disappearing into the brush behind her as he fell back. A corpse before he hit the ground. Keldorn struggled to his feet as the shouting started, their incoming camp mates loudly crashing through the brush to find the source of the sudden sound. Ferryn fought back tears, trying to straighten her spine as Keldorn turned to face her, his face white with horror. She knew he didn’t understand the exchange that had just happened over him, but he did know she’d just cut a very long life quite a bit shorter. There were a few seconds, less than a minute, were they stared at each other in silence before it was shattered by Wariik bursting through the brush and nearly tripping on the body at his feet. “Fuck happened here.” He bellowed, looking suspiciously from Ferryn to Keldorn to the body. “Kelemvor’s mercy there’s an arrow in his neck.”

He stepped over it and around Keldorn, eager for any excuse to bring his wrath down on Ferryn. Snarling as he got in her face, staring her in the eye with intent cruelty. “Care to explain? Please enlighten me as to how a dead body appears on the edge of our camp. A body you are unsurprisingly responsible for, despite the fact that you are supposed to be asleep.” He reveled in the way she recoiled from his words, but was struck silence by Keldorn suddenly wedging himself between them. Barely eighteen and here he was staring down his superiors with no thought to the consequences. “He was going to kill me.” Keldorn rushed to explain, careful to keep his face aligned with Wariik’s to keep Ferryn out of his war path. “I wasn’t watching and he got me on my back. He was going to kill me, Wariik. This wasn’t her doing.” “Wasn’t her doing? There’s an arrow in his neck and a bloody bow in her hands-” “She killed him but his death is my fault. If she’d done any differently it would be my body here for you to squabble over.” He put a reluctant hand on Wariik’s shoulder, careful to avoid any indistinguishable stains or splatter. “Do you hear me? This is my fault, I will see to his rites and burial. Your strength is best spent ensuring there are no more of them nearby.” As much as he hated to back down, Wariik relented. Set off guard by Keldorn’s little show of strength, and the unexpected bout of pride it had given him. He’d seen the boy grown up from a meek bookish thing to the man he was now, even if he still had some obvious mistakes to make.

“Careful, Keldorn.” He muttered before turning to return to camp. “Take a good long look down the path ahead of you.” With that he turned and left them in the dark.

It took Keldorn a moment to catch his breath and muster himself to turn around, not sure what he expected to come next. It certainly wasn’t the sight that encountered. Ferryn had dropped her bow and was tightly clutching her own silver holy symbol tightly to her heart. A few stray tears stained her cheeks, but when their eyes met she couldn’t help but to break into a relieved smile. “Thank you.” She eventually choked out, shaking herself out of the haze and rubbing her face clean with the back of her hand. “I’m, I’m so sorry, you didn’t have to do that. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Was she really asking him that? “I’m not hurt, no, maybe a bit bruised. If it’s all the same, please don’t apologize for saving my life. Should it ever come up again.” As much as he knew this was probably a terrible time to make this sort of joke he found himself saying it anyway. To his relief, she didn’t seem to mind, and dared another faint smile before turning her attention past him to the body on the path. “We should see to him.” She murmured, running her fingers along the silver symbol in her hands. “I think I’ve made the God’s angry enough for one night, I shouldn’t neglect my duties.” Keldorn thought for a moment to offer to let her rest instead, but after some consideration he remained silent and let her help. It would take them both the rest of the night to perform rites and see this spirit safely across to the abyss. After that Keldorn would have to hope she wouldn’t come to hate him, for putting her in the position where she had to chose a life to spare.

Chapter 1/? Previous/Next Likes, reblogs and comments make the author very happy and probably make loud sqeely noises of joy.  I’m sorry in advance to my followers who know me in real life

[spindlethief]

Fieldstones (Ch.2/?)

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Based on current D&D characters

After an unexpected attack, Ferryn and Kedlorn perform burial rights, and Ferryn finds herself faced with a painful decision about her future.  Word count: 1660

The question started to nag at him not long after the pyre was lit. Keldorn hadn’t had much time to process the last hours, still more than a little shaken from his brush with mortality. Once the night quieted down to a more familiar routine, the query had begun bouncing around in his mind. Trying but constantly failing to reach his tongue.

