#I was thinking Hiril daughter of Barahir initially but decided to make it vague

[gwaedhannen]

Hi! If you're up to it, 'She kept a blade under her pillow, her father's old sword, and grasped it at time when there was no other hand to hold in the night' for the 5 sentence ask pls?

Big fan of your fics btw! <3

In the day, she bears the blade in one hand, shield in the other, and would have carried a child or elder upon her back if only there was not the risk of attack at any time. Instead she patrols the lines of survivors; instead she smiles for the children; instead she sings for the elders; instead she raises blade and shield against the foes who harry them again and again.

Every death she bears on her heart as if it were her own soul sundered from flesh and not another’s; a new notch on the blade’s hilt; a new verse in the lay of remembrance. Her father will never see the lands she leads his (her) people towards—she will never see his grave. But the sword shall bring them to a new promise, and as she holds the grip, she no longer feels notched wood or leather binding, but his calloused hand in her own.

[edennill]

@aureentuluva70

Hi! If you're up to it, 'She kept a blade under her pillow, her father's old sword, and grasped it at time when there was no other hand to hold in the night' for the 5 sentence ask pls?

Big fan of your fics btw! <3

In the day, she bears the blade in one hand, shield in the other, and would have carried a child or elder upon her back if only there was not the risk of attack at any time. Instead she patrols the lines of survivors; instead she smiles for the children; instead she sings for the elders; instead she raises blade and shield against the foes who harry them again and again.

Every death she bears on her heart as if it were her own soul sundered from flesh and not another’s; a new notch on the blade’s hilt; a new verse in the lay of remembrance. Her father will never see the lands she leads his (her) people towards—she will never see his grave. But the sword shall bring them to a new promise, and as she holds the grip, she no longer feels notched wood or leather binding, but his calloused hand in her own.