Ferryn had her back to the fire, keeping watch on the dark with the occasional shift in her position when the flames grew too hot. Her armor was stifling, the plate and leather did an excellent job of drawing in the fire’s heat. As the pyre grew, she inched further and further from it, always on the edge of the shadows. And always with her back to him. In fact she’d hardly so much as glanced at him since they began. Keldorn took a slow breath and counted his heartbeats, determined to work up the nerve to ask by the tenth beat. One, two, maybe this was a bad idea. Three, four, five, he should just leave it be, he knew he should just leave it be. Where was he? Best to start again. So he did, over and over, for nearly an hour, trying to get the words to form in his mouth but only managing shaking breaths and silence. It carried on like that until the sky turned grey and dawn threatened to crest the horizon. The hum of the fire joined by bird songs in anticipation of the coming day.

Ten heartbeats, he'd count ten heartbeats to work up the nerve to ask. This time he would do it, this time for sure.

Keldorn turned and hoped to get her attention but Ferryn still stood rod straight with her back to him. Careful to keep the pyre between them this whole time. It had been longer than he realized, there was little left of the body except for bones now. Ten heartbeats had become a thousand.

“Ferryn?” Even now the words tangled in his throat. “I know I- that is- I don't want to seem ungrateful. But, what were you doing out here?” There was more to the question that he dare not ask. What was she doing out here, armed and armoured when she should have been resting, with her mount saddled and prepared for travel.

“I've been thinking about leaving,” She finally replied after an agonising silence. Still staring out into the woods and away from him. “I thought I would ride alone for a while.”

It was exactly the reply he'd hoped not to hear, but it was no surprise. He couldn't quite fathom why she'd put up with it for so long.

“I wouldn't have,” She added, still staring out into the dark. “Not without telling anyone, at least.”

“Do you want to?” He asked. “I can't really fault you, but… you don't have to be alone. I could- I mean, we could manage on our own I think.”

“That's kind of you to offer, Keldorn, but it's best we stay with the group. I can be strong enough to endure this trial,” She finally turned to look at him, wearing half a melancholy smile.

Keldorn swallowed the lump in his throat with a slight nod. Shifting his weight while the questions in his head rearranged and reformed over and over into new queries. All with answers he wasn't certain he really wanted.

“Wariik is trying, but hardly a trial,” he began cautiously. “I don't think enduring his cruelty is proving anything to the Gods, if that's what you're worried about.”

She didn't reply, and they settled back into silence. Ferryn’s posture has stiffened somewhat and she remained adamantly watching the treeline. The sun had just begun to crest the top of the trees, forcing Keldorn to pull his gaze away. Lest he get caught staring at the way the light seemed to catch in the copper of her hair. There were other things he could tend to, soon there would be bones to clean and prepare for burial. He would have more time to ask questions, for now his attention should be solely in making sure this spirit was guided safely to the other side.

“I call upon the Gods to hear me, let this soul find quiet rest in death. May Kelemvor see him tried for the acts of his life and forgiven. May his passage be swift and without temptation,” There was comfort in the familiarity of prayer. “Mercy upon us who remain. And-”

He drew in a long breath, holding it for a few heartbeats  “-and I ask forgiveness, it is my fault this life is ended. I will carry the weight of it with me. So it can be measured against me when I too face judgement.”

Ferryn was losing feeling in her fingertips from gripping the hilt of her sword so tightly. It did nothing to quit the tremble in her arms or the ache in her chest. This was her sin to carry, she wouldn't have him bare the weight for her. Not with his life being so short, and so precious.

“It's one thing to lie to Wariik, another entirely to lie to the Gods,” When she turned around to face him he was already staring at her. “I'm the one who killed him. I made that choice.”

“It isn't a lie, I'm taking responsibility-”

“Pray for me if you're to do something. Please. You have a better chance of being heard than I do.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I- I doubt Kelemvor would hear anything from me now.”

“Ferryn,” Keldorn stepped quietly to her side, keeping his gaze fixed on hers. “I promise you, everything that happens isn't some test of faith. And if it were, I'd hope saving my life would be far from a failure.”

Her ears were ringing, her heart racing in her chest. When had he become so wise? In all her time in the church she'd met a scarce few priests as naturally adept as he was. Did he not see how rare he was? How precious every moment of his life would be?

Keldorn reached out fighting the faintest pause before he laid his hand along her cheek. All at once she forgot how to breath, winded by a terrible realisation. The man he'd become was something exceptional, and charming, and she'd stood little chance against his warm nature. She'd always loved him, but everything about that love had changed.

And she knew it would be entirely unfair to him if she were to speak a word of it. Even this was too much. Savouring the warmth of his fingers on her cheek, letting it spark and smoulder into something that could quickly ignite if not checked.

“I suppose you're right,” she paused long enough to turn and take a small step back. Watching his hand hover for a moment before resting with shaking fingers at his side. “I'm sorry, it's just-it's been such a long night.”

“Of course.” He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. She could still feel the lingering warmth from his fingers as he turned his attention back to the pyre. This time he had little trouble keeping his gaze averted, and the fire was a welcome barrier between them. It was a long moment before she turned back to her watch, trying to quiet the frantic thoughts that had taken over her mind.

No matter how she tried to reason it the obvious path was clear. She would have to leave, like she'd been planning. A cautious glance over her shoulder to where he knelt next to the fire, praying quietly in a whisper while he retrieved bones from the charcoal, only served to reaffirm her. She would leave. For his sake.

They were three days from Greyhawk, there was a small clergy there and the city was halfway safe. Once they reached the city there would be a few days set aside to rest and recoup, she could easily slip away on the first night and be miles away by the time they realised she’d gone. At least, by the time anyone other than Keldorn noticed she was gone. Her chest tightened at the thought but she quickly swallowed the feeling. As much as she suspected her feelings were returned, their circumstances couldn’t be changed, and she couldn’t bear the thought of him wasting his precious short years longing for what couldn’t be.

“We should bury the bones soon, it looks like it may rain.” Keldorn’s voice pierced her thoughts, bringing her back to the task at hand. “I haven’t rested but I think I can perform the spell.”

He’d gathered up the charred bones into a neat pile in front of him, the last of the fire still smouldering down to coal. Inhaling deeply he whispered a few short words, keeping steady focus on each precise motion of his hands to draw the magic he needed from the world, letting out a relieved sigh as the earth in front of him swelled up and swallowed the last of the elf’s remains. Slowly he stood, brushing dirt from his knees, giving her a cautious glance before averting his eyes as though he’d been scolded. “We should get back to the others, assuming they haven’t gone ahead without us.” He shrugged, resisted the urge to look back at her, and turned quickly back towards their camp.

Ferryn watched him vanish through the line of trees and released the breath she’d been holding. She tried and failed to subdue the shaking in her shoulders and needed to wait there a while for her heart to stop racing. In three days they would reach Greyhawk. In three days she would leave them, more than likely never to see any of them again. For now she could only pray she would be strong enough to follow through with it.

Chapter 2/? Previous/Next Likes, reblogs and comments make the author very happy and probably make loud squeely noises of joy.

[spindlethief]

otp fluff prompts - Imagine your otp cooking breakfast

Thank you so much @flowerbabytrevelyan for another adorable prompt. I really appreciate you taking the time to encourage me to continue to write, draw and be creative. You’re truly the sweetest person on this site. Here’s a quick little fluff drabble about Ferryn and Keldorn pre-relationship (my and my bf’s D&D characters that are an absurdly cute little married couple)

Keldorn lost count of the new supplies for the third time that morning- and paused a moment to lament the fact that he could only blame himself. If he hadn’t stayed up so late the night before hoping to meet the caravan when it arrived he’d be rested enough to be done this work. Instead he’d tried to stay awake, exhausting him for the day, and worst of all he hadn’t even managed to stay up long enough to greet them. He’d fallen asleep in his chair and missed the whole thing, only to have to drag himself out of his slumber a few short hours later for his morning chores. It was his day to make breakfast, which also meant counting and sorting all the supplies that had been brought in while he slept.

“Four sacks of flour, three baskets of apples with twenty pieces each, two dozen eggs-” he glanced out through the small stone window into the quiet courtyard. “Supposedly three chickens as well but one of them is sneaky.” He mused, trying to remember to write everything down in his sleepless stupor.

It had been a smaller caravan, two priests and three paladin’s with one cart between them. It had been five years since this particular group had passed through the capital and made to rest at the church, the start and end of their circuit. He’d just been a boy when last they’d come through- not yet old enough to join in the pilgrimage. But he was stronger now, just turned seventeen, and ready to prove his worth on the road. All the other brothers said he was an exceptional priest, perhaps if he asked he’d be allowed to join them. He was ready, and had helplessly held onto hope these last five years that he might be assigned to this particular party. Even if it was only because of who rode with them. The other brother’s teasing had done nothing to dissuade him. Ever since he first saw her he’d thought of little else than riding at her side, traveling across the country bringing peace to those who were grieving. He’d seen the way she’d spoken so gently with a desperate widow, how she’d calmed a frantic young man mourning the sudden loss of his father, how she’d stepped as silent as a ghost through their foggy graveyard and laid flowers at the headstone of every bare plot so no soul would be left lonely.

He cursed as he lost count again, and started over from the eggs. This time more careful to keep his notes and not let his mind wander. Breakfast would be lunch at this pace, he needed to focus on the task and hand and stop getting so distracted. So he didn’t look up when he heard the door open behind him and instead focused even more intently on his task. Determined to at least look like he hadn’t spent half the morning daydreaming. Quiet footsteps began to approach him and he kept his nose pointed firmly at his half finished notes. “Breakfast isn’t ready yet, you’ll have to wait a bit-“Keldorn?”

Before he turned fully around his heart was in his throat. She stood there, silhouetted in the doorway with one hand on the frame and the other cradling a basket. Copper tresses of her hair, meticulously braided in little strands that swept back with the rest, carefully brushed to cover her pointed ears. It was summer, the deep tan of her skin had darkened to a stunning russet brown, a warm shade unlike anything he’d ever seen. Except, of course, on her. Five years ago when last she’d passed through. He remembered everything about her, every time detail, but had never imagined she’d remember him.

“Ferryn.” Her name belonged on his lips. “It’s… it’s so good to see you.”

All at once she swept towards him across the kitchen, setting down her basket to free her arms to embrace him. Keldorn felt the rush of his breath leaving him. His arms wound tightly around around her, doing his best to keep them steady as he found himself awash in the faint smell of cloves in her hair. Without thinking he rested his head in the curve of her neck, the realisation and his blush hit as she pulled away. Resting her hands on his shoulders and beaming, her smile was like sunlight.

“Look at you, you’ve gone and become a man while I wasn’t watching.” She laughed a little, still smiling warmly. “It’s clearly been far too long since I was last here.”

Five years and four months, give or take a few days. Though he knew better than to say that.

“It has been some time, hasn’t it?” A grin tugged at his mouth, an infectious crooked smile. “I- um… as much as I’d love to catch up, if I don’t have breakfast started soon it’ll-”

“I’ll help.” She chimed back without a moment of hesitation. Before he could think to protest she’d stepped away to wash the dust off her hands in a basin by the window. Silver droplets shone like diamonds on her fingers. He watched, entranced, as she reached up behind her head and twisted her thick coped hair into a haphazard bun. Winding it with a tie she’d had on her wrist. Pulling it back off her face and her slender pointed ears. A stark and sudden reminder of how unlikely it was that she’d ever see him as more than a child.

That is, of course, unless the other brothers were correct. If what they said was true they were all dogs to her. Short lived companions it was best not to get attached to. Ferryn was already over a hundred years old, she’d live almost a century. Keldorn would be lucky if he made it to eighty, though knowing that had done very little to disused his interest. And it broke his heart just a little to watch her carefully tug two strands of hair from her bun to sweep them over the tips of her ears. He wondered how much of her hundred years of life had been filled with cruelty, having lived all of it in a human clergy. “Let’s get started then, I’ll see to the bread.” She turned to him and smiled, the faintest rise of pink in her cheeks. “Oh, and don’t tell the others but-” she gestured to her forgotten basket on the counter, “-I heard you were working in here so I brought you some of those sweet rolls from the gnomish baker. I remember you liked them so much, though, I suppose in so many years that may have changed.”

Keldorn caught himself before he laughed, unable to contain his grin. “Some things are eternal, unfortunately my love for gnomish bakeries is one of those things.” His heart swelled as she stifled a small giggle, covering her mouth for a moment before turning back to him. Her gaze shifting ever so slightly, like she was looking at him for the first time. “It really is so good to see you again, Keldorn.” She said gently, the pink across her nose deepening. “Well um- right, the bread.” She was still beaming as she stepped around him, crossed the kitchen and set to work.

For just a moment he watched her, his heart alight with fresh hope, before returning to his task of counting supplies. Now the list came as easy as breathing, and in a short time he was at her side. 

[spindlethief]

types of kisses prompts - 4

Thank you so much for the prompt! Disclaimer: I have waaaaay too many D&D characters. I decided to write this one about the happy couple, Ferryn and Keldorn, just as their relationship begins. They are truly barftastically cute and my bf helped with the concept for their exceptionally tragic backstory. shhh it’s fine 4. In The Moment Kiss - Maybe it’s in the middle of an argument or you just looked too damn beautiful not to kiss, but their lips were hot against yours and it felt too good to stop. 

“I know what you’re thinking. I heard the others- Poor Keldorn sent off with the knife ear- You know I didn’t choose this either.” Ferryn struggled to free herself from the last pieces of her platemail. Keldorn had been staring, though, not for the reason she suspected. 

“That’s not- I, uh..- I wasn’t thinking that.” Sheepishly he came and sat next to her around their meager fire, in their makeshift camp. Watching as she furiously began scrubbing blood off her armor. “Either way,” She grumbled, refusing to look at him. While he couldn’t make himself look away. The fire light was reflecting like gold in her copper hair, shedding warm light across her sharp cheekbones. “It’s fine you’re disappointed. Any one of the brothers would have been, I’m not so stupid as you all think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Ferryn.” He wondered if all elves looked like this. Or just the ones from the deep woods, with their bronze skin and striking eyes. He’d never met another elf other than a few in passing. They had been a different sort, light and pale and airy in floating silks with silver locks and haughty attitudes. “And I’m not disappointed.”“Oh of course.” She snapped, her fingers fumbling with rags and steel as she determinedly kept her eyes fixed on the task and decidedly not on him. “You’re too good for that. You’ve always been perfect. The model student, the model priest. No one doubts where your power comes from. Of course Kelemvor blessed you, any God you asked would have.” Keldorn felt his face starting to go hot, it wasn’t really a surprise she was so bitter. Many of the other paladins and clerics had been doubtful of her, some even outright cruel. Kelemvor was a human God, the patron of death and graves and safe passage to the other side. The elves had no equivalent. So when an elven orphan who’d already outlived every caregiver of her childhood showed signs of being chosen, some were apprehensive to believe. 

“I’m not… that’s…” How was he supposed to come up with something to say with her sitting there looking like that? “You are. Everyone thinks so. It’s why they stuck you with me I suspect. If anyone could make me less useless it would be you.” Frustrated she tossed down her half polished grieve, twisting the worn rag desperately in her hands. “It’s not fair to you, I know. I didn’t ask for this.”

“Kelemvor doesn’t think you’re useless, Ferryn. And neither do I.” Far from it, in fact. Keldorn had been elated when he heard they’d be traveling together, mostly because of the boyish crush he’d been harboring for the decade they’d known each other. He’d been just a boy when they met, but she was an elf. As he aged, she stayed the same. Eventually he’d caught up.

It seemed absurd to him that anyone would doubt her familiarity with death. She was raised among humans, every one of them already long outlived.

 “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Ferryn grumbled, shutting her eyes as her head bowed.

“Well, yes but that doesn’t make it less true.” Cautiously he reached towards her, daring fingers gently turning her chin so she’d finally look at him. Her hazel eyes were watery and pained, and still breathtaking. “Ferryn, you’ve been chosen by a God, to wield his power and his blade. Whatever nonsense you hear from mortal whispers means nothing. Trust in him, trust in your faith. The rest of us are little more than dust anyway.” 

“Keldorn-” he’d thought she might turn away but her gaze stayed fixed. “-I…” 

All at once she was kissing him. It took a moment for his mind to catch up with everything else. His fingers still lingering on her cheek, the soft warm feeling of her lips pressed against his. In all his years of daydreaming he’d never once thought this could actually be a possibility, it had never crossed his mind that she’d see him as anything other than a fleeting and temporary companion. When she started to pull away he leaned into her and lingered a few moments more against her lips. Until at last she broke away, turned away, her face flushed and burning. “I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have-” She fumbled for words only to fall silent when he laid his hand over hers. “Don’t apologize. Please. You know if I’d known you’d thought about me this way I may have said something a bit sooner.” He teased, delighted at her blush. Ferryn shifted how she sat, slowly leaning herself against him until her head rested on his shoulder.

[spindlethief]

blushing prompts - c1

Omg this was so fun and came out so cute. We have a very happy Ferryn, probably after failing not to laugh at one of Keldorn’s stupid jokes. Not to bad for a quick doodle. Prompt from this postThank you so much @flowerbabytrevelyan!

[spindlethief]

Heyokaylisten, I know you don’t know me, like, AT ALL (let’s be real here, no one does), but I saw earlier how upset you were about your D&D story not getting a lot of attention and I just wanted to let you know that I really like it and I hope you continue writing it because it’s good and I’d love to see how the relationship (whatever it may be) between Ferryn and Keldorn grows. And I know I might just be one person, but this one person thinks you’re swell, so... yeah.

I am honestly so touched that you’d take the time to message me this. I sort of gushed for a bit, maybe more than a bit, and I’m trying to come up with the best response but I’m just so floored that you’d be sweet enough to reach out. Thank you! I am still planning to continue this story (at least while it continued to burn a hole in my mind) and if it only reaches one or two people like you I think it’ll be worth the effort. I can just be a bit of a baby sometimes.